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whiskeynwriting · 3 years ago

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Blurred Lines - Chapter Six: Your Mandalorian

Din Djarin x Force Sensitive F!Reader

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Word count: 8.4k

Warnings: 18+ (minors DNI) vaginal sex, dirty talk, praise kink, oral (m receiving), tit-fucking, spitting, Dom! Din, implied oral (f receiving), implied anal.

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Summary: A friend from Tatooine turns out to be more than you’d assumed, and Din’s possessiveness for you continues to sky-rocket when meeting this mystery man. Din’s ever-growing emotions prompt him to craft a special gift.

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A/N: Oooooh yes I like me some Dom! Din.

Yikes this was longer than expected but I love it lol. Before you guys come for me, I absolutely love Cobb Vanth, he fucking stole that episode, but I can imagine Din’s reaction isn’t subtle when Cobb gets a little handsy. I feel like there’s a lot going on in this chapter but if you’ve seen the show it shouldn’t be too hard to follow along. Lol, enjoy

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“Oh, yes… baby, yes!”

“Yeah cyar’ika? Is that the spot?”

You whimper beneath him, his full weight pressing against your body. He’s holding your left leg up, pressing it down to your chest so he can access you in just the way he likes. Din loves to see you so spread out for him, your muscles stretching and tensing while you take him. He leans in, his lips and mustache ghosting over your neck, breathing in your scent.

After the events on Coruscant, Din started treating you differently. He’d always been passionate and affectionate with you, but something had changed. The possessiveness you witnessed during your first time together was back, and even more prominent than before. It’s as if seeing you like that, completely broken and bruised and lost as you laid on that rolled out cot, awakened something inside him. A dire, primal need to protect you, to claim you, to truly have his way with you.

The time spent in hyperspace was ideal for your situation. You’d gotten the opportunity to be truly engulfed in one another; learning each other’s bodies and desires, and Din wasn’t holding anything back.

“Let me smell you,” he’d demand, shoving his face between your thighs.

“Can I play with it?” he asked, his finger tracing the tight hole between your cheeks.

“Fuck mesh’la… can I stick my tongue inside?” he begged, his mouth inches from your dripping folds. “I love how you taste.”

He devoured you, wholly, completely, thoroughly. And you let him. There wasn’t a night where his attention wasn’t on you, exploring your body and marking you up. He let himself go, gave into every feral desire he had. Years spent behind his armor deprived him of the majority of his senses, but within the safety of the Crest, he let himself indulge in you.

The child did require attention of his own, though. He constantly threw his metal ball at you, trying to get you to hover it back over to him.

“Little shit,” you giggled, “trying to out me to your dad.”

When Din wasn’t looking, you’d do it; which wasn’t really the best idea because it only spurred him on. But you couldn’t help it. You always had an immense love for the small green baby, but after experiencing his energy through the force, you’d grown to have a bond unlike any other.

The three of you spent so much time together during those few days, cuddled into the hull while the child giggled or screamed or cried, whatever he chose to do in that moment. You’d watch movies on the holopad to entertain the little critter, played games with him to keep him busy. The game hide-and-seek was off-limits, though. That was a hard and fast rule after he nearly shot a hole through the hull after getting into Din’s armory while you were searching for him.

But right now, you didn’t need to think about that. Almost couldn’t think about that or anything else but Din and the pleasure he brought you.

“Have you ever been fucked this good, mesh’la? Fucked by a warrior like this?”

You whimpered beneath him, closing your eyes as you lost yourself to him in the darkness. “No,” you breathed out, shaking your head. “Never. I only know you… my Mandalorian.”

He groans, purring pleasurably at your response. “Mmm… so submissive for me. You’re learning so well, sweet girl.”

It’s not long after that he cums inside you, ripping an orgasm from your body along with him. His teeth sink into your neck, forcefully sucking and biting while he empties himself inside you. He marks you, claims you, and you wore the discolorations proudly.

“We’ll be there soon,” he pants above you, his hot breath coating your now purple and red skin.

“Okay,” you huffed, nodding your head as you catch your breath.

He turned, pressing his lips to yours while he cupped your face in his hand. Making love to Din was honestly a religious experience. He was so passionate and rough, but tender when he needed to be. His bare body rutting against yours made you delirious, his strong muscles handling you the way he wants. It’s true now, you only know him. Your Mandalorian.

You walk next to Din through the dimly lit alleyway, the child’s pram floating on his other side as your dangerous little family searches for the informant. The surrounding concrete walls are scattered with graffiti, multi-colored and in a language you don’t understand. Hidden in the shadows are snarling creatures with glowing red eyes, and they make the child whimper in fear. He could probably eat them if he wanted to, though.

“Enjoy the fights.”

The purple Twi’lek male gestures toward the open door, allowing the three of you to enter. Ugh, seriously? A fighting arena? You hated this shit, so boring and so obviously staged. The crowds scream and cheer as two large green monsters fight in the center, throwing enormous axes at one another as they stumble around. Before you can continue to internally complain, Mando leads the three of you over to sit next to the man he knows as Gor Koresh.

“I’m gonna go find a bathroom.” You lean over, whispering to Din.

He nods over his shoulder at you before returning his attention to the informant. The child stays near the Mandalorian while you wonder off, not really intent on finding a washroom, but just wanting to leave the general vicinity. There’s a small nook behind the bleachers most of the beings are seated on, and you decide it’s as good a place as any to be by yourself.

There’s a reason you’re so moody about being here. You don’t like being around fights anymore, not when you aren’t involved in them. You’d lost your piercings and vambraces on Coruscant and never got the chance to get them back. You didn’t feel right without them, you didn’t feel like yourself. Your piercings are a part of who you are, and your vambraces helped protect you and the ones you love, but now you had nothing, and it was hard to deal with. It was like part of your identity was missing. A feeling similar to jealousy arose within you at watching others fight, wanting to either be involved or not around at all. When you had your piercings and weapons, you didn’t mind sitting back while others had their go at each other, but without them, you felt like you were cowering away from the conflict. Something like proving to yourself that you can still fight without your metal adornments floating through your mind. No, that’s not the right word. The thought didn’t float through your mind, it forced its way in and completely set up camp, relentlessly poking at you no matter what you did or said. When you sit on the sidelines, you just feel… helpless, weak.

Suddenly, people start screaming. They’re no longer cheering on the ogre-like monsters fighting to the death but crying out in fear as they run for the exit. You look up, watching them scatter like rats out of the nasty building, pushing past each other as the sound of gun fire hits the air. You immediately move out from under the small corner, eager to find the source of the sudden violence. You shove your way through the mob in the opposite direction they’re running, desperately trying to get to Din and the kid.

Finally, the last beings scamper away and you’re able to see what they were so fearful of. You arrive at the scene just in time to see Mando, his back turned to you as he holds a man’s arm above his head and stabs him in the chest. Another man runs at Mando from behind, and you move to grab your blaster, but he’s taken care of before you even get it out of the holster. In one swift motion, the Mandalorian turns, throwing the knife directly into the last man’s heart, stopping him in his tracks.

His shoulders steadily rise and fall as he catches his breath, having likely fought off many others before you arrived. He looks so big, so strong, so dangerous… You love when he’s in his armor, and you love it even more when he fights. No matter what, piercings and vambraces or not, you always loved watching him fight. He battled furiously each and every time, exerting himself to the fullest as he aggressively took down anyone in his way. A tingle of excitement rushes through you as you watch him, a slow smirk forming on your face.

He looks over at you, and then behind you as he watches Gor Koresh attempt to escape. Mando leans down to pick up his blaster before running over to you, the child’s closed pram following closely behind. Mando’s visor looks up at you as he approaches, scanning the aroused look on your face as you grin, biting your lip.

“Later.” He huffs, pointing a finger at you. “Come on.” Oh yes, you’d definitely be in for a treat later.

It took all but two minutes for Din to get the information out of Gor Koresh. Lucky for you, the planet he mentioned isn’t far at all, and it’s one you’re actually quite familiar with. You’re sure the child is excited to get to Tatooine, knowing he’ll be able to run around on dry land for a while instead of the metal floor. The small space was less than adequate for his endless imagination, and he was starting to go stir-crazy. Weren’t you all.

“What the hell did I miss?” you ask, watching him punch in the coordinates to Tatooine.

“Nothing important.” He grunts, holding tight to the ship’s controls.

You coddle the child while you sit in the seat behind Din, comforting him after he witnessed the men in the arena attempt to attack his father. He was quite scared, and you held him closely, your heart beating in your chest. Of course, your heart always beat for the child, full of infinite love for the small alien. But right now, your heart raced for a different reason. Mando caught the informant as he ran away, of course, dragging the man back to him and then stringing him up on a lamp post by his feet. Din’s utter strength truly did something to you, calling out to an utterly submissive trait deep inside you.

Your steady heartbeat and comforting hold allow the child to drift off to sleep, and you take the opportunity to put him in his pram, closing its lid. You stand, sauntering over to Din as he faces the front windows of the Crest. You set your hands on his broad shoulders, roaming over his pauldrons and down his cuirass as you bend over the back of his chair.

“Cyare,” he breathes out.

“I love seeing you like that.” You coo, rubbing your nose against the side of his helmet.

You nibble on your lower lip, replaying the previous scenes over in your head. His strength, his speed, his dominance… He protects you and the child so fiercely; he’d do anything for the two of you. It’s one of many things you truly love about your Mandalorian, his undeniable love and respect for you and the small creature.

He turns in his chair slightly, allowing you to walk over between him and the control panel. Instead of sitting on one of his thighs, you decide to straddle his lap. He sighs out, one hand falling to your hip while the other stays fixed on the controls as he flies the ship toward your newest destination.

“Sweet girl…” he groans out, his hand tightening on your hip.

“I want you, baby.” You grin, wrapping your hands around his neck and moving to rub yourself on his lap. You loved this; loved being able to do these things to him, things you only ever dreamt of just a few weeks ago.

“I want you too, mesh’la, but I have to get us to Tatooine first.”

He’s right, you do have to get to Tatooine as quick as possible. It’s the first step in returning the child to the Jedi, the original reason you were even asked to come along on this mission (although Din claims otherwise). But maybe he can still fly the Crest during what you have in mind. You lean forward, placing a single kiss over his helmet before sliding off of him.

“I know that’s important… but you don’t have to stop piloting the ship…”

You sit down on the floor between his legs, your back pressing against the steel wall of the control panel. He grunts above you, clearing his throat and shifting in his seat when your hands run up his thighs to land on his clothed crotch.

“Cyare.” he says sternly, spoken as a warning.

“Baby…” you sigh out, slowly undoing his belt, then moving to his zipper. “You work so hard. You’re so strong… you protect me and the child so well.”

He forces out a hurried breath, trying to steady himself as you undo his pants. You hear rather than see his gloved hands tighten on the levers as he attempts to follow the set coordinates, the leather squeaking against the metal as it wraps firmly around the controls. His cock hardens quickly underneath your touch, allowing you to easily remove it from beneath his flight suit. It bobs up against the armor adorning his lower stomach, noticeably throbbing when you grasp him in hand. He’s circumcised, his red tip exposed and leaking ever so slightly. He has a few veins that run up the length of him, the ones on the bottom of his shaft more prominent than the others. The V-shape of his frenulum is very obvious, the sensitive area just below his tip absolutely aching to be touched.

“Let me reward you,” you purr, “let me show you just how much I adore you.”

Your soft hand begins tugging gently on his length as he rests just inches from your face. You’ve never tasted him before, never taken him down your throat, never even seen his bare cock since the first time you’d fucked, and that was only briefly. While the two of you had ravished one another for the past few days spent in hyperspace, this is something that just never seemed to come up; but you’re more than eager to swallow him whole. You stare up at him, realizing his fixed gaze on your teasing actions.

“Do you want me to stop?” you ask, pouting innocently and moving off of him.

You reach down, grabbing the hem of your shirt and tugging it up and off, continuing to tease the menacing warrior above you. While maintaining eye contact, you unclasp your bra, leaning forward and letting his length rest between your tits. He shakes his head slightly, silently responding to your previous question while he watches you intently.

Suddenly, the Crest jostles a bit, and his visor shoots back up to the controls as he steadies the ship. You smirk, watching him unravel above you before even putting your mouth on him. He’s now focused on the front windows, doing his best to concentrate on flying instead of on you.

“That’s good, baby,” you hum, glancing down at his now dripping cock. “Focus on flying, on keeping us safe… just like you always do.”

With that you lean in, licking a long stripe from his balls to his tip, causing his body to jerk in response. You smile against him, running your tongue over his frenulum, then his red tip, tasting his salty precum for the first time.

“Oh baby, you taste so good. I think I want more.” Engaging in any sexual act with Din made you feral, your thirst for him greedily growing each time you pleasured him.

You suck his tip into your mouth, swirling your tongue around him before quickly lowering yourself down. Your quick advance catches him off guard, a strangled groan coming from his throat as you go down on him. His thick length plunges into your mouth, the salty musk exhilarating as it fills your senses. The dark curls at the base of his shaft scratch against your nose as you finally take all of him down your throat, eager to shove him as far in as possible. Even through your current lust-filled state, you take the color of his hair into consideration, adding it to the mental image that is slowly coming to completion. You continue to move lower, forcing your gag reflex down and urging yourself to stay on him.

One of his hands comes down on the back of your head, pushing your face flush against his crotch. You moan around him, causing his cock to throb and leak just a little bit more, the saline taste coating your receptive buds. After holding your position for a few moments, you’re no longer able to resist your gag reflex and quickly move off of him, choking audibly.

“Oh fuck,” he growls, continuing to maneuver the Crest through empty space, nearing the dry, sandy planet. “I love that sound.” He sighs out, sounding completely wrecked as you work to swallow him.

His words encourage you, and you immediately move back over to put your mouth on him again. Your pace quickly builds, bobbing up and down on his thick length while he sits in his pilot’s chair. He’s sprawled out above you, his large frame intimidating as you stare up at him from between his spread legs. The hand on the back of your head begins leading you, forcing you down harder and quicker. He groans out, shifting his hips up and rutting up against your face. The way he dominates your mouth makes you ache, relentlessly forcing himself inside while you sit there and take it.

“Fuck yes,” he grits out, his eyes doing their best to stay on the black scenery just outside the front windows. “Swallow my cock mesh’la, swallow it.”

You moan at his words, the vibrations pulsing through his cock as it thrusts into your mouth. You gag around him again, clawing at his thighs for air but his strong hand keeps you down, forcing you to choke on him once again.

“Stay there baby, stay right there.” He demands breathlessly, “Right where you belong.”

Everything about his girthy erection makes your mouth water, your slick dripping down onto the metal floor below from his power over you. You do your best to breathe through it as tears run down your cheeks and saliva pours from your mouth. You’re a sloppy mess for him, and you absolutely love it. You suck loudly as he moves you on his cock, the slick noises squelching obscenely as his precum mixes with your spit. You let him guide you with his fist curled in your hair while he thrusts harshly against your face, desperately seeking his release.

“Oh, good girl.” He groans, finally pulling you off him so you can breathe.

But you’re impatient, flooded with arousal as he praises you. His voice was something that enticed you to no end; the husky, baritone sound sending shivers up your spine. You bend down to suck one of his balls into your mouth, pleasure flowing through your system at the act of satisfying him. You roll the thin flesh in your mouth, then suck it wholly between your lips while pumping him in your hand. His Beskar helmet thuds against his headrest as you do so, his mouth releasing an animalistic growl that makes you shudder with excitement. He quickly lifts his head to look down at you, shaking it as he sighs out.

“You dirty little thing.” He snarls, his other hand joining the one on the control panel as a familiar beeping hits the air. You’re close to Tatooine, close enough to contact a hanger, actually. He leans forward, pressing the buttons that will allow the Crest to hover in place before choosing the land.

“Let me fuck your tits,” he eagerly begs, “Close your eyes mesh’la, close them.”

Though you’re confused for a moment, you do as you’re told, closing your eyes and waiting patiently. Din removes his helmet, dropping it to the floor with a loud thud. He shifts forward in his seat, reaching for your tits and pawing at them roughly; and you lean into his touch, rising to your knees to give him better access to you. As you enjoy his attention, you hear a strange noise; a swishing sound that comes from above you. Din gathers saliva in his mouth before spitting lewdly on your chest, immediately shoving his cock between your breasts as his hands push them together. You gasp out when the wetness hits your soft skin, the new action sending shockwaves down through your hips and thighs. He starts thrusting wildly against you, his breathing raged and hoarse as he stares down at you.

“Maker… I love your fucking tits.” He grunts out, picking up his pace. “Suck on me, suck me into your little mouth.” His bare voice just feels so different, so raw, so him.

Keeping your eyes shut, you angle your head down, opening your mouth and sticking your tongue out to allow his tip to slide inside when he thrusts up against you. Your hands rise, replacing his own as you push your tits together around his needy cock. His hands then move to find their place in your hair, both of them now forcefully shoving you down as he fucks himself into your mouth.

“Baby, swallow me. Just swallow me. Please.” His requests are breathy and frantic as he speaks, his orgasm dangerously close.

You move quickly, dropping your hands and bending down. His wet, throbbing cock slides into your throat, his hands never leaving your head as he rocks you against him.

“You wanna taste me, sweet girl?” he asks, his grunts now loud and aggressive.

You nod as much as you can under his tight grip, mumbling around his cock while he stuffs your throat full of himself.

“Wanna drink my cum? Swallow it like a good girl?”

You whine out at his words, shoving yourself further down on him and swallowing, squeezing his girth as you beg for his release. The groan you’ve become so familiar with punches through the air, his orgasm washing over him as he throws his head back. He ruts up into your mouth, his hot cum spurting out in thick, sticky ropes. You swallow it, eagerly welcoming the salty flavor. The opalescent liquid splatters over your taste buds as your mouth continues to milk his cock until he’s spent.

He releases you, pulling you off of him by your hair and allowing you to gasp for air once he’s given you everything he can. Din pants above you, his body going slack as he relaxes back in his chair.

“You can open your eyes, mesh’la.” He sighs, the metallic tinge of his voice returning.

You open them, standing as you sigh out and smile down at him.

“How are you so good at that?”

“Don’t worry about it,” you smirk, licking your lips.

Even though your chest is littered with the mix of your spit and his precum, you reach for your shirt to cover yourself back up. You then make your way down to the hull, intent on rinsing off before you land.

Excitement rushes through your veins as the Crest finally lands. You’re more than eager to plant your feet on solid ground, to feel the suns shining on your face and breathe in the fresh air. Really, the air was dry and dusty, but at this point anything is better than the week-long recycled oxygen in the ship. While you’ve made very good use of your time spent traveling through hyperspace, you’re ready to spend time on an actual planet, and for more than an hour. Once the ramp is lowered, you’re gone. Your feet slide down the cool metal and onto the sandy floor, arms spread wide as you take in the dry heat. Mando isn’t far behind, strolling down with the child settled in a satchel at his side.

Peli stands at the end of the ramp, ready to welcome your small clan. She begins to greet you but is quickly distracted once the child comes into view. She automatically reaches for him, happily embracing the little critter as she and Din begin conversing about the desolate town further out in the dunes. It’s not long before a plan formulates, and you’re thanking the Maker that Peli still has a working land speeder. You’d sooner help her fix a pit droid than walk to Mos Pelgo.

“Hey, I forgot to tell you something.” you mention, pulling Din aside before he climbs onto the speeder.

When Moff Gideon found Din and the child on Nevarro, this is where you were. You were visiting an old friend of yours, one you’d met and known for most of your teenage years. She hand-crafted most of your jewelry, turning small stones into beautifully crafted works that adorned your body for years. Maybe she could work with some of the gems Din gave to you, make them into masterpieces even more beautiful than the ones you had before.

“I have a friend that lives in town. Would you mind if I visited her?”

He cocks his head at you, curious as to how he hadn’t known about this before. “I don’t know, cyare.” he replies, sounding skeptical as he sighs.

“I’ve known her for years; she made the majority of my jewelry.” You explain, your expression dipping a bit at the mention of your lost items. It’s easy for him to take notice of this, his visor tilting further down while he listens to you. “I was hoping that she could make more.”

You know it’s a lot to ask for; you’re not here to shop, you’re here on a mission. Charting a path through a new network of Mandalorian coverts was the first step in finding the Jedi, the first step in returning the child to his kind. But, at the same time, you don’t know when you’ll be on Tatooine again. You decided not to leave Nevarro once you returned. After the incident with Gideon, you didn’t want to risk being away from him again when he needed you. It truly broke you down, not being able to be there for him and the child. One of the few times that had ever occurred, the only time that had ever occurred. You urge the immense feeling of guilt building in your stomach to go away, shoving it aside so you can think try to think clearly. Besides, you’re not asking Din to stop everything and go with you, you would just go by yourself. You hold your breath as you weigh out the possibilities in your mind, waiting for his response.

“Okay,” he nods, turning and climbing onto the bike. “We can make time for that.”

You release the air from your lungs, relieved by his kindness and understanding. You make sure the child is secure in his small satchel at the side of the bike before you climb on. He’s quite sturdy, the Mandalorian, his built frame and Beskar armor making it easy for you to cling tightly to him as he takes off toward the sandy dunes.

Din eyes the town as you sit behind him, tilting his head and surveying your surroundings. You, however, are quite familiar with the setting. It does make you wonder, though, why you yourself had never known of a Mandalorian in Mos Pelgo. You’d never seen one, heard of one, or even thought that one might be hiding out somewhere on the planet. Din must be thinking the same thing because the next words out of his mouth nearly mirror your inner dialogue.

“If you’ve spent so much time here, how come you never knew about this Mandalorian?” he asks quietly, turning his head to the side as he looks back at you.

“I was just thinking the same thing…” you reply, now eyeing the familiar town with suspicion.

The speeder stalls next to a dusty cantina, one you’d been to once or twice while staying in town. Instead of going in with Din, you decide to lay out on the bike and bask in the hot sun. Traveling in the dessert environment was exhausting; you could barely even get up this morning after spending the night in a Tuskan camp about halfway out. The sun drained you of any and all energy, and you just didn’t feel like getting up yet. Lucky for you, Din doesn’t really care. Your Mandalorian appears more than unsure of this place, so he’s perfectly fine with you and the kid resting outside while he handles business elsewhere.

You sigh, enjoying the hot rays while listening to the faint rumble of Din’s voice speaking inside the cantina. The smirk on your face is evident as you listen to him, his sass quite apparent as the bartender wonders what this mystery Mandalorian looks like. Suddenly, the ground beneath you rumbles, knocking you off the bike and onto the sand below. The first thought you have is to grab the child. You look up to search for him, but he’s gone. Where the hell did he go?! Din rushing over to the bar’s entrance, looking around and then down at you. There’s a man at his side that you don’t notice too much through your panic. The surrounding sand begins swimming in a sea of waves, and you’re completely terrified as you try to scramble to your feet.

Din leans down, grabbing your arms and hauling you onto the wooden steps with him. He holds you alongside him as you scan the ground, watching the ginormous creature slither beneath it. It eventually surfaces, devouring a Bantha in a single bite before returning to the sand below.

“Maybe we can work something out.” The man next to you offers.

You’re aware that Cobb Vanth had been the marshal of Mos Pelgo for some time now, but you never knew he wore Mandalorian armor. Either you never saw him in it, or you didn’t recognize it when you did. You did know though, without a doubt, that he was no Mandalorian.

“Been a while since I’ve seen you around here, sweetheart.” He smiles, sitting with you and Din inside that same cantina. The three of you retreated inside after the behemoth vanished, and you were both disgusted and relieved to see the child hiding in a spittoon.

Din stiffens next to you at the nickname, and you can’t help but smirk. You quickly shove the curling edges of your lips back down, though. With Cobb’s flirtatious nature and Din’s overt claim on you, you’re interested to see how this will play out.

“I didn’t know you were so familiar.” Din says, his voice low and predatory as he speaks. He’s leaning an elbow on the table as he sits next to you, watching the marshal closely.

“Of course,” Cobb smirks, “I’d be a fool to keep my eyes off her.”

Cobb leans in, his hand moving to hold your chin with his thumb and forefinger. Din’s quick to deny him, his own hand moving up to grab his wrist. The two men make eye contact before Din tosses Cobb’s wrist aside, his own hand tightening into a fist as it rests on the table. You smirk down at your glass at his actions, doing nothing to push it away this time.

“Never knew you stole Mandalorian armor, Vanth.” You interject, “Didn’t take you for the type.” You take a sip of your drink while eyeing him, narrowing your stare. The fact that he had the armor at all made your skin crawl.

“The type?” he responds, cocking his head in offense. You can by the way he says it that he intends on speaking further, but you cut him off.

“A thief.” You seethe.

“Hey, come on now,” he continues, pointing a finger at you.

“Look,” Din interrupts, leaning on the table. “We’ve struck a deal. I think it’s best we pursue it.”

Even though he’s just as enraged as you are that Cobb has this armor, he continues de-escalating the situation. He��s right, we need to focus. Once Din and Cobb agree on where to go first, Din turns to you. He suggests that while they’re out searching for the Krayt Dragon, you could venture off to see your friend. You’d told him that you had no prior experience with the Krayt, so you really wouldn’t be of much use. Your friend’s home was on the outskirts of town, and the monster didn’t often stray that far. You’d heard the stories, but never seen it in action, not until today.

“Actually, that sounds like a good idea.” You respond with a smile.

You offer to take the child with you, but he refuses, claiming that you should get some ‘alone time’. Wow, you’re starting to feel more and more like a mother each day.

There’s no way you’re getting back on that speeder, not after spending so many hours on it just to travel out here. Your ass is still a little numb from sitting on the hard leather, so missing out on being part of this little scouting party was music to your ears. You also secretly hoped Din wouldn’t come with you when you went. If your friend could craft some new jewelry for you from the stones he’d given you, you thought it’d be best to tell him as a surprise.

“I promise I’ll be back soon. Are you sure you’re alright?” he asks as the four of you make your way out of the bar.

“I’ll be fine,” you smile. “She’s on the other end of town, but I’ll be back here by the time you return.” He looks at you, silent and still. When you stop at the side of the speeder, he reaches for you, holding your hands in his.

“Ner cyare, I’ll be fine,” you insist. You know he just wants to make sure you’re safe, but you want him to be able to focus while he’s gone. There truly is nothing for him to worry about.

His hands squeeze yours lightly, his heart beating just a bit harder as you speak those words to him. When you were just friends, you never spoke Mando’a with him. He didn’t often speak it around you, and when he did it was quick and short. But now, the words meant something more to you. His loving nicknames all derived from the ancient dialect, and it made you want to learn more about it. You do it in a display of affection toward both him and his creed, your own way of showing him the respect and love he deserves.

“Oh my gosh! Where did you even get these?!”

When you finally got to Europa’s shop, she was quick to get to the point. She was immediately fascinated by the rocks you pulled out of your pockets, the rare gems Din worked so hard to find.

“A Mandalorian I’ve been travelling with found them for me.” You reply while admiring the stunning gems sat out on the counter.

“Wait, Cobb?”

“Um, no.” you respond, “Cobb Vanth isn’t a Mandalorian.” It comes out sassier than you intended, so you’re quick to change the topic. “I was wondering if you’d be able to make some jewelry out of them?”

“That’s it!” she shouts, slamming a hand down on the table and pointing at you. “I knew something was different about you!”

You roll your eyes at her annoying comment, “Yeah, I know. I need replacements for pretty much… everything.”

“What happened to them? They were so beautiful!”

“Yeah, I know.” You repeat, glancing down at your sandals. “I got in trouble, and I… I just lost them. I figured these stones would be as best a replacement as any. They mean even more to me than the old ones did.”

Europa eyes you for a minute, deciding whether or not she should pry a little harder or back off entirely. Thankfully, she chooses the ladder.

“It’ll take a day or two, but I’ll do my best to get it done before you leave.” She responds.

“Really?” you perk up, your expression lightening.

You’re surprised she’s so willing to help; not because she isn’t a great friend, but because the stones you brought in were quite precious. Breaking down the material alone would cost at least two thousand credits and making the pieces into jewelry would nearly double that.

“You’re the best.” You grin, leaning over the counter and pulling her into a big bear hug.

Once you’re back into town, you see the speeder Peli lent the three of you. It’s sat out in front of the cantina you visited earlier, entirely empty and rider-less. Well, that was fast.

“Cyar’ika.”

Oh, that voice. That beautiful baritone voice calling out to you, only you. You close your eyes, smiling while you sigh. The Mandalorian’s presence was one that terrified any that dare stand in his path, but to you, that couldn’t be further from the truth. When he’s around, you’re overcome with feelings of security and love. You welcome the warm, strong embrace your Mandalorian’s existence gave you whenever he was near. When you open your eyes, you turn to your left.

“How did it go?” you ask as you stride over to him, beaming as bright as the suns.

Din reaches out for you, taking your hands in his as he pulls you closer to him. He sighs happily at the contact, and you suddenly realize how much you missed him in those few hours apart. He explains to you the agreement he and Cobb have come across with the Tuskans, and that you’re meant to set up camp in their village tonight.

“Is it the same one we stayed in on our way out here?”

“No, it’s a different one. But they’re just as friendly.”

“You always say that.” you giggle, “No one ever likes the Sand People.”

“That’s because no one ever respects them.”

Respect was a huge thing for Din, and it always has been. He’s had to fight for everything his entire life, he knows what he deserves, and he knows how reverence is earned. It’s easy to understand why he’d be upset by seeing another person or creed be disrespected, especially on their home planet.

Without wasting time, you hop back onto the speeder. The little one is fast asleep in his brown satchel beside you, likely tired out from all the traveling and hours spent in the sun. And you’re not far behind him, because once you settle in behind Mando, you cuddle into his cape and decide to rest your eyes, too.

The Tuskans are stubborn, but once everything is agreed upon, everyone seems to start settling in for the night. Tents are pitched and a fire is lit, warming those gathered around it. The child is asleep in his pram, tucked away in the tent you and Din will later share. The suns truly tied the little guy out. You sit in front of the fire as Din and Cobb set up their beds for the night. Cobb is the first to join you, plopping down beside you on the sand. The marshal shuffles closer to you, reaching a hand up to turn you to face him. You’re surprised by the physical touch, and he realizes this as soon as your eyes meet.

“I didn’t mean to get off on the wrong foot back there, sugar.” He starts, his voice gentle as he apologizes.

You reach up to snatch his wrist, shoving it away from your face. He has nothing to apologize for regarding your earlier conversation, you were the aggressive one. What he should be apologetic for is stealing sacred Mandalorian armor… and thinking he can touch you so freely.

He goes on to explain in more detail that he didn’t steal the armor, he traded it, and used it to protect his town. You stare into the fire as you continue conversing, ultimately beginning to soften under his relentless justifications. Maybe he did have a point. Once Cobb sees you relax a bit, he reaches up, laying his arm across your shoulders. The diminishing anger within you quickly returns at this action, but before you can react, the call of your name pulls your attention elsewhere.

Mando stands a few feet away, his Beskar gleaming against the roaring fire. The flames dance across the smooth armor as he looks to you, holding out his hand. He looks so threatening from this angle, so large and strong. You rise from the ground, happily striding over to him while you admire his attractive frame. Instead of taking your hand, he holds his arms out to you. He embraces you fully once you’re close enough, grabbing hold of you and pulling you in. He didn’t often hug you in public, and the act causes butterflies to erupt in your tummy. You innocently wonder why he chose to hug you just now, especially in front of Vanth. Who are you kidding? You know exactly why.

One of his hands ventures down to your waist while the other holds the back of your head as you rest against his shoulder, nuzzling into his neck. He hums lowly, tightening his hold on your hip. He pulls your body flush against him, sliding his hand around to rest just above your backside.

“How are you doing, cyare?” His voice surprisingly gruff and low as he asks.

He’s holding you closely, but you can tell he isn’t looking down at you. His helmet is tilted up, continuing to stare at where you were seated, or rather, at what’s next to where you were seated.

“I’m doing fine, are you okay?” you ask, leaning back to peer up at him.

“Yes.” He responds quietly, continuing to look further behind you.

“Don’t worry about Cobb,” you smirk, curling your fingers around his cape. “I don’t want him. I want you.”

You’re hoping that the words will bring his attention back to you, the same words you spoke before your first intimate night together, but they don’t. Instead, he moves both hands down to your ass, fanning his fingers out over the muscles and squeezing gently as he speaks.

“Let me know if he touches you again.” He responds, a bit louder than he had been before.

Cobb huffs loudly behind you, no doubt seeing and now hearing your Mandalorian’s display. Honestly, you’re reveling in the current situation. Din’s possessiveness over you continues to grow, and you absolutely love it. The Mandalorian’s claim definitely gave you strong feelings of power and protection, and you swear you’ll never take that or him for granted.

Before you can respond, Din turns you around and ushers you back to the campfire, that strong hand returning to your lower back. More Tuskans circle around as the two of you sit, offering you small melons to drink from. The water was disgusting, but you weren’t an idiot. A kind gesture is a kind gesture.

“You drink it.” Din explains to Cobb, clearly annoyed by his ignorance.

It’s not long before Cobb’s arrogance gets the better of him as he stands to argue with the closest Raider. As usual, Din is quick to de-escalate the situation, thrusting his flame thrower out to get their attention before scolding them as they bicker like children. You roll your eyes at Cobb’s immaturity; if he was smaller and green, it’d be like you were back on the ship all over again. Except Din didn’t use his flame thrower on the kid, if anything, it was the other way around.

Din’s hand roams your thigh, caressing your knee as he speaks with the surrounding individuals about how they intend to approach the Krayt tomorrow morning. Even though the information that led you here turned out to be a dead end, you know you’re going to finish the job. Din is a good man, he’s staying to help these people, whether or not that gets him closer to the Jedi.

“Oh shit.”

The Krayt Dragon just swallowed one of the Tuskans instead of their bated Bantha, so it looks like you’ll need to adjust your strategy. You let the Sand People, Cobb, and Din sort it out while you hang back with the kid. It’s been too long since you had some one-on-one time with him, the suns having double his nap-time schedule. No matter how much you traveled by his side, you can never get enough of him.

Even though Din doesn’t ‘allow it’, you’d brought along his favorite metal ball for him to play with. What else was he supposed to do? Play in the sand? For a child who can levitate things and choke someone without even touching them, sand was simply too boring for his creative mind.

“Check it out,” you whisper, your back now turned to the group. You pull the metal ball from your pocket, showing it to him with a wide grin.

He squeals in delight, causing Din to spin around to see what it is that caused his foundling to cry out so loudly. You turn toward him, waving a hand as you excuse the sound. When Din returns to the group, you focus your attention back on the little Jedi. Well, soon-to-be Jedi.

“Ready?” you ask, smirking mischievously.

His little teeth peak out from his widened mouth, his eyes bright and ears wiggling as he nods his tiny head. You hold your hand out, placing the silver ball in the center. You close your eyes and steady your breathing, connecting to the ball’s energy before lifting it slowly into the air. When you open them, you guide it over to the child. He reaches up, catching it and laughing wildly.

“Shh!” you respond quickly. “We can’t play this game if you aren’t quiet!” you giggle, holding your hand out. “Return it to me.”

“What’s got him all riled up?” Din asks, leaning down next to you.

“Shit!” you jump, your hand landing on your chest. “Fuck, you scared me.”

“If his first words are cuss words, I’m blaming you.” he says flatly, pointing a gloved finger in your direction. You blush, pondering the usage of new vocabulary when in the child’s presence.

“Hey! I told you this stays on the ship.”

Din reaches forward, snatching the ball from the child before walking back to help plan with the group. You sigh, slumping forward to rest your head in your hand and your elbow on the knee of your crossed legs.

“Told you,” you huff out, “We gotta learn to be more quiet.”

You have to admit, you love seeing Din so confident. The way he speaks to the townspeople about their shared plan with the Tuskans, convincing them that it’s their only option, that he’s here to help and lead them, makes your admiration for him grow that much more. Din truly is a leader, and you’re honored to be so close to him, so close to a man that is this powerful and sensible.

Once the plan is set, everyone begins loading the Banthas with weapons and explosives. You decide to go tell Din that you’re going to stop by Europa’s store once more before heading out, but he’s nowhere to be found, and the Child isn’t around, either.

“Hey, where did Mando go?” you ask Cobb, pulling him aside.

He shrugs, “Said he was heading off to some shop. He’ll be back before we take off.”

Before you can ask any more questions, you hear the familiar sound of Din’s jetpack flying above you. Fear floods your veins as you look up at him, the child squealing in delight as wind rushes past his big ears. Nothing made you feel more like a helicopter mom than when Din held his foundling hundreds of feet up in the air.

“Where did you go?” you ask, walking over to him once he lands.

“I visited your friend.” He responds, handing the child to you. With how eagerly the child is reaching for you, you’re surprised he hasn’t flown himself through the air and into your arms just to get to you faster.

“I know, I know,” you giggle, poking at his nose. “I missed you too. Are you hungry?”

While you converse with your little green baby, you see Din fumble with something out of the corner of your eye. He quickly shoves a small black box into his belt before looking up at you, innocently shifting his weight. He tilts his head and holds his hands behind his back, doing his best to shrug it off. Damn, he could be so cute sometimes.

“What?” he shrugs. You smirk, shaking your head.

“You’re so cute.”

“Hey, Mandalorians aren’t cute.” He’s quick to respond, stepping into your personal space as he points a finger at you.

“You’re cute to me,” you pout, leaning forward to press a kiss on his gloved fingertip.

He sighs out, lowering his arm. That Beskar helmet shakes sarcastically at you before his arm returns, but instead of pointing at you, he cups your cheek. His thumb strokes lovingly over your soft skin, taking his time to stare at your captivating complexion.

“You’re beautiful, I want you to know that.” He whispers.

“I do know that.” You respond, smiling at him and leaning into his touch.

“With or without your jewelry.” He adds. His comment makes you frown just the slightest bit. You know he says it with the best intentions, but it still makes you a bit sad.

You wonder why he’d mention your jewelry. Although, it isn’t a secret that you haven’t been yourself without your metal adornments, and your curiosity quickly fades to admiration. He cares for you so deeply; he just wants you to feel whole… always.

“What was in that little box?” you ask, smirking up at him.

“You wanna know?” he asks, tilting his head.

You nod, glancing down when he reaches for his belt, pulling out the small black container.

“Open it.”

Thank you for reading <3

Chapter Seven: Gray

Mando’a Translations

Blurred Lines Taglist: @kyjoraven @din-is-a-real-mando @marvelouslyme96

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vanillacaramelhoney · 4 years ago

Text

Different (10)

Pairing(s): Five Hargreeves x Reader

Summary: Klaus chuckled. “Our little psycho.”

Warnings: None

A/N: I have this problem where I lose motivation to write, but the moment I get it back, all I can do is write and I end up mass-posting chapters

Masterlist

Previous | Next

"Three days?"

Luther took the cup of coffee that Allison offered him. "Well, that's what they said," he told her. "Or, Five, I guess."

"The old bastard did mention the apocalypse, come to think of it," Klaus said. "He just left out the part about how soon."

"But can we trust him?" Allison asked. "I don't know if you've noticed, but Five's a little-" she stopped to whistle, pointing to her head.

Klaus chuckled. "Our little psycho."

"And what about his friend?" Allison asked. "Did she say anything about it?"

"She was kind of busy chasing after Diego," Luther told her, glancing at his brother. "But, he was pretty convincing. If they weren't trying to stop an apocalypse, those two lunatics wouldn't be chasing after them."

"That's why they were after them?" Diego asked.

"Yeah." Diego sat back in his seat, jaw clenched at the idea that they were after YN, who probably only had Five to defend her.

"What did they even see?" Allison asked.

Luther looked at her, mouth open, and uncertain of what to say.

"Uh, apparently, we all fought together against whoever was responsible," Luther explained.

It was silent as they looked to him for further explanation.

He clicked his tongue and stood. "OK, so, here's the plan," he started.

Before he could say more, the three were objecting. He looked back at them.

"What actually happened the first time around?"

"Yeah," Diego agreed. "What are you not telling us? Come on, big boy, spit it out."

No one spoke as Luther nervously looked to all of them, then down at his cup. He hesitated, bringing the cup up.

"We died." It was impossible for the siblings to hear.

"What was that?" Allison asked, leaning forward.

Luther coughed. "I said, uh," he stuttered, "we died."

YN climbed through the rubble and snow, trying to get back to the grocery store as soon as possible.

Her body was much more used to the cold than the average person, her powers helping considerably.

The woman was more worried about Five, however, who didn't have the same resistance to the cold.

She had left him alone for the majority of the day in hopes of finding more food before the weather got even worse.

But while she was out, the snow kicked up. She was stuck navigating her way back through a snowstorm, worrying about how Five was doing at the same time.

YN's vision was limited through the falling snow, but she could faintly see the familiar sight of the store.

The building was just a temporary settling place until the weather evened out. It was also more intact than its surrounding buildings, making it the best choice.

YN pushed on, determined to make it back, and confirm that the idiot hadn't managed to freeze himself to death.

She pushed through the door, immediately dumping her bag and heaving a breath.

The room was much warmer than outside, the only reminder of the cold being the shrill shriek of wind heard through the walls.

"Jesus, I didn't think you were going to make it back alive." YN looked over at Five, who looked relieved yet worried.

He was by her in an instant as she wiped off as much snow from her clothes as she could.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

"Yeah, I'm fine," she assured him. "I was more worried about you."

"What? Why? I'm not the one who was out in the storm."

"You're also not the one that can stand the cold," YN countered. "I had half a mind to think that I would find you freezing to death."

Five tugged her over to a fire that burned and sat her close to it.

"I'm not completely defenseless against the elements," he muttered.

"Your dad teach you guys how to make fires in apocalyptic scenarios?" she teased.

Five rolled his eyes and sat next to her.

"I'm just kidding," she laughed, pressing a kiss to his cheek before leaning her head on his shoulder.

"Have I ever told you how hilarious you are?" His words were drowned in sarcasm.

"Oh, thank you very much, sir."

"I must admit, in all the time I've been here, I've never met anyone quite like the pair of you," the Handler spoke as she led Five and YN down a stone path to a roundabout.

People greeted the woman as they passed.

"Hazel and Cha Cha, for example, are talented, certainly," she said, "but they can't see the big picture."

YN zoned out as she droned out, taking in the familiar scenery with dread in her gut.

This was the last place she wanted to be, especially with all that had been going on.

They followed her into the busy building, a man taking the Handler's coat.

"I'd like to discuss the logistics of my family's safety at your earliest convenience," Five told her. "As well as this body replacement."

The three of them climbed the stairs as they spoke.

"Such chutzpah," the Handler laughed. YN gave her an odd look at the word. "It's refreshing, I'll admit. Slow down, Five, all in good time. In fact, now that you've finally agreed to work with us, we've got all the time in the world."

YN leaned in close to Five. "Are you sure this is a good idea?"

"No, but we don't have a choice, really."

They followed after the Handler as she rambled, leading them up to a specific floor.

"All the people on this floor are case managers, each one responsible for one major event at a time," she explained, leading them down a hall and turning to the first room.

Inside was a long line of desks that seemed to stretch beyond natural possibility.

YN's eyes widened at the sight of it all. "Holy shit."

"So many of them."

"Impressive, isn't it?" the Handler asked. "Being a part of something...so grand."

The clicking from all of the typewriters made YN nauseous.

"Come along." The Handler continued a step ahead of them.

"Whenever someone chooses the wrong path, and the timeline is changed, the Commission gets a report from field agents on the ground," she explained. "These field reports are sorted and assigned to a case manager. They determine if anyone needs to be removed from the equation to assure that their event happens as it should."

She led them to another room, lined with pipes. A woman stood inside, doing her job.

"Based on that determination, the case manager sends instructions via pneumatic tube to temporal assassins like the two of you formally were. Any queries so far?"

She looked at the two.

"Yeah," Five said. "Who was the case manager handling us?"

"Ah, you mean the apocalypse!"

They were led back to the case managers and down the line to a woman.

"Five, YN, meet Dot." The woman looked at them with a bright smile, which YN couldn't help but return. "Dot is responsible for all apocalypse matters. In fact, it was Dot here who first flagged your appearance in 2019."

"No hard feelings," Dot said.

"Well, you pair certainly put us through the wringer," the Handler smiled. "Outsmarting two of our so-called best temporal assassins. If that doesn't spell leadership material-" the woman paused as her voice picked up, bringing everyone around to a stop, "-I just don't know."

Everyone resumed their work as the Handler showed them to their new desks that happened to be placed inconveniently far from each other.

The two settled in their respective seats, having no choice but to work.

----Taglist

@fancytravelerbird @megasimpleplan4ever @yikes-matey @we-all-are-strange @flowertoty @rasberrymay @lilacs-lavender @margotsfandoms @nibbles7192 @colie-babi @thegirlwholikestomanythings @halparkebitch @faith-quake @aesthetically-hailey

#tua x reader #umbrella academy x reader #number five x reader #five hargreeves x reader #five x reader #tua #tua x you #The Umbrella Academy #Umbrella Academy #umbrella academy imagine #number five #number five x you #five hargreeves #five hargreeves x you

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miscellaneous-bnha · 4 years ago

Text

Poly! Ghosts Hawks/Shouto x Fem! Reader

Commissioned by @bobawithpomegranate

CW: Nothing too bad. Strangers to friends to FWB to lovers, Some light angst, happy ending, Shouto eats Hawks’ cum to prove a point, Hawks and Shouto throwing shade at each other, spitroasting, reader is constantly overstimmed at the end --------------------------------------------------------

Your quirk quite literally made you see dead people.

Thankfully, you don’t actually have to see what caused their death, but rather during their best moment before their passing.

Your ability to interact with them, however, solely depends on their state of mind during their passing.

For people who were in grief over their passing, they were often too hysterical to communicate with.

People who’d come to accept their passing were easier to talk to, but touching was relatively impossible because they were on their way into transitioning into another life. Their energy was too little to physically interact with.

People who weren’t in grief over their passing, but still struggled to accept it would be able to make physical contact with you as well as avoid the hysteria.

In other words:

You hadn’t expected to literally run into pro heroes Hawks and Shouto

3 months after their supposed passing.

You were skeptical because no bodies were ever found.

But now you knew.

And it was awkward.

------------------------------------

“So…” you slide into your apartment with the ghosts of the former(?) pro-heroes shortly behind you, “you died during the last villain attack, then?” Hawks shrugs.

“Technically, yes, but also no. Do you remember what the villain’s quirk was?”

“To make people ‘disappear’ or something?”

“Yeah, something like that. Come to find out, their quirk turns people into ghosts. We don’t actually know if we’re dead or alive.”

“That would explain your continued existence then.”

For the next several hours, the three of you talk about the possibilities, but with no safe way of testing any of your theories, you opt to just giving them a space to stay, even if they don’t actually need it.

The next morning, you thank your lucky stars that you don’t have work, considering you would have been 4 hours late by now. You’re also slightly unnerved to find the both of them watching you.

“Sorry, but there isn’t exactly a whole lot we can do anymore. Watching you make funny faces in your sleep is the best we have.” Todoroki shrugs as you sputter indignantly,

“I don’t make funny faces.” “Sorry to tell you, but he’s not wrong. Your face is pretty funny.” you glare at the winged pro,

“You’re not helping.” He shrugs,

“Never said I was trying to.”

You decide to let them pick a Netflix show to leave on overnight, making sure it would continue to run for several hours uninterrupted as you slept.

--------------------------------------

the show they ended up coming to agree on was some weird trashy reality show.

You didn’t even know it’s existed.

But that’s ok

You didn’t need to know.

Watching them float around your apartment and explore was… a little unnerving, to say the least.

Considering this was your private space and all

But they were good company

Hawks talks a lot about how he misses fried chicken, and that you should eat some for him every time you try and get food together

Only to be interrupted by Todoroki

Honestly, you thought it was to be like “leave her alone and let her eat what she wants”

But then boy really was out here like “she should eat cold soba for me instead”

Like wow, thanks.

-----------------------------------

“C’mon, mini Endeavor! Don’t be so cold.”

‘Wow, talk about shots fired.’ you raise your eyebrows, turning to Shouto

“Call me that again, and I’ll roast you alive you KFC reject.”

‘Oh yikes; returned serve.’ you look at Hawks from the corner of your eye.

“Oooh, feisty kitty. Little calico catboy. Besides, we’re ghosts; I don’t think you can kill me like this.”

‘Saucy. Pro Hero Hawks confesses to knowing what catboys are.’ you bite your lip, raising your glass to take a sip.

“Test me again and you’ll find out, Red Robin.”

‘He’s got you there.’ you nod to yourself.

“Fair enough.”

It’s silent for a moment; you set your glass down and look up just in time to see Hawks smirk.

“If it makes you feel better… your dad tastes about as awful as he acts.” It doesn’t make Shouto feel better, but it’s good to know that the most damage he can do is strangle Hawks.

----------------------------------------

“They’re good company” you decide

But you’ve been pent up for almost a month now, and you decide that you’re almost horny enough to rent a hotel room to ‘solve your problems’

But you don’t because that’s a little weird

That doesn’t stop you from fantasizing though.

You don’t expect them to be watching you in the morning one day

-----------------------------------------

“I thought I put Netflix on for y’all.” You turn into your pillow, groaning quietly as your legs and back stretch.

“We were watching it…” Todoroki starts,

“Then a certain little missy started making noises.” you grunt, perturbed.

“Okay, so I sleep talk. What about it?”

“I don’t know if you could call that *sleep talking*, per se…” You peek an eye open at Hawks, squinting when you notice his grin, “What do you think, catboy?”

“Definitely wouldn’t call it sleep talking.” He says from the other side of you. You don’t expect the small smirk on his lips, nor do you expect the way he stares at you so intensely.

“What… do you mean…?” you shove yourself further under your sheets, heart rising up into your throat.

“Sounds like someone’s a *little*...” Hawks looms over you, lips next to your ear, “pent up.”

You shiver hard, but cough and try to save face.

“How do I know you’re not lying to me?” you grumble, closing your eyes as if you were trying to go back to sleep.

“I bet if we take those pretty panties of yours, they’ll be soaked right now.” Hawks presses, eyes growing hungrier.

You flounder for a moment, and that’s all it takes for Hawks to make his move.

“Do you want some help, birdie? Want me to use my fingers on that pretty little pussy?” You shudder and whine, growing embarrassingly wet,

“I bet you’re just dripping from the thought, aren’t you?”

“Sh-shut up…” you spit weakly, pressing your thighs together.

“C’mon, why don’t you let me help?” His hands are slapped away before they can pull the sheets from you.

“Maybe she doesn’t want you to touch her,” Shouto slides his hand down your back; before you can whine in protest, more than willing to follow through, he continues.

“Maybe she’d rather have a real man touch her, not some ‘Original Recipe’ asshole.” You laugh into the pillow despite yourself.

Even now, Shouto somehow manages to make this into some strange competition they’ve been having, but you don’t complain when two pairs of— admittedly cold— hands pull away the sheets.

Especially when you’re no longer finding yourself in need of a hotel room.

----------------------------------------------

Somehow, you end up being Friends with Benefits with both of them.

Though they only ever used their fingers and mouths on you, but you weren’t going to complain

“It’s the least we could do, since you’re giving us somewhere to linger and free entertainment.”

Or so they said, anyway.

Somehow they learn just when you’re in desperate need of their touch before you even walk in through the door, almost instantly tugging you in and throwing your clothes off.

Despite the strange circumstances, you end up growing closer to the both of them over time

Part of you dreads the day you figure out how to reverse the villain's quirk

Assuming it’s possible

Not only were they both the best bed partners you could ask for

You genuinely enjoy their company and shady banter

But in moments when you’re all huddled up on the couch, watching yet another trashy reality show

You forget they’re ghosts in the first place

-------------------------------------

“God, I can’t believe Jasmine.” You scoff, throwing a piece of popcorn at the TV.

“Right? Paula didn’t deserve that shit. That girl is a queen.” Hawks grumbles in agreement, groaning when the interviewers cut to Jasmine.

“Agreed. Paula is queen.”

“It’s a miracle the two of you haven’t completely fried your brains watching this.” Shouto rolls his eyes, reading a book you brought home the other day.

“Shut up. You’re just mad Bernadette got voted off last week.” Hawks throws a kernel at Shouto, but— expectedly— it goes right through him.

“Bernie was the only decent girl and you both know it.” He glares, borderline pouting.

You smile, bittersweet. You grab the kernel that phased right through Shouto and continue watching the episode in silence.

You’re too lost in thought to notice the way they look at you.

-------------------------------------------

At one point, their words and touches become so much sweeter, even outside the bedroom

When, however, is a question you couldn’t even begin to answer.

Some days, you wake up to the two of them brushing your cheeks, your hair.

Shouto grabs your hand gently, planting a soft peck on it with a quiet ‘Good morning, sweetheart.’

Hawks following up with a kiss to your temple, “how’d you sleep?”

Other times, they would greet you at the door, asking about your day as they helped you out of your coat, taking your bag from you.

It felt so domestic, so peaceful, so *loving*

you were afraid of it shattering like glass under a sledgehammer

But as they say, all good things must come to an end

-------------------------------------------

“Good morning, hummingbird.” You groan when Hawks presses a kiss to your eyelid, warm fingers tracing over your cheek.

Warm?

You open your eyes, whipping your head to look at the winged hero, “Hawks? You’re warm??”

He grins, pretending to be bashful, “Oh, why thank you! I’ve been told I’m rather nice.”

“No no no, you’re warm. Not cold.” You grab his hand and inspect it, thumbs pressing into his palms. He grunts,

“Well, now that you mention it, the room *is* a bit cold.” You hardly pay attention to him though when you’re suddenly stumbling out into the living room.

“Shou? Shouto?” You find him sitting on the couch. He looks up from the book, shocked.

“Yes? What is it? Are you okay??” He stands, meeting you halfway as you press your hands to his cheeks.

“Warm…” you whisper, heart thumping painfully in your chest.

“Well, at least your left side is.” You pull your hands away from his cheeks as he looks at you baffled, then to Hawks.

“Is everything alright? What’s going on?”

“I think… I think you’re human again.” You laugh humorlessly, and they look at you skeptically.

“Human? How? We didn’t do anything.” you give an exaggerated shrug,

“I don’t know, but how else am I supposed to explain your temperature.” They stay silent. You expect them to.

A pregnant pause, then you let out a shaky breath.

“I gotta call someone…” you tug at your hair, “Before someone finds out and I get accused for kidnapping you both.”

“Well, let’s not be too hasty, I mean” — Hawks shrugs— “everyone thinks we’re dead anyway. Wait and see if we stay warm.”

“And if they find out you’re here? Then what?” You grimace, more at the idea of them disappearing than the consequences, but you also knew that you wouldn’t be able to financially handle the backlash.

They both stay silent, Hawks giving you a shaky smile. “Then… just a couple of days. Just to make sure we’re actually back.”

--------------------------------------

The next two days were unbearable

The tension in the air thick enough to cut with a knife

The timing of the universe must have been lined up for this very moment, your first two days off in months leaving you stuck between them on the couch

Nobody said a word, not even when Bernadette made a surprise comeback in season 9

Thinking about constantly being alone again made your heart turn to ice

But as it stood, all you had connecting you was the ghosting quirk and your FWB relationship

But as quick as it came, it was gone

The number of officials flooding your apartment and interrogating you was overwhelming, but Hawks and Shouto were quick to step in and explain

At least, everything they could anyway

According to the association, they couldn’t squeeze anything out of the villain responsible for changing Hawks and Shouto into ghosts

But once they confirmed that you were not a threat, they left you with a “light” warning

In other words: “Stay away. You’ve done enough”

---------------------------------------------

Your house was so quiet, yet the T.V was on, your phone playing music, trying desperately to distract yourself with the book Shouto was reading. Nothing worked.

You still felt the way their presence lingered, practically permeated the room. You couldn’t sleep in your own bed anymore, sheets feeling far too warm. Sitting anywhere other than the middle seat on your couch made you feel like you were taking up someone’s space. Your kitchen seemed to have just a little too much space to move.

Two months pass since they’ve left, and it never seemed to get better. Rather than stressed, you just felt... tired. You wanted to feel anything but tired, but the echoes of their banter only reminded you that they were gone…

And you were alone once again.

You had no way of contacting them, and they were probably far too busy with the press to even think about the nobody girl who found them wandering.

Days blended together until it all came falling down. You fell into watching the news, the tabloids all celebrating the return of their favorite heroes Hawks and Shoto. Even Endeavor seemed uncharacteristically floored to see his son alive and well.

You laughed bitterly; ‘I would bet money on the fact that he probably rolled his eyes when he saw his father.’ wry smile on your lips.

Maybe another cup of coffee would be worthwhile.

--------------------------------------------

You told yourself daily to just get over the unrequited feelings, yet you still yearned to see them every day.

You wished it were easier to pretend they were never here at all

Especially when they did it so well.

Though you supposed it was all the hero work talking.

You couldn’t bring yourself to finish the last season you’d been watching with them, memories still too fresh even if it’s been more than a couple of months since you touched it

Netflix did a wonderful job at reminding you constantly

Eventually, you stopped watching netflix too

But couldn’t bring yourself to stop paying for a subscription, naively believing they would be back to continue as if nothing changed

You loathed it

Yet it was the only illusion you had left

Until it wasn’t an illusion anymore

---------------------------------------------

It’s half passed one in the morning when you hear a knock at your door, frantic and desperate. You stumble out off the couch, nearly ramming your body into the door in an attempt to peek through the peephole.

You couldn’t believe your eyes when a flash of crimson feathers crossed your vision.

You yank the door open, wondering if this was some sort of cruel dream when you’re brutally reminded that it’s not, and that Hawks is-- indeed-- standing in front of you. In the flesh.

“Hey birdie.” he starts, looking far too exhausted.

“Hawks…” you whisper breathless, lungs rattling in disbelief when you inhale.

“Yeah… it’s me. The calico wanted to be here too, but his dad wouldn’t let him out of the house.” he smiles, strained.

“Shouto… wait, why are you here?” you glance around his form nervously, expecting to see blood. He swallows a thick lump,

“Can’t a bird just come say hello?”

You wheeze, smile more like a grimace, but you step aside and let him in. He walks around, more than well acquainted with every corner. Fingers running over your furniture, as if he were still trying to feel the memories that lingered.

“S’ colder than I remember.” he whispers and you nod,

“Yeah… Heater broke some time last month. Still waiting for the landlord to get back to me.” he doesn’t reply, staring at your bedroom door.

It’s painfully silent, but you’re afraid he’ll disappear if you say something now. You can’t tell what he’s thinking, not with his back facing you. Then he turns, and suddenly you’re far too aware of all the words he has to say to you.

For the first time in months, you feel like you’re burning alive.

--------------------------------------------

By the time Hawks was through with you, the sun was high in the sky.

You didn’t think you’d be able to say you got dicked down hard enough to stay stuck in bed, yet here you were

Stuck in bed

His fingers run through your hair, sweet words of adoration leaving his lips with every kiss he presses to your skin

You can hardly believe that Hawks is still here

Even after he’s spent all night and all morning fucking it into you

You don’t remember the number of times he’s whispered how much he’s missed you

How much he wanted you

How much he needed you

Yet here he was

Fingers rubbing into your skin how badly he needed you to be real

The blissful illusion broken by sharp knocking on your front door

Yet Hawks-- or rather Keigo, as he insists-- still smiles

“Hope you’re not too tired, birdie… Your day’s only just begun.”

You don’t know if you should be afraid or not.

-------------------------------------------------

“Shou--!” you’re cut off when he practically scrambles into your bed, lips smothering yours.

“Fuck, I missed you baby.” he growls against your lips, ‘I’m a little pissed the Chick-fil-a wannabe got to you first though.” “You’re still on that, huh.” Hawks muses, lazy grin on his lips when you squeal at the cold air hitting your skin, blanket gracelessly thrown to the side by the half-and-half hero.

“And you made a fuckin’ mess, asshole.” Shouto grumbles when he pulls your hips to the edge of the bed, forcing your legs open. You can feel the way Keigo’s cum drips out of you, making you flush in embarrassment.

“Don’t… don’t stare, dammit.” you cover your face, knowing full well that he would never let you push his head away.

From experience, of course.

“Ruined such a pretty little pussy... “ you hear him mutter before his tongue is licking a wet stripe up the length of your pussy, circling around your clit before sucking it into his mouth. You’re still so sensitive, and you almost howl in sweet agony from the way your clit throbs and stings from the overstimulation.

“Whoops, can’t have you alerting the neighbors now can we?” Keigo says as he sits on the bed next to your head, stuffing his fingers into your mouth.

You can tell he’s only pretending to play it cool, his wings puffing out impressively the longer he watches your face twist and your eyes cross, moaning and humming around his fingers. You feel cold fingers press into you and you gasp, the temperature shock making your clench harder around them. “Oops, sorry. Should have warned you.” Shouto hums, not sounding the least bit sorry. His fingers press and coax the deepest parts of you, massaging your gummy walls. You arch and cry out, thankful that Keigo’s fingers were capable of muffling your noises.

“Geez, you’re wasting all my milk there, kitty cat.” you can hear the shit eating grin on his face, but it’s quick to drop when Shouto’s suddenly licking and sucking, slurping obscenely before pulling away and giving Keigo an unamused ‘meow’.

Keigo doesn’t respond, too shocked for his usual witty comebacks, but that doesn’t deter Shouto from trailing his warmer fingers up your body, pressing over your stomach.

The contrast between his cold fingers prodding around inside you and the warm ones pressing down on your tummy makes you breathless, cumming with a squeaky moan, thighs shaking around Shouto’s head. He chuckles, amused at the way you clench around his fingers, coaxing you through your orgasm until you slack against the bed.

You’re suddenly turned around, head hanging off the edge of the bed, still lying flat on your back.

“Wha…” you slur, attempting to look at Shouto who’s climbing on the bed, pulling your legs over his hips when suddenly Keigo’s standing by your head, leaning down and planting a sweet kiss on your lips.

“Think you can take us both at the same time, hummingbird?” his cock is in his hand, stroking lazily. You swallow, chewing on your lip before nodding slowly.

You weren’t actually sure, but you’d be damned if you didn’t at least try.

“Atta girl…” he praises, stroking your cheek gently before pressing the tip against your lips. You give it a cheeky little kiss to mask your own nerves, tongue poking out to tease him before your mouth drops open into a moan, the feeling of Shouto filling you up immediately distracting you.

“It’s not nice to tease, baby.” he teases you, hips smacking into yours rudely. You choke when Keigo fills your mouth, fighting to relax your throat.

You’re thankful that he’s at least taking some care to help support your head and neck, but your thoughts are quick to drift away as Shouto stuffs and stretches your cunt, nothing but grunts and hums leaving you as Keigo slowly fills your mouth.

“God, what a pretty sight birdie. Your little throat flexing around my cock.” he mutters, hand caressing the front of your throat, squeezing gently. You try to focus on keeping your breathing even, but it’s hard when Shouto continues to insist on fucking you so roughtly.

“Your cute little cunny looks so small, stretched around my fat cock baby.” he groans, only taking a short moment to savor the way his cock looks covered in your juices and some of Keigo’s leftover cum, almost immediately slamming into that spot that has your eyes crossing, stars flashing across your vision.

You lose complete track of time as they take you in every which way until suddenly you’re waking up, clean and tucked into bed. Hawks sits on your left, Shouto to your right. Hands caress your body sweetly, whispered words almost enough to distract you from the aching pain in your body.

“Sorry, sweetheart… we got carried away” Shouto kisses your knuckles gently, eyes gentle compared to the ferocity they had before.

“It’s been so long since we’ve been able to see you, touch you… I thought I was going to go crazy,” Keigo follows up.

You don’t think you could talk even if you tried, so you just squeeze their hands. They squeeze back silently, all three of you basking in each other's presence.

Something tells you that they won’t be going anywhere any time soon.

#crow commissions #Hawks x Reader #shouto x reader #Hawks x Reader x Shouto #BNHA #BNHA Hawks #BNHA Todoroki #Bnha au #bnha ghost au #Ghost Hawks #Ghost Todoroki #Ghost Au #They Become Human Again

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princessmuk · 3 years ago

Text

ALRIGHT LIVEBLOG TIME!!!!!

MAYYYYYYYY

BURIED ALIVE????? We bring back ALL THE TRAUMAS

OMFG HES LITERALLY IN A COFFIN

JEN??????????? IN THE CREDITS??????

Why did Buck’s voice sound like that

Sup Taylor

Okay but where is Eddie

Buck is in serious mode

There’s a rainbow on the screen by Buck lmao

BUCK JUST DIGS WITH HIS HANDS NO MATTER WHAT HUH

Who is this woman. She’s cute but who is she why is she here

LMAO BUCK

Guess I know her name now

Why does Taylor sound so confused????

OH THIS GUY

LMAO I WAS LIKE WHO IS HE

SCHOOL

HARRYYYYY

Waitin for he mamma

Awwwww he has trauma

Yeah so this episode was DEFINITELY meant to be last week lmao

Facts

He needs to go on his journey babes

THE PUDDING

Are we thinking this man is lying??? Who would bury themselves alive

BAKLAVA DJDJJDJSNS

Taylor what are you doing

Did he … kill his wife?????

Taylor just wants to investigate lmao

See this is what I wanted!!!! Taylor being an actual character!!!!!!!

CHIMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM

BUCK IS LIKE 😄

EVA EW

Ghosts… I see it

Damn Chim

Yo I am so glad we got this

Wow okay. YOU DONT NEED TO PUT IT BEHIND YOU TALKING ABOUT IT IS WHAT WE NEED TO DO

MAY IS SPITTING FACTS

Oooo he listening

Eva please leave

At least she’s here to apologize

HENNNNNNNN

Such a great actress

Damn that was unexpected and intense

This episode is NOT what I thought it would be

Sexy times? This song says sexy times

THE FEAR

Yikes

OOOOP

Damnnnnn

“She seemed sincere” you gotta stop Hen

CHINNMMMM SAVING THE DAY

CHIM YOU LEFT YOUR OWN KID

Who the heck is Eli??? I can’t remember this far back guys

Taylor is so into her work I love it

They should really just work together

Lmao Buck

I love seeing side characters shine like this

BUCK SJSJSJJSJ

So did she kill HIM then??

Well clearly the wife went somewhere

Ooooo two conflicting stories

I like the idea that the wife did it but we shall see

Don’t know what commercials are happening for y’all rn but the news in my area is apparently reporting that a pastor had to take down an armed man during a church service???? Sir wtf

Oh shit she’s going to investigate

Awwww Karen :(((((

DAMN

At least Eva can be civil about it

Yknow I feel like in the end neither the husband nor the wife did it

HAHHAHAHA

EDGARRRR

IS THAT THE DAD FROM WIZARDS OF WAVERLY PLACE???????

This is very interesting

He’s like at least in prison he can’t get to me lmao

DHSJSJDJ I MISHEARD THAT COMMERCIAL SO BADLY SNENKDMDJD

Okay why is the music so nice this episode

Who IS this man I can’t REMEMBER

God I missed Chim so much

Oh so she is straight up suicidal

Is it gonna confirm those? Oh yeah I nvm good point he needs to be more put together

IS HE HOME??????

WHERE JS HE GLING

SON YOU ARE TOO YOUNG TO BE ON A BUS ALONE

NOW HES ON THE STREETS

OH MH GOD NO

This song is so intense I love it

The editing is so good holy shit

HARRY?!?!?!?!?!

At least he called his mom thank god

YOU ALWAYS COME FIRST

Romanceeeeeeee

They’re so in loveeeee

THERE BETTER BE SO MANY GIFS OF THIS

Oliver that line was very British

Ohhhh so Buck is worried about HIS gf being in a dangerous situation

Oh shit

That was a quick regression um…

Yessss Harry opening up

Oh my god

Taylor what happened to you

Doctor… murder… W h a t

Hi new baby for Jee-Yun

WHY DID MY TV STOP

Okay he’s hugging his mom

Wait

What happened to Halloween. What happened to ghosts. What happened to the lady with her roommate.

DAVID?????????? GIRL HELP

I am so confused about what episode we just watched lmao. I’m clearly missing something here

#my post #911 fox #911 spoilers #911 season 5

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j0elmill3r · 4 years ago

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In The Flesh

Sebastian Stan x Daughter!Reader

Sebastian Stan Masterlist

Warnings; this is really short omg, fluff, swearing [not quite sure if there is],

word count; 1.2k [yikes what the fuck]

A/N; the anon that requested this enjoys it! And I’m sorry that it’s so short too!

Zoom classes were going to be the death of you. You were outraged at the fact you still had to get up early so you could make yourself look alive for your online class, you weren't physically going anywhere, so why did you need to get up so early? Your dad told you that since it wasn't technically a break, and you still had to get up and do other school work for classes that didn't use Zoom. You told him specifically not to come into your room while you were on the chat because you knew that everyone would freak out that Sebastian Stan was on their screen. Everyone knew, of course, you were the spitting image of your dad, only more feminine, obviously.

"Up and at 'em, Y/N. Your class starts in an hour!" Your personal alarm clock, your dad, said as he walked into your room. You groaned and turned away from him as he opened the blind.

"Dad," You whined. He laughed and sat on the edge of your bed. "It's 8 am, why do I have to get up? Especially if my class isn't for another hour," You complained as you sat up and faced him.

"Because you have to have something to eat, then you need to shower and make yourself look alive, sunshine," He said. "And anyway, I thought you loved getting up early so you could more time with your dear old dad," He said. You scrunched up your face got out of bed.

"Whatever you say," You murmured. You walked down the stairs and into the kitchen, where you grabbed the cereal and the milk. Taking your cereal, you sat at the breakfast bar and tried to fight the sleep taking over you. Sebastian walked down the stairs and sat down across from you.

"So, another 3 am round? I thought you would have learned by now," He said as he took a drink of his coffee that sat on the counter. You gave him the best bitchface you could muster. Sebastian laughed and ruffled your hair. "Y/N, you are adorable when you try to be mad. You make me laugh," He said. You huffed in annoyance as you put your bowl in the sink.

"I'm gonna go get ready since it would apparently be inappropriate to wear my old Captain America hoodie onto a zoom call that most people don't pay attention to," You said. Sebastian laughed and leaned against the kitchen counter.

"Well, I'd hope that you aren't apart of the 'most people' that don't pay attention to the call and you are, this stuff's important, Y/N," He told you. You scoffed.

"Oh yeah, because I'm definitely gonna need to know how to analyze a poem when I'm like 35 and about to buy a house for the first time," You said. Sebastian sighed and shook his head.

"I don't know how many times I'm gonna have to tell you this, it's only because-"

"It's part of your coursework," You cut him off. "I know, you've only been saying since I started High School. I'm gonna go shower now," You walked up the stairs and into the bathroom. After you showered and got ready, you texted your dad to tell him that if he came into your room in the next hour, he would definitely regret it after. Your class had been on for about 45 minutes, and you were counting down the minutes until the class would end, you still had another 15 minutes.

"Y/N, what themes did the movie Trainspotting explore?" Your teacher asked. She had assigned you the movie as part of a movie and book review, but you were still waiting on the book coming in the mail. You watched the movie with your dad on Saturday so you could still remember everything for your class.

"Well, it looked at heroin addiction, obviously. But it looked at crime and death too, and how the characters really never cared for each other, except how Renton cared for Spud," You told the class. Your teacher nodded and wrote something down.

"And how did the character of sick boy take the death of his infant daughter?" She asked you again.

"Well, as Renton put it, he had no way to explain that moment, and that part of him died with the baby, and-" Just as you were about to finish, the door of your room opened and at that moment, all time seemed to stop and you knew you were fucked, your class was as good as finished when your dad walked in. "Oh God," You said quietly. Your dad must have not seen that you were still at your computer, or that all of the Marvel fans and obsessed fangirls were either crying or squealing, you didn't know which category your teacher fell into. Your class was freaking out, Sebastian Stan was there, in the flesh, in their classmates bedroom. And most people in your class had met your dad at Parent’s evenings, but it never stopped them from being any more shocked than they were at that moment that they saw him in your bed room behind you, completely unaware of what he was causing.

"Oh sh-" You turned around in your chair to warn your dad about what you knew he was going to say. "-oot. Sorry, Y/N. I forgot what time it was," He said. You nodded and glared at him, causing him to laugh nervously.

"Hello, Mr. Stan!" Your friend cheered through the camera. Sebastian peered around you and saw your friend, Katy.

"Hello, Katy," He said. "I'll go," You nodded in approval as your dad hurriedly made his way out of your room. As soon as you turned around, your classmates started bombarding you with questions and various other requests. You clicked off of the class and closed the zoom app, that was enough of that for the day. Sighing, you stood up from your desk and walked out of your room and down into the living room. "You're done already?"

"You broke my class, I wasn't sitting through ten minutes of people only liking me because of who you are," You told him.

"I'm sorry," He said. You smiled and nodded.

"I know, but seriously, if you do it again you'll be figuring out Instagram on your own from now on," You threatened him, making him laugh.

"I'll find someone else to help me, Y/N," He told you. You breathed in through your teeth and shrugged your shoulders.

"Not if you can't DM them on Instagram, that'll be it, you'll never be able to speak to another single person again other than me," You said dramatically.

"Are you done or do you have more left in you?" He asked. "Because guessing by the time I heard you turn your TV off this morning, you haven't slept any more than 2 hours sleep," You had to admit, your dad knew you better than you probably knew yourself. You sighed in defeat and sat next to him on the couch.

"Mid-morning nap?" You offered. Sebastian laughed and put his arm around you, pulling you close.

"I'll have to pass, sweetheart, but by all means go ahead. I'll assume the usual role of being your personal pillow," He said. You nodded and hummed in agreement as you closed your eyes.

Permanent Taglist; Open!

@rushmannatalia@ellaorelizabeth@supermoonchildbroski @stat89posts@sadconfusedgirl@mycupoffanfictionreplies@thefaescottage @an-adventureland@rororo06 @xxaamzxx@joycesld@feminist-fan-girl@nixphomaniac @our-whitetulips-us@yungblud01@asonofpeter@coolest-avenger @stat89posts@supernaturallover2002 @jenniferroseee @thecenturyofmusic @roxybefab @justrandom02

#sebastian #Sebastian Stan #dad!Sebastian #sebastian stan fic #sebastian stan fanfic #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan daughter #sebastian stan x daughter!reader #sebastian stan x daughter reader #sebastian stan x daughter #x daughter #x daughter reader #stan #stan!reader #x teen!reader #Teen!Reader

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amazingphanisnotonfire-imagines · 5 years ago

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Cheryl//she means everything to me

Request: Can I request a Cheryl Blossom request where the reader is Archie's twin (a girl) and a super close with her brother and his friends so she doesn't like Cheryl but one day she finds Cheryl crying over Jason and comforts her so Cheryl falls for her and becomes like her best friends has her join the vixens constantly by her side and eventually the reader falls for her and like a super fluffy ending please ps I really love everything you write

hey! i had so much fun writing this, you have no idea! its also super gay!

“Well would you look at that, the sad breakfast club have reunited at lunch.” Cheryl’s cheery voice stops all conversations happening and everyone turns to look at her, her red hair blows softly in slight breeze and her eyes twinkle with whatever chaos she’s going to cause today.

“What do you want Cheryl?” Betty is the first to speak, dropping her fork on her tray as you all wait for her to start her insults.

“Well, cousin, I actually wanted to see how you were. But however, if you’re going to be like that.” She clears her throat before narrowing her eyes. “Betty, your ponytail is wonky and that sweater really washes you out, your hobo of a boyfriend really needs a bath because well, I can smell him from here, or maybe thats just the ridiculously childish hat he refuses to take off. Archie, you’re hair is so ridiculously bright today, its actually blinding me, and it looks like you’ve put enough product in to drown all the little lice that lives in it, Veronica that dress was popular last season, and the shoes a decade ago, and Y/n, I actually didn’t realize you were here. Like I kind of forgot that you existed for a few minutes. What’s it like in your brothers shadow?” She finishes her little speech with a bright smile and the five of you sigh before starting to eat again. You can never read Cheryl, one day she can be sweet and lovely and want to help, the next she’s the worst person you’ll ever meet.

“Probably a lot nicer than being in yours...I can imagine Jason’s shadow is particularly cold.” Veronica retorts and your eyes widen in surprise...that was cold, even for Veronica. Archie smiles proudly at his girlfriend and presses a soft kiss to her head while the rest of the table laugh, including yourself, all 5 of you ignoring Cheryl as she turns on her heel and storms off.

“Lovely talking to you!” Jughead calls after her causing you all to laugh even louder.

“Will she ever stop being a bitch?” You wonder aloud and the laughing pauses, giving everyone a chance to look at each other for a few seconds before you start giggling again.

“I don’t think its possible for Cheryl to be anything other.” Your brother replies through a mouthful of sandwich and you nod in reply.

-----

“Do you wanna ride Y/n?” Archie shouts across the parking lot as he gestures to the truck behind him. Veronica is already in the passenger seat scrolling through her phone and you so desperately want to go with them, even if they’ll do gross things in Archie’s room until your mom gets back from work, but today apparently is not your day,

“If I’m not back when mom gets home tell her that I haven’t been kidnapped or murdered, I’m just going to be late because Cheryl set her Vixens out for revenge and they’ve stolen my bag so I get to play a fun game of hide-and-seek with all my stuff.” You huff, blowing a piece of hair from your face as your shoulder slump in defeat. The fact that you could be spending up to a few hours extra at this stupid school actually hitting you, and Archie gives you a sympathetic look in response to your frown.

“Do you need some help?” He offers but you shake your head. You don’t want to drag him into this, plus you can imagine the Vixens are already planning what they’re going to do to him and the rest of your friends, so you may-as-well give him some peace while he can get it.

“Nah, I’m sure I’ll be fine. I was always the best at finding things when we were younger.” You shrug. “Plus, you don’t want to keep your girlfriend waiting.” You nod towards Veronica who’s hanging her head out the passenger window.

“I suppose not.” He replies, a soft smile playing on his lips as he looks back at his girlfriend and you can’t help but feel a little sad. You’re glad Archie and Veronica have finally worked everything out and are madly in love, but a small part of you feels left behind.

Practically all of your friends are in relationships or are dating, leaving you to be the odd one out at literally any get together. However you have very limited options when it comes to dating, there’s not a lot of queer girls in Riverdale, or even the surrounding towns, at least not a lot of them are out and the ones that are you don’t really like that much. *cough* Cheryl *cough*. And no matter how hard your friends try to set you up with someone, they always seems to pick the worst people. No matter how many times you tell them what your type is.

Three weeks ago Veronica set you up with a girl who came into Pop’s a lot and the only reason she went on a date with you is because she liked Veronica and wanted to know her ‘deal’. Which you can imagine she was very surprised when you told her she was dating your twin brother...yikes.

Maybe you should join a convent. Or get one of those apps that Kevin uses, but only weirdos...and Kevin are on those types of apps. And do they even have them for gay girls.

You ponder your options as you walk behind the bleachers, humming a song you heard in the car this morning as you go. You’re also trying to figure out how to get back at Cheryl and her minions when you hear sniffling coming from a little further ahead of you. Stopping in your tracks you look up and towards the noise to see none other than Cheryl Blossom crying by herself. Thankfully she hasn’t seen you yet and and you quickly look around to see how far your escape is. You're about to turn on your heels when the nice side of you decides to show up, unfortunately.

God, why do I have to have a conscious.

You take a deep breath and send a prayer to literally anybody listening that she doesn’t bite your head off, before you slowly make your way towards the red-head.

“Cheryl?” Your voice shakes with uncertainty and as soon as she hears someone say her name her head lifts up and she’s wiping the tears from her eyes, a look of distain taking over the previous sad expression.

“What do you want Andrews?” She spits and looks you up and down.

You decided to ignore her tone, and try to keep your nice one as you continue your conversation. “Are you okay?”

“Just fine.” She crosses her arms over her chest and her jaw locks as she looks away from you.

“Are you sure?” You ask and sit on the floor a few feet away from her. “Because, you don’t seem it.”

“What’s it to you anyway?” She snaps and you roll your eyes.

“You’re right. It is none of my business.” You sigh and stand up, dusting your jeans off once your stood. “I hope you feel better soon.”

“Y/n?” She calls after you and you huff before turning around. “I’m sorry.” Your eyes widen at the words thats just come of of her mouth and you need to sit down.

“What?!” Your jaw drops and she rolls her eyes at you. “Did you actually just apologize to me?”

“Yes, but I can take it back if you want.” She mutters and you force a smile away as you sit down beside her again, this time a tiny bit closer to her than before but she doesn’t seem to mind, instead your pretty sure she shuffles a little closer to you too.

“Sorry.” You mumble and a small smile appears on her face.

“Did you just apologize?” She mocks and you giggle a little.

“Okay, I deserved that.” You nod. “Do you want to talk about why you’re sat on the floor behind the bleachers after everyone has gone home, crying?”

“Well, when you put it so delicately, sure.” She replies and you send her a look. “I miss Jason.”

“Oh.” You say and look at the your hands. You’re not really sure what to say to that. It’s not like you can bring him back, or even take away her pain. As much as you don’t like her, Cheryl’s been through an awful lot. Far more than anybody else and you can’t help but feel slightly sorry for her.

“Yep.” She take a quick glance at you before deciding to look straight ahead. An idea pops into your head and you sit up a little before looking at her.

“What do you miss about him?”

“What?” She furrows her brows as she looks at you and you take a deep breath before explaining.

“Well, in my experience...it kind of helps to talk about what you miss about them. Because it doesn’t push away the fact that they’re gone, and it also helps me remember the best bits about them. So even though it always stings, overall it makes me feel a little better. If that makes sense?”

“Yeah.” She nods and you can tell she’s thinking about what you’ve just said. “I get that. That was surprisingly insightful for you.”

“Thanks.” You laugh and she giggles a little. “So what do you miss about him?”

“I miss...how he always used to tell me stupid jokes whenever mom or dad had been mean to me or if they’d argued.” She smiles a little at the memory, despite the sad undertones and you can’t help but think how brave Cheryl actually is. “And how when we were younger we used to share a room and he would always tell me bedtime stories. Usually after my mom had come in and told us scary ones. As soon as he’d hear her walk down the stairs he would slip out of his bed and climb into mine and tell me magical stories, usually involving the two of us. We’d be superheroes or we’d live in a caste and we’d be happy.”

“Thats sweet.”

“Yeah. He was. He was just the best. He always looked after me, no matter what. None of his friends were aloud to make fun of me no matter how old we were, and when I didn’t have many friends when I was younger he’d make sure I never felt lonely...he was a good person.”

“He was yeah.” You nod in agreement. “When I was about ten, he was playing football with a bunch of his friends and I was walking past them, trying to get away from them as soon as possible. He ended up throwing the ball and it hit me right in the end making me fall over. And instead of laughing, he ran over to me and he said sorry while helping me up. Then he took me to the nurses office and waited with me until my dad picked me up.” You smile flickers for a moment at the mention of your father and Cheryl seems to pick up on it, placing a gentle hand on your arm making you smile a little. “If that was any other boy, they would have laughed. But no, he helped me and I think that sums up Jason perfectly.”

“Yeah. It really does.” She looks at you properly, for what is probably the first time ever and she feels her breathing quicken. How was she ever mean to you? Your eyes are sparkling in the sunlight as you talk about the very few memories of Jason, and she has to fight the urge to cry. Nobody apart from her brother has ever been this nice to her, and after Jason’s death, nobody really said anything nice about him, they usually just talked about the theories surrounding his murder.

A soft smile dances across your lips, the corners of your lips curled upwards and she feels herself mirroring it. Your hair blows a little in the slight breeze and you tuck the stray bits behind your ear, leaving the rest to fall around your face. She giggles when your nose scrunches up at a particularly gross part of a story involving puke and a swimming pool and she frowns when you stop laughing, due to a sad part in a story that also involves your father. She just wants to wrap her arms around you and forget about the entire world and all of the horrible things in it.

“Did that help?” You ask and she nods, a sweet smile on her lips as she looks at you.

“Yeah...thanks.”

“No problem!” You reply, a bright grin on your face and she feels her heart flutter at the sight. She’s never really seen you smile like this, and even if she has caught a glimpse of it, its never directed at her. She feels like she needs to go back in time and right all of those wrongs because she needs to see you smile like that more often.

“If you don’t mind me asking, why exactly were you skulking around the bleachers in the first place?”

“Oh. I was looking for my bag.”

“How’d you lose a whole bag?” She laughs but when she notices you looking at her, your eyebrows raised, she remembers how you could lose a whole bag. “Oh, yeah. Sorry about that.”

“You can make it up to me by telling me where it is.” You nudge her shoulder and she grimaces.

“Yeahhh. About that. You’re not going to like where they put it.”

“Where did they put it?” You narrow your eyes at her.

“The bin...in the cafeteria.”

“Damn.” You sigh. “Well, I suppose it needed a wash anyway.”

“Sorry.” She sighs, looking at the floor.

“Its fine.” You grab her hand and she looks at you surprised making you pull your hand away (much to her disappointment). “I kind of deserved it. What Veronica said was pretty harsh and I didn’t say anything.”

“No, no. You didn’t say it, you didn’t say anything actually. I was really mean to you and you just took it. I’m so sorry.”

“If it makes you feel any better I did call you a bitch after you left.” You shrug and she looks at your surprised.

“You know.” She stands up and dusts her skirt off, offering you a hand afterwards. “That does kind of make me feel a little better.”

“I’m glad.” You grin and let her pull you up.

“I can help you find your bag and then give you a lift home...thats if you want to.” She trails off at the end, she never feels nervous, but suddenly you’re making her more nervous than she’s ever felt before.

“Sure.” You nod. “You can tell me more stories about Jason if you want.” You ask and its only now that you realize you’re still holding her hand. You mumble a quick sorry and let go before starting to walk away. “You coming?” You look back at her and she swears her heart actually skips a beat as she stares at you, the sun behind you makes you look ethereal, and she’s always believed in angels, but its only now that she’s actually seen one.

“Yeah.” She nods. “Y/n?”

“Yeah?”

“I don’t think anybody could forget that you existed.”

especially not me...not now

-----

“Did you find your bag honey?” Your mom asks as you walk into the kitchen.

“Mom. You’re back early.” You smile awkwardly at her and then to Archie, who’s stood on the other end of the kitchen with a worried expression on his face. It doesn’t take you a minute to figure out Veronica is upstairs and he’s trying to sneak her out.

“Well, yeah.” She nods and takes a sip of coffee. “I was finished my work and I wanted to spend time with my babies.” She pinches your cheek softly making you roll your eyes. Archie is still looking towards the door and you can hear the slight creaks of the floorboards as Veronica tries to sneak down the stairs.

“I-” Archie is about to practically shout over the noise but your mom puts her hand up in the air, effectively stopping him.

“Just tell her to come down. She can stay for dinner if she wants.” She shakes her head and sends you a quick smile making you giggle.

“Right. Yes. Okay.” He nods and quickly makes his way to the stairs. There’s quiet mumbling before Veronica appears by his side in the doorway of the kitchen, both of them with sweet smiles as they look at your mom.

“Hi, Mrs Andrews.” Veronica waves. “Hey Y/n. Did you find your bag?”

“Yeah. It was in a bin.” You shrug and they all look at you.

“Honey, why would someone do that? Do you want me to call the school?”

“Its fine mom.” You shake your head. “Its just Cheryl and her friends.”

“Well we should talk to someone. They can’t go around putting people’s belongings in the bin. The law clearly state-”

“Mom.” You interrupt her as you sit at the table. “Its fine. She was actually very sorry about it.”

“What!?!” Both Veronica and Archie’s jaws drop while they look at you wide-eyed.

“Cheryl was sorry?” Veronica asks in disbelief.

“Yeah.” You shrug. “She helped me look for it.”

“Yeah. I don’t believe that in the slightest.” She replies.

“Definitely. She’s got something planned. And its big.” Archie agrees.

“Or she could just be being nice. That does actually happen you know.” You reply and he laughs sarcastically.

“Yeah, I don’t think she knows how to be nice. Why are you even defending her? Earlier today you asked if she would ever stop being a bitch.”

“Archie! Language!” Your mom scolds and the two of your roll your eyes.

“That was before I had an actual conversation with her instead of insulting her. Which is what you do.”

“I don’t insult her, Veronica insults her.” He replies.

“Archie!” Veronica slaps him arm lightly and he mumbles a quick apology.

“Yeah, but you don’t do anything to stop the insults.”

“Neither do you.” He retorts and you cross your arms.

“Well, I’m doing it right now s-”

“Okay!” Your mom shouts instantly shutting everyone up. “Thats enough. We’re going to have a nice family dinner and we’re going to enjoy each others company. Now stop shouting at each other. And say sorry.”

It takes a few seconds and a lot of glares and huffs but eventually you say sorry to each other and Archie sits on the opposite side of the table of you, followed quickly by Veronica.

“Do you like Cheryl?” He mouths while your mom is plating up the food and when she isn’t looking you make sure to kick him under the table, earning a death glare from him.

“God no.” You huff, scrunching your face up which makes him laugh.

maybe a little

-----

“Here comes the she-devil.” Jughead mumbles quietly and you all look in the direction that he was nodding to. Cheryl is walking towards your table, with a look you’ve never really seen before. Not one thats directed at your friends anyway. She looks happy. A lot different to how you found her yesterday and you’re glad she’s not as sad, a smile really suits her.

“Oh god.” Veronica mumbles as she takes a sip from her drink. “Hey, did we tell you where she hid Y/n’s bag yesterday?” She asks, lowering her voice as Cheryl gets closer and Betty and Jughead shake their heads, leaning further towards her. “In the cafeteria bin.”

“Gross.” Betty scrunches her face up.

“Thats just unhygienic.” Jughead adds.

“You’re telling me.” Veronica replies. “Mrs Andrews had to wash it three times to get the smell of the soup out.”

“Ewww.” They laugh and you send them a quick glare before looking at Cheryl.

“Greetings fellow students.” Cheryl stops in front or your table and the laughter stops. You swear you can see a flicker of sadness flash through her eyes and you decide to quickly change the subject.

“Cheryl!” You smile brightly at her and the sadness you thought you saw disappears completely. Its not everyday that somebody has been this happy to see her and she decides to grab it with both hands.

All night she was up thinking about you, thinking about how she could have gone so long not noticing you, and how she needs to make sure everybody notices you. Everyone needs to know about you. Y/n Andrews, the girl who could take some of Cheryl Blossom’s sadness away, something that has never been done before.

“Hi Cheryl.” Betty greets her and she forces a polite smile to look at your friends, making it a little bigger as she looks at your brother.

“Hi.” She replies. “Can I sit?” She’s now looking back at you, pointing to the seat beside you and you nod, quickly moving down so she can sit beside you. Archie huffs as he’s pushed off the end of the table and he quickly grabs a seat so he can sit back down.

“Are you feeling any better today?” You voice is quiet, barely above a whisper as you ask her a question and she can’t help but fall a little more for you, because you didn’t shout her business, not like everybody else does. You made sure only she could hear you.

“Yeah.” She nods. “Much better. I still miss him, but it doesn’t hurt as much.”

“I’m glad.” You smile. “Anyway.” Your voice is louder and the quiet mumbles from your friends have stopped. “Can we help you with anything?”

“Yes actually! Y/n, how would you feel about joining the Vixens?” Her smile is warm and kind but the words that have just come from her lips make your bold run cold. Your friends look at each other before looking back at you and you can feel yourself getting hotter and hotter.

“I don’t know Cheryl.” You start, your voice nervous as you try and find the best way to let her down gently. She’s only started being nice to you but you’d rather stick forks in your eyes than be a cheerleader, not with them anyway. They’re mean and rude and they think they’re better than everyone...but you’re not going to say that to Cheryl, so instead you decide on something a little nicer. “It’s just not really my type of thing. Plus, I don’t think they really like me.”

“Can you imagine, Y/n as a cheerleader.” Archie chuckles making you and Cheryl roll your eyes.

“Whats wrong with being a cheerleader?” Cheryl asks and crosses her arms.

“Yeah, Archie. Or are you forgetting that your girlfriend is a Vixen?” You add and Cheryl sends you a small smile which makes your head feel a little fuzzy.

“There’s nothing wrong with being a Vixen. But Y/n being a Vixen is just funny.”

“And why is that dear brother?” You raise an eyebrow and he gulps. He mumbles a quick ‘nothing’, before going back to eating.

“I really do think you should at least try-out. I think you’ll be great. Plus, if any of the girls say anything, which they won’t, they’ll have me to answer to.” She explains and you think about it for a minute. Would it be really bad to be part of the school’s cheerleading squad. The reasonable part of your brain is saying, more like screaming, yes its the worst idea in the world. But the slightly less reasonable and the slightly more gay part is screaming hell yeah. Surrounded by wonderful, smart if not slightly intimidating girls...plus, Cheryl!

“Fine.” You give in. “I’ll try out.”

“Yay!” She claps her hands excitedly before standing up and brushing her hair over her shoulder. The small gesture has you mesmerized and you have to force yourself to remember where you are in order to regain all your thoughts, the number one being, ‘what the hell was that about?’ “I’ll see you after school! Goodbye Y/n.” She waves at you before starting to walk away and its only when Betty clears her throat that she turns around again to wave everybody else off.

Your brother decides to wait until she’s out of earshot until he starts talking again, and the first thing he says is something that doesn’t really surprise you.

“Y/n and Cheryl, kissing in a tree.” He teases, making a kissy face and you throw a handful of food at him. The rest of your friends let out the laughter they’ve been holding in and you roll your eyes so hard you swear they’re going to fall out.

“How old are you?” You huff.

“Old enough to see that Cheryl fancies you.”

“Shut up!”

-----

Cheryl didn’t just fancy you.

She liked you.

Actually she was head over heels, doodling your initials in a heart, mind goes fuzzy anytime she sees you, in love with you.

And you? Well, you were none the wiser.

You just thought she was being friendly. Maybe more than the average person but Cheryl hasn’t had many close friends so maybe this is the only way she knows how to keep them.

She’s holding your hand? She just wants to make sure you know you’re not alone. Her hugs are a bit longer than normal? Come on, the girl deserves a long hug. She always finds a way to include you in conversation? She’s just being sweet.

Yes, Cheryl Blossom was becoming a slightly more bearable person, and it only seemed to happen when you were around. Leaving everyone to have their own conspiracies.

Archie’s was of course that she was in love with you. “Yeah right. Like that would happen Archie.”

Veronica’s was that it was one long prank to get back at everyone who’d hurt her. “Veronica, thats just sociopathic.”

Betty’s was slightly less weird, that she probably just wants to make a friend and so she’s being overly nice to fool people into thinking she hasn’t got a heart made of ice. “Thats just mean.”

And Jughead’s was that she’d either been possessed by a poltergeist. “Aren’t they supposed to be mean?” Or, that she’d been taken over by aliens. “I think they’d have better things to do than make Cheryl nice.”

Plus there was all of the other ridiculous rumors flying around school, but she either seemed to not hear or just ignore them.

“Y/n. Are you even listening to me?” You’re pulled back down to earth by Cheryl waving her hands in front of your face.

“What? Yeah. Huh?” You ask and she huffs, crossing her arms over her chest.

“I was talking you through the routine for Friday. You know the whole reason why we’re in the gym after school.”

“Yes. Yes. I remember.” You stand and she shakes her head, despite the smile thats threatening to ruin her facade.

“Okay.” She stands beside you. “Are you watching?” She asks and glances at you, a smile making its way onto her face as she watches you go over the steps in your head. Your frowning slightly at you try to remember the steps and she can’t help but giggle a little as your arms start to move to.

“What?” You ask.

“Nothing.” She shakes her head. “Ready?”

“Ye-”

“Good.” She nods. The music starts and she begins to go through the steps, you following a step behind her. However half way through you get distracted by the way she’s moving and then it hits you.

I’m in love with with Cheryl Blossom.

“Shit.” You mumble and she turns around quickly.

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah, I erm. I just got a bit distracted. Sorry.”

“Its fine.” She smiles brightly. “Lets go again, I’ll help you this time.”

“You’re already helping me.” You reply and she rolls her eyes.

“I’ll help you even more.” She hits your arm lightly and your heart goes hay-wire at the small interaction. “Stand there.” You do as she says and the next thing you know she’s stood behind you were her hands on your hips.

“Wha-at, are you doing?” You stutter, your breathing getting quicker with each second. Her perfume is suffocating you, but in the best way and her breath is hot on your neck as she leans over you a little.

“He-helping.” She replies, also stuttering a bit and your swear you hear her breath hitch when you move your head to look at her. Your lips are millimeters away from hers, and if you leaned in just a little more you’d be kissing her, something you really want to do right now. You wonder what her lips would feel like against yours, how soft they’d be and if her lipstick would stain you, forever leaving a mark on you. “Y/n?”

“Yeah?” Your eyes flicker up to meet hers and it feels like she’s staring directly into your soul.

“Can I kiss you?”

“Absolutely.” You reply and within seconds her lips are on yours, her hands gripping your waist tightly to turn you around. What you thought kissing Cheryl would be like, and actually kissing Cheryl, are completely different. Her lips are softer than you could ever imagine. Her lipstick tastes like cherries with a hint of maple syrup and you don’t think pancakes are ever going to taste the same again.

You both pull away, a bright blush on both of your faces and she giggles a little as she wipes the lipstick from the side of your face. But it doesn’t matter, she left a mark on you that day behind the bleachers, and you don’t think you’re ever going to be the same again...not that you’d really want to be.

#cheryl blossom #cheryl blossom x reader #cheryl blossom imagine #cheryl blossom x you #cheryl blossom x y/n #riverdale #riverdale imagine

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p-artsypants · 4 years ago

Text

Longest Night (42) Speaking

Ao3 | FF.net

“So, it’s been two weeks since Dr. Boucher removed your vocal nodules. Have you spoken to anyone yet?”

Adrien shook his head.

This was his first therapy session. Dr. Robin Zollar, a woman that exuded warmth and kindness. Her voice was sweet and a little silly, and she reminded him of the fairy godmother from Cinderella. That may have been why he was responding to her so well.

Besides speaking, of course.

“Does your throat still hurt?”

Shake.

“Have you actually tried speaking?”

Shake.

“And I’m guessing you really have no desire to either, right?”

Nod.

“Okay. Talking with Marinette, it seems like she’s been speaking a lot on your behalf. That’s fine and all, but you will need to develop a voice of your own. Do you feel like you have no need to speak?”

Nod.

“Because Marinette speaks for you?”

Shake.

“No? Well, that is a lot different than I expected. I would like to know a little bit more about that. Would you be willing to write down what it is that you’re feeling, if you won’t say it out loud?” She pushed a pen and pad of paper towards him.

He stared at it for a long while.

—

“You’re serious?” Marinette crossed her arms and frowned at him.

Gabriel held a tennis ball in his hand. “I mean, it wasn’t my idea. But my therapist said it might be a good way to connect with Adrien.”

“Catch. With his arm in a sling.”

“That’s why it’s a tennis ball.”

Marinette sighed and looked at Adrien. “What do you think, kitty?”

He sat at the end of his bed and shrugged.

“A little physical activity isn’t going to kill you.” Gabriel admonished.

“Yeah, but it could pull his stitches if he’s not careful.”

“Do I look stupid, Marinette? It’s not even catch, we’re just tossing it back and forth.”

Marinette frowned at the man, while Adrien gave a weak grunt.

Gabriel tossed him the ball, and Adrien caught it, throwing it back.

“Sleep alright last night?”

“The usual,” Said Marinette, on her phone while she sat on the couch.

“I was talking to Adrien.”

“Right.”

Marinette listened as the ball was tossed back and forth a few times. Before Gabriel repeated again, “Did you sleep alright last night?”

Adrien didn’t respond.

“I said, did you sleep well?”

There was a grunt.

“Shrugging and grunting mean nothing to me. The doctor gave the okay, you can use your voice now.”

“He doesn’t want to talk,” Marinette pressed. “Don’t force him.”

“Marinette, again, I’m talking to Adrien.”

She chuckled darkly, knowing his efforts were fruitless.

“I have someone who’s coming to visit soon. And your Aunt Amilie and Felix want to come and visit too. That will be fun, won’t it?”

Marinette closed her phone and sat up, looking over the back of the couch to watch this awkward one sided conversation.

“Felix himself emailed me and asked me about you. He wanted continual updates, since they didn’t get the same news broadcast over in London. He really cares about you.”

Adrien just pitifully watched the ball, but did little else. It was obvious Gabriel was not happy with his body language, so he steeled himself into a neutral, professional posture.

Marinette hated it.

“Nathalie was helping with the company while I was busy with the investigation with you. Now that you’re safe, she’ll be taking a little vacation. But she assures me that she’ll be back soon, and that she can’t wait to see you.”

The ball was tossed, caught, tossed.

“Isn’t that nice? Nathalie missed you.”

Toss. Catch. Toss.

“I said, isn’t that nice?”

“He’s mute, not deaf.” Marinette drawled.

Gabriel turned and looked at her. “Look, if you keep talking for him, and encouraging this behavior, he’s never going to speak. It’s learned helplessness at this point, and someone has to train it out of him. So shut up.”

The tennis ball hit Gabriel in the head.

“Excuse me!?” Gabriel whirled at his son.

Adrien hissed at him, like a feral cat.

Gabriel scoffed in disgust. “You’re not an animal! If you are angry with me, I expect you to use your words in a level tone.”

“We were treated like animals for weeks.” Marinette bit. “Sorry, it’s hard to think otherwise.”

“Out,” Gabriel nearly shouted at her. “You’re not helping. Go bother your parents for a while.”

With tears in her eyes, Marinette stood and started from the room.

Adrien whined and tried to follow.

“No!” Gabriel ordered. “You stay here! We’re playing catch!”

Outside the room, Marinette started down the stairs, but got weak and had to sit.

“Yikes, cringe.” Said Plagg, coming up to her side.

“You saw that huh?”

“I’ve been trying to give you both space and privacy, but that doesn’t stop me from wanting to watch over Adrien like the little fairy godfather I am.”

“Was Gabriel right? Am I talking for Adrien too much?”

“Ehhhh, I tend to believe that that man is never right. Even when he’s right he’s wrong. But in this case, he’s wrong wrong. You guys are only two weeks out of the hospital. A month out of torture. I’m still trying to catch up with all the footage, and he’s trying to rush the recovery process. But when you do that, it makes everything worse.”

Marinette exhaled, feeling at least vindicated.

“Marinette, even if you do something ‘wrong’ right now, no one should blame you for it. Sure, we’ll reprimand you, but you’re dealing with a lot of shit, and your mind isn’t totally clear. Don’t feel guilty for trying to protect Adrien.”

“Thanks Plagg. That helps.” She glanced up at Adrien’s bedroom door. “I better get back in there.”

Marinette climbed the stairs again, coming up to the door.

As she opened it, she stared in horror as Gabriel stood over Adrien, a finger in his face, nearly spitting in anger.

Adrien’s expression was completely zoned out. A defense mechanism that he had adopted in their hellhole.

He was gone. And would probably continue to be so for a few hours. Did his mind go blank? Or did he retreat into a daydream? There was no way of knowing.

She shouldn’t have left the room.

“…not only is it disrespectful, it’s counterproductive. How are we supposed to help you if you won’t talk to us? You never had a problem speaking your mind before!”

Marinette slid onto the bed next to Adrien, grabbing him around the waist and pulling his head to her shoulder. “It’s okay. I’m here. I’m here.”

Adrien didn’t respond.

Plagg got between them and Gabriel. “You’re done.”

“I’m only trying to help.”

“You put him into shock. How does that help him? You’ve removed him from this plain of reality. Great job. Dad of the year.”

“Look, I just wanted to—“

“Are you still here?” Marinette snapped. “Get out. Now!”

“I’m not going anywhere! This is my house, and Adrien is my son!”

“He’s my husband!”

Gabriel clenched his fist. “That wedding was a sham. You’re as much of his wife as you are a ball and chain around his ankle. He’ll never get better with you dragging him back!”

The door swung open, banging against the wall. Marinette jumped at the noise and held onto Adrien.

Tom and Sabine entered, having been sent for by Tikki.

“Can you give us a moment?” Gabriel asked like he hadn’t just verbally punched Marinette in the gut. “We were having a discussion.”

Sabine said nothing, but slapped Gabriel across his face. “Be glad it was only a slap.” She bit.

“That’s assault!”

“And I bet the judge will be real sympathetic to you after what you said to our daughter and son-in-law.”

Gabriel just scowled at them. “I feel like we’ve had this discussion before.”

“We did, and last time, Adrien started crying. We can continue this discussion out in the lobby.”

“I’m not done talking to Adrien!”

Tom cracked his knuckles. “Oh, yes you are.” With one swift scoop, Tom had Gabriel draped over his shoulder like a sack of flour.

“Put me down! I can walk!”

“This is what I used to do with Marinette when she was a child and threw tantrums in a store. You’re going to act like a child, we’re going to treat you like a child.”

“I’m not a child!” Was the last thing Marinette heard before Sabine shut the door.

“Are you alright honey?” Sabine asked, sitting beside Adrien.

Marinette swallowed back tears. “I knew it…I want to help Adrien…but I’m making everything worse…”

Sabine looked to heaven. “Lord, I’m going to kick that man’s ass.” She shook her head. “No, no Marinette, Adrien needs you right now.” She delicately pet Adrien’s hair. “He feels safe around you, and you understand him the best. Gabriel is lost and frustrated right now. He has no idea how to act. And believe me, it’s hard for us too. I worry every day about what the right thing to do is.”

“But you don’t…you don’t yell at me.”

“Because yelling at you never helped in the past. We’ve talked sternly to you when you were in trouble, and we did groundings, and the occasional spanking when you were very very bad. But yelling only made you afraid and distrusting. I suspect that’s the attitude from Adrien he’s used to.”

Adrien didn’t respond in any way, just continued to bore a hole in the floor with his dull gaze.

“The doctor said that you being together was good. And what does Gabriel know about this kind of stuff? He designs clothes.”

Marinette cracked a smile.

“Your father and I will sit him down and have a good stern talking to him. He’s the one making things worse.”

Marinette breathed a calming breath. “Okay.” She let go of Adrien, only to take hold of his face and guide him to look at her. “Kitty?”

He blinked owlishly at her.

“You with me?”

Another slow blink.

“Is he alright?” Sabine asked.

“No, he’s—“ Marinette clenched her eyes shut. “He was like this back in…”

“That place.”

“Yeah, he…when things would get bad, he sort of…shut down. Salo said it was a sign of death. I think he’s trying to protect himself.” She pet his hair, and kissed his cheeks.

“What can I do to help?”

“Can we move him to the couch?”

Sabine nodded and stood, wrapping an arm around his waist.

Despite being mentally checked out, he was still respondent to movement. As they pulled him to his feet, he stood on his own, though still weakly. They guided him slowly over to the couch and had him sit down.

“Here’s a nice warm blanket. Do you want some tea?”

“Yes please, maman.”

Plagg spoke up from where he was silently watching. “I think Adrien would really enjoy a coke.”

“Are you sure?”

“He might only have a few sips, but it’s his favorite drink.” Then he whispered conspiratorially, “but his dad never lets him have it.”

“Okay, I think I’m following.”

“Marinette, you play video games, right?” Plagg asked.

“Uh, yeah?”

“Good. I’ll put in his favorite game, and you play it, and see if that rouses him.”

“Good thinking!”

Plagg floated over to the TV, and turned on the console while Sabine left to get them snacks.

Marinette leaned over and placed another kiss on his cheek.

The drum beats started up as the main menu came up.

Marinette groaned. “Skyrim...”

“What? Don’t like it?”

“I’ve never played it!”

“You’ve never played Skyrim?!” Plagg nearly shouted in mock offense. He didn’t actually care, but old Adrien would have.

“I know the memes, Sneak 100, ‘I took an arrow to the knee’ but I never actually sat down and played it. It’s so long!”

“Well, you got a lot of time on your hands now. Might as well start!”

“Yeah, might as well...”

She modeled her character to look like Ladybug, with red paint over the eyes to replicate a mask.

As she started playing, Sabine came back and left the snacks.

Marinette paused the game to help Adrien take a few sips of his drink. She placed the can in his good hand and brought it to his lips. Then she tilted the can slightly, watching as he drank on his own.

It didn’t rouse a response.

“If this goes on much longer, I’m going to call the doctor.” Said Sabine. “I’m worried.”

“Me too.” Said Marinette, sweeping the bangs from his forehead.

Sabine stayed and watched the game, wincing when Marinette sliced someone’s head off with a sword.

“This is pretty gory, are you doing okay?”

“Yeah, it’s almost cartoonish. I...I did much worse.”

Marinette continued to sneak glances at Adrien. He seemed to be watching the screen now, instead of looking through it. His eyes followed her character, and Sabine took it as a sign that he had mostly come back around.

“Feeling a little better, Adrien?” She asked.

He hummed.

So she left them alone.

Tikki sat on Marinette’s lap, while Plagg nuzzled into Adrien’s hair. The room was quiet, the volume on the game turned down, and only soft ambient music was heard.

“I love you.”

Marinette blinked. The voice was so soft, so rough, and wavering, she didn’t think she heard it at first. But she turned to look at Adrien, seeing that he was looking at her. Her breathing picked up, as she waited, begging him to speak again. She bit her lip to keep her from speaking and interrupting if he did say something.

“I didn’t know what else to say.”

She shook her head at him, and turned her body to face him. “Say whatever you want. You know I won’t judge.” She leaned in, staring deep into his eyes to prove he had her full attention.

Adrien rested a hand on hers, squeezing slightly. He met her gaze, holding it with his breath.

“You…” He began, only to pause.

“Yes?” She urged.

“You…are really bad at this game.”

Marinette nearly collapsed on him, she was laughing so hard.

—

Adrien recalled this very special moment with his lady after the therapist handed the notepad. So he had lied. He had spoken to someone. His other half, his partner, his soulmate. But it felt a lot less like ‘finally speaking’ then it did sharing a secret. He had confided as much in her then. He still didn’t want to talk, but with her it was different.

With her, he felt safe, free, and wanted. He could talk for hours, or say nothing. Either way, he was comfortable.

“Adrien?” The therapist asked delicately, as he hadn’t written anything. “If you prefer not to answer, that’s fine too. We have a half an hour left in this session.”

He was inclined to write out his feelings just as much as he was to speak. It was hard to find the words. Much less ones that were worthy of being spoken.

Finally, he admitted what he didn’t want to.

Why bother speaking if no one will listen?

—

It was evening when she arrived. The sun was just about to set, sending La Grande Paris into glittering gold and orange light.

Though it felt weird to be staying in a hotel when her home was just a block away.

Disguised with sunglasses and a handkerchief, Emilie was escorted upstairs to the nicest suite available.

And inside awaited her dearly beloved husband.

“Gabriel?” She asked softly.

She heard his breath caught in his throat. “Emilie…” In a few quick strides, he was on her, embracing her, kissing her, weeping on her. “I’ve missed you so much…”

“I’m here darling, I’m here…” She whispered, shedding tears of her own.

They stayed that way a long while, just in each other’s arms. Occasionally sharing kisses and words of love.

Finally, Gabriel pulled away to look her up and down. “You must be exhausted.”

“I’m actually not. I slept on the plane, and then I’ve been nervous ever since landing.”

“Nervous? About what?”

“About being gone, seeing you again, what I’m going to see…”

“Oh.” He huffed. “Well, did you want to shower? Are you hungry?”

“Yes to both.”

“I’ve packed some clothes for you. Why don’t we get you all settled in, and then I’ll tell you the whole sad story.”

“And Adrien?”

“He’s home.”

“When will I get to see him?”

Gabriel gnawed on his bottom lip. “Well…soon, I hope. But, he’s changed a lot.”

“So have you.” Emilie pet his hair. “You’ve gone gray.”

“I think I look distinguished.”

“You look old.”

“You haven’t aged a day, my love.”

Emilie smiled softly, leaning in to give him a small kiss. “Flatterer.”

“But about Adrien…you see, he’s not speaking to anyone. I’m hoping that seeing you again will give him that spark.”

“Does he know what happened?”

“…not quite.”

“What does he think happened to me? Does he think I’m dead? Would seeing me shock him?”

“I think it might be a little shocking, but he just thinks you disappeared. Makes things a little easier to explain.”

“Speaking of explaining…”

“Shower, dinner, then I’ll get to it.”

At 3 AM, Gabriel hustled out of La Grande Paris, having done far too much damage. Good thing it was dark, or half of Paris would have questioned why the Gabriel Agreste was leaving a hotel late at night while a mysterious woman screamed obscenities at him from a balcony.

#miraculous ladybug #longest night #ml #ladybug #chat noir #gabriel agreste #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #adrienette

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jq37 · 5 years ago

Text

The Report Card – Fantasy High Sophomore Year Ep 15

Love Wins!

Welcome to an insanely chaotic episode of Fantasy High--even by the very high standards of this show. How chaotic you may ask? Well, the first thing that happens is that Bill Seacaster point blank shoots Gilear to death for being in a relationship with Hilariel. Full dead. He is full dead. Strangely, his plan to bring him back as a janky devil does not do much to comfort Fig. Imagine that.

Bill’s pirates are looting the Bottomless Pit (Gorthalax’s domain in Hell) and Vraz orders Fig to make them stop. When she instead orders Vraz to eat her ass, Vraz nullifies all warlock deals Gorthalax made and brings none other than Johnny Spells (and his greaser pals) to join the fight!

Really, this fight is insane and it’s better served by a highlight real than a play by play so I’m just gonna give you some bullets:

All the PCs rolled super low initiative this fight which really kinda screwed them. Like Fabian was down to 16 HP one point and it was like, “Lol, this is the end of round 1.” YIKES.

A big part of this fight was just surviving long enough to get to the second level of hell and rescue Riz’s dad which I think was probably good for morale because the thought of this fight dragging on for more than a couple of rounds exhausts me.

Fabian rolls off against Johnny right off the bat for the Hangman’s loyalty and Fabian wins with a 25 (and by coming out the gate with the word ENSLAVED which isn’t the word *I* would have used but a 25 is a 25 I guess).

He also has to contend with fighting Allistair who has a massive hole in his head filled with fire from Wicklaw eating his brain. It seems like Chungledown Bim is in hell too based on how Allistair keeps saying he’s gonna get him so he can shit in Fabian’s mouth. Of course, Fabian gets the better of him, but not before he deals out a fair bit of damage.

Adaine uses an Arcane Hand plus her portent roll to just whole-ass throw Johnny off the ship. Like, he gets back up but it’s so funny to instead of fighting an enemy to just throw him off a set piece (see eg: Bloodkeep ep2).

Kristen Revivifies Gilear and Bill, the mercurial sunuvabitch is like, “We love the same woman! I just want her happy!” and gives him a gun. Kristen immediately is like, “Bro, you need to hide,” and Gorgug protects him while he does so (in a sarcophagus that has a 50/50 shot of being launched as ammo).

Penelope shows up to the fight, eyes all black, wearing a shredded prom dress, and with shards of silver embedded in her forehead like a crown. Dayne and Daybreak also join the fight as messed up Harvestmen! It’s a veritable Smash Bros lineup of people the Bad Kids have killed!

Adaine and Fabian are christened the “Posh Squad” which is important to me, not to the fight.

Adaine gets to counterspell a counterspell from Penelope, one of the sexiest things you can do in D&D.

Fabian declares toxic masculinity dead. Shortly afterward, he makes Brennan eat a die when Daybreak tries to Frighten Fabian, a condition he is immune to due to his eyepatch I gather based on the table reaction.

Daybreak’s punishment in hell is a complete lack of self-awareness of why he’s there. He still thinks he should be sipping Mai-Tai’s in corn heaven with Helio while Kristen and Ragh are attacking him with gay spit (their words, not mine). Gay spit and, also, a ton of radiant and thunder damage.

Ragh gets some emotional catharsis by getting to body Dayne before Gorgug decapitates him. Very important step in the stages of grief. Decapitating the source of said grief.

Penelope gets Sparta-kicked off the edge of the boat by Fabian after Ayda dispels her protective globe and Riz shoots Daybreak again for old times sake. Unfortunately, Penelope Misty Steps back up and Daybreak is hurt but not killed. Ayda does a cool Dr. Strange teleportation thing and does a bunch of damage to both of them. Fabian finishes off Penelope with a sheet/sword combo and between Booming Blade and a Psionic Blast (does she have this ability as a Bard or as a Warlock? Relatedly, when she felt something leave her was that her Warlock deal being nullified or was she feeling the deals leave her since she is sort of the temporary Gorthalax?) Fig destroys Daybreak. Johnny just falls off the ship with no PC intervention because he sucks.

Bill also falls off the ship but Fig (with an assist from Gorgug) saves him and steals a scroll from Vraz on the way back up. By the by, earlier in the fight, she also had Baby Invisbly steal a random item from her.

Anyway, as they reach the end of the end of the fight, Bill loads Riz into a canon (!) and shoots him into the city, hopefully towards his dad (to the distress of his party). He crashes through the window in a familiar looking building and, when he finds a hallway that he’s pretty sure leads to his dad, he goes towards it.

He sees a familiar light coming out of a doorway (the interrogation room light) and a doorway next to it that is slightly open with steel thrones in it. There’s a two-way mirror between the two rooms and if he goes into the open one, he can see who is in with his dad. After checking for illusions and finding none, he stealthily walks in and sees, in the other room, his dad with a hulking pit fiend (30 ft tall, winged, almost dragon-y devil).

The pit fiend is questioning Pok about any regrets he had in life and Pok answers very uncharacteristically from the man we saw in the video saying he had nothing but high hopes for baby Riz. He says he had no regrets, his job was just a job, and that he only had a kid because Sklonda wanted one before going into a snarling goblin rage. The pit fiend smiles at that and says that Pok has promise so they won’t create a lemure out of him (a lemure is a weak, blobby devil). Two devils in the room with them whip him unconscious and then leave the room to go send more people to deal with Bill.

Riz Misty Steps into the room and does a self-imposed Wisdom check to steady himself after what he just heard--Nat 20 baby. Then, he opens his Briefcase of Holding, ready to scoop his dad into it when, the two lesser devils open the door and catch him in the act. But Riz persists in the scooping. They try to grapple him and he rolls a Nat 1 to avoid it. He *still* tries to get him dad. But then he notices, his gun is missing.

BLAM. The devils heads are blown clean off. He turns and he sees his dad has taken the gun--his gun originally--and shot the devils. Pok, who is amazed that Riz is there and no longer feigning apathy for the situation asks for an extraction into an earpiece, causing a halo to appear over his head and a beam of holy light to come down like a tractor beam.

“Wait,” says Riz. “You’re an undercover angel?”

“You got it, kid.”

Murph goes feral. The table goes feral. I go feral. What a way to end an episode!

And now for an all-Dad round of superlatives:

Detention

Bill Seacaster for KILLING GILEAR

I feel like I shouldn’t have to explain myself here.

Honor Roll

Pok Gukgak for Officially Joining the Fantasy Fathers of the Year Club

Here either.

I will, however, add a Hell Yeah!

Random Thoughts

If you haven’t seen it yet, the trailer for S5 of Dimension 20 just dropped and I won’t spoil it but, from the looks of it, it is gonna be a doozy.

“Do not metagame with my freaking Dad!” Oh to have the support of an NPC Emily Axford has decided to imprint upon.

Gorgug: It’s been one year. We’re sophomores.

“We support you as a DM and as your friend but also you’re our enemy.”

I think it’s very interesting that with just a little space and time from his dad, Fabian is finally having the proper reactions to his dad doing what I will charitably call shenanigans.

The level of distress and outrage from Emily when Gilear got shot was just *chef’s kiss*. I aspire to create an NPC that provokes that level of reaction from one of my players. Similar energy in a different direction from Ally when Daybreak attacked Tracker.

“Adaine, the jocks are being feisty! Get out of there!”

Vraz calls Fig “the Faithless” as her devil title and she insists on instead being called, “the InFaethable”. I wanna know how long Emily’s been sitting on that one or whether she came up with it on the spot.

Fabian upon seeing Johnny: Fuck off dude. I have too much going on right now.

Brennan being the eternal DM mood: How do I get out of this?

Very wild how little time has passed since Leviathan. Like, Fabian’s had this whole arc and grown so much but, like, OF COURSE Allistair still wants to murder him! It’s been like two days.

“I want to crumple up Gilear like a wrapper.”

A seven is a Murph 10.

The very specific way Brennan does foley for sword fighting (“Clang! Cling! Clang!”) is so funny to me.

Cannot overstate how much of a power move it was for Kristen to go, “I’ve been PRAYING FOR YOU,” at Daybreak and knock him on his ass.

I feel like I bring this up all the time but I love when Brennan is counting dice for a ton of damage and all the PCs are BSing reasons that it’s not a big deal like, “He’s just getting D4s,” or “Well I should get advantage for the reason just made up,” with everyone else fully playing along. ”

Allistair Ash, man. He is fascinating to me. I am so curious about what Brennan had planned for him originally because I feel like we barely scratched the surface before things took a TURN. He had two little moments in this ep that made my heart break for him a little: (1) When he says to Fabian, “If I die, I just come back a little bit worse but, if you die, you’re stuck down here with me.” and (2) when Fabian kills him and Bill grabs his soul and is like, “You know it’s gonna cost you X gold to revive you,” and he sighs and says, “Put it on my tab I suppose.” Like, I know he spent all ep trying to kill Fabian but I can’t help but be like, poor guy. He just has this pathos in his haplessness. I’m surprised Fabian didn’t make more of an effort to connect with him instead of being like, kind of like, “I will throw hands if I must.” Talking is a free action my dude. Anyway, I would love to see Brennan’s DM notes for this guy.

Lou was really doing some expert D&D with all the second winding and bonus actioning and burning spell slots for extra damage he was doing. He was like, “My initiative is trash so I have to do approximately a million damage per turn.”

Lol at Ayda asking if it’s weird to talk about sex stuff in front of friends in a group that involves both Kristen and Adaine.

Fig wishing she could do something cool in front of Ayda as if Ayda didn’t try to flood Hell on her behalf last week. My girl. You’ve already locked that down.

Not really an issue that’s we’ll run across during the run of FH but tieflings live 20-40 years longer than humans according to the official D&D lore. So lets say Fig lives to be 120 years old. And let’s say she sticks with her high school girlfriend and marries her. It’s possible they die at around the same time and then Ayda has to Deal With That in her next life but that’s not what I’m interested in. What happens if you’re a full elderly woman and your partner phoenixes into a child? What are the ethics of that? How do you deal with that? Chronomancy?

The horrified, “Love wins!” from Daybreak.

Is there a reason the viewing room Riz was in had thrones in it or is Hell just very about the ~aesthetic~

Every time a DM asks for a HP total, my entire being clenches in prep for a Power Word Kill.

“I’m gonna need a Dexter--”/”Counterspell.”

“You guys murdered me too but we hashed it out.”

I totally forgot that the Bad Kids lied that Ragh had shat his pants until the moment Adaine was saying it this episode. Freshman Year was WILD.

Also, just wanna take a second to talk about the elevation of Ragh from this side-note bully to a fully fledged, likeable character with depth and and an arc and gay spit. D&D is crazy.

Summoning Boggy via Bloody Mary is such a delightful image.

So, Kalina is the one that led Riz down the path that led to him finding out Pok is an Undercover Angel (!!!), which means one of three things: (1) She knew but miscalculated hard, (2) she didn’t know and made a different but also big miscalculation, (3) she did know and she’s doing some kind of 4-D chess thing we don’t know about yet.

Ayda hitting Fabian with a portent and then swooping in and saving Adaine. So clutch. What a good NPC to befriend.

Speaking of, I think we all kinda figured, but Brennan officially said on Twitter or the Discord (I don’t remember which) that Ayda is autistic. Like, I was pretty sure but I didn’t wanna assume.

Lol at the absolute lack of respect Kalvaxus got in this episode.

Pok as an Undercover Angel is SO GOOD. Like, I didn’t think he was really bad for a second but I never could have guessed he was an UNDERCOVER ANGEL. That’s such a dope combination of words. Undercover Angel (which my computer keeps trying to correct to undercover agent which isn’t wrong to be fair). Man. I love this. I love this for me and I love this for Riz. Riz deserves this. After so much crap in his life and so many mind games from Kalina and all this turmoil, he deserves to know that not only is his dad a good person who loved/loves him, he’s SO good that he’s an ANGEL and he was such a good spy in life he still is a secret agent in death. God, what a reveal. I can’t believe Riz got Spy Kids-ed TWICE by the same parent. Can’t wait to hear what exactly is going on with him.

Wait, what’s goblin heaven like? Which god is sanctioning this? Who is he working for exactly?

This episode, Kristen and Gorgug rolled 1 Nat 20 each, while Riz, Fabian, and Brennan each got 2. On the flipside, Adaine got 2 Nat 1’s, Fig and Fabian each rolled 1 that was cancelled, and Riz rolled 1 (in addition, Murph rolled two more which were lair actions and one of which was cancelled by a luck point so they don’t really count but it was very funny so I wanted to note it).

#fantasy high #fantasy high live #fantasy high spoilers #dimension 20 #dimension 20 spoilers #wow a recap that isn't a million pages for once #turns out I can do it

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professorspork · 4 years ago

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ANOTHER BUSY DAY IN THE ANDROMEDA GALAXY

I started the day running errands on Havarl, culminating with finishing off Jaal’s loyalty mission! I took Vetra with us thinking ‘hey, if anyone knows sibling dynamics...’ but then she factored into all of that absolutely 0%, lol @ me. but no matter! Jaal was super flirty as we made our way to the Forge, and it was adorable when he was like “HERE MEET MY FRIEND SO YOU CAN SEE AKKSUL IS WRONG” and bodily dragged me toward his siblings. their fight was absorbing and intense; I LEGIT GASPED WHEN HIS SISTER SHOT HIS BROTHER. LIKE!! the whole confrontation with Akksul felt super weighty and I really enjoyed it-- keeping my trigger discipline to not shoot that dude was really hard! there was a split second there where his bolt was headed toward Jaal’s face and I was like “if I kill off Jaal in his loyalty mission I’ll be so upset” but nope it all worked out, he has a bitchin cheek scar now, and the respect of his people, and I got a forehead touch so y’know. i melted. GOSH. then I died laughing at Akksul’s not-apology email.

now Jaal wants me to meet his mom(s) but Helen said that’ll lock in the romance, so I’ll probably wait just a little longer so I can uh keep having FWB sex with Peebee and ?maybe??? flirt with Vetra at some point? altho I teasingly called her MOM last time we were in Kadara Port so maybe not. (Jaal still hates it there, he’s so grumpy and it’s cute, but I digress)

this one got even longer than usual so doing a cut

one thing that I really like, that the game navigates in interesting ways, is that to the angara, we’re all just “Milky Way people.” like. so much of the original trilogy is about navigating the differences between all these aliens, and like, some of that is here too, esp with the krogan, but it’s actually really neat the way we’ve flattened out. and even with the krogan it’s still night and day-- like. comparing what Tuchanka is like in ME2 when Wrex is still solidifying his status as warlord is miles away from what it’s like for me to wander around New Tuchanka or, especially, just run into random krogan out and about (like the nice water scouts. WHY COULDN’T I JUST GIVE THEM THE WATER? but I’m getting ahead of myself). I know some of it has the Watsonian explanation of, like, only forward-thinking, open-minded krogan would be interested in the Initiative in the first place, and some of it is the Doylist explanation of ‘well people really liked that Charr/Ereba romance so let’s have more sweetie pie krogan’ but like. overall. it’s interesting, and I’m sure there’s more angles I haven’t considered.

I traced more of those comm buoys for Addison and learned that the doctor she’s obsessed with ran away to get pregnant! I definitely read that whole situation as Addison being in love with this lady and tbh it still doesn’t refute it? but I won’t get any more progress until I make a new outpost. the whole idea of ‘the first human baby born in Heleus’ thing is really cool, though, and I’m invested.

then I went to Elaaden! I feel some kind of way about Lexi diagnosing all of these scavengers with Brain Disease, but I can’t put my finger on it exactly-- other than, I guess, my general discomfort with pathologizing criminality. I was glad she said we couldn’t vaccinate people without their consent, but the whole thing smacks as very... self-conscious on the part of the game creators? like they thought people would say “hey it’s a huge plot hole that the Initiative screened every person before putting them on the arks and yet so many of them do crimes, explain that to me” and they were like “oh yeah shit that makes no sense, it’s not like people faced with the existential crisis of being in a brand new place 600 years away from everything they’ve ever known with no way back and not enough resources and multiple things wanting to kill them might just make desperate, risky choices, that’s not good enough, obviously we need to explain it with BRAIN DISEASE.” come on.

I made it to New Tuchanka, where the postings on the terminals are literally my favorite part of this whole game. THE ONE KROGAN WHO WANTS GINGERBREAD. THE ONE WHO DOESN’T WANT TO FOCUS ON CONS AND SUGGESTS A “PRO-VERSATION.” THE ONE ABOUT THE “PROBLETUNITY” OF MATING SUGGESTING WATCHING KRANTT HARDLY WAIT. THE ONE WHO INVENTED BLOOD RAGE FOR GUN TURRETS. but also, the best one, my favorite one of all: KRANTT THE RAGENING LARP. there is nothing I would not give to play Krantt: The Ragening.

I sort of tripped and fell and decided to finish Drack’s loyalty mission even though I intended to do more Elaaden things first, and that was a blast. Vorn is so presh! and also Drack is my dad so there’s that. I loved that Vorn helped save the day with a poison vegetable, and I love that Kesh pretended not to like the flower he got her. it was like-- okay. real talk, I just spent like 20 minutes trying to find proof that there is, in fact, a scene in parks and rec where someone gives April a friendship bracelet and she pretended to hate it until they threatened to take it back and could not find it ANYWHERE and felt so gaslit until I realized that that scene was not about April at all but Louise Belcher so. GOOD JOB ME. anyway. it was like that. kesh pretending her comm was broken when Tann tried to talk to her is the oldest joke in the book but I laughed anyway.

and then I TOOK SPENDER DOWN FOR GOOD. I’m a little miffed that neither Kesh nor Tann got to be in on that discussion; like, I recognize he was Addison’s underling but given all the bullshit he pulled with the krogan I especially felt Kesh deserved to be there? at one point there was a dialogue tree where I could either say it was Addison’s fault or Spender’s fault, and I picked the latter because I think they both such but Spender sucks worse, but in hindsight I wish I’d stuck it to Addison more because my dialogue was way too nice. when faced with the choice of jailing or exiling Spender, I picked jail despite my desire to defund Nexus Militia because I was scared if I exiled him he’d just come back as a worse enemy because of all his off-station contacts. when reviewing the choice in the codex, though, it narrativized my choice by saying I imprisoned him knowing he “would never survive life on the run from his former associates.” that wasn’t my assumption at all! quite the opposite! I jailed him thinking he’d start a coup from without if I didn’t, and it’s really interesting to me that the game isn’t framing that as a concern Ryder would have reasonably had. anyway, now Brecka has his job, which is good because Brecka is the best.

before leaving I unlocked my last memory, and SURPRISE MY MOM IS ALIVE. WELL. FOR A GIVEN DEFINITION OF ALIVE. i don’t know why I’m surprised; of course my dad sucked that much. but also, the fact that all of that got nestled in with the reaper ‘reveal’ (if you can call it that) felt... very strange? like. this is such a personal, emotional thing for Ryder. obviously for the player harkening back to the trilogy is supposed to be a gut wrench, and objectively, yes, I can see how the knowledge that they might have narrowly escaped certain death is a big deal, but like. the reapers aren’t HERE. they aren’t relevant. my MOM, on the other hand, is and is, apparently! it’s occurring to me I didn’t even try to find her mis-labeled pod, I was so turned around by all the benefactor stuff after the fact. anyway.

swung by Kadara to get drinks with Drack and had an epic bar fight, and then Lexi p much lectured us both abt it because Drack is like 90% spit and duct tape at this point. him talking about raising Kesh giving him a new lease on life was VERY sweet, tho, and his line about how parents aren’t the finish line, they’re the starting line was very good.

went back to Elaaden, which Jaal called “a big planet” while discussing hunting someone down and AU CONTRAIRE, JAAL, IT IS A MOON. wish I’d had Drack with me when I found Annea’s water because I bet he would have had better dialogue than Cora, but alas. felt very weird giving control of the reservoir to the Nexus, but like. Annea being like “you can’t, this is my emotional support monopoly on a vital natural resource” just wasn’t gonna fly with how I’m playing Ryder. I was gratified to hear the Nexus guy at Paradise say we were giving the water to everyone, including krogan and scavengers, because I 100% did not trust Tann not to overrule him with some shitty call.

then I went to the Remnant ship to stop Morda from making a bomb out of the drive core, and it was all going swimmingly until I traced the signal to that cave inside the flophouse and suddenly my triangle button stopped working, making me unable to activate the console. YIKES. a quick google of the issue tells me that this mission is buggy for a lot of people and reloading from an earlier save tends to help, but I tried that and the issue persisted so I gave up for the evening. hopefully a fresh start tomorrow and time for the ps4 to cool off is all that is required.

#leah plays mass effect andromeda

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gingerwritess · 5 years ago

Note

Hello, I hope you have a nice evening, morning, afternoon or whenever you read it and in whole just a good day🌸 Secondly I'd like to ask: how would Loki react, if Elliot doesn't think girls are 'bleegh' anymore? Would Loki give Elliot advice on how he courted the reader? I'm sorry if you don't take these requests and I'm sorry if that made you uncomfortable in any way. Stay healthy and happy🌸

thankyouforrequestingthissokindlywtfthatmademesohappy

also i know i didn’t get to the actual “advice” but this was getting really long so that part will be a separate drabble h e h

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

“Hey, dad?”

Loki nods, biting the tip of his tongue as he carefully measures a teaspoon of olive oil. “Hm?”

“You busy right now?”

“A bit,” he murmurs, focusing on not spilling—the tiny little measuring spoons you got years ago are much to small for his fingers.

Elliot quickly nods. “Gotcha. I’ll, um, come back later.”

“No, no, I can multitask, what can I do for you?”

“It’s all good,” Elliot assures him, backing out of the kitchen. “It’s stupid anyways, I’ll just ask mom or look it up or something.”

“Elliot,” Loki laughs, setting down the olive oil and grabbing a wooden spoon, pointing it at his son, then at the fridge. “Talk to me. And get me a stick of butter, I could use the help.”

A little smile lights the kid’s face and he rushes to the fridge, grabbing the butter and tossing it to Loki. “You know I can’t cook,” he reminds him, leaning against the counter as Loki mixes. “So I don’t think I can be of much help, but I’ll try.”

“You didn’t get that from me,” Loki chuckles. “Blame your mother. What did you need?”

“That’s kinda what I wanted to ask you about.”

“Your mother?” Loki glances at the time—good, you’re not supposed to be home for another hour. “Are you wondering how she ended up with someone like me?”

“Not really, I think I get that part,” Elliot replies, rubbing the back of his neck. “Kind of. I don’t know. Um, I just was wondering if you, um…”

“…yes?”

“If-if you could maybe, I don’t know, give me some advice?”

The wooden spoon falls to the counter with a clatter.

Oh, no big deal, Loki’s son just came to him seeking advice, trusting him to lead him in the right direction with his knowledge and guidance, trusting him not to steer him wrong, that’s all.

Easily one of the best moments in Loki’s thousands of years of life.

“O-of course, I’d be happy to help,” he stutters, quickly trying to cover his surprise. “Advice with what?”

A relieved grin breaking over his lips, Elliot shuffles a little closer to his dad at the stove. “There’s, uh, this girl.”

Loki all but chokes, dropping the spoon in his risotto and whirling around to his son.

“There’s a WHAT??”

“A girl,” Elliot laughs sheepishly, picking up the fallen spoon and handing it back to Loki. “C’mon, dad, don’t make this weird.”

“Okay, right, sure.” Loki nods, trying to control his grin. “What advice do you need?”

“Well, I, um, don’t know if she likes me back.”

“You are in love with someone who doesn’t like you?”

“No!” Elliot backtracks, eyes wide. “No, no, no, I didn’t say I’m in love with her, yikes, no—”

“Why do you say that like it’s a bad thing?”

“I can’t be in love, dad, that’s…not possible. I just like her.”

“Not possible,” Loki repeats slowly, going back to his cooking. “You know, your mother tried to kill me when we first met. I didn’t think loving her would be possible either, but here we are.”

“So you’re saying if Morgan tries to kill me, she might love me?” Elliot snorts and shakes his head. “Nah, thanks, dad. I think you and mom were just a little weird. Special case.”

No answer.

Loki’s frozen at the stove, knuckles turning white around the handle of his spoon—he must have misheard the name.

Not Morgan…Stark, right?

“N-no,” he tries to bring himself back, give the best advice he can—giving advice? Yeah, this is a first for Loki. “I only mean to say…love, if you, erm, believe in that sort of thing, it’s—it’s different for everyone, a-and you never know where you might find it—”

“But I know where I found it,” Elliot cuts in, confusion etching itself into his brow as Loki rambles. “I just don’t know what to do with it. What’d you do when you figured out you loved mom?”

Loki swallows thickly. Gods, he wishes you were home for this conversation. The puberty talk was fun enough on his own, but now this?

A little part of him wonders if it’s healthy to be scared to talk to your children, yet here he is, heart pounding and palms starting to sweat as Elliot waits for him to answer.

Elliot repeats the question, a little quieter, gentler this time.

Oh, gods.

“Y-you should ask your mother,” he quietly offers, keeping his gaze trained on his cooking. “She’s better at this, all these, ah…” he breathes a quiet laugh. “Emotions.”

His dish isn’t turning out well, honestly, the rice is a bit burned and the sauce seems to be about to break on him. Wonderful.

It was supposed to be a surprise for you, since you’d been gone most of the day after weeks of little sleep, a surplus of work, and Frigg deciding she “doesn’t need third grade” after all.

For the record, he’s a supporter of the little movement.

“Okay.” Elliot nods, glancing at the mess on the counter. “Do you want some time alone? You don’t look too good, I don’t want to be a bother…”

“No,” Loki snaps and his fist hits the countertop, sending measuring cups flying as he stares at his failed meal.

Elliot flinches and takes a step back.

“Mom’ll be home any minute,” he reminds him, palms up in front of him. “I’m sorry, I’m really, really sorry if I said something, dad, really—”

“Please don’t leave.” Loki’s voice cracks and Elliot gulps.

“Okay.”

A moment passes, Loki hunched over the counter and gripping the edge in a white-knuckled hold, Elliot watching cautiously from the doorway, picking at the palm of one hand.

Laughter breaks the silence, Loki’s, Elliot realises, his dad is laughing now and sounds borderline psychotic.

“What did I do?” Loki turns to him, eyes bloodshot and swimming with unfalling tears. “Yes…what did I do when I realised I loved your mother?”

Elliot just stares, wishing you were here, too.

“You want to know—w-what I did,” Loki laughs behind a wet sniff, “when I realised I loved your mother? I denied it for months, Elliot, and I treated her like a piece of shit.”

A hollow, dull ache fills the boy’s chest and the room goes cold—Loki doesn’t cuss in front of him or Frigg; only on the rarest of occasions when he needs to really, really emphasise a point.

“I acted like I hated her,” he spits out, eyes flashing, “and many times convinced myself that I did, a-and when I finally admitted I-I loved her, she wanted nothing to do with me because I’d ruined every single chance to love her with my arrogance a-and my stupidity—”

“Dad, dad, easy,” Elliot laughs nervously, rushing to Loki’s side and laying a cautious hand on his arm. “It’s alright.”

Loki pauses, taking a deep breath and glaring at the ground, hating himself for snapping so easily in front of his son.

“Is this…something to do with your past?”

Ignorant little boy. Beautiful, ignorant, clueless, perfect little boy.

“The part you won’t tell us about,” Elliot clarifies. “‘Cause I didn’t mean to trigger anything, dad, I’m sorry, I really didn’t.”

“Don’t apologise.” Loki runs a hand over his face, exhaling heavily and trying to rub away the tears left in his eyes. “Gods, don’t ever apologise to me, I don’t deserve that.”

“Okay, but—”

“And you’d never be a bother,” he keeps whispering, an intensity in his voice to match that burning in his eyes when he grabs Elliot by the shoulders and bends down to eye level. “Thank you for coming to me, I-I’m so sorry I did this to you, put you through this—”

“We’re baaack!”

Frigg flounces through the door, slamming it behind her—right in your face, but you just sigh and trudge in after her.

“There she is,” Loki laughs, squeezing Elliot’s arm once more before bending down to swoop his little princess into his arms.

A flicker of light flashes over Loki’s face, a split second of changing energy, too quick for your tired eyes to catch or for Frigg to notice in the midst of her hug—Elliot sees it.

He glances up at his father, seeing a smiling, fresh face, full of light and nothing like the broken man he’d just encountered.

Elliot’s learning that his dad is a really good liar.

“Get expelled yet?” Loki plants a kiss on Frigg’s cheek, smiling all the while.

“Not yet,” she giggles, hugging him tight around the neck. “M’gonna need some help for that.”

“Just tell me what you need.”

“Loki,” you yawn, waving a hand at the three of them. “Don’t encourage this, she’s already gaining supporters on the playground.”

“Are you really?” Loki sets her down, grabbing her hand and guiding her in a quick twirl. “You’ll be a fearsome queen one day, Frigg. I can already see you on your throne, leading your people to prosper—”

“How about a shower for her majesty first,” you jump in with a pointed look to your husband, “and ruling kingdoms later??”

“I would listen to the current queen, if I were you.” Loki raises an eyebrow at his daughter. “Obey and you might just survive her rule.”

Frigg immediately straightens up, flinging a stiff salute at you and bolting off down the hallway to her room.

“Good lord,” you groan, sinking into a chair at the table. “She’s…she’s…your child.”

You wave a hand at Loki.

“Goddess of mischief,” he laughs, and Elliot glances at him—there’s no use hiding it anymore, right? Frigg’s gone, you’re here…

Nope. Loki walks to your side, tilts your head up to plant a kiss to your lips, brushing his thumb over your cheek as you hum happily and lean against him.

“Well, I attempted a risotto.” Loki sighs and gestures at the mess across the kitchen. “I had hoped to surprise you, but…no such luck.”

“Aw, thank you,” you mumble, reaching for him again and pulling him down for another sloppy kiss. “S’sweet of you, I bet it’s really good.”

“It’s…not.”

Elliot wants to laugh, awkwardly watching the two of you, but it’s more painful than heartwarming or humorous to watch his dad act this time, knowing what he’s really hiding.

“Want me to order takeout again?” Plastering a smile on his face, Elliot walks over and gives you a quick hug.

“That…might be best,” you reply, hugging your son back and giving Loki a sheepish grin over his shoulder. “Unless you wanna eat it anyways, Loki?”

“No.” Loki shakes his head with a laugh. “I’ll cook for you tomorrow, it’ll be better, I promise.”

Elliot desperately wants to say something, warn you about what happened and suggest maybe you eat the attempted meal anyways, but Loki just smiles and laughs and ruffles a hand through his hair.

“Thanks, Elliot.”

His smile seems sad behind the facade, and he squeezes Elliot’s arm as he walks by—almost like he wants to say something more.

But he doesn’t, he takes your hand in his and follows you as you lead him out of the kitchen, apparently unbothered by what just happened.

…leaving Elliot standing in the middle of the kitchen, extremely confused.

* * * *

After a lovely dinner with thankfully only one wonton thrown across the table—you’d expected Frigg to start it, but nope, thanks, Loki, very mature—you noticed Loki’s a bit…off.

Not terribly off, no, just acting a little bit strange.

A little distant, distracted, and he doesn’t even laugh when you tell him about the “mimicking the principals voice and telling her teacher he’s fired” phone call that Frigg had managed to pull off today.

His mind is clearly elsewhere as you kiss your kids goodnight and send them off to bed, clearly elsewhere when you drag him out of his little library-office to go get ready for bed, only for him to flop onto the mattress and curl in on himself, hugging his knees to his chest.

“Okay, what’s going on?”

Climbing onto the bed and poking his turned back, you peek over his shoulder. “Seriously, Loki, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” He pulls a pillow over his head.

Very. Very. Mature.

“You’re a bad liar,” you sing, yanking the pillow off his head and pressing a loud smooch to his cheek before he can protest. “How many times do I have to tell you? I can see right through you, trickster.”

“You’re just nosy,” he grumbles, but sits up and crosses his arms. “I only ruined every good idea my son may have had of me, that’s all, will you leave me alone now?”

You blink a couple times in shock, flabbergasted and more than confused.

“What are you talking about?? Elliot loves you, he thinks you’re incredible!” You scramble over the bed to wrap your arms around him, hugging him tight to your chest. “You’re his biggest role model, his hero, my hero, and we love you. And like hell I’m gonna leave you alone, nice try.”

“He came to me asking for my advice.”

“Loki, that’s amazing,” you murmur, stroking a hand through his hair. “I can only imagine how much that must mean to you, that’s wonderful, snowflake—”

“Know what I did?”

Voice gone sour, he pushes out of your hug and looks you intently in the eye.

“Yelled,” he hoarsely tells you. “I yelled and I punched the counter and I told him that I hated you, and-and I cried, I broke down and wept in front of my son like a fool, a-and—”

A sob cracks through the room.

“Fuck.” He drops his head to his hands, shoulders shaking. “Damn it, I can’t stop fucking crying.”

Heart pounding, you hurry to sit on the edge of the bed next to him, rubbing a comforting hand up and down his spine.

“Hey, Loki, honey…where’s all this coming from?”

“Like hell I know,” he spits, hiding his face in his hands, hunched over with elbows on his knees as you try to comfort him. “I had a chance. I had a fucking chance with him and I threw it away, made his ‘advice’ all about my own sick problems like the selfish, fucking idiot I am.”

“Loki! You’re not selfish, what the hell are you talking about?”

“Yes, I am, my son came to me admitting to possibly being in love with someone and by the end of the conversation, my son was comforting me, being gentle with me, reassuring me in my relationship—”

“Wait, wait, Elliot’s in love with someone?”

Loki’s mouth snaps shut—the more he thinks about it, he’d nearly forgotten the initial topic of Elliot’s asking for advice.

“That’s what he told me,” he answers quietly, staring at his hands. “Someone named Morgan. We didn’t even get to talk much about it before I ruined the moment, as you know I do so well.”

A smile tugs at the corners of your mouth as you take his hands in yours—finally, Elliot.

“Well, that’s wonderful,” you laugh, rubbing his back and tilting his head up with a finger under his chin. “But know what’s even better?”

The glare Loki shoots you could only be described as royal.

“He told you.” Your fingers curl around his jaw and you pull him closer. “Your son still told you that, he came to you and wanted to share that with you, he wanted your advice, Loki.”

“Yes, and I ruined it and pushed him away like I always do, I just told him to go talk to you.”

“He didn’t.” Resting your forehead against his, you stroke a thumb along his jaw, smiling softly at him. “He never said anything about this to me, snowflake, he wants you to help him.”

“Oh.”

Loki falls silent, head slowly leaning into your touch.

Whenever you hold him like this, arm around his shoulders and now hugging his head in the crook of your neck, running languid fingers through his hair, Loki swears he can count the days of his life.

This seems so…mortal. This whole failure thing.

Humans are so good at failing—it’s the one thing he’s noticed since he first started watching Midgard.

You’re good at failing. It doesn’t scare you, it seems; you rush head-on into uncharted territory and look for things to try, just so you can fail and try again.

You actually like his failures, calling them opportunities and learning experiences and helping him back up, forgiving him time and time again like the clueless idiot you must be to love him—

More failure, his mind spins, just another person to disappoint.

He’s known that since the first moment he held Elliot’s tiny form in his hands.

Your fingers curl and brush through his hair, heartbeat steady under his head.

“…what do I do?”

You press your lips to his forehead, brushing some strands of hair behind his ear. “You could start by going a little easier on yourself. Have some faith that you’re not completely unlovable.”

He gives a dry laugh. “Not completely?”

“Mmm…I don’t know,” you giggle, hoping your smile can help get him back on his feet. “There’s just something about you I can’t help but love.”

Half a lopsided smile tugs at his lips.

“I’ll try.”

“Good.” You hop to your feet to stand in front of him, grabbing his face between your hands and gazing seriously into his eyes. “Know what else?”

“What?”

“I’m pretty sure Elliot’s room is just a hallway away. And I’m pretty sure he’s still awake, wondering how the hell to successfully court a certain fair maiden.”

“Oh, gods, no.” Loki stands up, furiously shaking his head. “What am I supposed to tell him? Well,” he sarcastically starts, “you could always burn down her office building, asking her to kill you seemed to work well for me—”

“No, no, no,” you laugh, jumping up after him and pulling him into another hug. “Just talk to him about…doing nice things for her, things he wouldn’t normally do. Just get him to talk about his feelings about her, and report everything back to me, I’ve been waiting years for these two to get together.”

Loki frowns. “You know this girl?”

“You do, too, snowflake.” A giddy grin spreads across your face. “Morgan?”

“Wait, no.” His eyes wide, he takes a step away from you. “No, no, no, not Morgan Stark, tell me it’s not her.”

Biting back a laugh, you raise an eyebrow at him. “Do you know any other Morgans?”

“My son is in love with Tony Stark’s daughter.”

“Get used to it.”

“Do you have any idea what hell this is going to unleash?? Stark is going to wring my neck, and gods forbid Elliot ever upset her—if he even allows it—or it’s my own back taking the lashings—”

“Just go,” you laugh, pushing him towards the door. “Teach him how to be just as romantic as you are and just as adorable and absolutely, completely irresistible.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

hope you enjoyed, please reblog and feel free to send me ideas!

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fanfickittycat · 5 years ago

Text

The Price

TITLE: The Price CHAPTER NUMBER/ONE SHOT: Chapter 10 AUTHOR: fanfickittycat CHARACTERS/PAIRING: Roman Godfrey x OC GENRE: Romance, Smut FIC SUMMARY: Ginger makes a deal with popular bad boy Roman, if he helps her up the social ladder by pretending to be her boyfriend then she’ll be his dog in return RATING: M AUTHORS NOTES/WARNINGS: Spitting in people’s mouths and Christmas

The news of my parents getting snowed in at a relative’s house came as a huge disappointment. I had waited for the annual tradition of decorating the house and tree to come around and the weather had postponed any chance of doing so.

“You can do it by yourself” my mother had suggested, and I had been appalled by the suggestion.

“It’s a family tradition” I insisted “it needs to be done with the family.”

“Maybe invite some of your friends around instead” she sounded irked by my protests “or what about your gentleman caller?”

I groaned at the term and then proceeded to listen to my father in the background of the call object against Roman and I being home alone together. After a few minutes of listening to my parents (and then my aunt and uncle) debate if I was mature enough, or if Roman was to be trusted I hung up the phone and wandered around my depressingly empty house. The tree stood naked in the living room; only a smattering of pine needles embellished the floor and served as the sole Christmas adornment in the house. The whole scene only became more pathetic and dismal when I tried to play seasonal music.

So my fingers ended up twitching. My new friends who were much nicer had plans already, or the snow had meant that travelling all the way over to mine would have been too much. Only Roman was left to contact and he didn’t pick up when I called.

“I’m an adult” I reasoned, even though I was far from being grown up in any sense of the phrase. The reindeer sweater my grandma had made for me three years ago didn’t help, but dammit, I was not going to let it stop me from trying to retrieve the boxes of dusty decorations from the attic. Now, me tripping with the box almost stopped me, and the tears the threatened to fall after the accident made it almost possible for me to give up but I didn’t. Mostly because a rapping at the door meant that I couldn’t cry, lest I wanted to scare away the carollers, or children from the elementary school who always sold wrapping paper door to door this time of year.

I looked through the peephole like I had been taught to do when someone knocked on the door and my parents weren’t home. It was Roman, with a light coat of snow decorating his hair.

“Wow,” he said when I opened the door “you go out in that thing and I’ll have to start fighting guys off left, right, and centre” he poked the knitted red nose on Rudolph, and I felt the cold of his glove on my abdomen. I shivered and quickly pulled him in to get him out of the cold.

“I like it. It makes me feel Christmassy.”

“How old are you again?” I swatted his arm playfully and he laughed, dodging my attacks easily “are your parents in? I didn’t see their car in the drive.”

“They’re stuck at my aunt’s,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest as we walked into the living room where the box who tried to kill me sat.

“Home alone, huh?” He tried to sound nonchalant about it but I could practically hear the grin in his voice.

“I didn’t call for that,” I said, fiddling with my hair “I just… Look, nobody’s home and we were meant to decorate and now we can’t.” I tried to avoid Roman’s gaze “I guess I thought that maybe you’d like to help decorate.”

He was quiet for a moment which was surprising when you truly considered how much Roman loved making fun of me. I peered at him cautiously, confused by his silence as his eyes moved around the room.

“I don’t know how much help I can be,” he said, sounding remarkably earnest “I’ve never decorated at Christmas.”

“What?!”

He looked down at his slacks and brushed them with the palm of his hand “my mom always paid people to professionally decorate the house so…” he trailed off, only punctuating the sentence with a shrug of his shoulders.

“Well it’s not hard,” I said, trying to sound encouraging “you just have fun and try to make things look pretty. You should be good at that, you always look pretty.”

He finally cracked a smile “you better not tell Peter that otherwise, I’ll never hear the end of it.”

“Can’t help it if you’re a pretty boy” I teased “Roman Godfrey: the prettiest boy in Hemlock Grove; no, in Pennsylvania; no wait, the prettiest boy in America.”

“I can always leave” he mock threatened, standing up again only to have me join his side and squeeze his hand.

“Please don’t.”

He pursed his lips and considered me thoughtfully “fine. Show me how Christmas decorations work, puppy.”

Roman, it turned out, was terrible at arts and crafts. The paper snowmen that I had shown him how to make were meant to look whimsical, with a little bit of string tied to them so that they could be hung with ease. Roman’s looked like Frosty had been hung. The stringing of popcorn onto thread had ended with Roman licking pinpricks of blood off of his finger.

“Are you a vampire?”

He smiled slyly “duh.”

He ended up finally being useful by being tall enough to put the star on top of the tree, though he didn’t see it as a big deal. He was better at decorating the tree, and clearly had an eye for aesthetics. The way his forehead creased as he debated where to hang the ornaments was a sight to behold, and his cautious hand moved carefully around the tree to find the best place to put the stars and baubles.

“It looks great” I clapped my hands in excitement, unable to contain my glee when Roman plugged the twinkling lights in.

“It’s… okay, I guess” he admitted, “but only because I‘m such a natural at this.”

I rolled my eyes, earning me a playful nudge in the side.

“Do you want anything to drink?” I asked, “I have a hot chocolate mix.”

“Only if we can add this” he pulled out a bottle of bourbon and I wrinkled my nose.

“My dad drinks this kind of stuff,” I said, giving it a cautious sniff.

“Then your dad has good taste,” he said flippantly “come on, live a little puppy.”

I ended up letting him add a splash into the hot chocolate, and I had to admit that it paired well with the drink. The warm milk and added alcohol made my throat warm, and I leaned my head against Roman as we drank.

“Does your mom really pay for people to decorate your house?”

“You’d be surprised where money can get you.” He stroked my hair absentmindedly, telling me about one year where a decorator had accidentally dropped one of the artisan glass baubles that had been flown in from Venice, and his mother had lost it. His impression of her was uncanny.

“Yikes… I was really about to quit scooping ice cream to decorate your house” I teased, lapping up the last of the hot chocolate, and placing my mug next to Roman’s empty one on the coffee table.

“Hmmm,” he mused, letting his fingers trail down the side of my neck to play with a tendril of my hair “maybe you should quit your job and be my personal, full-time pet.”

“I’m already your pet” I mumbled, still feeling halfway between pleased and embarrassed to be saying the words.

He was contented by the words but continued “yes, but think how cute you’d be curled up at the end of my bed. You could bring me my slippers in the morning.” He curled a strand of my hair around his finger and then let it go before repeating the action.

I scoffed “Oh yeah? What else? Feed me scraps of ham when I give my paw?”

“See” he squeezed my cheek “now you’re getting the gist.” I rolled my eyes, attempting to shake his hand off of my chin but he didn’t let go. His fingers gripped lightly, and I watched with a dry throat as his eyes lingered on my lips.

“You know what I’d do if I got to come home to you, my little pet?” He mused, and I bit the inside of my cheeks, waiting for him to tell me.

“Well, let’s see…” He started, letting his finger trace my collar bones “I would come home and you’d be waiting by the door like a good girl. I’d have to praise you, wouldn’t I? How could I ignore you when you’re being so sweet for me? I’d just have to let you sit on my lap.” His hand trailed down, landing on my hip and curling around. He tugged, gently at first and then more forcefully. I crawled onto his lap, straddling him as though it was second nature. My Christmas playlist had since finished, and the only sound was the crackling of the fire I had insisted we turn on. One of his hands remained curved around my waist, whilst the other snaked up my back, petting my hair. I relaxed against his touch though I trembled in anticipation.

“Just like this” he ghosted his lips over the side of my neck, pleased when he heard me gasp. His tongue darted out, drawing a tantalisingly slow circle on my skin. He pulled back and admired the blush he had managed to draw out from me.

“Puppy” he crooned, silently commanding me to meet his gaze. His pupils were blown, and a wolfish smile on his face only further complicated my breathing. The navy turtleneck he wore that I had admired before now irritated me. I pawed at it.

“Take it off, Roman.”

“You first,” he insisted, letting his hand slide under my jumper and rest on my side. He drummed his fingers lightly, taking pleasure in me clumsily trying to take off the garment. He watched, eagerly devouring my new found flesh with his eyes. He hummed in approval, caressing up along my back; feeling the sharp edges of my shoulder blades; revelling in the softness of my abdomen; pressing his lips to the area below my collar bones. My hips began to writhe crudely, enjoying the new sensation with no abandon. It was only when Roman began to fiddle with the clasp of my bra that I pulled back a little. He tossed the article of clothing to the side carelessly.

“Roman…” I murmured, looking down at my exposed form.

“You’re so pretty” he mumbled, lowering his head as his tongue pressed itself against my nipple, coating it in wetness. I couldn’t help but gasp louder, surprised by how the feeling shot down to between my legs. He retreated a little and blew on the damp skin, enjoying the way I shivered. I clawed at his back again, prompting him to meet my gaze.

“Roman you promised” I tried to pull up his roll neck again, only to be pinched suddenly by him.

“Remember your place, dog,” he said, though not unkindly “you have to do something for me first.”

I groaned “isn’t this enough?” I looked down at my half-naked body. He laughed and tutted.

“Oh trust me it’s very much appreciated, but I wanted a little something more. Surely a good, little pet like you doesn’t mind? Don’t you want to do this one tiny thing for your owner?”

“Yes,” I admitted quietly, biting my lip when he asked me to repeat it louder “yes, I want to.” He closed the gap between our mouths, kissing me in a way that had me curling my toes in mere moments. His lips moved so effortlessly with mine I lost myself easily. His mouth opened a little, persuading mine to do so too.

He pulled back again, earning a groan from me. “Open” he commanded, and I did so without thinking. He leaned in again and spat in my mouth. “Close” he directed and then said, “swallow”. I was so shocked I couldn’t help but follow his instructions. He watched, gauging my reaction to the act. I was caught between being turned on by the gesture and being disgusted at myself for enjoying something so lewd.

“Again,” I said, feeling more brazen than before, pressing my palms into his chest and leaning in desperately. He grinned in victory, stroking my hair in appreciation. He looked almost proud.

“I thought you were trying to get under my shirt.”

I whined, “why can’t I have both?” I was stopped when the garment was taken off and observed, entirely enthralled with the vision of Roman’s body. His skin was such a pale shade that if he was still enough he could easily be a statue. I smiled, biting my lip to hide my giggles.

“What?”

“Nothing. Just…” I shrugged “do you need to wear like, SPF 5000 or what?”

“Bad dog,” he said, pinching my side again but he was smiling too.

“No really, what’s it like to know that Jack Frost is your real dad?”

“Stop. I’m warning you.”

“Sorry, I know how much it hurts that they turned you down for the role of Edward Cullen.”

“That’s it.” He turned us over so my back was against the floor and he was on top of me, pinning my wrists above my head. I yelped and laughed, struggling against his hold on me. I panted, aware of our state of undress, but not caring all the same.

“You’ve had your fun” he warned, smiling wickedly “but don’t forget who’s in charge, dog.” He reached over for a leftover piece of ribbon from decorating and tied my wrists with a practised hand.

“You’re no fun” I complained but stayed put. We both knew I could easily manoeuvre out of the flimsy bow but I was excited by the move and I knew he was too. He reached under my skirt and pressed the pad of his finger against the soaked material. I bucked against his touch, seeking something more but he refused.

“See what happens when you disobey me,” he said, with a smug smile on his face. He lightly danced his fingers up and down the small pathway of cotton, and I exhaled sharply making puppy eyes at him in an attempt to convince him. He shook his head.

“Please” I begged, looking at him up through my eyelashes.

“Aw,” he said, his voice dripping with mock sympathy “you’re all wet, puppy. I bet you’d love it if someone was able to help you out with that, especially seeing as you’re all tied up.” He laughed darkly.

“Roman, please.”

“Please what?” He continued, moving his digits lethargically over my centre. I whined again and he blinked innocently, moving his face closer to mine as though inspecting for the cause.

“Please touch me.”

“I was under the impression that I was.”

“You know what I mean.”

“No… No, I don’t think I do.” I pouted and he sucked my bottom lip, even daring to bite once or twice. He pulled back, looking at my swollen lips and the frustrated tears in my eyes.

“Alright,” he conceded “let me throw this dog a bone.” He hooked his fingers onto my panties, dragging them off before giving me the direct pressure of his finger against my clit like I so desperately wanted. He tried drawing different patterns; circles, lines, zig zags before he could judge which one would be best. The fire beside us was already hot but the blaze burning inside of me threatened to be brighter. Roman added one finger and then another, working up a rhythm that my body craved. I could feel the tightness in my stomach and the curling of my toes telling me that my orgasm was approaching, but it felt as though I had lost grasp of it and I wasn’t able to reach completion. I was annoyed but opened my eyes when I heard Roman shift to remove my skirt and his trousers.

“I want you to cum with me inside you,” he said in explanation to my bewildered face. A wave of affection flooded me. He drew up one of my knees letting it press against his abdomen. I could feel him, hard and hot against my opening. He looked to me and I swallowed, nodding my consent. He pushed in, and my head fell back giving way to a moan. He took a moment to let me adjust to him. My walls fluttered around him, making him mutter ‘fuck’ under his breath. Just as easily as before he found the right rhythm, and my knee untucked itself and wrapped around his back. He took the hint when my heel pressed into him and started to go harder than before. His name became the only word I could say, and even then I couldn’t always manage to say it in full. The feeling in my stomach returned.

“Roman…” I warned, listening to the sound of his thrusts become more erratic as he reached his climax too. I couldn’t be sure if we came at the same time, but I remained dazed and dazzled as my orgasm crashed upon me. My mind was totally, perfectly blank. Roman’s hot breath on me and the pounding of my heart were the only things keeping me from floating away.

I watched, listlessly as he fumbled to remove my restraints. He kissed my cheeks and the tip of my nose, making me giggle.

“You there, Ginger?” I butted my head against his chest, and he put his arm around me. He talked a little, making sure I was okay before retrieving us a glass of water and some Christmas cookies I had baked that morning. He let me lick the icing off of his fingers before I relaxed against him, savouring the bliss I felt.

“Hey,” he said softly, prompting me to look at him. The sweat had made his hair stick to his forehead and he looked uncharacteristically defenceless. He looked down and then back up at me, clearing his throat nervously as he did so.

“I…”

“Are you blushing?” I asked, watching in amusement as he flushed a pink that I knew wasn’t sex or fire-related.

“Shut up dog, I need to say this.” He rubbed the back of his neck and then exhaled audibly before speaking “I love you.” He crinkled his nose “God, that’s cringey to say out loud. How do they do it in movies? I-”

I cut him off with a kiss “I love you too Roman.” He opened his mouth and then closed it again, leaving his sarcastic comment to the side. I basked in the light of his love, feeling more than I could have ever hoped to.

#the price #chapter 10 #fanfic #fanfiction #fanfickittycat #my fanfic #updates #hemlock grove #hemlock grove fanfic #hemlock grove fanfiction #Roman Godfrey #roman godfrey x oc #roman godfrey fanfic #Bill Skarsgård #bill skarsgard fanfiction

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corpse--diem · 5 years ago

Text

Only If For A Night | Nic & Erin

@bountybossier

Two glasses sat on the empty metal body slab, the dark auburn of the whiskey beside it bouncing off the bad overhead lighting. Ready and waiting. Nic had made good on his word when he’d told their boss a heads up would be needed. Dale informed her there’d be a body on it’s way to the funeral home and their hunter-for-here would be delivering. The basement was eerily quiet now without the sounds of her father bellowing and growling in the background. Erin’s eyes moved to the large blood stain in the middle of the room where she hadn’t been able to completely remove the last trace of the night that had absolved her of that particular problem. Maybe it was time to get a rug down here. Realized how she looked just now, literally standing around, waiting for Nic to drop in with the delivery. Yikes. This was weird, wasn’t it? Hints of desperation were abundant in the air, here. The sharp knock on the door abruptly broke her from those thoughts. She pulled the basement door open, a knowing smirk on her lips. “I’m sorry. Can I help you?” Couldn’t help when her grin stretched wider, arms aptly crossing as she leaned against the door entrance.

Nicodemus had no earthly reason to feel nervous. He didn’t feel right in the slightest but the further he got away from Traveler, the further he got away from the ocean, he felt more like himself. Whatever that was. Heading to the funeral home, heading to see her, wasn’t the place to start having an existential crisis. Blame the night. That had been the mantra for the last handful of weeks or however long he had been fucked up as he was. He didn’t want to think about that and he chose not too as he checked himself in the rearview. The bruising from his nose was fading but still, dark fell under his eyes like spread bat wings. He frowned. Oh well. Like Erin said, bloody and battered was his thing. The hunter tried not to linger on it too much as he lugged another werewolf over his shoulder. Somewhere in the familiarity of the situation, his nerves settled. As the door open and he looked at her, a crooked smirk appeared. “Yeah, you might be able to, ma’am. Got somethin’ of a bountiful harvest an’ all.” The smell of old blood hit his nose and he couldn’t help but look away from Erin for a second, to the unmistakable stain of blood. “That’s new, huh?”

Erin didn’t miss bruised patches beneath his eyes. She’d seen him the night it had happened but it still threw her how healed up it looked already. Was that a hunter thing? Still made her inwardly flinch and not because she was squeamish. Lord knew she wasn’t. But she also couldn’t help the way her chest lurched when he smirked at her like that. “Bountiful harvest,” she nodded, a soft chuckle on her lips. “That’s good. There’s that quick wit I know and miss,” she said, pointing at him as she stepped back to finally let him in. Just because it was dark didn’t mean it was a good idea to have him hover outside with a body bag on his shoulder any longer than necessary. She locked the door, glancing back to where his eyes fell. “Uh, yeah,” she scoffed, shaking her head. “It took three witches, a moose, and a fuck ton of magic, but dear old dad is no longer with us.” That summed it up enough, right? She crossed the room, patting the metal table she had reserved just for this delivery. “You can toss this big guy right over here.”

His gaze lingered on her, lips loose in a thin smile. The scenario was so damn similar. Nightfall, corpse of a stranger on his shoulder, and Erin Nichols welcoming him into the underground. Nicodemus stepped past her and chuckled. “Yeah, you sure it ain’t just weirdo talk?” He eyed the bloody spot as he set the werewolf down on the table, the ring of metal sounding for just a moment. “I’ve been tryin’ to sleep. Maybe that’s helpin’. Can’t run off nothin’ like some people.” Namely but without being said, Alain. He couldn’t stop himself. “A fuckin’ what? A moose?” The magic and witches glanced off of him, but he had to huff a raspy laugh at how an animal like that got involved. “Really startin’ to build a rapport with moose, y’know? Kinda startin’ to make it seem like an art. Maybe that’s your, uh, gift.” He paused and wrung his hands. He had started so confidently. Surely, he could find it again. A small and ugly bud in him started to bloom. Tracking things was one of his specialities. It couldn’t possibly be the case, his logical brain thought, but then that less than logical bit crept out. Maybe his presence was cursed somehow. He shook his head and stepped off to the side. “One of ‘em.” He coughed into his shoulder and shook it out. “Anyhow. Better he’s gone now, yeah? Rest easy an’ all.”

“Weirdo talk works too,” Erin chuckled. Watched him set the body down, that easy smile she wore faltering a few hairs. Bottom line, there was still a job to do here. “Moose are my gift? I hope you know this moose surgence didn’t start being a thing until I met you, ” she latched onto his words, trying not to think too deeply about the body in front of her. Another werewolf. She didn’t know how that worked in real life compared to movies. Had this been a person before? Or just a supernatural wolf-like creature? Wasn’t quite sure she wanted an answer to that, actually. Not when she was about to do what she was about to do. Her eyes flickered up to Nic’s briefly, like she’d find some sort of answer there. All she could see was the exhaustion still lingering in his features. “All gone, yeah,. Nothing to worry about there anymore,” she said quickly, trying to refocus back on the task at hand. Scalpel and Playmate ready, she got to work. Quiet for a few moments as metal sliced into skin, brows furrowed in concentration. “How are you?” Her eyes searched for his again. Paused a beat. “Really?”

“You ain’t made me leave yet, so looks like weirdo is workin’ for me,” Nicodemus smiled. Better than monster or whatever other fucking word a bleeding heart would spit at him. “Hey now, I said one of ‘em. Maybe the moose were just waitin’ to hear from you. You’re welcome for that.” Because that’s what Moose Caboose had been about. Fuck, he needed to stop talking about the moose. It was easier to talk about that than seeing eyeballs, sleepwalking, and killing strangers. Fuck. Why was he so hung up on that? Would he have let Jeff just die if he hadn’t suddenly felt compelled…? No. It wasn’t the time or the place. He looked at Erin as she looked at him and took a breath to ground himself. Too much thinking like that wouldn’t do him any good. It would paralyze him. “That’s good. Glad you got it figured out,” he said with a nod, eyes on the body as she started to cut into it. When she posed her question, he looked up. Fixed his eyes on her. He was quiet, the humor from before pulled out of him with death-grip hands. In bruised yet healing eye sockets, his eyes felt darker. “I don’t know,” he rumbled out. “Feel like I’ve been fucked up since I got here. Nothin’ goes the way I think it will and that shouldn’t be a huge fuckin’ surprise, but…” In White Crest, he saved people. He hated that word but he knew what it was. Why did that bother him so goddamn much? “It, uh, it does. Every time. Like I can’t get...right..” He realized how much he said, which in the grand scheme wasn’t much, but it was more than anything to him. A dry, humorless laugh broke the quiet as he leaned back against the counter and started to fiddle with a metal handle “...I guess I ain’t great.”

“It works. Don’t worry about that,” Erin returned the smile. God, the fucking moose. It was as funny as it was depressing. And after the night she’d spent and what she’d seen done to that moose, she was alright without ever seeing another one again in her life. She ignored it with a soft roll of her eyes, eager to get past that and any further discussion of her father. Moose and zombies. Two things she never would have pictured so prominently in her life. She could practically feel the tone shift when the room fell silent. Then he spoke, no cursed coins urging those reluctant truths from him. So she stopped, pulled her hands from the still-warm corpse, and listened. Suddenly more nervous than she could recall being in front of him. “I get that. In a way, I mean,” she shrugged, returning his wry smile with one of her own. Gestured towards the body directly in front of her. Case in point. She started back to work when her hands grew antsy, though her focus remained as much as possible on him. “I learned a little late but this town has a way of screwing with you in ways I never could have dreamed about,” she scoffed. Eyes darted towards the empty glasses and the liquor bottle. “Whiskey helps though.” She tried to smile again, but the way he was looking bothered her more than she could properly grasp. “It’s not you,” she insisted, words firm and sure. “It’s this town and everything in it fucking with you. But it’s not you. You know that, right?”

When she pulled her hands out of the werewolf’s chest cavity, Nicodemus slowed his fiddling with the cabinet handle. Trigger finger tapping against the metal quietly as he listened to her speak. When she pointed at the very obvious body smack dab in the middle of an illicit organ harvesting between a mortician and a hunter, he couldn’t fight the wry smile that eased to life. “Yeah…” He sighed as he readjusted himself, looked at the whiskey and empty glasses. Whether he was sober or whether he wasn’t, the shit he dealt with didn’t have the mind to pack things up and leave him alone. It wouldn’t be life if it up and did that, did him a kindness. He looked at her as she worked. Just as tired as him. He didn’t know what happened, but considering the blood and the reluctance, he could only assume it wasn’t pretty. Assumed it would be the kind of thing to haunt the mind. She could do without being haunted. He crossed over to the whiskey and poured himself a glass, much less than what he usually would. He did the same for her but was forced to pause at her words. Wasn’t him? A low hum of uncertainty rose. He didn’t flinch when he saw that eye staring at him again when he blinked. “Ain’t sure about that, Erin,” he said, finger tapping against the bottle of whiskey as he set it down. “Peace of mind don’t come to people like me. Makes sense in a shitty way. All, uh, this.” He wasn’t hunting for pity. It was a statement of fact. That was the deal. They hunted, they died, and peace came in the form of a 2x6 foot coffin. Or just a hole in the dirt. He didn’t lament that. Of all things to make peace with, he had with that. He was certain of it. That part of the Bossier legacy he couldn’t outrun. “The town, yeah, I can buy that. But it's gotta react to somethin’.” He grabbed the glass of whiskey and threw it back. Didn’t go to refill it. He grabbed the glass he poured for her and handed it to her. “Givin’ it plenty to work with, I suppose.” He looked at the werewolf corpse as he found it hard to look at her. “How’s it lookin’ in there?”

Something in his voice could only lend to what he wasn’t saying. Erin hadn’t known him long, but Nic was a man of few words. When he spoke, you listened. Somewhere along the way she’d started reading between the lines. Had to, if she wanted to understand him better, or at all. This felt different, though. She felt different. And so did Nic. “You deserve better than feeling that way,” she reiterated, watching him knock back the whiskey, cup barely full. That was different too. She set the creature’s liver into the cooler, his words settling weirdly on her mind. All of this—the unsavory exchanges in the night. The secrets. The lies. Erin has only tasted this side of life for a fraction of the time Nic had. But it was part of her now. Always had been, even if she didn’t know it before a few months ago. “You’ve gotta keep believing that.” She had to keep believing that too. Lifted the glass to her lips, the blood on her gloves marring the clean surface. Like a reminder. Subtle. She paused, watching it for a second, before tossing it back just as quickly as he had. “You’re biased, you know.” She started, trying to find the words as warmth crept into her chest. “You've only got your point of view, making you think that any of this is your fault. And I know I haven’t known you long, but from what I’ve seen?” She tried to find his eyes as his avoided her own. “You deserve that. Peace. You’re a good guy. I know that. And I wouldn’t say that if I didn’t think so.” Fuck. Right. The corpse was growing colder by the second and she set her glass down. Found it harder and harder to concentrate on what she was doing. “It’s fine,” she nodded, getting back to it. Thought hard about how it had ended up on her table, and who’d brought them here. “Can you—you could stop, right?” She asked, genuinely unsure. “Step away from all of this, if you really wanted.”

The hunter forced himself to not respond when she called him a good guy. The same way his grandfather trained him to not give when wolf teeth sunk down. Nicodemus’s jaw started to tighten, the muscle there taut as teeth pressed tight together. Erin. Margot. Skylar. Blanche. Orion. All these people saying thank you, feeling grateful for the shit he did on a whim and couldn’t find an explanation for no matter how much he dug. Anger wearing the skin of self-loathing crawled up his ribs and sat heavy in his throat. He didn’t believe in much of anything. Was this Samson’s revenge? He hadn’t seen the old man in years but he kept tabs. Knew the fucker was still alive during all of this. As the thoughts pushed, collided, and broke apart against one another, he stared at the blood that clung to her clear glass. Whiskey and blood. That’s all he should have stayed as. His eyes traveled across her face. “Erin, you’re….You’re sayin’ all this shit elbow deep in a fuckin’ corpse that I brought for you,” he said after staying silent, his brows furrowed as he looked at her with dark eyes. “Same as before. It ain’t good and it ain’t evil. It’s just fucked. That’s all it is. It’s what I do and…” He pulled back, pressed his tongue against the inside of his cheek. His breath felt heavier yet light. Felt like it came quicker, but he wasn’t in a fight. He breathed in long and deep through his nose, shut his eyes for a moment. Her question prompted him to pour himself another glass, just as shallow as the one before it, and open his eyes again. She asked him a question that he had no obligation to answer. He had no obligation to any of them. And yet… “No,” he said, still not taking that drink. Whether it was his own conviction or the one beaten into him, he didn’t falter. Much. “I wouldn’t…” The empty fist at his side clenched. It was the town. The town pried open his iron mouth, his caged up chest, and forced him to speak. His voice rasped along the basement walls. “This is what I do. It’s what I know and I’m good at it. That’s the real shit part, y’know? I’m good at somethin’ and it’s this.” He couldn’t give that up and that realization, that slam against his head, finally had him drinking.

Every part of him was resisting. Erin could see it before he even spoke. Something fired up in her, somewhere deep in her gut and she pushed back. “Yeah, a corpse you brought to me. Because this is what I do too. But I can—I’m trying to remember this isn’t who I am,” she argued, frustration seeping through weary cracks. “What other choice do we have?” That muddy stain on the floor felt like it was screaming at her. Fucked. God, that description felt more appropriate the longer it simmered. She set the scalpel down and moved from around the table, abandoning any thoughts of finishing the extraction right now. “Okay, okay, fine. I get that,” she nodded. It wasn’t her place to dig or judge how he lived when there was a refrigerator of human organs just behind them. That wasn’t the point though—she didn’t care what he did. Jesus, wasn’t that obvious by now? “Good, bad, fucked—whatever.” She pointed a bloody glove at the stain, a surge of certainty taking over where precaution should have prevailed. “But that mess is what happens when you give up and give into it. I don’t want that and you sure as hell shouldn’t accept that either.”

Nicodemus started some where he stood. He didn't open his mouth to argue against her because she was right. The hand he clenched into a fist pulsed, slowly. He was the source of his own stress and yet he could try to will it away all the same. It felt wrong to find her beautiful in that moment and he hated himself for it, as confused and silently bewildered as he was looking at her. "I can get rid of your boss." His voice strained as he said it, trying to find that humor from before. They were in too deep for that and beneath it all, it was muffled. She came around close to him and he rooted himself to the floor, fighting every piece of him that had him wanting to go for the same door he had walked in. He had been so damn rootless before. Now he had too many. He swallowed his thoughts down as he looked at Erin, ferocious and refusing to accept the hand she had been dealt. And where he was resolute, she refused to accept that too. Whether to laugh or run, he didn't know. Both nervous responses. He did neither, rather braved the smallest step forward, spoke to her with a low, quiet voice. "What the hell happened, Erin?" His gaze moved from the blood spot to her eyes. "What are we doin'?"

He was starkly silent again. It was suffocating this time. Erin’s heart pounded while she waited for him to bolt, or yell. Demolish a glass with his bare hands again if she’d pushed down too hard on a nerve. Something. Those things she was prepared for. The way he was looking at her right now? Not that. Wasn’t at all prepared for the way it disarmed her so quickly either. “Don’t be an idiot,” she shook her head at his offer, letting out a long breath she hadn’t realized she’d been keeping in. What had happened? They’d gone from their usual banter to arguing to this in the blink of an eye. But she didn’t move. Didn't flinch or break eye contact, feeling like she was finally allowed to look at something she’d been wanting to for a long time now. “I don’t know,” she answered honestly, much of her previous gusto gone. But fuck, was she ever tired of thinking about it. Tired of holding back. Wasn’t in her nature to do so anyway, and it felt like that part of herself was fighting to tooth and nail to be released. And she did. Fuck it. She wanted this. She peeled the gloves off, dropping them to the ground, eyes falling to his lips. It was the only real sign she gave him before she took that last step forward. Hands brushing against prickly skin as they cupped his jaw, pulling his lips down to hers. Slowly at first, testing the waters, but sure. More sure than she’d been about anything a long time.

“Idiot, yeah. Dumbass sounds right too.” Nicodemus huffed. A capable dumbass. Or at least, he thought he was. Much rather talk about being a dumbass than any possible moral responsibility or self-respect he should have. But then she was looking at him and he wasn’t thinking about himself at all. His thoughts stayed confined to the space between them that grew smaller with each breath. Watching her take her gloves off probably shouldn’t have stirred something in him, but it did and his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. He froze as her hands touched his face and he waited for the bait and switch. He didn’t wait long. He didn’t need to. It never came. For all the death she touched, her hands felt warm against his skin. Her lips against his did too. Fuck, he was tired of being frigid. Maybe Erin was too. Maybe, for a minute or an hour, that could be enough. With a crash, the glass in his hand fell to the basement floor as one hand pressed lightly against the side of her neck, his thumb against her jawline. The other came to tentatively hover over the small of her back as he leaned into her. The hunter moved with no expectation, matched the pace she set. A small, quiet groan hovered in his chest as he pulled away for a breath to look at her. “Is this...Fuck, is this okay?”

Erin heard the glass shatter beside them but hardly flinched. Didn’t think about much of anything outside of how gentle his hands and his lips felt as he kissed her back, pulled her closer. Surprised her only a little with that, considering how hard he projected that rough outer shell of his. She was already breathing harder when he pulled away. Was this okay? It felt more than okay, she wanted to say, slipping one hand down his chest. Felt good. Really good. She pulled nervously at the fabric of his shirt while she nodded. “Yeah,” was the only word she could manage. Her other hand found the back of his neck to pull him forward again. Couldn’t stop herself when she kissed him again, this time with more confidence. Didn’t want to stop, if she was being honest. That was an overwhelming new feeling sitting tightly on her chest. Fuck. She reared her head back suddenly, biting her lip. “This is okay with you too, right?” She asked in turn, realizing she hadn’t even bothered to give him a chance to speak. Her nails gently scratched the back of his head through the short hair there. “We can—we can definitely stop. If you want,” she nodded, though her eyes remained on his lips until she had the better sense to meet his again.

His breath came out as a quiet, shuddered mess as they separated. Nicodemus could feel his heart hammering under her hand. Felt surprisingly vulnerable. She was close enough to slip a knife into his belly. But he wasn’t in a fight, this wasn’t survival. Maybe, for a minute, it was living. Whatever the fuck that even meant. The hand on her neck slipped further back, the pads of his fingers absently circling the skin at her nape. She pulled him in again and that time, he braved pressing her in closer to him. He forgot about the blood underneath them or the blood on the table. It wouldn’t be going anywhere. The longer they kissed, the more he lost any stoicism. He became fluid, became like a slow fire. He pulled away for a second to look at her, at the same time she did, and made no effort to move. In answer to her question, he found her mouth again with his and gently, barely nipped at her bottom lip. Then, he pulled back again. He closed his eyes. Took in a long, slightly shaky breath. In spite of it all, a nervous smirk appeared. “I don’t--” The anxiety gathered in his throat and he swallowed it. He lifted his hand from her back and lifted her chin slightly with it, tried to find her eyes with his own. “I don’t got any expectations, Erin,” he said, voice a low thunder rumble. “I’ll follow your lead, alright? Tell me to go and I will. Tell me to stay and I will. I’d...I’d want to. If you did.”

The pause that lingered before his answer weighed heavily on her and for a moment, Erin was confident she’d fucked up. That some invisible line had been crossed and that he’d pack up and run out of there. Right out of town, if he wanted. There was nothing keeping him here, no obligation--not even their mutual employer. Said so himself. But that wasn’t what she saw in his eyes. Just a gentle fear, one that washed over her, dousing those thoughts. Softened her resolve--what little was left of it, anyway. Her hand moved from his chest to cover his own, holding it against her cheek. “Then stay,” she answered, a warmer smile tugging at the corner of her lips despite the way her voice shook just slightly. “I want you to stay.” Final answer. She started to move in closer to him again when the glass crunched under her boot. Blinked, glanced around to where they were. The body cut open on the table next to them, the others in the wall of coolers opposite them. A deep, nervous laugh shook her. Jesus. She turned her head to kiss the palm of his hand, holding it as she let their hands drop down. But she didn’t let his go, tugging him towards her as she moved backwards to the stairs. “Just--not here, specifically?” She quirked a brow, trying to inject some lightness back into the moment.

Nicodemus had been so ready for her to give him the word, tell him to go, that when she did anything but, he was momentarily stunned stupid. Reduced to mere blinking before he got his shit together. Her words and hands said the exact same thing. If he looked for deception, he would come up empty. A boyish smile, one that lifted a few years off him, came to life. And at the crack of glass, broke into a snorted laugh as he came to the same realization she did. The tension, the nervousness, broke into a laugh and he dipped his head to laugh into the skin of her. For a night, it’d feel good to just laugh. He could allow himself that, if only for a moment. “Yeah,” he said, lips against her neck before he stood up again and looked at her. It was hard to stop smiling, even with the heat that overwhelmed any cold he might have felt. The chill lingered in him but he ignored it. “Better not to have an audience, huh?” He followed close behind her, fingers trailing up her palm and around her slim wrist then back again. “I’m followin’. Sure as shit ain’t goin’ anywhere now.”

#wickedswriting #only if for a night #chatzy #chatzy: nic #//these two dumbasses finally did it you guys #also #there's a chatzy coming to explain where erin's dad went #and the blood puddle #dw it's fine #timelines don't exist

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