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chockfullofsecrets · 3 years ago

Note

"If I'm not careful I'm gonna end up writing content for a character who literally never appears in 141 episodes"

I mean, you are more than welcome to. In fact, we will gratefully encourage this.

you encourage chock? you encourage chock like the author? oh! oh! tk fic for anon! tk fic for anon for Two Thousand Words!

(also, heads up that i am moving next week! have been working on Importance of Timing when i can, but the first chapter probably won't be here for another two weeks at least.)

---

Verin Thelyss, Essek knows, is a seasoned battle commander and strategist.

He’s also in possession of the instinct to tackle people when he’s excited, so Essek is well aware that it’s only those decades of training and experience that have his little brother pausing for the briefest instant as Caleb and Jester teleport him into the hold of the Nein Heroez before he launches himself at Essek in a dead run.

Veth and Caduceus are at their respective homes, Kingsley watching over the ship, but he is far from alone - Yasha and Fjord each have a supportive hand on his shoulder, a silent assurance from the tense minutes waiting for their friends to return from Bazzoxan. They swear in unison and scramble for their weapons as Verin screeches to a halt just shy of shunting Essek straight though the hull and yanks him into a rib-crushing hug.

He burrows into the junction of Essek’s neck and shoulder, made possible only by virtue of the activated floating spell that puts the coiffed swoop of his hair a full inch above Verin’s. “Thank the fucking Light, you’re not actually dead.”

“What the fuck, he’s like a swearing puppy,” Beau hisses. There’s a soft thwap as Fjord gently smacks her across the back of the head.

Essek is feeling out the edges of friendly intimacy, still, stumbling through every brush of fingers and shared look of exasperation, but even he does not need Jester’s frantic gesturing to prompt him to lift his arms and awkwardly wrap them around Verin’s shoulders.

It’s like wrapping a single thread of silk around one of Yasha’s biceps. Clearly he is not built for comforting.

Verin stiffens with a single sharp twitch of his ear against Essek’s collarbone . Essek’s thoughts flail wildly between an expectation of tears or a dagger to his ribs, but his brother just laughs, loud and hearty, and snuggles even further into his personal space. “I see someone’s finally taught you how to hug back - you should have written and told me, this is better news than any number of pages on den politics.”

Essek bristles. “Careful, or I will stop,” he huffs, somewhat more waspishly than he intends to.

Luckily, Verin has proven immune to his moods. “Oh, please don’t,” he insists, voice still crackling with glee. He grins, warm and wide enough that Essek can feel it against the side of his neck. “It just makes doing this that much easier.”

“Doing what,” Essek says reflexively, even as the tiny portion of his brain that he allows to remember his childhood starts to blare an alarm. “Verin-”

It’s far too late to realize that Verin’s hands have somehow been maliciously positioned just along the backs of his ribs.

Jester, standing with Caleb behind Verin, perks up in clear interest as the corners of his mouth start to twitch up. On second thought, Essek thinks he’d have preferred the dagger.

“Verin,” he hisses again, fighting back the anticipatory shiver crawling up his back. “Don’t - don’t you dare-”

It’s about then that Verin’s evil, evil fingers find the edges of his mantle’s arm slits and squeeze him even closer as they stretch to wriggle under his arms.

He snatches his arms back, but it’s too late - a dismayed giggle sneaks from his throat, then another, and then he’s beating helplessly at Verin’s shoulders as he dissolves into high, squeaking laughter.

Every single nerve between his armpits and his ribs squirms in unison - a bubbly, slippery sensation even more potent for how long it’s been since he last felt it. “No,” he shrieks. “I - ahaha! eeheee! - no tickling, no tickling, Verin-”

Jester looks thrilled - she’s bouncing on her toes, babbling something to Caleb that’s inaudible over the rush of his own laughter. Light, the Nein are going to tear him apart for this-

“Yes, tickling,” Verin protests, laughing right along with him. “All the tickling! You let me think you were dead! For months! I thought I was never going to get to watch my poor brother giggle himself to pieces ever again!”

He’s not, because Essek is going to kill him. “That - nahaha, hff, ahaaa! - that was - ha - it’s been decades - stop, stop, there’s people!”

“Yeah, people,” Beau says, loud and smug and far too close behind him. “Hey - Verin, was it? - does hotboi here have a worst spot?”

Oh no. Oh no. Essek squeezes his eyes shut in a desperate attempt to focus and does the only thing he can while laughing like an idiot.

With a shaky flick of his wrist, his floating dispels. Verin yelps in surprise as gravity takes Essek straight out of his grip.

The instant his boots hit the deck, Essek twists the rest of the way out of his grip and bolts.

There’s nowhere to go, really - the Nein have a room full of Counterspells, and Verin can run faster than he can, and he’s already tumbling halfway back into laughter in giddy anticipation of being caught. Still, it’s a surprise when he stumbles into a brick wall of leather and biceps that resolves itself into Yasha as she hoists him back into the air.

“Oh, where do you think you’re going?” She sounds admirably innocent given the soft, teasing smile she gives him.

“Noooo,” Essek giggles. Heat gathers in his cheeks as he tries to make himself stop - it doesn’t make sense, he’s not even being tickled anymore, but even the potential for it flutters light and fizzy at the bottom of his lungs. “I - I’m not ticklish anymore, I’m not-”

The Nein and Verin cluster around the two of them, bubbling with various levels of amusement. “Really?” Beau drawls. “It’s cute that you think denying it has a single fucking chance of working.”

The sarcasm helps him center himself, if only a little - he buries his face in Yasha’s arm and sucks in a deep breath that doesn’t do nearly enough to get rid of his blush.

He straightens as best he can while being bear hugged by a barbarian. “I am denying nothing,” he says carefully. Jester is still bouncing next to Beau, fingertips already twitching where they’re curled sweetly on her cheeks around a mischievous beaming smile, and Essek has to look away before the nervous snickers still wobbling on the back of his tongue can worm their way free. “I am well aware that Verin is - incorrigible-”

He hisses the last word in his brother’s direction - again, harsher than he intends, but he is so unused to being soft around him - and fails to contain a shy smile as Verin sticks his tongue out in retaliation.

Jester’s tail waves its way into the edge of his peripheral vision. He jumps and looks over at Fjord instead. “-but I, ah, I would ask for more respect from the rest of you-”

“You really shouldn’t,” Fjord says, grinning boyishly back at him. “I mean, you know us.”

And then, to Fjord’s right - “Essek?”

He’s been avoiding looking at Caleb. It is foolish, perhaps, to think that after all of the incredibly stupid things he knows Essek has done he will decide to judge him for this, but he cannot help the way his shoulders stiffen as he twists a little further to meet the gaze of the last link in their semicircle. “Yes?”

Caleb looks - focused, in an offhanded way, like he’s intent on something happening just slightly out of their current reality. Stunned might be a better word for it. He blinks for a moment before focusing those keen blue eyes somewhere near Essek’s eyebrows. “Ah - did you know that when you laugh, your ears -” He puts his hands up to his own ears and flaps them a little.

Drow do not run particularly warm, but that only makes it easier for Essek to feel the heat absolutely flood back into his face. “I-” he stammers. Nearly a century of politics is nowhere near enough to help him keep a straight face. “I - ah - eeh!-”

Caleb is close enough to reach out and run a questing fingertip over Essek’s left ear - it flicks wildly, trying to dislodge the unexpected tickle, but a surprised squeak still slips out.

There’s a moment of silence before Verin starts to snicker. “Oh, I like your friends,” he says merrily, beaming. “Go on, Light knows he doesn’t let himself laugh enough otherwise.”

“Don’t,” Essek gets out hastily, but Caleb is already reaching out for another go and Yasha’s grip is firm enough that all he can do is squeak again. “Wait - hm, hnn!”

Beau sidles up to Yasha’s side and gives him a self satisfied leer as she reaches out across their little group to pluck the feather from Fjord’s tricorn. “You got him, babe?”

“I do,” Yasha confirms and lets out a little squeak of her own as Beau reaches around her, no doubt squeezing something entirely inappropriate with company present.

“Hot,” Beau smirks, and reaches to flutter the feather over Essek’s right ear. “Aw, does that tickle? Thought you said you weren’t ticklish, man.”

Essek maintains some facsimile of composure for all of two seconds before his face crumples “Nnn - hehehe - eheehe - oh!”

His lungs are surely going to burst, with the way they’re shivering out desperate giggles as he shakes his head frantically between Caleb’s fingers and the teasing feather. He can’t move his arms, so he kicks his legs instead. “Please,” he begs, nearly incomprehensible even to his own ears. “Ah - aha, heeheehee! - tickles-”

Verin leans down and scoops his ankles up with one ridiculously sculpted arm. “Essek, you’re going to put a hole in someone with those boots.”

He looks up, raising his eyebrows teasingly, and Essek’s stomach drops like he’s cast something on it. “Here, I’ll fix that.”

Essek’s eyes, narrowed with laughter, shoot wide open. He doesn’t remember Verin being this evil - but then again, his brother’s never been egged on by five other people determined to render reports of his death more realistic.

“Verin, Verin, no-” he tries, but he’s giggling so hard that he can’t even get the words out. He twists as far away from Caleb and Beau as he can, flailing frantically, but Verin’s grip holds firm.

He pouts dramatically. “What? Is it my fault that my tiny, ticklish wizard brother insists on wearing metal-tipped boots that endanger everyone?”

Essek opens his mouth to reply and promptly dissolves into another frantic peal of laughter as Beau gets bored of his ears and shoves her feather in Caleb’s direction before jabbing a finger between his trapped arm and his chest to get at his armpit. “Your - shihihit, shit, ahahaaa, not there! - your arcanist brother is going to kill you just as soon as I can- hahaha!”

Verin just laughs, unlacing one of his boots and starting to slide it off. “Is that your attempt to convince me not to tickle your feet?”

Jester, practically vibrating, emits a sound that perhaps only weasels can hear. “Oh, that’s so cute! Can I have one of them?”

“One of his feet? Sure.” Verin hands over an ankle, grinning down at Jester. “You, I think you’re my favorite.”

As Essek gasps and struggles and falls further and further into a formless mirth that makes him feel so light he can hardly bear it, there’s a different sensation at his ear. A hazy portion of his brain identifies it as the rough bristle of chin scruff and an amused huff of breath.

“You don’t really want them to stop, do you,” Caleb murmurs. “I will help you, if you do.”

It’s quite unfair, Essek feels, to try and make him explain himself while he’s strung out and dizzy with laughter. He tries anyway, for a syllable or two, but Verin digs in between two of his toes and he ends up just tipping his cheek against Caleb’s and shaking, laughing too hard to make a single sound.

“Alright, then,” Caleb says. “In that case-”

He brandishes the feather with a flourish more suited to somatic casting, swooping it down the length of Essek’s nose before directing it back to his ear.

“Tickle, tickle...”

#asks #tickling #critical role #essek thelyss #verin thelyss #caleb widogast #chocfic

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tokoyamisstuff · 3 years ago

Text

Dark Side Of The Moon Ch. 2 - Dark! Loki x Reader

Chapter 2: “On The Run”

Chapter Summary: Even though you can’t help feeling drawn to the lunatic that looks like your deceased lover, you try to surpress your feelings and flee to find your friends.

Warnings: Loki is fucking crazy, Violence, Torture, Jotun! Loki, Mentions of Death, Abuse, Unhealthy Relationship, Mentions of Rape

Words: 3360

[Story Masterlist]

Masterlist to my other works right ->Here<-

“And the shark, it has tears,

And they run down its face.

But the shark lives in the water -

So the teardrops one can’t see.”

- Rammstein - Haifisch

Taglist: @winterglcw @commonintrest @emmojoy @satansbra @just-someone-who-likes-to-write

“She died through my hands.”

That sentence replayed over and over in your head, forming a continuous loop as you silently formed those words with your own lips.

“It’s not him!” you called out to yourself, since your reason had seemingly disappeared ever since you first saw the person that was a perfect copy of the man you once loved.

You were rolling around on the bare floor, shivering as you softly punched your head to not get lost in thought again. The emperor didn’t even have the basic decency to give you any clothes back, only having the Citauri throw you into an old dungeon to keep you prisoner - or whatever he’d plan to do with you.

That man was so different of your Loki.

And the timeline both of you were currently in had exceeded your worst expectations, making you wonder if fate just wanted to torment you.

In this universe, Thanos never even got so far as to collect all of the Infinity Stones. Loki Laufeyson had won the battle of New York and took over this world, then somehow double-crossed and killed the Titan. So right now, he possessed the power of the Tesseract, as well as the Cascet of Ancient Winters. For what reason he kept that Jotun relic was unknown, probably out of nostalgic sentiment you assumed.

Afterwards, the God of Mischief had killed his brother Thor in bad blood, as well as torturing Natasha - the exact way he threatened her back in your world, when he was in his cell. Clint was still his servant, as it seemed. You had seen him when they took you to his cell.

He couldn’t get rid of all the Avengers, however - even though their current location was unknown. They were in hiding for many years now, probably trying to get their hands on the other Infinity Stones.

Also noticeable was the fact that this universe had neither Hela, nor Captain Marvel - so one good and one bad thing to compensate for each other. Not that they’d be a match for Loki in his current form anyway...

And there was no Dr. Strange on this version of Earth, your last bit hope to escape disappearing as you learned about this fact.

That much was all you had learned by now, mainly through tricking and manipulating some of your guards into giving you information.

All in all, you only knew for sure was that this world’s Loki was a terribly trong, murderous sociopath, intoxicated by power and loneliness.

And you had become the focus of the little emotion left in him.

It was hard trying to surpress all the voices and memory submerging in your mind. So there was nothing left for you except for rolling up into a ball, lying on the cold floor as you prepared to be washed over with sadness and guilt once again.

_____

“Would you help me recieve the greatest honor by becoming mine and mine only, Lady Y/N?”

How could you ever forget this moment?

Back on the Asgardian refugee ship, your Loki had asked you that very question, now popping up in your mind once again.

Every detail was still as bright as daylight, preserved deep into your heart.

You clearly remembered the small, green box he had summoned out of thin air, presenting you a plain but still incredibly beautiful ring. The golden piece of jewlery formed a snake eating itself - a symbol of infinity and wholeness.

It was just his way of being thoughtful.

“I-I prepared this a while go, to be precize...but I never thought of being worthy” he had stammered and you found yourself speechless, admiring that very scene playing in front of your eyes. “A-Anyway, after all that happened, I realized that all moments I spent happy, were when I was with you. I don’t want to lose you again, Y/N! And I feared, well...that it might be too late to ask someday.”

It was most unjust that this most blissful moment would be interrupted by a great rumbling shaking through the whole spaceship - and even before Thor would crash Loki’s proposal, both of you were aware just what kind of danger you would have to face soon:

Thanos.

Your numbers had already been decimated by Ragnarok, all that’s left being some civilian refugees, injured and traumatized. The only ones capable of fighting left were Loki, Thor, Heimdall, you and the Hulk.

Yet all of your struggles were to no avail, only able to watch and scream and bag at the Titan, so he’d at least spare those innocent lives as he mercilessly slaughtered woman and children alike.

“Fucking monster!” Pulling out a gun, your mind went completely blank as you gave it some last, desperate attempt to save or avenge just anyone.

No bullet would even come close enough to pierce his skin, as Ebony Maw would deflect them to hit yourself and people close to you. “I’m not the only one you should see responsible for this outcome” Thanos scoffed.

“What do you mea-” Your voice got swallowed by a pained groan as you saw Loki, kneeling in front of Thanos and revealing the one thing he was after:

The Tesseract.

“You......took it?!?” The only thing managing to escape your throat was a high-pitched yell as Loki’s face contorted in disappointment and regret - just now realizing that he had put you all in danger.

They would’ve never went after you if it wasn’t for him. He had doomed his race, failed you and what was left of his family.

“How could you put us all in danger?! I thought you had changed! You swore it with your life, Loki! That you loved me more than you desired power!”

No answer.

Instead, the god would prepare one of his speeches, directing words of undying fidelity at Thanos and his arms. And even though it was meant to be lies, a play to make the threat feel save, every single word hit your heart like knives.

“How could I ever marry someone like you?!” feeling as if Loki most recent, selfish act was suffocating you, you could only whisper - yet he understood very clearly, the facade dropping in an instant. “I-I hate you...traitor...”

If only you knew that those would be the last words you’d ever direct at him...

Loki materializes a dagger, desperately trying to make up for his biggest mistake yet, and at least save you, the light of his cursed existence, and the only thing he had ever done in his life full of wrongs.

But Thanos looked right through the charade from the very beginning, using the stones to trap Loki in their hold - and then, grabbing the god’s throat.

“You have what you want, Thanos!” Thor tried to bargain, “There’s even less than half of my race left. Please, just let us go!”

“Oh, I will” he spoke stony, then shifting his attention to the god in his hands. “But first, I’ll do you a favor and erase that disgraceful pest all of you were too weak to take care of.”

As he was struggling for air, gasping uncontrollably as he tried to free his neck from the Giant, Loki’s glare wandered to you - and when your eyes met, both of your hearts skipped a beat.

He smiled. In the face of death, the last thing he wanted you to remember was the good things after all.

And seeing the ring on your finger, how couldn’t he? Loki knew you were about to say yes - and knowing this was more than enough for someone like him.

After all, the God of Mischief was used to happiness being taken away from him as soon as he thought it to be okay to open up to someone.

But you were safe. That’s all that counted for him!

It was like his eyes were telling you “It’s gonna be alright. I’m sorry, Y/N...I love you.”

You don’t remember much after that, having a mental breakdown as you had to watch the love of your life perish - and forever thinking about how you had turned him down just seconds before.

A part of you had died with him back then.

_____

The creaking sound of the cell’s door made you jump from your dream - but the person which entered was one you had never seen before.

A monster.

It’s silhouette very much resembled Loki, yet his skin was painted in a dark shade of blue, with thin linings carved across his whole body. He had fangs and even horns coming out of his temple to add at that.

The beast’s eyes were shining in a threatening red, glistering contrastful in the dark hallway. But the worst were those black irises, absent of any form of compassion - there seemed to be only rage, confusion and hate.

“Fuck!” you screamed, terrified and fearing for your life. Shuffling until your back hit the wall of a corner of the room, you defendingly put your arms in front of yourself. “Go away! Don’t to-ouch me!”

Loki cleared his voice as he put the Casket away, not making any efforts to revert his outer appearance back to ‘normal’. He had admired it on his way to your cell, like he’d do many times a day when he was reminiscing about the day he learned about his heritage...

...and how he had killed Odin, his adoptive father, with that very relic, afterwards clearing the universe of that despiseful race of the Jotunn - making him the last of his kind.

“Oh my” a dark voice finally declared, “Seems like ‘your’ Loki never dared to show you his true form. Pathetic.”

No, that wasn’t completely true. Your lover had at least told you back then. But when did you ever have the time to talk things over and heal, being dragged from one fight to another?!

The Jotunn felt great joy as he towered over you, gleefully watching your naked body cowering to his knees, covered in goosebumps and shaking heavily. Your breath was clearly visible while you tried to cover your shame as best as you could, wary glare never leaving the abomination that was just lurking right in front of you.

“Wha- OUCH!” you hissed as the Frost Giant took ahold of your wrist, monitoring the pain spreading across your face as his touch would frostburn any skin he was touching with ease.

Loki grinned menacingly as he let go off of you, admiring his handywork as the first layer of your skin had already died, crumbling away to reveal your pink flesh.

“Oh, how I missed that” he explained, much to your surprise ripping a piece of his own clothing apart to cover the wound with it. “Your kind is so easily broken. It’s always fascinating to watch.”

“Just kill me already, you freak!”

Well, Loki had in fact spent hours after hours thinking about how to handle you, and yet he couldn’t decide. Obviously he would’ve killed you right away if it was otherwise, but he still had a soft spot for you somewhere deep in his heart, after all.

And it upset him more than he’d ever admit. So he tried to assert his dominance, to ease the feeling of weakness and loss of control.

“I’m only doing you a favor, woman.” The god would touch your cheek, making you flinch away - but this time, it wouldn’t hurt. Never would he dare to scar this most beautiful face!

“The man you loved was just the same as me, yet it seemed he wasn’t completely honest with you. What you are seeing right now is the form of a Frost Giant...the monstrosity you chose to love.”

“L-Loki…”

It was no surprise that he saw tears filling the rim of your eyes - yet out of a whim, you pulled your arms around his neck, tears wetting his robe. He gasped, unable to act in any way as he stiffened in the pose.

That was by far not the reaction he had been expecting - and he surprised you as well. You had thought him to instantly shove you away, beat you agaib or even bite - but he just kneeled there, not daring to make a move.

"Why?” Now his voice was much softer, pained even. “I’m a monster. I hurt you. So why?”

“I’m so sorry” you whimpered, words being interrupted by heavy sobbing. “I try to fight it, I really do. But I just can’t, I-I”

“Aren’t you afraid?”

“How could I be? It’s you, Loki...no matter what you look like.” Eventually, you’d face him again, wiping the tears out of your face when for another moment, you made yourself forget that this was a completely different person. “I was just surprised, that’s all. Letting me see this form out of nowhere...”

“Y/N, I’m not the same as him” he retorted, knowing very well what it’s like to lose oneself in daydreams and illusions to ease the pain of loss. His sight wandered around the room instead of your face, stating “I did horrendous things, dear. Tormented and killed countless. It’s unforgiveable.”

“So did he” you stated, even though you knew those two Loki’s couldn’t be compared. “And you should already know: I feel dead inside, ever since he died.”

“You really loved him, didn’t you?” When you nodded confidently, Loki sighed ashamed, reluctantly touching your wrist again. A warm magic would flow through you, healing the wound in no time. “I wish she had felt the same for me...”

For a while, both of you were plainly sitting in uncomfortable silence, with Loki even lending you his cloak to warm yourself up.

“It’s not him” you told yourself once again. “It’s not him. It’s not him. IT’S NOT HIM!!! That man is dangerous and instable. He can’t be trusted!”

And then, finally, you dared asking, cutting through the thick air:

“What exactly happened to me, in this world?”

Loki’s face contorted in agony, rubbing his face as if in deep pain. “Is this really necessary? I already told you. She died because of me.”

“More details would be nice” you retorted bluntly, not really caring if he was to have a violent outburst again. Curiosity got the better of you at that moment.

The emperor’s voice was low and husky, and just now you realized how damn tired he looked - with dark rings under his eyes, and more pale than you had ever remembered him.

The weight of his sins sure had taken a stroll on that sensitive man.

"I saw the ring” he uttered deeply affected, “That’s something I could only dream of. Thinking about it, I think she never really loved me in the first place. Or maybe she just grew tired of my lies. Understandable, I have to admit...”

“Yes, it was quite the opposite, even” he continued after a long, strained breath of his. “She hated me. Joined the Avengers and tried to kill me, several times. Only years later I learned about the truth: Already far in the past, back on Asgard, she betrayed me. After I fell off the Bifrost, she thought myself dead - and consoled herself by bedding my brother. I had to kill him, I-I-I just had to!”

Loki’s hands were shaking so frantically you could feel it from over there, mad eyes darting over your physique to take in your reaction. “After they finally lost, I took her prisoner. Seven months of trying to make her mine, no matter the methods. Mind-controlling her would not be satisfying. So I tortured her, played games with her sanity, and- I’d rather not speak about how else I violated her.”

“You, wha-” Now you were the one shivering in horrid anticipation, “You raped me...?”

No answer. Instead he just finished this disastrous story.

“One day, I went to her cell like I always did. I hoped once her mind was broken she’d stop struggling to be mine. But she never did. You Y/N’s are quite the fighters, as it seems.”

“Wha- wwhat happened to me...I mean, ‘her’?”

A loud whine escaped his vocal cords as he hit the wall right next to your face, making you suck in a pained breath.

“She used her chains to hang herself. There was nothing I could do. Ever since then I knew I’m cursed to inflict pain on anything I hold dear.”

"D-Don’t give me that self-pitying bullshit” you wanted to shout at his face - but the cramping in your heart as well as the hyperventillation made talking impossible.

How could one do something like that to a person they claimed to love?!

“Go” you whimpered, already shuffling away from him and he could hear anguish and fear drop out of every vocal, and he realized you were having a panic attack. “Please!”

Loki closed his eyes, letting out one last, deep sigh. He knew he owed you that much.

“Very well.”

That whole night, you spent crying and screaming to your hearts avail, unable to process your current situation and newfound knowledge.

So that would be your life from now on? Being hurt mentally and physically, frostburnt and hurt and violated against your will - all while looking at a face that remembered you of happier days?

Never!

Things were just like that evil Loki said: You are a fighter!

And if you couldn’t help that crazy man, you would at least help yourself! The Avengers are still out there, somewhere. You needed to escape and help them!

How could you have been so blind all those years?

Loki - your Loki - would have never wanted to you give up. He’d want you to survive and live your life to it’s fullest, trying to make the best out of everything you’ve got.

Just like he always did. That much you had learned from him.

“I’m sorry, Loki. If I die, I can’t even remember you...I love you…”

Breaking out succeeded faster than you could ever think it would take - because when you’d finally get out of your fetal courl and wandered across the cell, you realized Loki didn’t properly close the heavy steel door back when he rushed away from you.

“It’s not him. There’s no helping that man. I have to find my friends, I-”

Still shocked and scared and traumatized, you didn’t even realize that someone was watching you, not even questioning that the hallways were oddly empty.

You sneaked out of an open window, bare feet feeling the morning dew as you shook away Lokis cloak and ran as fast as your feet could carry you.

There was it - the fence.

No one could tell you what kind of world would await you outside of that property as you swiftly avoided some guards, rushing through the all so beautiful garden.

But as soon as you reached out to climb the railing, you felt someone balling a fist in your hair, harshly holding you back and causing you to stumble and fall.

“I thought you to be different…” an all too familiar voice grumbled. Loki didn’t even want to hear any apology or excuse, kicking your guts so heavily that you had to throw up, cramping on the ground.

“Don’t you dare to run away ever again!” he now yelled furiously, "She tried it too...so damn.many.times…!”

But before you could even respond, he suddenly began to cry uncontrollably. “I thought you would stay. Do you think I like to do this?!”

His voice was laced with grief and regret, yet he kept on forming countless bruises on your body. “Why can’t you fucking love me, hel?!”

You didn’t know how long his violent crying fit lasted, with him weeping as he let off some steam on your helpless self.

There was no trace of the hurt, regretful man left you talked to in your cell earlier. After being finished, having reclaimed a fraction of composure, Loki pressed your face in between his hands, ripping on your mangled body to face him.

“Fate gifted me another chance to possess you, Y/N. And I will form you into a magnificent pet, I promise.”

_______

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Feedback is always appreciated!

#Loki #Loki x Reader #Loki x You #Loki x Y/N #Loki Laufeyson #Loki Odinson #Loki Friggason #God of Mischief #Loki / Reader #Loki / You #Marvel #Disney #Asgard #Midgard #Writing #Fanfiction #Self Insert #tw abuse #tw violence

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lin-nin · 4 years ago

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Tribulation & Tenderness - Chapter 11

Ship: Main Technoblade x Reader, some Dream x Reader

Plot: You're a princess in a Kingdom suffering a years long famine. In a desperate attempt to help your people, you accept one simple offer: Marriage to the crown prince of a neighboring kingdom. Anything to help your people survive. Surely it can't be too bad, can it?

Chapter List: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 Disclaimer: Cross-posted on Wattpad (discontinued) and Ao3. This is based off of everyone's CHARACTERS. I do not write fanfic based off the actual people.

Chapter 11: All’s Fair In Love And War

< | Previous Chapter

You excitedly trailed after Techno as he led you towards the courtyard, grin splitting your face. He looked back at you and chuckled, head shaking. You probably seemed like a whole different person, but you were full of a childlike giddiness you didn’t normally carry. The worn out area was a little disturbed from Wilbur and Tommy earlier, but you didn’t pay it much mind. You were just excited to have the chance to learn to fight.

“How much combat knowledge do you have, exactly?” Techno asked as he came to stand on the flattened grass. He unbuckled the belt holding his sword, tossing it towards the side. Out of the way, since there was no way it would be used now of all times.

“Absolutely none, I have my instincts,” You mumbled sheepishly, offering a grin as you came to stand across from him.

“Alright, put your dagger with my sword. We’re gonna focus on hand-to-hand first.” He pushed up the sleeves of his shirt, watching you take the dagger away from your waist. You sat it atop his sword, fidgeting nervously. You were vastly inexperienced, especially when compared to Techno and you knew that. This was going to be a mess.

“Where do we start?” You looked to him for guidance, feeling lost as you stood across from him. He watched you for a few moments, before motioning you towards him.

“Come at me.” His voice was flat, and he didn’t even seem to be taking it seriously. Then again, you weren’t much of a threat. Taking it too seriously might end up hurting.

“What?” You stammered, tilting your head. You eyed him up, trying to find something to go on. It wasn’t exactly easy.

“Try and hit me. I’ll correct you as we go.” Just like that? Just hit him? You chewed your lip, eyebrow furrowing as you tried to figure out what the best approach would be. You didn’t know how to do this. This was going to be so embarrassing. You pushed the stress aside. You wouldn’t learn if you didn’t try. Your gaze focused on his side, and you darted forward. You raised a hand to hit his side, only for him to entirely sidestep you and smack your hand away.

“Don’t be so obvious,” He stated, an eyebrow raising. You gave a frustrated huff, turning on your heel to swing on him again. He dodged once more backing away from you. He didn’t smack your hand away this time, prompting you to keep pushing forward. You swung on him a few more times, finally prompting him to widen his stance. He began countering the swings easily, eyes flicking over you rapidly.

“Better. Fast is good,” he began. He caught one of your hands, simultaneously kicking your feet out from under you. The wind was knocked out of you as your back collided with the ground, a groan shortly following. That was definitely going to hurt in a few hours time. “Speed is nothing without a proper stance and posture.”

He leaned down over you, offering a hand and pulling you up to your feet. You grunted with the effort, stumbling ever so slightly. “You never said we could use our feet,” You grumbled, shaking your head.

“All’s fair in love and war,” he mused, putting his foot between your own. “Come on, fix your stance.” He positioned your feet as needed, before coming around you. “Center your weight, and stay grounded. Don’t put all of your weight to your feet, though. It’ll only slow you down and make you an easy target.” As he spoke he positioned your shoulders slightly, making sure everything was proper in your stance.

“You’re smaller than most people you’d spar with here, so use your size to your advantage.” He rounded back to the front of you, staring at you for a few moments. He gave an approving hum, and no sooner than that were you launching yourself at him. You took the words to heart, trying to keep yourself light on your feet. Fighting was much harder than you had originally anticipated.

You did manage to land a few actual hits on him, though it was nothing compared to the number of times he countered you. It was only a matter of time before he was grounding you again, making you groan once again. That was going to do more than hurt in the morning. You were going to be so sore, but you had a feeling you would need to get used to it. Techno didn’t strike you as the type to have a day off when teaching something like this.

“Don’t fall into a routine, it makes you predictable and easy to down. You need to be spontaneous,” He was lecturing you again, only to lean down and offer his hand to you once more. You warily eyed the hand, reaching up to grab it. However, instead of letting him pull you up, you tugged down. You used your leg to kick at his feet, grinning successfully as it knocked him off balance. He lurched forward, falling onto you and only managing to barely catch himself on his forearm.

“Spontaneous enough for you?” You taunted, giving him a shit eating grin. He blinked down at you, as if processing what had just happened. At the same time, it really seemed to click what you had just done as well. Heat rushed to your face, your stomach flipping slightly. His ponytail was swung over his shoulder, hanging beside your face. The necklaces he wore brushed against your chest, the chains on his glasses mere centimeters from your face. You were close. Too close. He furrowed his brows, eyes darting nervously to the side. The faintest shade of pink dusted the apples of his cheeks as he moved, pushing himself off the ground and away from you.

“Perhaps a bit too spontaneous,” He murmured, hesitantly offering his hand again. You took it, letting him pull you up to your feet again.

“All’s fair in love and war?” You managed, offering him a feeble smile. He huffed out laughter, shaking his head and taking up his stance again.

“So it seems. Come on, we’re not finished.” You were quick to fall back into the pattern of striking at him, taking care to not get too into a routine. You tried to not think too hard, attempting to rely on instinct. You did note he was more wary in his movements, seeming to hit harder and not give you a chance to wind up in a compromising position again. You didn’t mind, though. It was almost embarrassing to think about, you weren’t too sure you could handle another moment like that.

----

Dream Focal Point

The commons of the capital weren’t entirely unknown to Dream. He had spent quite a fair amount of time here, even if he stood out. He was set out for one place, a house down a beaten path, away from the rest. He didn’t bother knocking on the worn door, simply pushing it open. It creaked to signal his arrival, thumping shut behind him. The house was small, dimly lit. A rickety table was off to the side, and behind it was a figure running a stone over a sword. The figure glanced up at Dream’s arrival, raising a single black eyebrow.

“I have a job for you,” He stated, pulling out a bag. He tossed it onto the table, where it landed heavily. A gloved hand shot out, pulling on the strings to look inside. The figure whistled, looking back towards Dream.

“You’ve never paid this much before, Dream. Let alone up front. What sort of suicide job do you have me on?” They leaned back in the seat, light from the dusty window illuminating his face. Stubble lined his jaw, a white strip of cloth seared at the ends was tied around his forehead, black bangs spilling over it. Brown eyes were full of curiosity, no doubt intrigued by the amount of money being presented to him.

“I want you to come with me to the wedding, as a guard,” Dream started slowly, gauging the reaction.

“The wedding? George’s little sister’s wedding? The love of your life’s wedding?” He clarified, making Dream grimace. The dagger hit the table, the man clearly growing more interested.

“Yes, Sapnap. That exact wedding.” Dream increasingly grew frustrated, far from fond of the words. He hated when things were put so bluntly, but his friend never cared to dance around that fact.

“As a guard? Are you worried they’re going to hurt you?”

“No, it’s just a disguise. I need you to get her back to me, no matter the cost. She said she’d come back if anything happened.”

“Even if it means hurting her or putting her in danger?”

“I would prefer she didn’t get hurt, but if she has to be, she has to be. I need her back.”

“You claim to love her but you’d just let me hurt her to get her back. You’re fucking crazy, man,” Sapnap laughed humorlessly, head shaking.

“All’s fair in love and war, Sapnap. Are you in or not?” Dream placed his hands on the table, fully prepared to take the gold back. He could do this on his own, but it would be so much easier if he had help from someone who was unrecognizable.

Sapnap thumbed through the coins in the back, sighing and shaking his head. “I’m in, but you’re a crazy son of a bitch, you know that? This better be fucking worth it.” He snatched the bag closer to him, and Dream only grinned.

“If you’re successful, I’ll pay you more,” Dream promised, green eye sparkling with an almost sadistic joy. “Just make sure your parents don’t find out.” With the words, he turned on his heel. He walked out of the house, a smug grin on his face. Finally, maybe he could get what he wanted.

Next Chapter | >

#dream team #dream smp #technoblade #technoblade x reader #dream x reader #dreamwastaken #reader insert #kingdom au #sleepy bois inc #sleepy bois family #t&t

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bastillewolf · 4 years ago

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Corpse's Bride (I)

Pairing: Corpse Husband / Reader

Summary: When you end up in an unfortunate arranged marriage to salvage what is left of your parents’ wealth, it seems fate has other ideas in store for you; or perhaps it was the Devil who decided to bring back the dead?

Notes: Yea, I don’t know why I wrote this either, and no idea where this series is gonna go. If you have any suggestions, please send them. But I wanted to write something for Christmas since I haven’t posted in a while. I hope you all have safe and happy holidays! Let’s just get 2020 over with, please.

Tag list currently closed.

Chapter I - The wedding

Somewhere through the clouds of smoke erupting from the city, just beyond the hills, lies a small town called Gloomington. Where the streets are always swept and yet seem never clean, where birds fly high through the sky yet never manage to reach the clouds, and where dreams are crushed underneath the wheels of creaking carriages and half-empty fish barrels. It might seem like the most boring old town, with its inhabitants that look like they’re either on the brink of death or very much willing to be, but it wasn’t to you. No, to you life appeared much more interesting, though not by your own volition. You did not turn a blind eye to the grey streets or creaking bones or listening ears, as they had always been the same to you, but the troubles you had yet to bear were much too big to focus on anything else.

Your parents had deemed that on your twenty-first birthday, you were finally fit for marriage. It was the age that they had gotten married, and by tradition, through their parents as well. Why they had decided to force this upon you as well, you did not know, for as long as you could remember you’d only ever thought of your parents to be miserable together. Their time with you was now something of the past, however, because if all went well today, you would be married within just a day or two.

It was already raining, which would’ve made the situation so much gloomier to you if you hadn’t been revelling in the fact that it meant you could take the carriage instead of walk. You didn’t mind getting your shoes or the hem of your dress dirty, but other people did. And the people you would be seeing today would not approve of anything that wasn’t perfect upon arrival.

You only remembered the Everglots vaguely from your childhood during the instance when you’d been playing in a similar storm and one of their maids had shooed you away, saying you were being too loud and an unfit view for their folk. Their house was a different story, however. It stood tall above all other houses, even yours, so it was hard to miss. You weren’t rich, even though your parents liked to pretend they were. Your father owned the biggest and only fishing company in town; the main source of income from Gloomington. The thing was though, the seas were being overfished, and all he was getting from the ocean now were ones the sizes of goldfish.

You presumed this is why your parents decided to marry you off to the Everglots’ son, Thomas. According to your nanny, they were a bunch of washed-up aristocrats. Otherwise, you’d never even caught a glimpse of them, let alone of their offspring. Which is probably why you were so nervous. If he was anything like his parents personality-wise, you hoped he at least made up for it on the outside.

“Stop fidgeting,” your mother said, snapping you from your daze. You looked down to your hands, which had been crumpling a bunch of the fabric of your dress together, probably creating creases. You wonder if you had subconsciously done it, simply out of spite, because the nerves had numbed any other senses. You smoothed it out, crossed your legs and folded your hands across your lap, to which your mother gave a pleased nod.

A glance towards your father told you not much else, he was too busy going through last-minute calculations in his notebook. This must seem like ordinary business to him.

Your heart jumped a little as you watched the horse pulling your carriage nearly slip in the mud. He’d been in your family for fifteen years now, it was a wonder he was still standing. Perhaps the whip was reason enough for such a solemn animal, confined to his leather straps and iron mouthpiece. You tugged on the silver chain your mother had draped across your neck. Some of the diamonds had been taken out, but you could only see it if you looked very closely.

The carriage wavered and eventually managed to stop with another crack of the whip. It went almost simultaneously with the clash of thunder.

Hopping out, you looked down to see your polished shoes had landed directly in the biggest puddle on the square.

“Oh, miss, you should’ve let me put my coat down for you,” the old coachman called out, rising from his seat.

Your mother’s unnerving gaze followed yours down to the puddle around your feet. “Yes, you should have. I told you to watch your step with those shoes. Henry, clean them up.”

The coachman then proceeded to lay down his coat in the puddle anyways, and even after your protests continued to polish your shoes with his previously clean white handkerchief. You thanked him when he was finished, to which he tipped his hat.

“Hurry up. We’re already late,” your mother said. You wanted to rip the whip from his hands and hit her with it, but your composure and good sense got the better of you.

The massive doorknocker hit the hardwood three times because of your father’s shaky hand, which seemed to collapse back down to his side immediately after.

To your surprise, no maid opened, but the lady of the house herself did. Missus Everglot looked down upon you with a smile that looked more like a sneer. Her hair was greying, almost to the point where it was white, a colour matching the black dress she wore. Weren’t you supposed to wear colour for a special occasion such as this? You’d been so bold to wear something green; your best dress, to be perfectly honest. Were you supposed to wear black?

“It is good to see you again,” she hummed, and your parents made noises of agreement.

“Our apologies for bringing the bad weather. But that usually means good luck!” Your father said. You all laughed, though mostly out of politeness.

She invited you in, and you were finally able to see the grandeur of the Everglots household. Or well, what was left of it. The unlit fireplaces on either side of the entrance hall made you wonder if they no longer had maids working for them or if they simply enjoyed the cold. There was only one butler you saw so far, the one who took your coats from you and then scurried off. A big staircase stood in front of you, leading two opposite directions upstairs.

“Ah! You must be the daughter we’ve been hearing so much about!” Mister Everglot suddenly appeared, his arms spread wide with the same smile as his wife spread across his pale cheeks. He also wore black, though he bore quite a bit more weight than his wife, almost to the point where the top button of his shirt looked like it wanted to bail ship.

“It’s a true pleasure meeting you, mister Everglot,” you replied quietly, holding out your hand for him to shake. He barely did, before brushing you off to gloat about things to your parents. “You know, we’ve picked out the finest gold for the rings. The blacksmith in town just did a marvellous job on them-“

The ring on your hand felt heavy. It was your grandmothers’, passed down from your mother and onto you. Now you had to bear the burden of a loveless marriage.

Your silent sigh was interrupted by a quiet clearing of someone’s throat.

You looked up to meet the eyes of a dark-haired boy, who was scratching the back of his neck uncomfortably. He asked you if he got your name right. You nodded politely.

“Hi, I’m- I’m Thomas. It’s very nice to meet you, miss.”

You huffed in amusement at his stuttering. “I don’t think you have to call me ‘miss’, Thomas. We’ll be married soon.”

He smiled shyly. “I would keep calling you ‘miss’ if you preferred it. Marriage wouldn’t change that for me.”

You stood there, slightly aghast. This boy was nothing like his parents. You wondered who had raised him because as you had been fortunate enough with your nanny, you couldn’t imagine his having been any different.

“Better watch it there, Thomas.” Another man strutted down the stairs behind him. He looked just about as pretentious as mister and missus Everglot. “Don’t want to scare the little lady off there.”

Sykkuno only chuckled, but you could sense that his friend didn’t have the best intentions. He introduced himself after you, “The name’s Barkis. I’m a… good family friend of the Everglots, I suppose.” He kissed your hand, which made you shiver uncomfortably. You tried your best to hide it, instead turning your eyes to meet Thomas’ again. They seemed much brighter in this gloomy place.

At least, that’s what you kept reminding yourself of as you looked at yourself in the mirror, trying to refrain from fainting as your mother kept pulling on the strings of your corset until you were quite certain a few ribs had been broken off in the process.

“Now,” she reminded you, “This will be good for the family. I know you’re an unconventional spitfire, - I don’t know who you got that from – but you shall learn to listen to your husband. It will save your father’s business and his honour, not to mention your dignity.”

You couldn’t breathe, you needed air. Your mother saw the look in your eyes.

“And as a final warning, young lady, if you dare to try to run, you better remind yourself that this family will never take you in again. Not when you come crawling back with not a penny to carry, not with a baby you got from another man. You will be as good as dead to us, if you wouldn’t have already died in some gutter.”

You nodded, “I understand, mother. I just need some air.”

She gave you one last glance, before nodding. She locked the door after she left.

It allowed you to burst through the doors to the Everglots balcony, where outside the rain had thankfully settled a bit to a slight drizzle. But you didn’t care if your dress got wet. You had to untie the knot at your back.

Quickly.

But you couldn’t reach.

You leaned across the railing.

If you could reach a little further-

But your hand slipped, and you felt your feet being thrown the wrong way as you plummeted down the second floor.

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#Corpse husband #corpse x reader #corpse husband x reader #corpse #among us #youtube fanfiction #corpse bride #pewdiepie #jacksepticeye

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something-tofightfor · 4 years ago

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Magnetic: Chapter 3 - The Mandalorian

Pairing: The Mandalorian x You (Sort of. You meet him.) (female reader insert; no ‘Y/N’)

Word count: 6,635

Rating: None necessary.

Summary: Your journey across the galaxy to meet the Mandalorian with Grogu is well underway - but what will you find when you reach Nevarro and come face to helmet with him for the first time? ... And where will you go from there?

Author’s note:

Check out the earlier parts of this story by visiting my Masterlist

Here we go! I know the first couple chapters have been build up, but ... it kicks in here. Thank you all so much for reading this one and sending messages and leaving comments. I can’t wait for you to see what’s coming. I’m still adding people to the tag list, so if you want on ... LMK.

* Cara Dune is mentioned in this chapter and in future chapters, but the only physical detail I mention is her hair (I think) - so just imagine her as someone else if you need to. I get the controversy over the actress, but I love the character and she needed to be there because Reader needs another female to speak to about Mando that’s going to tell it like it is.*

(banner made by @malionnes)

For the third morning in a row, you were curled up on the floor in the cargo hold of the light freighter transporting you from the Academy’s planet to Nevarro. Your destination was a barren planet located smack dab in the center of the Ash Worlds sector, and you’d never been so far from home.

It was a long trip, even traveling through hyperspace, and you were growing anxious. But it’s the last day. You sighed, stretching out, and were surprised to see that Grogu wasn’t next to you anymore. I wonder where he… But you figured it out quickly, following the sounds of laughter into the cockpit, where the child was sitting in the copilot’s seat, staring out the front window of the ship and into space. “You’re not bothering Terys, are you, kid?” He turned his head up and toward you and the woman laughed, shaking hers.

“He’s not. He climbed in here all on his own, but he’s just been sitting and watching.”Good. You weren’t uncomfortable on the ship, but were looking forward to stretching your legs when you landed, breathing fresh air and figuring out what came next.For both of us. “We’ll be dropping out of hyperspace in about an hour, and then it’s only a few more from there. We made good time.”

“No, Terys, you made good time.” Sliding around the seat, you reached down, picking Grogu up and settling him in your lap, facing forward. ‘I’m surprised they let you pilot us out here, I’m sure you have so much more to do, you’re the -”

“I wanted to.” She turned her head toward yours, a mischievous look in her eyes. “Never seen a real Mandalorian before.” You laughed at that, feeling her excitement, though you’d been practicing keeping yourself more closed off in preparation for meeting him yourself. You’d told Grogu what you were doing, telling him that you didn’t want to overhear anything you weren’t supposed to, but he wrapped his fingers around yours, squeezing. Harder with beskar.

You hadn’t even considered that. Beskar was exceedingly rare, and the only time you’d seen it in person was when you’d handled the pendant Grogu wore around his neck; gleaming silver in the shape of a Mythosaur. You knew it was strong, knew that it was valuable, and also knew that the Mandalorian was covered in it, mainly as a result of the spoils of his assignment to find and return Grogu in the first place. But Grogu could read him, at least partially, because he … “You might not even see one this time, Terys. He might not be there when we land, there could be delays, or -”

“Master Skywalker sent a transmission. He’ll be there, he’s already landed.” You couldn’t help smiling at the thought that within a few hours, Grogu would be reunited with the man, and your adventure would begin. “I’m going to land the ship and head into the town with you, spend the night, refuel, and then leave tomorrow. There has to be a reason I’m there, so I can’t just touch down and then take off.” She was right - but you didn’t reply right away, focusing on Grogu, who was babbling away on your lap, one hand clutching the pendant, the other resting on your forearm. Keeping yourself occupied, kid? “He … they trust you, but I’m supposed to make sure that -”

“That the kid’s safe, right?” You looked down. “I get it. He’s important, and he’s … it makes sense.” You knew that once you left the ship, you’d need to keep it with you at all times, but your lightsaber was tucked into your bag, along with your cloak and the few other things you’d brought from the Academy. Essentials, you thought. Packed light, just like he … Since you didn’t know how long you’d be gone, you’d cleaned out your quarters, storing everything you didn’t take in one of the unused lower rooms. You carried more credits in your bag than you ever had before in your life, and you knew that Grogu also had his fair share tucked away, packed by someone else while you took care of everything you needed to. “Gotta make sure everyone’s who they say they are, right?”

“Yeah.” Terys settled back in her chair, rotating it slightly toward you. “Marshal on the planet’s name is Cara Dune, I’ve been in contact with her, and she -” But you widened your eyes, looking down at Grogu. Cara! Your friend! You bounced him on your lap a few times, hearing the sound of his laughter. “She’s excited to see him again, I guess she was there when Master Skywalker found Grogu.” Of course she was.

It was fuzzy, because he’d been groggy, but Grogu’s memories were filled with the people that had been on the ship - and in the room with him - when he first met Luke and the shiny blue and white droid that rarely left the man’s sight. You knew their names and faces well, knew how he felt about each of them, and were ready to meet them yourself, if given the chance. “Who wouldn’t be excited to see him, hmm?” Grogu’s grip on your arm suddenly tightened, and you went quiet, thinking. Use the fresher, change clothes, get Grogu ready. You knew you had time, but you were restless after waking, and weren’t ready to eat. Go. Fine here. He was making noises again, turning on your lap, and only a few seconds later, Grogu was looking up at you, hands hanging at his sides. “What?” He blinked slowly, tilting his head, but Grogu didn’t reply - and you didn’t catch a single one of his thoughts.

---

The drop from hyperspace hadn’t been as sudden as you thought it would be, and by the time you’d begun the landing process, you were giddy with excitement. Everything’s new. Everything is … I’ve never done any of this before. Grogu was in his floating cradle in the cockpit, giving you the opportunity to gather all of your things together, but you were somewhat concerned with how quiet he was. You ok, kid? Pausing as you loaded the bags next to the ramp, you concentrated on him. You’re quiet. Fine. There was a pause. Scared. Dropping the last bag, you quickly went back to where he and Terys were, scooping him out of the container and sitting down again, strapping yourself in. Why are you scared? Been too long. “Oh, Grogu.” You dropped your head, kissing the top of his, and saw that Terys was pointedly trying to ignore the two of you, hands on the navigational equipment as she guided the ship toward the planet. What if -

You could feel that he was nervous, the apprehension making his tiny body rigid. Oh, no. You have nothing to worry about. He’s gonna be so happy to see you. He relaxed - slightly - and you continued to think, keeping your eyes forward. He’s your dad, kid. He loves you. He missed you. You’ll see. He didn’t answer back, and though you couldn’t hear his actual thoughts, you realized that you could still feel his emotions. You hiding from me now? A single word came back - the force of it surprising you. Yes. Well fine, then. You kissed the top of his head again, holding back a smile. I didn’t want to know what you were thinking anyway. He laughed at that, and you watched Terys turn her head toward you, smiling too. “You talking to him?”

“Yeah.” You sighed, eyes still on the planet in front of you as it came into focus. You were beneath the clouds, but high enough to keep you well above the jagged peaks of the arid landscape below you, and it was unlike anything you’d expected. There aren’t any trees, there’s nowhere to… The planet that the Academy was on wasn’t as forested as your home planet, but this was a drastic difference from both. Instead of trees and water, you saw only scrubby brush and cracked, dry ground - presumably from the lava fields you knew ran across the planet. There’s water somewhere, though. Otherwise … “Yeah, it’s easier to think sometimes, just makes the conversation go faster, you know?” She nodded in agreement. “I’m so used to just thinking when I’m with him, not having to speak, and it’s going to take some getting used to since the Mandalorian isn’t …”

“I’ve heard they’re hard to handle.” Terys pressed a few buttons above her head and the ship began descending slowly. “Especially this one. He’s got a reputation. People don’t … people don’t cross him.” You stayed silent, waiting. “And how that he’s King of Mandalore? People talk. I hear a lot when I fly between planets, and I think that between the two of them?” She gestured to Grogu with one hand. “You’re gonna have your hands full.” Considering her words, you rolled your eyes.

“I’m not here to have my hands full of anything except this little one.” You tightened your hold on Grogu briefly. “The Mandalorian is an -”

“He’s waiting for us.” She paused. “Well, for the two of you.” Squinting your eyes, you saw that she was right, and you felt your heart rate increase. “Looks like there’s a couple speeders, too. At least we won’t have to walk.” You locked your eyes on the single figure in the distance, watching as it grew larger by the second. There he is, kid. Grogu grew restless as you got closer, and by the time you were able to see the sunlight glinting off the top of his helmet, he was struggling to get off of your lap, the sounds coming out of his mouth a combination of frustration and excitement.

“Hey, buddy. Hang on.” You tried to comfort him, even though you knew it was useless, and as soon as you felt the gentle thump of the landing gear making contact with the planet’s surface, you were unbuckled and out of your seat, heading for the door. “I think we can leave the bags for now, and maybe his carriage too. We’ll get it all later.” Down. Down. Down. Terys’ reply was lost in Grogu’s high pitched squeals, and with a short laugh, you crouched down, setting his feet on the floor and tugging his robe - the one he’d come to the Academy in - back into place. “Please be careful. The last thing I want is for you to trip and fall, and for him to think -” I’m fine. He shuffled closer to the ramp, and before you could say anything else, it began to lower, the hot, dry air rushing in.

Grogu moved as soon as he could, following the ramp as it descended, you only a few steps behind him. You’d never seen him move so quickly, and even though you wanted to call out to him, telling him to slow down, you didn’t, hanging back and crossing your arms over your chest as you followed his footsteps through the dirt and dust toward the Mandalorian. He’d moved too, in the time that it took you to land and settle in, and you figured that the man was only twenty yards away from the ship - but you didn’t focus on him, instead watching Grogu’s path. Go get him, kid.

He wasn’t yelling; instead, as he moved, he made a noise you’d never heard before, a series of coos and warblings that rose in volume the closer he got. Close your mind. You let out a deep breath, reminding yourself that you weren’t here to listen to others - there was no reason to - and you didn’t want to intrude on their reunion.

When Grogu was only a few yards away, you finally glanced up, watching as the Mandalorian’s cape fluttered in the breeze, the man dropping to one knee and holding an arm out. “Grogu.” You didn’t need to read his mind to know what he was thinking; it was perfectly clear in the single, heavily modulated word, the last syllable catching in his throat. The child’s head barely reached the man’s knee level, but he kept his arms stretched out, ears flapping with each step as the final gap was closed. You felt the moment that they made contact with each other; a blindingly joyful reunion, and your lips parted, one hand reaching up to cover them as your teeth dug into the muscle between your thumb and forefinger, not wanting to make any noise. Oh, stars.

The Mandalorian stood after gathering Grogu into his arms, and you finally took a few more steps closer when you saw the child reach up with both hands, fingertips touching either side of the helmet as the man lowered his forehead toward the child’s. He’s so tiny. He’s never looked this small before. They stayed like that for long moments, heads bowed together, and though it was brief, you saw the shake of the heavily armored shoulders, the rise and fall of the man’s chest as he took in deep breaths. How it should be. This is … “Thank you.” You sucked in a breath, hand dropping to your side as the Mandalorian straightened up, tilting his head to the side and looking in your direction around Grogu’s head as he said your name. “For bringing him ho… here.”

“Of …” You swallowed hard, moving closer. “Of course. I’m more than happy to…” Glancing between the two of them, you watched as he shifted Grogu effortlessly into the crook of his elbow, the kid facing you once more. “And look how happy he is. Totally worth it.” The man glanced down at Grogu and then back at you, wordlessly. “Right, kid?” His ears down, Grogu only looked at you for a few seconds before he stared back up at the man holding him, his grip on the gloved fingers and forearm tightening.

“Your things, are they on the -” You heard the tightness in his voice, the man hesitating when he spoke. “Are his -” He doesn’t want to do this now, he just wants …

“They are.” You gestured toward the speeders, noticing that only one was a single rider. “But go.” He cocked his head slightly, waiting. “Terys - the pilot - and I will load everything. Take him and go back into town. You guys have some catching up to do. You need some privacy.” The Mandalorian shifted on his feet and then turned, taking two steps toward one of the speeders before he glanced back over his shoulder, the side profile of his helmet almost more intimidating than looking at it head on.

“There’s a small cantina, next to the inn?” You acknowledged the words. “Go there after you’ve settled into your room, I’ll… we’ll meet you there.” That isn’t enough time for you.

“Mandalorian?” You finally spoke, willing your voice not to shake. “Take your time. How about … I’ll meet you at sundown? That’s a few hours from now.” He didn’t answer, and you spoke again, reaching up to rub at your outer bicep, your skin warm and dry beneath your fingers from only a few minutes in the bright sunlight. “There’s no rush.” You didn’t think that he would speak again, but he surprised you and did, after giving you a single nod and then turning his head to face forward, toward the arch leading into town.

“No, there isn’t.” Staying in place, you watched as he carefully loaded Grogu into one of the side bags, tightening the straps to make sure he didn’t fall out. Starting the speeder, the Mandalorian took off in the opposite direction - without looking back. Bye, kid. See you soon.

“Well that was something.” Startled, you spun back around toward your ship, seeing that Terys was standing a few feet behind you, both hands on her hips and her eyes following the plume of dust from behind the moving speeder. “Guess we’re on our own?” She was amused, you could hear it in her voice and see it written on her face, but she wasn’t mad. She still didn’t get to meet him.

“They needed time. And obviously, this is … he planned this. We’re close enough that we didn’t need the speeders, but he…” You felt yourself smile and you looked down at the ground, nodding. “He did this for Grogu.” You had seen countless memories of riding speeders from Grogu’s point of view; the landscape flying by, almost able to feel the wind against your skin. “It’s fine. We don’t have much to load, and that speeder’s plenty big enough for both of us.” You turned to face her, a wide smile on your lips. “I’ll buy you a drink once we get into town and get our rooms.”

“Deal.”

---

A few hours later, you and Terys were sitting at a table in the corner of the small cantina, cups of ale in front of you. You’d already eaten, and though the food on the ship wasn’t bad, it was nice to have a freshly prepared meal in your stomach, something both of you agreed on. “How is it, for you?” She lifted her cup to her mouth, taking a long drink. “Are places like this worse than the Academy, because everyone’s just -” I didn’t … no. You blinked, realizing that even though there were plenty of people in the room, their thoughts weren’t overwhelming you. “Actually …” You took a drink of your own, eyes moving over the others gathered in the space. “When I was in training, before I stopped?” She nodded, waiting. “One of the Masters told me that everything depends on how … prevalent, I guess, the Force is.” Explain it better. “It doesn’t matter how many people there are somewhere, because it’s everywhere, it just… there are certain places in the galaxy where it’s stronger, where more people … are aware of it?” You stopped. “I’ve never really explained it before, because I’ve only really been a few places for longer than a few days at a time. But it’s not as strong here, so I can sort of feel what people are thinking, but I’d have to really concentrate to hear them clearly. At the Academy, I have to actively close myself off just to keep myself from overloading sometimes.” It had taken time, but as the months passed, you found it easier. People still get through, like Bari, but … “Since everyone there is… at a different level, I guess? When it comes to using the Force? Some people can keep their thoughts from me on their own, and others … can’t.”

“That makes sense.” She chewed on her lower lip. “Can you still feel Grogu here, though? Wouldn’t it be dangerous to send you off knowing that, if - “

“I can. I can always feel him.” You took another drink, the liquid cold against your throat. “And I think it’s because we’ve been so close for the last year. But like I said, I’d have to really work to have a conversation with him at this distance in a place like this.” Luke and the other Masters were much more knowledgeable than you, and you figured that they knew what they were doing sending the two of you off. If it was dangerous, it wouldn’t have happened. “It’s good, though, it gives him … them privacy. And they deserve that.”

“They’re here.” She widened her eyes. “Listen.” You did, not understanding at first, but then you got it. The room had gone almost silent at the entrance of the Mandalorian and Grogu, who was once again nestled in his floating carriage, which you and Terys had dropped off at the inn’s counter. He’s got a history here, but they’re … they’re afraid of him. You turned in your seat, making eye contact with Grogu, who peered over the edge of his carrier, waving at you. Hi, you. “I don’t know why I’m so nervous,” Terys whispered. “It’s not like ... “ Not like what?

Others would likely have felt at a disadvantage if they were suddenly unable to read the room entirely, but it was almost a blessing to you. Sensing the emotions of those around you, you could handle. But constantly hearing their thoughts at random? I’m glad for the break. The Mandalorian stopped next to your table, and out of instinct, you reached for Grogu with both hands, freezing as you realized that you didn’t have to. Oh, I … Fighting back a frown, you winked at the kid instead, lowering both palms to the tabletop. This is going to take some getting used to. “Can I sit?” His words surprised you, but you didn’t hesitate.

“You don’t need to ask permission.” You looked up, shrugging your shoulders as your eyes landed on the darkened T-shape of his visor. “This is more your town than mine.”

“It’s not.” He lowered himself into the seat with more agility than you would have thought possible for someone covered in so much beskar, hands resting on his lap. “Not … not anymore.” Slowly, the conversation in the room began again, but the Mandalorian didn’t speak, and neither did you, instead turning your attention back to Grogu, who’d settled down, head turning back and forth between you and the man.

Unsure of how to fill the silence, you glanced at Terys, who shrugged, and then back at Grogu. “Have you eaten, kid? We can order you something.”

“We did.” The modulated voice came again, the Mandalorian’s head angling down toward the carriage. “I don’t know when he usually -”

“Set mealtimes, but he snacks a lot.” You admitted it, finally reaching for Grogu and rubbing your thumb over the back of his hand. “I’m sure you know how much he loves eating.” He does. It was a relief to hear Grogu’s thoughts again, even after only a few hours, and even moreso to hear how relaxed he sounded. “Can’t blame him though, he’s really busy all day, so -” You saw the Mandalorian lean back in his seat, your gaze rising from Grogu to the man. Oh, I should introduce … “This is Terys, by the way. She’s our pilot, and -”

“You made good time.” He spoke directly to the woman without addressing her, and even though you couldn’t see his eyes, you knew by the shift of his head’s position that he was looking at her - or at the very least, was looking in her direction. “Have you flown to Nevarro before?”

“N-no.” She straightened up, the tremor in her voice audible. “Flown a lot of places, but mostly mid and inner-rim lately. I used to exclusively fly in the Core, but …” She lifted her cup again, gesturing with it. “Things change.”

“They do.” His tone gave nothing away, and you found yourself leaning slightly toward him, just watching. “Fast.” You wondered how quickly his life moved in his mind, what it felt like to be the man, how much he thought about all of the changes that had taken place throughout his lifetime. Ask. Your attention snapped back to Grogu in surprise. No way. You glanced at the Mandalorian and then back at the child. I wouldn’t ever.

“So.” Terys cleared her throat, still holding her cup in one hand. “You know Nevarro well?” She was focused on the Mandalorian, her eyes on his helmet. “I hear it’s changed a lot in the -”

“It has.” You looked up and toward the source of the new voice. “I’m Cara Dune, Marshal of Nevarro for the New Republic.” She stuck out her hand and you reached up to shake it, grinning at the woman. Pulling her hand from yours, she gave Terys a quick nod but didn’t offer to shake her hand, instead leaning over and scooping Grogu out of his carriage, lifting him up as she squealed in happiness, his arms waving. The Mandalorian followed the movement with a subtle shift of his body, the lower edge of his helmet engled upward. “Oh, you little womp rat, you got big.” Cara moved to the other side of the man, sitting on the bench seat and keeping Grogu close. “Wanted to come see you earlier, but I got told no and so did Karga. He’ll be here soon, it’ll be like -” She glanced at the Mandalorian, wrinkling her nose as Grogu’s fingers closed around a loose lock of her hair. “Like old times.”

“Karga’s coming? Tonight?” The Mandalorian let out a breath. “Dank farrik. I thought -”

“He wouldn’t miss it, Mando.” Cara tweaked Grogu’s nose with her fingers and then leaned over, placing him back atop his blankets. “You know how he is. Plus I thought -”

“I do.” It was only two words, but you heard the finality in them. “Can I … talk to you?” He swiveled his head toward you, one gloved hand landing on the tabletop. “Outside?” Though confused at the abrupt shift in conversation, you nodded and then stood, draining the rest of your drink and telling Terys to order you another if she wanted. He stepped away from the table and you followed the Mandalorian back through the cantina, trying to ignore the looks you got from the other patrons. Once outside, you glanced up at the slowly darkening sky, smiling at the sun setting in the distance as you walked next to the Mandalorian, headed slowly in the direction of the ships. “I wanted to talk to you.” I figured, otherwise… But you stopped yourself, realizing that you needed to disregard everything you assumed about the man, waiting for him to reveal the truth to you.

“That’s probably a good idea, since we’ll be in … well, since we’ll both …” The Mandalorian stopped suddenly, turning his entire body toward you. His hands hung at his sides, and you stared at him, waiting. You noticed the blaster at his hip, the bandolier across his chest, a smaller one secured around his boot. He would have been imposing without the ammunition, but it added to the overall effect - you knew it and he knew it, though you didn’t think he considered it much. It’s just his life.

“I’ve heard about you.” He paused. “About people like you, that can … like him, like Ahsoka.” You waited for him to continue, and after a few seconds, he did. “I know Grogu can talk with you, but Skywalker also warned me … can you read my mind?” It was blunt, but you appreciated the candor from him. “Do you know what -”

“Can I try?” It was bold of you, but you knew that sometimes, the non-Force sensitive could feel when you were listening to them, and you didn’t want to shock him if that was the case. “You might feel a -”

“Yes.” Turning your attention toward the Mandalorian, you looked again at the visor, thinking. Wait.

“If there’s anything you don’t want me to know, try to … not think of it. It’s… Sometimes I just see everything, and I…” You swallowed. “I know that your name isn’t something you give freely. I know that to see your face is … unacceptable.” He straightened his shoulders. “Grogu’s … I know he’s seen your face, and he’s kept it from me this whole time, even without me asking, so you don’t have to …” He stood still in front of you, and when he didn’t speak, you lowered your head, sighing. “Alright. Anyway.” You brought your eyes back up and looked at his head again, focusing.

You could feel the man’s presence when you concentrated, a low, thrumming energy, and you realized that he was tightly coiled, though his posture didn’t betray him. He’s always ready, he’s always on edge, and he’s … You felt that he was relieved, too, but there were no solid thoughts, nothing in focus. Frowning, you took a deeper breath, still eyeing him, and even though you picked up on some of the people around you, you couldn’t get a read on the Mandalorian. “Well?”

“I …” You lifted a hand, head shaking back and forth. “Can I touch your arm? Or maybe your hand? Even through the glove, it …” He didn’t move for long seconds, but then he lifted his right arm from his side, turning his palm up toward you. You didn’t hesitate, reaching up and placing your hand flat atop his and closing your eyes in concentration. The emotions were stronger, and you sensed more anxiety, discontent deep within the man, but still no clear words or thoughts except - “Grogu.” You opened your eyes, pulling your hand back. “All I can … I can feel you, but … the only thing I know you’re thinking about is the kid. I think it’s the beskar, it interferes with …” You chewed on your lip. “Your thoughts are safe, Mandalorian. I’ll be … the stronger your emotions, the more likely I am to feel them, but I… oh, stars, it’s going to be amazing traveling with you. The kid’s trying to hide more of his thoughts from me. I can’t read you. It’s going to be silent for once, and I won’t have to -”

“I thought of him every day.” His voice was quieter than it had been. “I promised him I’d see him again, but part of me thought …” His arms were crossed over his chest, head turned to the side. “I … thought -”

“Well he’s here now. And he will be for a while. I’ll try to keep out of your way as much as possible. This trip isn’t about me, and I don’t want -”

“He needs you.” The Mandalorian’s helmet was facing forward again. “You’re here because he needs you. I saw you reach for him earlier, and then stop. You don’t have to do that.” I do. I do, because he’s not …

“If you say so.” You shrugged, deciding to follow his lead. “Did you bring me out here just to make sure that I couldn’t read your thoughts? Or -” He chuckled, or at least you thought he did, and then went quiet again.

“You aren’t afraid of me.” It wasn’t a question, but he didn’t give you a chance to reply before he continued. “I’m glad. But … why? Have you met other -”

“No, you’re my first Mandalorian.” You rubbed a hand against your cheek, looking down and then back up. “But the kid, he … he’s told me a lot about you, and I guess… he trusts you. So I do, too.”

“Trust is earned.” The Mandalorian said your name, taking a half step closer and ducking his head slightly. “It has to be. Otherwise it means nothing.” He was right, but you were steadfast in your resolve, at least on your end. I have no reason not to trust you. Luke wouldn’t have sent us here if there was reason to doubt you. “Then I hope to earn yours.” You smiled at him, reaching up to push hair behind your ear. “Also, I … I know I asked if I could call you ‘Mandalorian’, but I didn’t even consider … you’re the Mand’alor, so should I call you that instead? I don’t want to -” The last thing you wanted to do was offend him, so you figured getting things out into the open as quickly as possible was the best call.

“You can call me Mando.” He straightened up, and you watched him look around at the still busy street. “When we get back to Mandalore, that may change, depending on …” He stopped. “But we aren’t going back to Mandalore right away.” We’re not? But I thought … “Meeting on Nevarro wasn’t just because it was convenient. I’m here to …” Eyes widening, you glanced down as you felt him growing excited, the anxiety slipping back slightly. Oh, he’s here to… “I didn’t want to talk about it in front of the pilot, because it’s not her concern, but …”

“You’re here for bounty pucks.” You whispered the words, feeling your own heart rate increase. “But I thought you wanted to spend time with -”

“I do.” He sighed again. “If we go back to Mandalore right away, I won’t get to … when I’m there, things are … more political.” Of course they are, you’re the King, and you’re expected to … “But here, or up there?” He pointed toward the sky. “It… isn’t.”

“I understand.” You did, and hoped that he knew you were telling the truth. “And he hunted with you before, so…” You shrugged again. “You’ll keep him safe, Mando.” Saying it for the first time, you felt the sound of it pull at your lips before you smiled again, closing your eyes.

“No.” Your eyes reopened, head cocked to the side in question as he stared at you. “We will.”

---

After returning inside, you’d gone back to your table, sliding back in and lifting the new drink, toasting with Cara and Terys, the Mandalorian again leaning back in his seat silently. By the time Karga arrived, clapping a hand down onto the other man’s shoulder and introducing himself loudly to you and the pilot, you were feeling more at ease than you’d ever felt out with the others from the Academy. It’s because there’s no pressure. I don’t owe any of these people anything, aside from Grogu, and … it feels good.

Cara and Terys stepped away to play darts, leaving you, Mando, Karga and Grogu at the table, the little one climbing out of his cradle and toddling over the bench to the second man, climbing into his lap and settling there for a few minutes, the newcomer welcoming him excitedly. He really does have friends here. You smiled at the sight, introducing yourself and striking up a conversation with the man while Mando again sat back, letting the two of you talk. It hadn’t taken long for Grogu to climb from Karga’s lap and into his father’s, and even as you continued your conversation, you saw the man’s gloved hand rise, his thumb stroking over the top curve of the kid’s ear. He doesn’t even realize he’s doing it.

Grogu nodded off after only a few minutes, but Mando made no move to put him back into the cradle, instead asking Karga directly for the discussed pucks, one hand curled protectively around the kid’s body. “She knows. I told her earlier. You don’t need to hide them.”

“I don’t need the Jedi on my tail.” Karga eyed you. “You won’t -”

“I’m not a Jedi. And it’s not like I’m checking in with them daily, either.” You shrugged, finishing your drink. “You don’t get a reputation like his without being good at what you do. As long as they know the kid’s ok, they don’t need anything else.” You looked at the Mandalorian, giving him another smile. “And you don’t have to worry about me saying anything about what he does, or what you do.”

“His reputation?” Karga laughed. “I have one too, you know.” But he was still smiling, reaching into his deep pocket and pulling out a handful of the pucks, quickly stacking them and sliding them toward the man that sat to your left. “Five of them to start. You know the rules. I picked mid-tier, just to -”

“That’s fine. Standard payment?” Karga nodded. “Good.” He reached for the stack, picking it up and glancing at the discs before reaching down and securing them in one of his waist pouches without flipping through them. “We -”

“So, Mandalorian.” Terys was back at the table, Cara a few steps behind her. “What -”

“Terys, stop.” You whispered the words, reaching forward to touch her arm. “You don’t -” You could feel the interest rolling off of her, and you were irritated that you hadn’t picked up on it earlier. She wants to go to bed with him, that’s… “You’ve had too -”

“I have not.” She cleared her throat and you watched as Grogu was shifted from the Mandalorian’s lap and back into his cradle, the sides closing with a few punches of the buttons on his vambrance. “I just know what I want.” I tried. She dropped back into her seat and propped her head on her hand, eyes bright. “You’re a man under there, right? So you -”

You watched as Cara’s eyebrows rose and she turned away from the table, headed for the bar, Karga not far behind her. Oh, boy. How do I … “I’m not… interested.” His voice was even, but you heard no emotion in it, the Mandalorian’s visor pointed directly at the pilot. “It wouldn’t … no.” She pouted for a few seconds, and you took the opportunity to stand, looking down at where the man still sat.

“I’ll see you in the morning? Which ship is yours, I can meet you there.” You glanced at the carriage. “We -” The Mandalorian’s attention shifted to you; the whole upper half of his body turning along with his head.

“I’ll need to unlink his carriage, otherwise -” What? No.

“He’s staying with you tonight, Mando.” You gave him a gentle smile. “Not me.” You watched the set of his arms tighten, keeping the smile on your face. “So just tell me -”

“But you said he comes to your room at night. What if he wakes up and -”

“He won’t.” You were sure of it. “If he wakes up, he’ll know you’re there, and won’t even try to find me.” He doesn’t need me anymore. You caught Cara’s eye and the woman tilted her head toward the door, one eyebrow raised. I’m trying. “Goodnight, Mando.” Holding a hand out toward Terys, you laughed again, helping her to her feet. “Let’s get you to bed. You’re gonna need sleep to fly out tomorrow.”

As the woman stepped around the table, she reached out with one hand, settling it on the Mandalorian’s shoulder briefly. He stiffened immediately, but you doubted the stumbling woman noticed. He doesn’t like to be touched unexpectedly. Good to know. “I’m in room 5 if you change your mind.” But she let you lead her from the bar, and you waved goodbye to the other two before stepping out into the darkness of the street. “You shoulda helped me. Did you see the size of him? He would have -”

“You just met him, you can’t expect…” But the woman laughed, the two of you headed back for the inn, and though it was only a few steps away, it seemed to take forever. It’s a good thing we aren’t sleeping on the ship.

“He’s a bounty hunter turned King, he has to live in the moment.” She sighed and unlocked her door. “Maybe he’ll show up.” Yeah, I doubt that. “Could you read him?” She leaned in the doorway, frowning. “What’s going on in that head of his? Could you see what he looks like under there?”

“I don’t know. I couldn’t really see anything.” You wrinkled your nose. “And I have no idea. I don’t want to.” That’s a lie. “Goodnight. I’ll see you before we go our separate ways tomorrow.” She closed the door and you walked to your room, locking the door behind you and laying down on the bed without even changing. There’s no point. I’m just …

Stretching out, you realized how exhausted you were - and how much you appreciated the small but soft mattress. Back onto a ship tomorrow. Hopefully there’s a bench large enough for me. Sighing, you closed your eyes, replaying the day - and your interactions with everyone on Nevarro - in your mind. What a busy few hours. But that night, you dreamed about the man’s eyes again - and this time, you could see the skin at the outside corners of them - both sides deeply creased, as if he was smiling.

---

Magnetic/Din Djarin Tag List:

@the-blind-assassin-12 @pheedraws @alraedesigns @malionnes @deceiverofgodss @thisisparadisemylove @siegfriedkingsglaive @valkblue @hehe-oof @jynrumbly

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just-dreaming-marvel · 4 years ago

Text

I’m From Brooklyn, Too ~ 143

OUT OF TIME MASTERLIST

I’M FROM BROOKLYN, TOO MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 2,785ish

Summary: The plan is finalized and the team begins to get the Stones.

Warning: tread carefully and don’t hate me

Notes: You must read Out Of Time in order to understand this. The chapter numbers continue from Out Of Time. (gifs aren’t mine)

Y/N woke up in the morning, tucked into her bed. Alone. It wasn’t all that surprising, but that didn’t make it hurt any less. She slowly got ready for the day and met everyone out in the conference room. She sat away from the group as they began to go over the Tesseract and the Mind Stone. The original Avengers, except Y/N and Thor, talked about the two Stones together, having shared experiences with both Stones.

“Y/N,” Steve called. “Anything to add?”

She rubbed her hand nervously. “Nope,” she responded, clearly not okay. “You guys covered it all.” She stood up. “You guys continue, I’m just going to go get some air.”

Y/N quickly left, leaving the others to share worried glances. She made her way to her bedroom and out to the balcony. Sitting down on one of the chairs, she put her head in her hands.

“Hey,” Steve greeted, coming to sit beside her. “You okay?”

“No,” Y/N responded. She bit her bottom lip and looked up at the sky. “I… I’ve screwed everything up.”

“What? How?”

“I’m still in love with Bucky… and Tony knows.”

“Y/N, I—“

“Don’t say anything, Steve. Nothing you can say could make this any better. I’m in love with Bucky. And I’ve ruined my daughter’s family. And you’re angry at me for keeping secrets, which you don’t even know the half of.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I-I can’t… I can’t do this right now.” She stood up, Steve following.

“No. I need an explanation.”

“You need an explanation? Well I need a break. Can we just go back in there and focus on the task at hand? We need to finish going through everything before I decide to run home and never leave my child’s side again.”

“You can’t just ignore this.”

“Oh, I can. And I have been for years. There’s nothing more you can say, Steve, to make me say anything else.” The twins stared each other down. “Drop it, Steve. We should go back inside before people start doubting me more than they are.”

Steve huffed and left for where the others were. Y/N took her time going from the balcony and into her bedroom. Tony was there when she walked in.

“I heard,” he commented. “He’ll come around.”

“No he won’t,” Y/N said. “I’ve broken his trust. Just like I have yours.”

“Y/—“

“You don’t have to lie, Tony. I know that I hurt, too.”

Tony sighed. “That’s true. But that doesn’t mean I won’t fight side by side with you until I can’t anymore.”

“I don’t deserve you.”

“That’s true.” He waltzed over and offered her his hand. “Let’s stick together, shall we?” Y/N took his hand and Tony pulled her up.

~~~

The team has spent a majority of the day listening to everyone talk about the Stones. They had also tried to piece together a final plan, but they were struggling to do so. Y/N was with a majority of the team in the kitchen and dining area when Tony, Natasha, and Bruce came rushing in.

“There’s 3 Stones in New York!” Natasha exclaimed.

“What?” Steve questioned, furrowed brows.

“In 2012, during the Battle of New York,” Bruce began explaining, “there was the Space Stone, the Mind Stone, and the Time Stone.”

“Holy shit,” Y/N gasped.

“We’ve figured it out,” Tony said, smiling proudly at Y/N. “We’re going to get them back.”

“Did you happen to figure out a plan?” Steve wondered.

“We did,” Natasha said.

The plan and assignments were quickly given out and explained.

2012 - New York City

Mind Stone: Steve

Space Stone: Clint, Natasha, and Scott

Time Stone: Bruce

2013 - Asgard

Reality Stone: Thor and Rocket

2014 - Morag and Vormir

Power Stone: Nebula and Rhodey

Soul Stone: Tony and Y/N

“Alright, we have a plan,” Steve said after everything was discussed. “Six Stones, three teams. One shot. Get some rest and we’ll meet up bright and early in the morning.”

Everyone nodded and broke off to go do their own things. Tony came over and pressed a kiss to Y/N’s temple.

“I’ll meet you in our room,” he whispered. “I have something I want to do before.”

“Are you okay?” She asked.

“I’m fine. Go call Morgan and I’ll catch up.”

He gave her one last forehead kiss before heading off. Y/N began making her way to her room when Steve stepped in front of her.

“Can I help you?” She asked.

“Can I trust you?” Steve asked, gruffly.

“What?”

“You’ve been keeping secrets, still are. I need to know that I can trust you to successfully do the job that needs to be done.”

“You can’t be serious, Steve.”

“I am very serious.”

“I can’t even believe you right now. You really doing this now? After everything?”

“I just need to know that I can trust you. You have secrets and your secrets have secrets, and I know that I don’t even know everything yet. And I’m your brother.”

“You have secrets too, Steve. But why am I getting all the heat? One of your secrets even forced me on the run and was one of the causes of my miscarriage. Yet you don’t see me pushing you about it. Let it all go.” She turned around. “I’ll get the job done, Captain. I always do.”

~~~

“I’m so glad you had fun today, Mo!” Y/N smiled at her daughter on the screen. “That makes me so happy.”

“Are you and daddy having fun?” She asked, sitting up more in her bed.

“Always,” Tony answered loudly, coming into the room and sitting at Y/N’s side.

“Daddy!”

“Hey, sweetheart! You being good?”

“Of course!” She giggled. “When are you two coming home?”

“Soon, sweetheart, soon.”

“Hopefully just a few more days,” Y/N clarified.

“I miss you guys!”

“We miss you too, honey.”

“It’s bedtime though,” Tony said. “We love you and we will talk to you tomorrow.”

“Love you 3000!”

Y/N hung up and began nervously twirling her phone in her hand. Tony could tell that she was nervous about tomorrow. He moved so that he was sitting in front of her.

“We’re going to be fine,” he said.

“You don’t know that,” she responded quietly, avoiding eye contact.

“No, I don��t.” Tony moved so that he was in her line of sight. “But I do know that both of us will do whatever we have to, to get the Stone and come back to Morgan.”

She met his gaze with teary eyes. “I’m terrified.”

He grabbed her hand. “I know.”

He leaned in, kissing Y/N softly and yet passionately all at once. She quickly kissed back, moving her hands to hold onto the back of his neck. Together, they moved so that Y/N was lying down and Tony was over her.

“Are you okay with this?” Y/N whispered against Tony’s lips.

“Of course,” he replied. “We might not come back tomorrow, right?”

“Right.”

“Let’s live like it’s our last night.”

~~~

Everyone was suited up and had their needed gear before they headed to the platform. They all headed onto it as Bruce stopped at the control panel.

“Five years ago, we lost. All of us,” Steve began a speech. “We lost friends… We lost family… We lost a part of ourselves. Today, we have a chance to take it all back. You know your teams, you know your missions. Get the stones, get them back. One round trip each. No mistakes. No do-overs. Most of us are going somewhere we know. But it doesn't mean we should know what to expect. Be careful. Look out for each other. This is the fight of our lives. And we're gonna win.” Tony and Steve gave each other a look. “Whatever it takes. Good luck.”

“He’s pretty good at that,” Rocket made a comment to Scott.

“Right?” Scott responded, excitedly.

“Alright. You heard the man. Stroke those keys, jolly green,” Tony said.

“Tractors engaged,” Bruce informed.

Rocket came over and handed his shrunken ship, the Benatar, to Tony. “You promise to bring that back in one piece, right?” Rocket questioned.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, Ratchet,” Tony responded. “I’ll do my best.”

“As promises go, that was pretty lame.”

Everyone was in their place as the center of the platform opened. Natasha turned to Tony and smiled.

“See you in a minute,” she said.

Tony gave a small smile back before they all shrunk and entered the Quantum Realm. Rhodey, Tony, Y/N, and Nebula landed on Morag. Looking around, Y/N felt a strong buzzy in her head. She groaned, holding her hands to her ears.

“Y/N?” Tony called, concerned.

He put a hand on her back. She began gasping as she could feel the Stones connect with her.

“What will happen, must happen,” the Stones gravelly voice entered her head. “We will stop you, until it’s time to stop him.”

“Y/N?” Rhodey tried.

“Th-the Stones,” Y/N panted, softly. “I can feel them again… We—we’re connected.”

“Are you going to be okay?” Tony asked.

“Yeah… I got it.”

Giving Y/N unconvinced looks, they all worked to get the Benatar to its normal size. Nebula flew it up so that they could lower the smaller ship inside it.

“Alright. Bring it down Blue,” Rhodey said, guiding Nebula. “Right on that line. That’s it. Down, down.”

“Hey, can we hurry it up?” Tony asked.

“Guys, chop-chop,” Y/N pushed. “Come on. We’re on a clock.”

“All that, is really helpful,” Rhodey responded as Nebula finished lowering the smaller ship.

Y/N smiled as she walked up and hugged Rhodey. “Take care, okay?”

“Yeah. As long as you take are of him.”

“Always.”

“Take that Stone and come back,” Rhodey pulled away. “No messing around.”

Y/N nodded and walked back so Tony could give his friend a hug. Nebula landed the Benatar and exited it.

“Hey. You got this,” Tony told Rhodey, pulling back from their hug.

“Let’s get it done.”

“Yes, sir.” Tony walked over to meet Y/N on the ship’s ramp.

“You guys watch each others’ six.”

Y/N flashed Rhodey another smile before Tony and her disappeared into the ship. Y/N could tell that being in the Benatar was bringing back memories for Tony. He walked up to the front seats, running his hand down one of them.

“You okay?” Y/N asked.

“Always,” he replied, flashing a brief smile.

Y/N followed Tony’s lead in piloting the ship. Getting off of Morag, Tony had the ship speeding off. Y/N and Tony looked at each other.

“It’s a long way from Malibu,” Tony commented.

Y/N laughed. “That seems like forever ago.”

It didn’t take too long for them to arrive at Vormir. As they landed, they took in the planet. It was sandy, yet there were ponds littered everywhere. The only thing that stood out was the large mountain like structure, not too far off.

“Under different circumstances, this would be totally awesome,” Tony commented.

“I thought you hated space?” Y/N questioned.

“Oh, I do. Doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate it.”

Tony suited up in his Iron Man armor before the couple exited the ship. The shrunk the ship back up and stored it in one of Y/N’s pockets. The two walked to the mountain and up it.

“I bet the raccoon didn’t have to climb a mountain,” Tony commented.

“Technically, he’s not a raccoon, you know,” Y/N replied.

“Whatever. He eats garbage.”

“Welcome,” a voice interrupted.

Tony’s helmet swiftly covered his face and he lifted his armored hand up, as Y/N aimed her gun up at the man.

“No,” she gasped when she saw the man’s voice. “Red Skull.”

“Y/N, daughter of Joseph,” the floating man continued. “Tony, son of Maria.”

“How the hell did you get here?”

“The Stones have chosen me as a guide. To you, and to all who seek the Soul Stone.”

“Oh, goodie. You tell us where it is,” Tony ordered. “Then we’ll be on our way.”

“Ah, if only it were that easy.”

Red Skull began floating away. Tony and Y/N shared a look before following after the hooded man. They were led to the edge of the cliff.

“What you seek lies in front of you,” the guide explained. “As does what you fear.”

Y/N peeked over the edge. “The Stone is down there,” she said. “I can feel it.”

“For one of you. For the other… in order to take the Stone, you must lose that which you love. An everlasting exchange. A soul, for a soul.” Then he disappeared.

“Where the hell did he go?” Tony asked, spinning around to look at him.

“A soul, for a soul,” Y/N whispered. She was dazed.

Suddenly, the Ancient One’s voice from many years ago was in her head, "The Soul Stone is the most hidden and unknown out of all the Stones. Very few know it’s location, or the powers it possesses. I don’t even know it’s location, but I do know the price it requires to retrieve it… A soul for a soul.”

Tony’s helmet disappeared back into his suit as he noticed Y/N’s expression. “Y/N?” He slowly came up to her. “Y/N? What’s going on?”

“I’m so sorry,” she tried not to cry as she teared up. She looked at him, shaking her head slightly. “I should have never let you come here. I’m so sorry.”

“Why are you sorry?”

“One of us has to die in order for us to get the Stone… That’s why Nebula’s sister never came back from here… Thanos sacrificed her.”

“No.” Tony shook his head. “No. Maybe he’s making this shit up.”

“No. I know he’s not. I… I was warned years ago, I just didn’t understand it then… Tony, I am so sorry.” A tear trailed down her cheek. “Please tell Morgan that I love her.”

“No, no, no, no. You are not going to be the one to do this. If anyone is going to sacrifice themselves, it’s me. You were meant for more, and our daughter needs you.”

“She needs you too. I can’t let you do this.”

“You don’t have a choice,” Red Skull interrupted. “You are what ends this once and for all. The Stones will not let you sacrifice yourself, or stop the necessary sacrifice.”

“See?” Tony shot out his hand, pointing to the guide. “Even he knows. I have to be the one to do this.”

“No.” Y/N let the tears fall freely now. “No. Morgan needs her father.”

“Not as much as she needs her mother.” Tony stepped closer, cupping her cheeks. “I have to do this. Let me be the hero she thinks I am.”

“You’re already a hero, Tony… to so many people, but no more than Morgan and I.”

“This will just seal it then.” He brushed some fingers against her cheek. “I love you, Y/N Rogers-Stark. Always have, always will.”

“I love you too.” Tony pulled her in for a heated kiss, slowly turning them so that his back was facing the cliff. “I’m so sorry… I’m so sorry.”

“I know. Here…” He tapped his chest, his suit disappearing into the reactor before he took it off his chest and handed it to Y/N. “You’re going to need this more than I will.”

“Tony—“

“Give it to Peter or Harley. Maybe make them fight for it. Or, keep it for Morgan. We both know that no matter what, she’ll follow in our footsteps.” He pulled her in for another kiss. “I’ll say hello to AJ for you.” Pushing Y/N away slightly, he caused her to stumble back and fall. “I love you. And remind Morgan that I love her 3000.”

“Please, Tony, I—“

“It will be okay. I promise.”

He looked in her eyes before letting himself fall back over the cliff.

“NOOO!” Y/N screamed, crawling to the edge of the cliff.

She looked over just as Tony hit the ground. Blood immediately began pooling around his head and drooling out of his mouth. Y/N bowed her head and sobbed.

“No,” she cried out. “Tony… No…"

A boom in the sky sent Y/N suddenly appearing in a pool of water. Still sobbing, she felt something in her hand. She opened her hand to reveal the Soul Stone. Clutching it close to her chest, she began sobbing more and a voice filled her ears.

“You are free to stop what is coming… It is time.”

next chapter >

It had to happen. Sorry guys. Please don’t hate me.

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frobin · 3 years ago

Note

Okey serious question here. How much do you actually believe that Oda ships Frobin? Like do you think he actually have like doodles/sketchs of them in a pairing kind of way? like for the strong world film riding the motorbug? (Personally i would love it to be true but he has stated one piece isn't about romance in that way)

Hey there anon! Thank you so much for your question and I hope I can answer it seriously enough. Also once more sorry for the late response. I felt like a question like that needs some research and that is what I did these last few days.

So... I think I'll start with the tl;dr because that way people can read that and ignore the rest.

So, long answer short: I 100% believe that Oda has one or more sketchbooks with drawings of his characters that are absolutely self-indulgent. I am 98% sure that he has drawn Franky and Robin in a romantic way at least once (and supported the ship). I am 80% sure he still is shipping FRobin.

Little disclaimer: I actually have no idea if any of this is true. I pull everything in my arguments out of my own experiences and knowledge and since I'm not a 46 year old Japanese Mangaka my perspective might be WAY OFF.

argument - reason- example - conclusion... behind the cut (or in the google doc)

So, why do I think that Oda has a secret sketchbook?

Simple answer is that he is an artist. He is drawing a lot and no artist will publish everything. That can have multiple reasons like imposter syndrome or because the artist thinks it’s not good or interesting enough or they just forget. There are even more reasons I forget and every person has their own.

For Oda I can imagine two big reasons as to why he would keep secret sketchbooks.

First: He is a horndog. You can skip this part if you don’t want to read about it, to the second reason.

Anyway, we know thanks to answers in the SBS, the way he likes to draw big-breasted women and how some of his characters are classified as perverts that he can be considered one too.

Let me show you a few of a few lewd SBS questions he likes to answer in a funny way:

Chapter 228, Page 46

D: How are ya, Odacchi? I know how much you like getting butt-naked, so this must be a favourite season for you. <3

O: Yes, yes. I just LOVE getting completely naked. In the summertime, after I take a bath I just run STRAIGHT OUTSIDE!! And when the girls' softball team running on the sidewalk looks over at me, they say, "Yup, it's really summer now!!" ... AS IF!! I'D GET ARRESTED!!!

(x)

Chapter 433, Page 68

D: If Lady Robin can use her Hana Hana Powers to make any part of her body sprout somewhere else, does that mean she can do it with her ample bosom as well? "Nyurin-zaki" (Breast Sprout) Boy, I'd like to take a hit from that sometime... P.N. Ero Ero no Mi Devil Fruit User.

O: "Ichirin-zaki" (Single Sprout) "Nirin-zaki" (Double Sprout) "Nyurin-zaki" (Breast Sprout) Very clever!! NO IT'S NOT!! STOP THAT!! I'm sure she CAN do it though ♡

(x)

Chapter 798, Page 64

D: Oddachi, I'll give you a pornographic book, so please answer my question. Sanji won't allow anyone to waste food, but what will he do if a woman does so? P.N. Smoker's Cigar

O: I think he would grab the plate and eat it up. Now please give me the pornographic book.

(x)

Nowadays I’m sure there is a focus on those lewder questions compared to the beginning because that is what 13 year old boys laugh about and we all know that is Oda's main demographic (of course).

I think a very good picture of that is given by Tekking101 in his breakdown video of SBS Volume 100.

youtube

“Let’s get diving into these questions (...) now, this is a huge moment. I mean, not many Manga manage to reach 100 Volumes, Okay? Now I know Oda usually starts these off with questions relating to boobs and things that don’t really… you know, aren’t really relevant but you know, this is a big celebration so we’re gonna dive right into it. I bet the most important things that we need to know about the One Piece Story are right here in these pages, okay? I printed them out. That is how important this is. So let’s start off, shall we? Epic voice, Barry!

‘Mister Oda, there is a UFO over there with huge big-breasted beauties on it. That memorable 100 Volume of the SBS is about to begin.’

[pause] Yeah, like the first five of these are all related to boobs in some way. You know what Oda? Sticking true to your guns! Godspeed, Sir Oda. Godspeed.”

(end at around 2:30)

So, Oda is a man who likes beautiful women and who draws.

Coming to the conclusion that he will draw his own characters in suggestive poses, naked and even doing adult stuff is not hard.

Obviously he would not show these sketches just around. He would probably keep them in a secret sketchbook that he keeps at a safe location. Maybe his wife and some close friends know about it? Maybe it is his and only his little secret.

I don’t think it would be unlikely to learn about this years into the future, maybe the next generation of Anime Fans will hear about this.

And it would not be the first time that something like this happened.

Not that long ago the daughter of Osamu Tezuka - groundbreaking Mangaka, known for his works of “Astro Boy”, “Kimba the white lion” and many more - found his adult Furry art. Source; Japanese article;

It’s a fact that many Mangaka did indeed start their career with art of the more risque kind and/or as doujinshi artists.

So again, I have no doubt that Oda, a known pervert, has one or more secret sketchbooks with „the p0rnography“ in it. Is there only hot stuff in there? Not necessarily.

The second reason to keep a secret sketchbook would be to collect information in there, that could be considered canon but he is not willing to use it in the Manga. Maybe they are not important enough or will be used later.

What am I imagining here? Anything that could be considered too weird for the normal sketchbook but isn‘t too risque. Funny things that might still not be „appropriate.“

Like a sketch of the male Strawhat ding-dongs with the sizes beside it. All the lewd jokes the fans did about Luffy's stretching qualities? I’m sure Oda thought about them too and drew that in the past if he had the time and it made him laugh enough.

But also maybe there are scenes in there that never made it in the Manga. The Strawhats interacting with each other in their daily lives, ideas for colorspreads and maybe chapter-titles. Oda probably has noted/sketched down a lot of unofficial stuff somewhere.

Another example, even an artist like Oda himself would have needed to exercise drawing two people kissing. Why not use Characters he thinks that might work out together?

Why not Franky and Robin? I would imagine he sketched up a few panels of Franky and Robin having a romantic date, going shopping together in Dressrosa, having a conversation that we never got to see because it was too on the nose.

Which brings us to the second point of me being very sure that Oda had drawn FrankyXRobin at one point.

I’m sure in those sketchbooks there is at least one drawing of them doing anything couple-related together. Again it does not have to be downright nasty but it could be them holding hands, kissing or even just Robin leaning onto Franky while reading, like all those fanarts that exist out there.

It’s not hard to imagine. Even for other Characters I think that is possible

And there might even be proof for that idea. The sketch of the Strong World movie you also mentioned, anon. The one movie that can be considered canon is Strong World. It was basically written/directed by Oda. Shiki the antagonist had an appearance in the Manga.

This sketch is drawn by Oda. Robin is holding onto Franky.

Can it be read as romantic? Yes. Can it be read as Robin holding onto Franky because there is nothing else to hold onto? Also Yes. But couldn't she just have used her power to keep herself secured on the bike without holding onto Franky? WELL YES. Could Oda never have thought in these circles like I do right now? I hope he did not because I hate it and I don’t wish it upon him.

In the movie Robin is NOT holding onto Franky. Now the really interesting thing - that is neither proof pro nor anti FRobin - is that we can see the sketch provided by Oda as a “between the scenes”.

In the movie Strong World the old trio is collecting information at the Pirate assembly. The next time we see them they use the Batta GT-7000 to slowly approach the destroyed village, which had been ravaged by the animals, and start to look for their friends. No need to hold onto Franky and no need for Brook to lean back. They are looking around.

The sketch is clearly not the same scene as the one we see in the movie.

In conclusion the drawing is indeed a between the scenes drawing. And yes if there exists one, who is to say there aren’t more?

Talking about Animal-Bikes...

Is there any meaning about the fact that in the opening scene (that is part of the talked intro after the opening ‘We Go’ - a huge thanks to antiherofangirl, ccb0nnet, JFL_Estudios and Maems, over at twitter!) Franky and Robin build another grasshopper-based vehicle? Maybe not but I still feel like it’s quite a callback.

Where did the idea to put this in the beginning come from? a) an editor had the idea inspired by Strong World; b) maybe it’s another sketch that Oda provided.

Neither seems very far-fetched in my opinion.

So yes, I am very sure that Oda has drawn things that we would consider FRobin.

Now to the last point (the first being Oda having a secret sketchbook, the second me arguing that Oda might have drawn FRobin).

As I said in the beginning I’m very sure that at one point Oda did and kinda that he still does ship Franky and Robin. Because even though every Interaction of two characters can be depicted as romantic or platonic, Oda used ROMANTIC TROPES with Franky and Robin.

They have never kissed on screen but we had

finishing each other's sentences

coordinated clothes

one using the others lap as pillow

hand on cheek caressing

and we can’t forget that Robin had answered Franky's invitation to ride on another animal-themed bike with a heart.

Edit: I didn‘t say anything about „no romance in OP“ so ask again if you want me to talk a bit about that. Sorry!

Those are things an author of Oda's level would not write or draw without being aware about how teasing this is. He has to be aware that every single line he draws will be analyzed to the end of the universe and back. People earn money by saying their opinion and interpretations about the Manga on Youtube.

These interactions are not something outlandish like “There was once an Anime Scene in which Robin was wearing something blue and exactly 28 episodes later Franky was wearing something violet and then 39 episodes later they both stood beside each other for exactly 69 seconds.”

Whenever I think about these facts, things that are not about interpreting but are factual, black ink on white paper but also about the little things, about how Frank and Robin help each other to become better, how they support each other… I want to say YES! ODA IS 100% on board! While in reality I’m 80% sure and 20% of me is wondering if I’m not actually analyzing too much into it. If maybe he really is abandoning ship. Maybe I will become the person who will curse his name and throw my Mangas and fanfictions in an active volcano?

I don’t know and it’s impossible to say what is going to happen.

And with that I've concluded this answer, and it only took me around 2k words and four days.

#FRobin #One Piece #One Piece Meta #Odas secret sketchbook #One Piece analysis #Adult themes #Notreally Frobin #long post #2k words #ask #modpost #kon #boy this was something #sorry about any mistakes

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ultimatetrashyfanfic · 3 years ago

Text

Wooow, first time writing a fic for this fandom. I’m stupidly nervous. Also I only just finished SDR2 so I’m just gonna make this a Non-Despair AU in case there’s any big events in the next canon games I don’t know about yet. Plus i want everybody to be alive and well (chapter four hurt). This is also the first time in years I’ve written any fanfiction, so forgive me if I’m rusty. I do love this pairing. Can be taken romantically or platonic in this one (as this isn’t my only ship for Hajime so I tried to keep it ambiguous). - Circle

Also posted to AO3 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/33332596

Warning: sickfic, descriptions of vomiting (I don’t go into much detail), nightmares/general anxiety.

Kazuichi was the only person Hajime knew with a worse sleep schedule than his own. For months he hadn’t realised - everybody had their own space on the island and Hajime was occupied enough with his own fatigue - but as Fuyuhiko saw how much Kazuichi grew to trust and confide in Hajime, he reported the issue.

“He’s like a fucking baby,” Fuyuhiko muttered bitterly. “If he gets tinkering on something he’ll be at it for days without sleeping. You gotta make sure he doesn’t overdo it. I can’t babysit that dumbass by myself.”

Hajime nodded, letting the insults sail over his head. Fuyuhiko may swear and yell and tell everyone over and over that Kazuichi and Hajime and Akane were the bane of his existence, but he was really the closest thing their group had to a mum friend.

“I’ll keep an eye out,” Hajime promised. It was an easy enough job. At least it gave him something to do. Whenever Hajime found himself unable to sleep now, he’d go hunting for Kazuichi. More often than not he’d be at the airport, dismantling or building things as the mood struck him, and all Hajime had to do was hook his collar and ignore the whining as he dragged his friend away to bed.

But that night was different. Hajime could sense it the second he walked into the airport. Since the other students rarely went in there, Kazuichi had taken over the space, scattering bits of parts and machines in various stages of completion. But he wasn’t hunched over with a fiddly screwdriver or hidden underneath some big contraption with only his legs visible. He was sitting against a large machine, resting his head against the cool metal, his thumb rubbing at the motor oil embedded under his bitten fingernails.

That was concerning. Kazuichi was never still. He was forever biting his fingernails or twirling his wrench idly in his hands or messing with the pockets on his jumpsuit, dragging the zips up and down over and over. It used to drive Hajime mad, but after knowing Kazuichi for so long Hajime could recognise it as a nervous response and he knew not to complain about it.

Because kazuichi was fragile. Not physically - he could easily haul heavy engine parts around and didn’t buckle when Akane jumped on his back - but it was pretty easy to upset him. When Fuyuhiko had started mocking Kazuichi over his obsession with Sonia - “you gotta bully the shitty behaviours out of people, Hajime.” - it had led to Kazuichi knocking at Hajime’s cottage in the middle of the night, tearfully asking him why Fuyuhiko hated him.

Sometimes Hajime really wished they had an Ultimate Therapist on the island.

So now, looking across the abandoned airport to Kazuichi behaving in a very not-Kazuichi way, Hajime proceeded with caution. He made sure to step purposefully, his footsteps loud on the linoleum floor; he’d once surprised Kazuichi from behind and almost received a wrench to his temple… as well as a burst eardrum from the screaming.

Kazuichi looked up, hastily fumbling with his glasses and shoving them into his pocket. He hated anyone seeing him wear them, so Hajime knew not to comment.

Usually Kazuichi’s face brightened when he saw any of his friends, but now his smile was wary, reserved. “Hey, Hajime,” he said, his voice thick with fatigue.

“When was the last time you slept?” Hajime asked bluntly. “Or ate?”

Kazuichi turned back to face the hunk of metal beside him (unidentifiable to Hajime), though he still didn’t start tinkering. “Not hungry.”

“That doesn’t answer my question at all.”

“I slept yesterday. I think… It’s Monday, right?”

Hajime sighed heavily and hooked the collar of Kazuichi’s jumpsuit with his fingers. “Come on, get up. Bedtime. You’re not even doing anything.”

“Mmn. Can’t seem to focus tonight.”

“That’s because you’re exhausted. Go to bed.”

“Okay! Jeez, man, you’re acting like my mother,” Kazuichi whined, sounding more like himself.

The pair walked out into the cool night air together, Hajime taking hold of Kazuichi’s sleeve when he stumbled. Just how long had he been awake? He was acting like a zombie.

“Fuyuhiko said you weren’t sleeping,” Hajime grumbled. “You should take better care of yourself.”

“Fuyuhiko said it? So why did he make you come get me? Are you sure he doesn’t hate me?” Souda pressed.

“Yes, I’m sure. I told you, he was only harsh because he wanted you to leave poor Sonia alone.”

“Well. I have been, haven’t I?” he muttered.

Hajime assumed that was meant to be a rhetorical question, but it came out like Kazuichi was looking for reassurance. It hadn’t occurred to him how often Souda seemed to do that, as if he was worried anything he said would elicit a bad reaction.

“I’ve even been nice to Gundham,” Kazuichi said, much more irritably. “Though that’s a damn uphill battle, Hajime, I’m telling you. I don’t know what the hell he’s talking about half the time.”

Hajime snorted. Watching Souda trying to interact with Gundham was becoming a running joke between the other students now. There was always a five second pause when Gundham finished talking before Kazuichi could reply, his face contorted as he hastily tried to translate.

“You’ll get used to Gundham. I didn’t understand him much at first either.” Hajime frowned as Kazuichi wrapped his arms around himself, shivering. “Are you cold?”

“I’m freezing. Maybe I do need to sleep better. I’m not feeling so good…” He stumbled again as they went across the uneven boardwalk to the cabins, bumping Hajime’s shoulder.

Hajime caught hold of him instinctively - then paused for a second. He quickly cupped both hands over Kazuichi’s cheeks.

“H-Hajime?!” Souda reeled back so fast he almost toppled right off the platform. “What the hell are you doing?”

“You have a fever, Kazuichi,” Hajime groaned. “You’re burning up. That’s why you don’t feel good.”

“I do?” Souda cupped his own cheeks contemplatively. “Huh. That makes sense. I couldn’t focus properly all evening.”

Hajime sighed heavily. Souda could be so oblivious at times it was hard to believe he was so talented with his machines. He seemed so much more confident when he spoke about that stuff. When he’d started getting closer to Kazuichi, Hajime once asked about some little mechanical toy Souda was making - and Souda’s face had just lit up. He talked Hajime’s ear off for a good fifteen minutes about every little piece of the toy and how it worked. Hajime didn’t understand the majority of it, but he always made sure to ask Kazuichi about his various projects after that. Souda was delighted every time, his words tripping over each other with excitement and his eyes shining like beacons. For a second Hajime wondered if that was how it felt to be Sonia.

“Well, you’d better come with me for now,” Hajime said. “I know you don’t have any first aid supplies in your cabin, and we don’t need Mikan to tell us you have some standard virus. I’ve got painkillers and fever reducers.” Hajime held onto Kazuichi by the elbow, guiding him along to the correct cabin. He seemed beyond argument. He flopped onto Hajime’s bed as soon as they went inside, curling onto his side and closing his eyes.

Hajime hovered over him, feeling a pang of anxiety. He wasn’t used to caring for any sick people except Nagito, and caring for Nagito was a wholly bizarre experience all around. Hajime had never seen anybody swing so wildly between self-deprecating, passive aggressive and strangely clingy when he was forced to babysit a sick Nagito. Hajime figured Kazuichi might fall into the clingy category.

Hajime grabbed fever reducers from the bathroom cabinet and went to crouch beside his bed, shaking Kazuichi’s shoulder. Maybe it was the fever or the several days without sleep, but Kazuichi already seemed to be breathing deeper. There was a red flush across both his cheekbones, garishly bright against his pink hair. Hajime checked his forehead again; it was burning.

“Hey, dude, wake up. You’ve gotta take some medicine and go back to your own cabin,” Hajime said, shaking Kazuichi’s shoulder harder. Kazuichi whined irritably, reaching out a clumsy hand without opening his eyes. He managed to find Hajime’s face and tried to shove him away weakly.

“Kazuichi!” Hajime caught hold of his wrist, sighing. “You have motor oil on your hands. Look, I don’t care if you don’t want to take medicine, but go sleep in your own cabin. This happens to be my bed.”

Kazuichi didn’t move, breathing deeply. Hajime wasn’t sure if he was actually sleeping or just ignoring him.

“I kissed Sonia,” Hajime lied.

No response. Hm. Maybe Kazuichi really was asleep.

Well, what was Hajime meant to do now? He didn’t feel mean enough to boot his sick friend off the bed. He supposed he could go stay in Souda’s room, but he didn’t know where his key was, and he didn’t want to go rifling through Kazuichi’s pockets for it while he was sleeping - and maybe Souda needed somebody with him in case his fever got worse. Fevers could turn nasty, right? Not that Hajime would be any use, but he could go get Mikan.

Sighing resignedly, Hajime went to the unoccupied side of his bed, lying back to back with Kazuichi. Most of the bedsheets were trapped under his sick companion no matter now Hajime yanked them, but Souda was so hot Hajime was soon uncomfortably warm. The sleeping boy was taking up a lot of the bed too; he had Kazuichi’s hair in his face and elbows jabbing his ribs no matter what sleeping position Hajime tried. He sighed again. “You’re an utter pain to deal with, Kazuichi,” he mumbled into his pillow. “You need to take care of yourself before you get really sick.”

Hajime, though sure he’d never be able to even doze in this situation, must have slept at some point, because he woke with a start to find the bed shaking so violently he almost toppled off it. In his drowsy state Hajime wondered for a second if the island had any seismic activity, but the earthquake seemed confined to the bed alone. He sat up and fumbled to turn on the bedside lamp, rubbed the sleep from his eyes and turned to his sleeping friend.

Kazuichi was shaking violently, curled into a foetal position. His face had bleached several shades whiter and his fists were clenched tight, crumpling the bedsheets. His brow was furrowed and he made intermittent whines in the back of his throat, barely audible. Whatever dream was playing in his feverish head, it clearly wasn’t a pleasant one.

“Kazuichi,” Hajime called, shaking the sleeping man’s shoulder. Hajime could feel the heat radiating through Kazuichi’s clothes. “Come on, man, wake up.”

When he received no response, he shook harder, momentarily panicked. It was a mistake. Kazuichi jolted awake with a scream, the momentum sending him tumbling right off the bed onto the floor. He banged his head hard on the skirting board.

“Shit! Fuck, Souda, are you okay?” Hajime cried, hurrying over to Kazuichi. Souda scrambled backwards in a panic, clonking his head all over again when he hit the wall. His eyes hadn’t focused yet and he was breathing far too quickly. Hajime was starting to think he really should fetch Mikan.

“Kazuichi, it’s just me. Hajime. You know, your…” He paused, cringing. Only Kazuichi ever called them by that dumb name. “Your soul friend.”

Kazuichi looked up, locking eyes with Hajime. He didn’t stop shaking, but his breathing calmed slightly. For what felt like several minutes, both boys stared helplessly at each, unsure what to do or say. Souda swallowed thickly and finally whispered in a hoarse, rasping voice, “I’m gonna puke.”

“What?” That certainly broke Hajime out of the awkward staring contest. He grabbed hold of Souda by the wrist and yanked him across the bedroom to the bathroom, shoving him firmly towards the toilet. He turned to leave - he didn’t want to witness any of that - when something snagged onto the back of his shirt.

“Are you serious?” Hajime groaned. Souda felt too nauseated to dare opening his mouth, but he tugged insistently at Hajime’s shirt.

Hajime paused. Part of him - maybe even most of him - really wanted to brush Kazuichi’s hand away and flee the room before anything gross started happening. But Souda looked so… pathetic, sitting there trying not to vomit, still shaky and tearful from the nightmare, his hair tangled across his sweaty face.

Damn it. Hajime shouldn’t have looked at him.

“Fine, fine,” he sighed, kneeling beside Souda on the bathroom floor. He hastily gathered Kazuichi’s messy hair away from his face as the sick boy leaned further over the toilet. “You owe me big time for this. Especially when I end up catching this from you.”

Grumbling aside, Hajime stayed, managing not to complain or pull too many faces when Kazuichi was vomiting. He focused on holding Souda’s hair out of the way, glad he had one job he could manage. This comforting thing was way out of his depth. Souda kept one hand reaching backwards to clasp Hajime’s shirt, as if he didn’t quite trust him not to run away.

When the retching finally tapered off, Hajime released Souda’s hair and reached up to flush the toilet, grimacing. “Better?”

Kazuichi made a noise between a whine and a sob, head resting on the toilet seat.

“Well, at least it’s over. I’m gonna go grab you some water, okay?”

He stood up, but Kazuichi hastily lifted his head, looking outraged. “You’re leaving me? I could be dying here!”

“You’re not dying, Souda. Honestly, sometimes I think you should’ve been Ultimate Drama Queen.”

“Stay with me.” Kazuichi shuffled away from the toilet and latched onto Hajime leg.

“Souda, it will take me literally thirty seconds to grab a bottle of water. Now get off.” Hajime tried to yank his leg free, but Souda had a strong grip, even when ill.

“Nope. Don’t leave.”

Hajime sighed heavily. “Then get up and come back to the bed.”

Souda slumped down onto the cool linoleum floor, making sure to keep his arms around Hajime’s ankle. “Don’t wanna move. Everything hurts.”

“Oh, for fuck sake!” Hajime tried to pull Souda up himself, but Souda let his body go limp, sprawling across the bathroom floor, and Hajime couldn’t lift him up when he was dead weight like that.

“You know that’s exactly what toddlers do when they don’t want you picking them up,” Hajime snapped. Honestly, this was almost as bad as Nagito. Why did everybody mess with him when they were sick?

“I can see why. It’s very effective,” Kazuichi muttered.

“I could just leave, you know. Just say fuck it and let you lie there on your own.”

“Don’t.” The jesting tone had disappeared from Souda’s voice. He looked close to tears again, flat on his back and staring up at Hajime pleadingly.

Hajime tried to hold onto his frustration, but he couldn’t. Not with Kazuichi looking at him like that. He sighed and sat on the floor beside Souda, putting a hand on his forehead. “You’re burning up.”

“Keep your hand there,” Kazuichi mumbled. “It’s cold.”

“Fine. But if you let me leave I could get you a cold cloth for your head.”

“Noooo…”

“Okay, okay.” Hajime paused. Souda’s eyelids were drooping again. If he wanted to ask, Hajime had to do it quickly. “Hey, Kazuichi..?”

“Mn?”

“What happened? Earlier, I mean.”

“I puked.”

“No, you dope. Earlier than that. When you woke up. You seemed really terrified. Were you dreaming?” Hajime was already regretting asking. Kazuichi was sick and over-emotional. They were sitting on the bathroom floor, for God’s sake. Nothing good could come of emotional conversations on a bathroom floor.

There was another silence, so long Hajime checked to see if Kazuichi had dozed off. His eyes were wide open now, staring at the ceiling. “It was just a dream. That’s all.”

“Do you remember what it was about?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Kazuichi mumbled.

Hajime sighed. “Look, it’s fine if you don’t want to talk about it. But it clearly freaked you out really bad. If there’s something you’re worried about or something that’s scaring you, I can-“ Hajime stopped as Kazuichi sat up abruptly. He kept his face turned to the wall, but Hajime heard the sniffles, saw his shoulders start shaking.

“Fuck,” Hajime muttered helplessly. “Kazuichi, I’m sorry. I’ll just be quiet. You don’t have to tell me anything. I’m messing this all up, I’m such a fucking idiot sometimes.”

“I’m a fucking idiot,” Kazuichi sobbed. “So stupid I still dream about him! Why can’t he just go away!” He went on talking, but he was howling too hard for Hajime to understand. He’d seen Souda cry countless times before, but this was different somehow. This wasn’t just wailing because some girl he liked had turned him down. This was raw, painful terror.

“Hey hey, calm down! You’re gonna make yourself sick again,” Hajime said, trying hard to keep the panic out of his own voice. He took hold of Kazuichi’s wrists, pulling him gently away from the wall. He’d meant to lay Souda down in the same position as before, but Souda instantly fell against Hajime’s chest, practically knocking him over.

“Right. Um. You’re okay. You’re safe here,” Hajime mumbled, patting his sobbing friend awkwardly. He wasn’t used to embracing people. It felt strange and unnatural but not unpleasant - and Souda clearly needed a hug more than anything else right now. “Souda, breathe. It’s okay. You’re safe. The fever is probably making it worse. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked about the nightmare.”

“Home,” Kazuichi gasped.

“Huh?”

“I was dreaming about being back at home.”

Oh God. Where was that Ultimate Therapist again? Hajime didn’t know how to handle this. He couldn’t sort his own problems, let alone anyone else’s. “Oooh. Okay. Shit. Your dad..? You mentioned him once before.”

“Don’t. Don’t talk about it.”

“Okay. Sorry. So your dream was a memory? When he… hurt you?” Hajime guessed.

The sobbing, which had been gradually calming, quickly returned to near-hyperventilating.

“Sorry, sorry. Breathe, okay?” Hajime’s own heart was thumping hard. This was way more than he could handle. “Look… You’re away from there. He’s literally across an ocean. It’s just me and you here. Because you usurped my bed tonight.”

Kazuichi gave a snort that could’ve been a laugh. “It’s not… not usually this bad,” he said, his voice still jerky with sobs. “I-I can handle it on my own. The nightmares.”

“Fevers make nightmares worse. I think. I’d have to check with Mikan,” Hajime said. “But at least you were here this time.” He was surprised to find he really meant that. He couldn’t bear to think of Souda dealing with all that on his own.

They sat in silence for a long time, until Souda’s sobs died down to sniffles, his head still resting on Hajime’s chest. The front of Hajime’s shirt was now damp with tears and snot, and Souda’s feverish body was like a furnace, but he didn’t suggest they move. After a long time he found he’d wound his arms around Kazuichi’s shoulders.

“Are you still awake?” Hajime whispered eventually.

“Mn. Barely…”

“Listen, this is important. If you have dreams like that any other night, you can come over here. If you want. Just knock hard so I wake up.”

Kazuichi shifted in his arms to look at Hajime’s face. “You don’t have to do that. Don’t feel like you’re stuck with me.”

“Maybe I don’t mind being stuck with you,” Hajime retorted.

A ghost of a smile flickered across Kazuichi’s face, though he was still red and tear-stained. “Then you’re fucking crazy.”

“It’s not crazy to want to be your friend, Souda. So will you ask me for help next time you dream something like that? Please?”

Kazuichi wound his arms around Hajime’s middle and squeezed so hard it made Hajime gasp. “Okay. I’ll come get you.” He paused. “Thanks, Hajime.”

Kazuichi fell asleep soon after, still pinning Hajime to the bathroom floor with his weight. And though Hajime would moan about how sore and stiff he was the next morning, he was still glad Souda came to him for help. Just about.

#danganronpa 2 #danganronpa #my writing #kazuichi soda #hajime hinata #dr emeto #emeto tw #emeto #dr sickfic #sickfic #fever #writing #our writing #mod circle

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monday-headache · 3 years ago

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Hey Simon! Thank you for the amazing ask <3 Right back at you:

I love that you're writing/arting about characters that have never met in canon (Gaige and Sasha, Fiona and Scarlett). What drew you to writing these characters together? And are there any more that you'd love to explore one day? :D

Hey Sarah, glad it made you smile. I want to have more interaction with the fandom so I’ll try to make this a regular, so please be free to send me questions whenever. I’d love to read your thoughts ;)

And Omg, that’s a fantastic question as well but, be aware, this is gonna be an essay as well.

Mhh where to start, where to start.

So first things first, My headcanon of why I think Gaige and Sasha would be best friends started a pretty long while ago, way before I even got gently pushed towards the Idea of really starting to write about it in the first place. Because you must know, even though Strays is my first longshot, it is also my very first fanfc I’ve ever written in like ever. So no matter how shitty, great or whatever it will turn out to be or how well others will be, Strays has and will always have a special place in my heart. And I’m not gonna rush things either, even when the fandom will die out, my Ideas for it will flow ;)

But yeah how it started. To put it simply Gaige was my first character In Borderlands ever that I played myself. I knew about the Lore of 1 and I’ve played 1 with a friend by the time it came out, but I played 1 myself AFTER I finished 2 So that may be a big reason, why I have such an open spot for Gaige. But also because she is fun, quirky extreme, punky, loves robots and tech... to put it simple a lot of traits I really love about a character. Her backstory with the science fair was so fresh and funny, and it may be one of my favorite spoken dialogue interactions heard over echo cassette’s

Then after Bl2 my love for Borderlands continued, played 1, played TPS and then... There was Tales, and by god do I loved Tales, and I hella still do. You probably know the feeling yourself. And with the love for the game, came a huge love for it’s cast. Like seriously I think besides Tector there isn’t really a character where I was going like, “ugh this one is trash” on the contrary. And besides my obvious love for the main 2 characters, there was a big love for the Deutagonist’s of this masterpiece. Namely Sasha and Loaderbot.

Loaderbot may have officially taken the spot for me as most favorite Robot in video game history ever (and Gortys for the most precious character ever). Like his whole segment of kidnapping them, forcing them to tell the truth, only to show how much he had grieved, how betrayed he felt and that he did all of tha for his loved ones. Man say what you will about him, but damn he was written perfectly. I was blown away.

Secondly is of course, as you might have guessed it Sasha. I could go lengths for her too, how much I love and admire her character, how real she felt as a sister, a pandoran and last but not least as a human. Sasha felt to me like the most well rounded out character of the 6 (pls don’t hate me for it guys) From the punk rebellious attitude, to learning that she had an anti Hyperion pirate radio, that she used to broadcast bad things that happens in her neighbourhood, to her adapting her morals and learn that even in the most corrupt organisations there are still normal people struggling with their own life, and then progressing from it. And lastly after everything was at loss, the money the plan, she was willing to sacrifice her whole life for a dear friend/s, even on her dying breath putting both Rhys and her Sister at ease and in her last moments. Amazing.

Oooh boy and that was just the prelude to it all XD

After that I noticed a lot of similarities, between characters. Sasha and Loaderbot for instance are both pragmatic, put the lives of their loved ones over their own, love tech, are socially open people while holding back on information and emotion. Not to mention the scenes in 2 and 3 and also 4 and 5 where it is slightly hinted how well Sasha and Loaderbot work together, without sharing much words. So naturally the Idea was born that Sash and LB became quite close.

And the same goes for Sasha and Gaige. I was actually surprised that nobody (not entirely true, I saw one fanart of it) seemed to made that connection before as it was so obvious to me. So basically Sasha is a softer version of Gaige, in many terms. They both have a big heart for tech and especially guns. They both hosted a small radio broadcast that blew up in their region over night. Both are anarchist’s who spread the word for awareness, how fucked up the company war actually is. Both are not really good at their aim. Both call robots as their closes’t friends. Both share a deep hatred for Handsome Jack and his doings. Both fought a giant ass Vault Monster and nearly died in the process of doing so. Both got screwed up big time and now have a huge bounty on their head... So you see the list goes on, and honestly the more I write them, the more similarities I notice, both hc wise and canon wise. So there more I thought about it, and noticed similarites the more I fell in love with the Idea of them becoming close. And from there the Idea was born, that they probably met on a job ( the most likely scenario in the Borderlands universe). It had to be before BL3 of course, and to be after Tales naturally so that only put one timeline in the focus, Commander Lillith.

To be honest, I didn’t expect everything turning out so big. Like seriously I orifinally planed like 8k words or so. Now I’m dangling on the Idea of having 13 chapters and a big ass finally, a neat wrap up of everything and even a possible epilogue XD Yeah, that wasn’t what I expected either but damn do I love doing it.

Like seriously my headcanons only just gotten bigger and bigger. From a whole nebula system in the galaxy, to regions I created in my own mind for it, to even complex backstorys. Like why Sasha wears a headband, why she loves guns so much, what happened to her and Fi’s parents, why she was raised by her aunt, what does Felix have to do with it, Why Gaige has this kicks of both sudden depression and manical behavior. Why she’s so close to her dad, but her mom wasn’t even mentioned once (but teased), why she wanted to become a wedding planer, and why she is so obsessed with robots and margarita mix. I think one day, this thing will turn into a tabletop game or something XD

So estimated 20k words on my answer later and now we are going for my own created ship Scarleona. Don’t worry, as much as I like to gosh about that too, it wont take as long I prommy.

Scarleona was created in a sudden urge while thinking about what happpend to Fiona while Strays happened. And similar to Gaige and Sasha, Scarleona was born from a dynamic. Especially of those from two Ladybosses with Silvertongue and speech 100XD Fiona and Scarlett may have become my favorite Fiona ship (no offense everybody) because of how well they play off each other. Fiona is a con artist, her whole life she was used to swindle, to play it cool and by ear, go with the flow, and expect the unexpected. So here core idea is that she is manupulating people by LYING to them.

Scarlett on the other hand is similar while also the complete opposite to it. She is backstabby, plays with her charm and most importantly she is dead honest while tricking people. In fact even so honest that people don’t even realised that they got tricked even though she told it several times before. And this dynamic is so fascinating to me. You see, Fiona has almost an answer an action for everything prepared, but the idea that her winning honesty, is mind puzzling to Fiona is so perfect. @michellespenscratchz wrote me a drabble several months ago and I think that line describes it just perfect

“So, let me see if I got this straight,” Fiona tilted her head inquisitively at Captain Scarlett. “You needed these Vault Hunters’ help to find this treasure for you. So you…just asked them?”

“That’s right.” Scarlett nodded, inspecting her hook nonchalantly.

“Even though they knew you wanted it for yourself?” Fiona asked.

“Indeed,” Scarlett replied.

“And they…” Fiona blinked, “…knew you planned on fighting them for it once they had it.”

“Of course they did,” Scarlett shrugged. “I told them as much.”

“You told them?”

“Yes.”

“And they helped you anyway?”

“Precisely.” Scarlett turned her hat against the blistering wind. “I fear I don’t quite grasp what about this is so difficult to grasp, Fiona dear.”

“Huh.” Fiona cast her gaze out across the expanse of Pandoran horizon. “I guess I just gotta–I dunno–rethink my whole life right now.”

So yeah, that was basically it. I kinda diagressed and didn’t want to hurt your eyes more looking at the long ass text, but please if you have some more questions to it, pls hit me. I love to gosh about it <3

And thank you so much <3 This was hella fun

#Borderlands #Tales from the Borderlands #Strays of the Pack #Scarleona #Sasha the Kid Sister #Gaige the Mechromancer #I still need a great name for Sash and Gaige's dynamic #maybe I should go with Wolfpack for now till something better crosses my mind.#Fiona the Con Artist #Captain Scarlett #Thank you #<3

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eryiss · 3 years ago

Text

Ship: Freed x Laxus

Rating: Teen

Prompt: Two Bros Chilling in A Hot Tub/Lightning Struck

Summary: Freed knew he had a lot to learn about being a professional wizard, and when he was paired up with Laxus for a mission he expected to learn a lot. He didn't expect to spend a day with him in a hot tub, and he certainly didn't expect to get an entirely unrelated education about life and about love.

Notes: Hi everyone. Fraxus Week is at an end, and I really enjoyed writing everything this year. The AU's were a lot of fun and canon writing it always enjoyable, I hope you liked what I've written, and make sure to look at @fuckyeahfraxus to see everyone else has made.

Links: Chapter One ||| Event Masterlist ||| Archive of Our Own, Fanfiction

Chapter Two

Laxus was many things, but patient wasn't one of them. Honestly, it was miraculous he'd lasted a week before it had come to this.

He stormed into the apartment building that Freed lived in, walked to the address Makarov had given him, and slammed his hand against it three times; loudly. He was bouncing from foot to foot slightly, hearing the shifting of movements from behind the door as Freed walked towards it. He was taking his time, and Laxus felt the urge to slam his hand on the door again a few times to make him hurry the hell up.

For a week, Laxus had wanted to do this. He'd stopped himself for seven long, long days, but it was getting too much. Laxus couldn't go to sleep another night knowing that Freed was living twenty minutes away. That if the rune mage stopped with this shit, they could be repeating that kiss.

That fucking kiss!

He'd never been kissed like that. He doubted that anyone had been kissed like that. It had been so… so… The words couldn't come to Lauxs. It was all encompassing. Overwhelming. It was like standing in the centre of a thunder storm, letting the lightning burn across his skin and explode in his throat as he consumed it. Freed had been against him, attached to him, but battling him in a way Laxus couldn't understand.

Realistically, he knew it was for the mission, but he couldn't help but think there was more to the kiss. He'd caught a few of Freed's glances at his body – how Freed hadn't noticed Laxus doing the same thing was miraculous – and the reactions throughout the day seemed to suggest Freed had been just as affected as Laxus had.

But then the rune mage had just shut off. Any semblance of relaxation was gone the moment they pulled apart, and all Freed seemed capable of thinking of and speaking about was their mission. He spent the next hour avoiding Laxus, stating that they'd spent enough time together for plausibility and that it would be better to spread out. Laxus had agreed because he wasn't going to push things if Freed wanted to focus on his work then he could understand it, but for the rest of the afternoon he'd found his gaze drifting to him whenever his mind wandered. The press of the man's lips against his was like a haunting: inescapable and unforgettable. Laxus had wanted to storm over to the man, kiss him properly and say 'to hell' with the mission.

He'd never felt like this before. It was exhilarating.

But when the mission had ended, and Freed fell back on his habit of taking missions and spending no time in the guildhall, Laxus realised that Freed was avoiding him. Laxus was damn insulted by that.

Freed was into him, Laxus knew that, and he hoped that the passion with which he'd kissed Freed and the many times he'd lost focus because he was checking Freed out was enough for Freed to know the attraction was reciprocated. Freed didn't, for a second, seem to be a coward. Not about fighting and not about his own feelings, so why the hell was he avoiding Laxus? It took Laxus a full week of thinking over the situation for him to realise what was actually happening.

Laxus was an old hand at wizardry, and knew how to have a life outside of work. Freed didn't. Hell: when Laxus had reported the mission's success to Makarov, he'd asked the old man why he'd chosen Freed to spy on him, and he'd been told Freed needed to balance his work and life better, and Laxus was meant to help him.

So, as he stood at Freed's door, Laxus was going to do that.

The door opened, and Freed was revealed. He was wearing nothing but his white shirt, unbuttoned and sightly ruffled, and the trousers he'd worn during work. For a moment, Laxus allowed himself to relish in the sight off the man in a rumpled and domestic state, with his hair tied up high and his eyes still sleep worn because of the early morning. He shook his focus and met Freed's eyes.

"Laxus," Freed said with a frown. "What are you doing here?"

"Bored of this whole avoiding me shit," Laxus grunted, placing a hand on the wall to lean against it. "Pack a bag, we're going on a mission for the weekend."

"Excuse me?" Freed said, almost laughing. Laxus understood that – coming to the man's house unannounced and demanding his presence for a weekend was pretty arrogant – but he wasn't going to let that be an excuse. "What makes you think I'll do that simply because you tell me?"

"Because I haven't finished the paper work from that spa mission, and since I was meant to teach ya how to be a mage during the mission and it's not over, I have authority over you," Laxus grinned, knowing that Freed was not going to take that level of bullshit. He smirked when Freed went to argue back, and cut in before he could. "Besides, if you don't come with me, I won't be going on any missions with you, and all that S-Class money goes away. Wouldn't want that, huh?"

It was a dick move, but a means to an end. Freed glared at him, and that was all the agreement Laxus needed.

"Train station at nine AM," He informed Freed, turning, and walking down the hall. He spoke without looking back. "See ya there."

---

The train juddered to a stop, and Laxus felt his stomach settle almost instantly. He closes his eyes, swallowed down the small rising of bile that crept up his throat, and ignored the amused expression that Freed was looking at him with.

"Feeling a little sick, Laxus?" He taunted gently, and Laxus faux glared.

"Peachy," He grumbled.

Any lingering annoyance from earlier in the morning had gone when Freed had reached the train station. Laxus had brought him a coffee, bagel, and pastry as a peace offering. He'd been forceful about getting Freed to leave with him - he felt like it was necessary to kick Freed into action - but he couldn't have Freed pissed at him. If Laxus was right, and played his cards well, he might end up with Freed before the weekend was over. He wanted to do it properly.

"You look it," Freed taunted, taking his bag from the overhead rack and handing Laxus his rucksack. "May I know what the mission is now?"

"Not yet," Laxus dismissed the request.

They climbed off the train, and Laxus was thankful to be on solid ground again. The town they'd arrived in was a small one, tucked away high in the mountains; something that had not helped Laxus' motion sickness. He'd looked the town up on one of the guild's many maps before leaving, so knew exactly where to go and started following the roads without hesitation. Freed kept in step with him, clearly waiting for Laxus to offer some explanation.

He wouldn't get it. Laxus had spoken with Makarov about Freed once the mission had finished. The main thing he'd learned was that Freed needed to sort his shit out, because he was damn near hitting his limit. He also seemed like the kind of guy to refuse help, so Laxus was going to make sure he couldn't.

Once they got to the hotel, Laxus would confess. Until then, they were on a 'mission'.

"Could you at least tell me the type of mission?" Freed pushed the matter because the smartass needed to know everything. It was kinda funny seeing him getting pissy about it. "Eradication, interrogation, reconnaissance or escort?"

"You actually use those terms?" Laxus quirked an eyebrow as he chuckled, and subsequently walked into a wall of runes. He stumbled back, and rubbed his nose as he mumbled "You quick castes that? Damn."

"Why are we here Laxus," Freed insisted

"Who trained you how to cast, because that was impressive," Laxus ignored the question, walking forward when the wall dissipated. "You're gonna be a damn powerhouse in a few years."

"Answer the-" Freed cut himself off. "What do you mean 'going to be'?"

"You think you're powerful now?" Laxus taunted.

"I know that I am," Freed narrowed his eyes for a moment, before laughing at himself. "You're rather good at distracting people, aren't you? Perhaps you're smarter than I thought you'd be."

"You thought I'd be dumb?" Laxus asked.

"Yes," Freed said unflinchingly, and Laxus barked out a laugh.

"You should spend more time with the rest of the people in the guild," He smiled. "You're as much an asshole as the rest of 'em."

"How flattering," Freed said, voice droll. "You still haven't answered my question though. Why are we here?"

Laxus could see the hotel, and decided that it would be best to not push his luck with Freed. He thought about how he'd say it, and decided that he might as well jump into it rather than pissing around and avoiding the issue. Hell, if he couldn't be honest he'd be a damn hypocrite.

"I lied about the mission," He admitted, and Freed frowned. "We're here for a weekend break."

"A what?" Freed asked as if the concept was foreign to him. Given how much he worked, it might be.

"A weekend break. The place we did the mission for has a branch out here, and as a thank you for our work they gave up some coupons that we can use here," Laxus explained, reaching into his coat pocket, and pulling out the two tickets, handing one to Freed. "You clearly need a break from the work before you get sloppy on a mission and it ends up getting you hurt, and I'm not gonna turn down a free weekend in a luxury resort."

"And why didn't you tell me this from the beginning?" Freed demanded, clearly irritated.

"Because you wouldn't have come if you didn't think you'd make any money from it," Laxus shrugged as they walked into the lobby of the reception. "Like I said this morning, until the paper work's done, I'm meant to be teachin' you how to be a mage. Biggest obstacle for that right now is you not treating yourself right. Until you do it on your own, I'm gonna force you to do it."

They were at the front desk, and Laxus was speaking with the receptionist, before Freed could get a word in. Laxus made sure to confirm that both rooms would be required, and the receptionist assured him that their cleaning staff would have them prepared as quickly as they could, telling them both that they had access to all the amenities and facilities the resort had to offer in the meantime. Laxus thanked him, signed the book to confirm his booking, and stepped back to look at Freed. Again, he spoke before Freed had the chance.

"You don't need to live mission to mission anymore," His voice was softer now. "If you don't give yourself a break, you burn out. I'm sorry I lied, I'll make it up to you somehow, but enjoy this place while you're here. You put in a lot of effort since you joined the guild, treat this as your reward."

Freed looked like he wanted to argue, but halted. He sighed, ran a hand through his hair and nodded. "I would enjoy a break."

"I know," Laxus said bluntly, placing a hand on Freed's shoulder. "And when you're ready, we're gonna talk about what happened on the mission. Because I don't wanna forget it ever happened, or push past it, or do whatever it is you thought could happen when you were ignoring me."

"I wasn't-" Freed began, but Laxus stopped him.

"We'll talk later," He said softly, before grinning. "I'm gonna take a swim. You can come with me if you wanna ogle me again, but I think a massage would do you good. You look really tired, basically dead to the world."

Laxus was walking away with a grin before Freed could respond to the teasing, and when he came face to face with another runic wall, he simply laughed. His stomach did a little flip when he heard Freed laughing too.

---

"I'm ready to talk now," Freed said, and Laxus nodded.

It was the evening now, and the two men had spent the day in different parts of the resort. Sometimes apart, sometimes together, Laxus had underwent almost all of the treatments available, as well as spending a good few hours in the pool, sauna, and hot springs. He'd retreated to his room when the relaxation had brought on a bout of tiredness, and had been napping until Freed's knocking on the door woke him. He'd adorned a robe and answered it, feeling weirdly excited when he'd seen it was Freed.

He looked good. Obviously, he had made use of the facilities, as he looked well rested, without the stress marks that bordered his eyes, and was holding himself looser. His hair was damp and tied up high, perhaps from a recent shower, and Laxus again revelled in the sight of a domestic version of Freed Justine.

"Take a seat," Laxus said, motioning to the chair as he sat on the foot of the bed.

"Thank you," Freed said, voice relaxed and without fear. Good. "When you said we needed to talk, I assume you meant about the kiss."

"I did," Laxus agreed. "But before you start, I wanna say something. Give you a piece of advice about being a mage that it takes a lot of time for most people to get," Freed thought for a moment, but made a gesture for Laxus to continue. "When you become a mage, you give up your safety, your stability, and your time. Sometimes you don't know when you'll next be paid, and sometimes you don't know if you'll make it out of a mission alive. When you get into wizardry you have to change how you live, act fast and do what your gut's telling you. Your instincts aren't just important in the mission, they're important in your personal life too. Sometimes you just have to follow them."

"And this relates to the kiss how?"

"If you don't want to be with me, then go with that. Don't worry about offending me, or pissing me off, or me stopping the missions together, or anything. If that kiss was just for the missions, and I've misread things, then don't fuck around being polite. Rip the band aid off and tell me straight."

"And if you didn't misread things?"

Laxus grinned, leaning back slightly. "Then follow your instincts."

Freed did just that, by standing up, tipping Laxus chin upwards, and bringing him into another earth shatteringly perfect kiss. And this time, there was no doubt. The kiss was for him, and there would be many others.

---

Ten Years Later

Laxus groaned as he submerged himself into the bubbling warm water. It was late at night in the early spring, and the hot tub he submerged his body into was in beautifully warm contrast with the cold evening air around him. The feeling of half-healed injuries and tense muscles seemed to weep for the hot water, and he closed his eyes in relaxation.

He needed this. He'd needed it for weeks, and now it was finally happening.

Obviously, taking over as guild-master would lead to an adjustment in his life, and teething troubles had occurred. There were more responsibilities than he had expected, everything from paperwork to ensure the building was fixed every time one of the brats damaged it, to arguing with the local councilmembers about how the good that Fairy Tail did greatly outweighed the bad. Honestly, trying to explain that an idiotic fire mage had literally saved their lives multiple times and therefore had earned the right to blow up the occasional fountain or set fire to a random ornamental tree was not a fun task to take.

Admittedly, he didn't make life easier for himself. He insisted on taking at least one mission a week, something that almost everyone in the guild deemed to be idiotic. But he was only thirties, he was an incredibly strong mage, and couldn't simply just hang up his profession because he was in charge of the guild.

"You're back then?" Freed asked amusedly from the patio.

"Yeah," Laxus nodded, opening his eyes, and smiling at his husband. "Wanna join me?"

"Sure," Freed nodded, and made work on removing his clothes.

The hot tub was something they'd brought three years prior, two years after they'd brought their marital home. After the odd inclusion of spas at the start of their relationships, they'd become reliant on their facilities after a hard mission to relax and untense their bodies. When they'd moved, the distance from their house to the nearest spa had been too long, so they'd invested in a hot tub of their own and learned how to massage one another. The latter advancement in the relationship had been a fun, fun few weeks for them both.

Laxus grinned a little as he saw Freed remove his underwear, and he raised an eyebrow at the man. Freed noticed, laughed a little and playfully kicked the man's thigh as he climbed into the tub, sitting beside him. Laxus raised his arm slightly to wrap it around his shoulders, pulling him close.

"The mission went well, I assume?" Freed asked, idly playing with the surface of the water.

Laxus halted, before looking down at Freed and speaking slowly. "Was fine, no problems."

"No problems at all?" Freed probed.

"Not one."

"You are aware that you are my husband and Bickslow is one of my best friends," Freed continued playing with the water, voice equally annoyed and amused. It was a tone only Freed could manage. "And if my husband collapses in the middle of a fight due to exhaustion, my best friend is going to tell me."

"Fucking traitor," He muttered, before sighing and looking to Freed. "I'm fine. I'm back here, so no problem."

"Laxus, you passed out because you're overworking yourself," Freed chastised, placing a hand on Laxus' thigh and stroking it softly. "You can't keep doing this to yourself."

Laxus knew he couldn't, of course, but it wasn't that easy. "I know," He admitted, sighing. "But I just can't give up working as a mage, not yet. I always thought it'd be what I do, y'know. I thought I'd always be the guy who goes to a town, fixed their problems, burns through my magic, and that's all. And I knew that eventually it was gonna end, but, well, I've been a mage for twelve years. It went by too fucking quickly and it feels…" He thought for a moment. "Being a mage is all I have, and I don't wanna let myself slip if I ever need to fall back on it."

"I do understand that, Laxus," Freed sighed. "But as you are now, you're losing you're edge not because you've dropped the sword, but you've used it so much that it's starting to shatter."

"I get that," Laxus whispered, nodding. Freed hand clasped on his thigh and patted him. "I'll stop going on 'em, it's time. I know that."

"You don't need to stop altogether, I've no doubt your grandfather didn't when he was young," Freed smiled, resting his head on Laxus' shoulder. "Perhaps you take it down to one mission a month, maybe not always go on S-Class missions. Only allow yourself to take what you can handle with your new responsibilities, not what you were able to do ten years ago."

"You're right," Laxus nodded, pulling Freed closer and kissing him on the top of his head. "When d'you get so smart about this shit?"

"I had a good teacher," Freed chuckled.

It was almost ironic. Almost exactly ten years to the day, here they both were again. Sat together in a hot tub, side by side, one of them struggling with the responsibilities of their new life while the other tried to advise them on how to deal with it. Laxus could almost laugh at the cyclical nature of it, but was distracted when Freed's roaming hand slid up his stomach and his husband moved closer to him.

"You know," Freed began, voice a little naughty now. "If you ever need to burn off some energy, I could teach you a few techniques that have proven useful in the past."

"Oh really?" Laxus quirked a brow, hand roaming down Freed's back, stroking his spine.

"Indeed," Freed nodded. "I'm sure you'll become quite the addict though."

"I can risk that," Laxus smirked.

And when Freed shifted so he was straddling Laxus, the blonde grinned. He leant up and pulled Freed into a passionate, explosive, lightning-filled kiss. A kiss he would indulge in anytime, anyplace.

#Fraxus Week #Fraxus #freed justine #laxus dreyar #Fairy Tail #Fanfic #Writing #Two Shot #Chapter Two #canon divergence #Word Count: 3.5k

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schrijverr · 4 years ago

Text

'Till Death Do Us Part

Part 2 of 13

When Alex has to bring Philip to work, he and Thomas discover that they both have something in common: they lost their love. They form an unexpected bond and connection about this that grows into something more.

A medium burn with parental feelings about Philip and flowers.

On AO3.

Ships: Jamilton

Warnings: grief/mourning and mentions of unhealthy coping and death.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter 2: Dwarf Sunflowers Means ‘Adoration’

Thomas phone lit up on a Sunday, the screen blinking with Alex’s contact as Thomas frowned confused as he picked up: “Alex? What do you need?”

“Oh thank god, Thomas,” Alex’s voice sounded hoarse, like he’d been crying.

“Are you okay?” the words were out of his mouth before he could question them.

There was a shaky breath, before Alex said: “No- yes- maybe? I don’t know, just- fuck- it’s- it’s his birthday today and I normally can handle it, but- I don’t know, just- Pip was so excited about getting his Halloween costume and they look so much alike and I- I can’t deal with it.”

“What can I do? Just tell me what to do,” Thomas urged him, already changing his sweat pants for comfortable jeans.

“Can you come over?” Alex sounded small, “I know it isn’t really what we do, but Pip likes you and I just can’t be alone right now, but everyone always looks at me so pitying and I just- not today.”

“Yeah, I get it. I’m on my way, be there in five,” Thomas said, grabbing his keys on the way out.

Before he hung up, he swore he heard a soft thank you come through, but he must have made that up. There was no way Alex was thanking him.

He got to Alex’s house in four minutes and felt oddly nervous as he knocked on the door.

After a few seconds the door swung open to reveal a rumpled Alex. He was clad in sweatpants and a hoodie, his hair tied up in a messy bun and he had red rims under his eyes as the world seemed to weigh him down.

From inside the house a TV could be heard and Alex shrugged: “I sat Pip down with a movie and that probably makes me a shitty parent, but I think it would be more shitty to have him witness my breakdown in the bathroom.”

Thomas didn’t respond, just stepped forwards and pulled Alex into a tight hug, standing there as the other started to cry again, clutching his shirt.

“Just let it out,” he encouraged Alex as he walked them to the kitchen, still hugging as he closed the door behind them and made sure they wouldn’t attract Philip’s attention.

He waited, holding Alex as the man cried out his frustration and grief, while Thomas just petted his hair and let him. He said no soothing words, there were no words that could soothe this deep ache and he knew it.

After a few minutes Alex had tired himself out and just hiccuped slightly.

“Alex, I’m gonna ask you the shittiest question there is, but what has you most upset right now? Out of everything, what is making you the most upset?” Thomas asked.

It wasn’t quiet as Alex thought, the man mumbling under his breath. He’d always done it and Thomas just had to wait until Alex could form his thoughts louder.

“I guess- I guess I’m just frustrated that I can’t enjoy something as stupid as going to buy a Halloween costume with my son, that I can’t seem to shake the shadow in the happy moments even when I want to and I know John would have wanted me to,” Alex finally answered.

Thomas nodded, his mind forming a plan.

“What’s Philip dressing up as?” he asked.

The question threw Alex off guard and he simply answered: “A dinosaur, why?”

He chuckled slightly at the costume choice, then said: “Okay, this is what’s gonna happen. You’re gonna go upstairs, you’re going to shower, you’re going to get dressed in comfortable but presentable clothes. Yeah? And then we’re going to the store and getting Philip his costume. After that we can go say hi to John if you want, show him the costume and then we’re getting hot chocolate. You got that?”

“I really don’t know if I can go outside today. I don’t want to see the world move on when I feel it should just stand still,” Alex whispered.

Thomas gave him a comforting look and said: “I know. It fucking sucks, but Philip is excited for his costume and sitting here feeling shitty for yourself isn’t going to make you feel better. Either of you.”

It seemed Alex was giving in, so Thomas played his ace: “I’ll be there the whole time, if you need to break down, I’ll handle Philip. Let him have a good day.”

“Fuck, I hate that you’re right,” Alex sighed. Victory.

“I’m always right,” Thomas smirked, he couldn't help himself, “Does Philip need to get dressed or is he good to go?”

“Just needs shoes,” Alex replied.

“Good, I’ll go chat with him and you are going to…” he waited for Alex to finish the sentence.

“I’m gonna go upstairs, shower, put on some clothes,” he listed.

“Exactly, now go,” Thomas ushered Alex up the stairs, before starting the kettle. Coffee wouldn’t do the man any good, but tea might help. With that in progress he made his way over to the living room where Philip was watching A Land Before Timewith rapid attention, obviously captivated by the story.

He sat down next to Philip and smiled when the boy looked at him: “Hi there, Philip. Do you remember me? I’m Thomas, we met at your Papa’s office a while ago.”

Philip lit up: “Mr. Thomas!” then he got confused, “What are you doing here? Papa says you aren’t not-work friends, he says you wouldn’t come.”

Thomas tried to ignore the fact that Philip had apparently asked if he would be coming and Alex had decided to describe them as friends – work friends but still – to his son, no matter how much it made him happy inside.

“Well, kiddo, your Papa changed his mind, because today we’re going to get you a costume,” he told Philip, “I heard you’re going as a dino and I wanted to know more about them. Since you explained so well last time your Papa let me tag along, so you could explain more.”

“Really?” the boy’s eyes were like saucers and stars were dancing in them as he started to tell Thomas everything about the cool dino costume he was going to get.

He listened closely, nodding at all the good points and asking questions the kid seemed capable of answering.

When he heard noises of someone getting out of the shower upstairs, he led the kid to the door as he talked, getting his shoes on before Alex came downstairs.

Alex looked much better when he returned downstairs. His hair was still up in a bun, but it wasn’t as messy or greasy, just wet. His clothes were more comfort than fashion, but he didn’t look like a dumpster fire anymore and the bags under his eyes seemed to hold less weight.

Philip noticed his Papa, because he turned to him and rambled: “Papa, Mr. Thomas is coming with us to learn more about dinos and it’s going to be so much fun and he promised to buy me hot chocolate and he agrees that purple is a good dino color.”

“That’s nice, Pip,” Alex smiled tiredly, scooping the boy up into his arms and pressing a kiss to his cheek, before getting their coats.

Thomas held out his hand as they stepped outside and Alex shot him a confused look. He explained: “I’m driving, go sit with Philip in the back.”

Alex wordlessly handed him the keys and got in the backseat without any complains as he gave him the name and location of the costume store he’d wanted to visit.

While they drove Thomas watched how Alex just smiled at his rambling son. It was strange how patient and silent the man could be for his kid’s benefit, but Thomas could clearly see the same focus Alex gave all the tasks he seemed to care about.

At the store it seemed to be going fine, until Philip stepped out in a particularly shitty costume that looked more like a turtle than a dinosaur

Alex choked up, Thomas felt it beside him and with one glance it was confirmed when Alex nodded and gasped: “I’m gonna go for a sec.”

“Alright, Alex, go,” Thomas assured him, not looking to see him walk away.

Philip looked confused and asked: “What’s wrong with Papa?”

“Nothing to worry about buddy,” Thomas smiled, ��He’s just having a bit of a rough day today and he needed to step away for a moment.”

The boy thought it over, then softly asked: “Is it like the other sad days? When one of my Aunties or Uncles come to pick me up and we have a sleep over?”

It seemed the kid was as smart as Alex had bragged and Thomas was surprised how open Alex was with the kid, though it seemed to be working.

“Yeah, buddy, kind of like the other sad days, but today your Papa is trying to turn his sad day into a happy day, so he’s trying to do that right now,” Thomas told him, “How about we go try on the purple dino costume? Purple is better than green anyway.”

Philip perked up at the suggestion and when Alex came back a little while later, he seemed a bit more put together and managed a real and big smile at Philip’s costume. They got the costume and Philip refused to take it off.

“Hey, Pip, do you want to go show Daddy your costume?” Alex asked him as they walked out of the store, the uncertainty weirdly tinting his voice.

The boy thought about it, then said: “Mr. Thomas says you’re trying to turn a sad day into a happy day, but you always seem sad when we go to show Daddy things.”

Alex was taken off guard by the reply, but squatted down to Philip’s level as he said: “Pip, going to show Daddy things might be sad, but it’s important to me that he gets to see you grow up. If you don’t want to go that’s okay, we won’t, but you don’t have to say no for me.”

It seemed Philip got it, because he asked: “Can we get flowers for Daddy? I liked leaving him flowers, it made his special place more special.”

“Of course we can get Daddy flowers, Pip,” Alex’s voice was thick with emotion and Thomas took the lead when walking to the flower shop.

Philip took extra care in picking out the flowers. He spotted dwarf sunflowers and asked: “Papa, you said Daddy’s favorite color was yellow, right? And that he was your sunshine.”

“Yeah, I sure did, Pip,” Alex answered, spotting the sunflowers Philip was looking at.

“Can we get these for him?” Philip asked, pointing them out.

“Yes, he would love those,” Alex said, picking up the flowers and paying for them.

They left the store and now the hard part came. Thomas was still driving, he hadn’t trustedAlex’s mental state before and he certainly wasn’t now, but he had to ask which cemetery to go to. Luckily, it seemed Alex had remembered as well and he just whispered: “Calvary cemetery,” as they got into the car.

The drive was quiet and Thomas wasn’t sure if he would be welcome to come with them, but when they got out of the car, Alex grabbed his hand, slightly shaking and pulled him along. So, Thomas followed as they walked through the rows.

Philip obviously already knew the way and he skipped out ahead of them the way only a kid who didn’t fully realize what this meant could. He stopped before a simple grave that read:

Lt. Col.

John Laurens-Hamilton

1988-2017

Loving father and doting husband

Noble soldier that protected his men till the end

Embedded in the grave there was a picture of a young man with long curly hair pulled into a ponytail. He was smiling into the camera, freckles splattered on his face like the milky way as he looked at the person behind the camera fondly. He was dressed in a basic military uniform and in the background there was a dusty military base visible.

Alex fell to his knees in front of the grave and greeted it: “Hi, Jacky, how have you been? Good, I hope. I’m going to have words with God if I come there and I hear they’ve been treating you like crap.”

He let out a shaky sigh, then went on: “I wanted to come wish you a happy birthday. They didn’t have the candy you liked at the store, but I’ve always told you licorice is disgusting so we got little chocolate bars for the trick-or-treaters instead.”

Silent tears streamed down his face: “I brought Pip with me, he’s going as a dinosaur this year and he wanted to show you his costume.”

Philip was standing next to his Papa, looking at the grave. When Alex said that he spoke up, this was obviously not the first time: “Hi Daddy, look at my costume,” he told the grave happily, “It gots spikes and it’s purple. Papa doesn’t like purple that much, but Mr. Thomas does, he helped me pick out my costume. I’m gonna be the bestest dino ever.”

Thomas hadn’t expected his name, so he looked up shocked from where he was keeping his distance. It was strange to be introduced to a dead man by his kid.

He hoped Alex wouldn’t mind that Philip talked about his rival to his late husband, though they weren’t really rivals anymore. They still argued, but there was a more familiar atmosphere around them.

It was nice, different, but nice.

Meanwhile Philip had been rambling on about school and what the other kids were dressing up as, before he remembered the flowers. He held them up and said: “We got you flowers. They are sunflowers and they’re yellow. Papa says you like yellow and they look fun, like little suns. Do you think that’s where they got their name?”

“I think so, buddy,” Alex answered for John with a strained voice.

“That’s cool,” Philip said, before going on, “I’m gonna put them on your special place. Auntie Eliza says this is kind of like your home, but it looks boring and yellow is a good color to help you be less boring. My room is yellow and it’s the bestest room there is. Papa allowed me to paint on one of my walls and I painted some dinos there.”

Throughout Philip’s conversation with John, Alex had pulled the little boy onto his lap and hugged him tightly.

When the boy was out of things to tell John, he started to squirm slightly, but it didn’t really look like Alex was willing to leave or let go. So Thomas stepped in.

He put his hand on Alex’s shoulder startling him slightly and softly said: “Here, I’ll walk around with Philip. Don’t worry, just take your time.”

Alex nodded gratefully and let Philip go, Thomas took his hand and asked: “Want to play a game with me, Philip?”

“Yeah!” Philip clapped in his hands.

“We’re going try to find all the stones with a little cross on it, okay?” Thomas felt slightly bad that he was turning other people’s final resting places into a game with a kid, but with his view of what death was like, he didn’t think they’d mind.

They had found around twenty-onegraves with a cross on it when Thomas noticed Alex get up. He steered Philip back to John’s grave while they looked and when they got back to the grave Alex smiled watery at Philip and asked: “What do you think of hot chocolate, Pip?”

Philip bounced excitedly and asked: “Is there whipped cream? Uncle Herc gave me hot chocolate with whipped cream and it was the yummiest.”

“We can ask,” Alex replied, taking his kid’s hand.

The drive to the small cafe started silent, but then Philip asked Thomas what sort of flowers he liked. Thomas told him cornflowers were his favorite and after that the two talked about flowers, while Alex stared out of the window.

It was still strange to see Alex without a fire burning in his eyes and Thomas remembered how Angelica had told him that Philip had probably saved his life. It was disturbing how accurate it seemed and Thomas wanted to shake the man until he was back to office Alex, but he knew that wasn’t what he needed right now and he knew he would have hated it.

Today reminded him that their grief was different. Alex’s was younger and unexpected. When he’d married Martha, he knew they would have limited time. She was not ripped from him, just softly eased out of his arms.

The loss still hurt, God, it hurt so much and sometimes he wanted to curl up into a ball and yank all of his hair out in the hope the numbness and pain just went away.

But he got used to it.

Martha was someone he could never forget. She’d always be there in his heart, guiding him to be a better man and keep going. It had taken a long while for him to get there, for him to see her hand on his shoulder wasn’t holding him in place, but pushing him forwards.

She’d always told him, he would do great things and he’d better keep a picture of her with him so that she could see it. And he would try to do that.

But Alex didn’t have that.

Alex had a man who had promised him a future together, who had told him forever ‘till the end, who gave him a family and said they would raise their child together. A man who was taken without warning.

Thomas couldn't imagine, but that wasn’t the point. He couldn't imagine the loss, but he could help soothe it by being there right now, because Alex couldn't use anyone pitying him today, couldn't use having to worry about Philip. So Thomas did what he couldn't.

In the cafe he got excited with Philip over the triple chocolate hot chocolate they had and ordered tea for him and Alex. He pointed out the painting they had on the wall and played I Spy, leaving Alex to sip his tea absentmindedly.

When Philip had a sufficient chocolate mustache and was falling asleep in his chair after the day, they left. The drive silent with Philip’s dozing.

At the house Thomas asked: “Do you want me to cook or are you good for now?”

Alex hesitated, then said: “I always make Hoppin’ Johns on his birthday and stuff, it’s a long story, but uhm- if you- I’d like you to stay. For dinner. Only if you want to of course.”

Thomas hadn’t expected the invitation, but accepted after a beat: “Well, I won’t say no to free food and Philip did promise to show me some of his drawings.”

“Who am I to deny you a Philip Hamilton Art Tour,” Alex smiled and let him into the house, informing Philip of the evening plans, which of course caused the boy to perk up again and drag Thomas along with him, while Alex retreated to the kitchen.

Alex sat down at the kitchen bar and just took a moment to sit and breathe.

This day had gotten easier throughout the years, but he could clearly remember how that first time he’d almost ignored baby Philip’s cries just because he didn’t want to get out of bed. God, he’d felt so guilty. John had always wanted a family, Alex too, but John dreamed of being a dad and he’d almost ruined that.

Back then he’d sworn to himself that Philip would never fall victim to his own grief ever again, so when he found himself spiraling today, he did what he found hardest: he asked for help.

He hadn’t known exactly what he was doing until Thomas picked up. It hadn’t been a conscious decision, but he was glad he had. The man seemed to know exactly when to step in, what he couldn't handle and what he needed him to do.

And Pip liked him.

If you’d asked him about a month ago if he’d be okay with Thomas watching Pip and Pip being excited about it, he would have thrown a fit, but Thomas was surprisingly good with Pip. He seemed to listen and engage, never talk down.

It was weird to see, but Alex didn’t mind that much. His reaction to everything had been a breath of fresh air after all the worrying his friends always seemed to do.

Don’t get him wrong, he loved his friends and they had dragged him through his darkest times, but they couldn't seem to get that he was doing fine. It was just some days that the grief creeped in and dragged him down, but that didn’t mean he would go back to zero immediately.

Sometimes their worrying made him feel like he was a bad parent and he had been a slightly bad parent when John had just died, but he had tried and he wanted to prove that he would die for his son, his pride and joy.

He knew it was stupid that he felt like that, that he felt the need to show them that they didn’t have to check up on him and take Philip for a few days when it got too bad, but he had always struggled with getting validation, so he cut himself some slack.

Looking up he saw the clock. Half an hour had already passed of him just sitting there and he should really start cooking.

Slowly he set out all the ingredients for the Hoppin’ Johns. He tried not to tear up too much as he cooked, though he felt justified in blaming some of the tears on the onions.

When he was done, he set the table, feeling weird that there were three plates. Usually his friends came together and it rarely happened that there were three people. It felt wrong on some level, but also nice. Alex preferred not to think about it as he called them for dinner.

Pip came bounding down the stairs, pulling Thomas along as he yelled: “Papa, Papa, I showed Mr. Thomas my dino drawings on the wall and the wall with my other drawings and he says they’re very good and I wanna be an artist some day and Mr. Thomas says I probably could, isn’t that cool!”

Alex smiled: “That’s very cool, Pip. Now come here and eat your dinner.”

“Yes, Papa,” Pip said, climbing onto his chair and sitting down. He saw the food and said: “This is Daddy’s food, right Papa? Are you gonna say the words?”

“Yeah, Pip, it’s Daddy’s food,” Alex confirmed.

Thomas shot him a questioning look and Alex explained: “We eat this on days special to John, his family was religious. He wasn’t that much, but he liked the idea of Heaven, so we say grace for Daddy’s food.”

Ah, Thomas thought, that made sense. Martha hadn’t been religious at all, but she had a great love for Christmas, so Thomas dutifully decorated the house each year, no matter what.

Alex held out his hands and Pip grabbed one and also held out his hand, Thomas grabbed them both, following their example and bowed his head.

“I thank you, Lord, for the food on our table,” Alex began saying grace, “Today we eat this food with gratefulness that you, up in the Heavens, are watching over our sweet departed John. May he be happy in your presence and well taken care of until we can join him. Amen.”

“Amen,” Philip echoed, so Thomas did as well, before they started eating.

The food was good and Thomas made sure to complement Alex on his cooking. The man blushed and said: “I picked it up over the years. There are only so many times you can eat instant noodles, before you try to learn.”

Thomas laughed at that and agreed, before Philip asked what instant noodles were and the conversation moved on.

When dinner was done, it was already quite late. Alex got up and said: “Come on, Pip. Plate to the kitchen and then we’re getting ready for bed. You have school tomorrow.”

They brought their dishes to the kitchen and Thomas offered to clean up while Alex got Philip into bed. Alex protested and Thomas said: “It’s not charity, Alex. It’s as a thank you for the food, it was delicious and my Southern hospitality wouldn’t want to seem ungrateful.”

Alex eyed him suspiciously, but tiredness just won out and he nodded, before leading Philip out of the kitchen despite his sleepy whining that he wasn’t tired.

It still baffled Thomas how soft Alex got with Philip, how all his burning passion seemed to turn into a hearth of warmth to keep Philip safe from the cold. Thomas was sure that if Alex had to sacrifice everything in his life just to make Philip smile, he would.

After half an hour the kitchen looked clean and Alex came down the stairs, saying: “He must have been really tired, he’s already asleep,” there was a beat of silence, “Do you want coffee? Or maybe wine after this day.”

Thomas smirked: “I don’t think wine is a good idea or too much caffeine, but I wouldn’t mind some tea though.”

“Good. It was mostly a joke anyway – the wine part – I need to be up early tomorrow again to catch up on all the work I’ve ignored today,” Alex replied, starting the kettle, “Maybe tea is a good idea, I’ll join you.”

“Alex, it’s Sunday, what work could you have been doing?” he asked, baffled.

The other shrugged: “I work on my financial plan for the company and Washington isn’t the best with tech, so I go through his inbox to check if everything send correctly or if he missed anything accidentally. And I write essays for this blog I run, though that’s not really something I have to do per se.”

“Damn, you’re going to burn yourself out if you keep going like that,” Thomas told him, “And does Washington know you’re doing that?”

Alex shrugged: “I think he’s on to me, but he hasn’t confronted me yet, so he either hasn’t noticed or it’s helping and he doesn’t want to admit it.”

Thomas made a ‘that’s fair’-face, before commenting: “You and Washington are close, if he allows you to do stuff like that.”

“I suppose,” Alex pouring the hot water in their cups, “He’s kinda the one who was a solid in my life ever since I got to the States. Me and John both served under him in the military.”

“You were military?” Thomas asked, surprised.

“Yeah, didn’t last long though,” Alex answered, “I joined at seventeen, came out as trans two years later and quit, not the best environment. The only good thing in that whole institution were John and Washington.”

“I didn’t know,” Thomas said, “That explains the Grandpa George thing.”

Alex blushed at that and muttered: “I didn’t start that, it’s fucking embarrassing. Angelica taught it to Pip and Washington went with it because he’s a little shit and I can’t really say anything, because he and his wife are the only grandparents he has.”

“John’s parents are gone?” Thomas asked.

“Nah, but they were homophobic transphobic bigoted assholes, so they’re as good as out of the picture,” Alex told him, “Both our sides were equally empty at the wedding, though some of his siblings managed to sneak out.”

“What was your wedding like?” Thomas asked, they had moved to sit at the kitchen bar while they talked and Alex lit up at the question.

“It was one of the best daysof my life. We both had decided on white suits, I looked like and idiot, but John was beautiful,” Alex told him, “John wanted to walk down the isle real bad and Washington gave him away, he cried. Never admitted it to anyone, but he cried. I did too though, so I can’t really judge.”

Alex took a sip, then went on: “We convinced Herc to be our flower girl, it was hilarious. And the Schuyler sisters rapped as a bridesmaid speech, it was absolutely priceless. Did you know Eliza can beat box?”

“No,” Thomas chuckled.

“Me neither, but she can and it’s so weird. She had like this blue dress Herc made, looking like a proper lady and then she beat boxed while Angie and Peggy rapped about how me and John were both stupid for not confessing for three years,” Alex laughed.

“You did confess for three whole years?” Thomas asked with disbelief.

He tried to ignore how his own crush on Alex had been festering for the past two years, ever since he’d met him. A crush he had pushed down and instead argued with the man every time as if he were a school boy, but he had his reasons, he told himself.

“Yeah, we were great at dancing around each other,” Alex smiled, “Both convinced that him using every phone call while away on duty to call me was super platonic. And then in college we roomed together, shoving our beds together, platonically of course.”

Thomas laughed at that, before asking: “How did you get together if you were both that dense?”

Alex was blushing like an idiot, Thomas noted, and he hadn’t answered Thomas’s question. Glee lit up in his eyes as he asked: “Okay, how dumb was it? It must be dumb if you’re that embarrassed about it.”

“We accidentally lockedourselvesinacloset,” he confessed quickly as if saying it faster made it disappear.

“How the fuck do you do that?” Thomas wheezed.

“It was a stupid closet anyway,” Alex huffed, crossing his arms and looking away, “It was a supply closet and we were cleaning it and we had set the brooms outside and when I closed the door to get behind it one of them fell and locked us in.”

“That’s amazing,” Thomas said.

Alex gave up his huffy manner and grinned as he agreed: “In hindsight it was hilarious, yeah. God, it was so stupid, John was so stupid.”

It was quiet for a moment, Alex was lost in thought and Thomas just reveling in the calm.

“What was he like? John, I mean,” Thomas asked softly.

Alex raised a brow as he looked at him, but apparently saw nothing off putting in them, because he answered: “John was the stupidest, bravest and kindest person I know. He and Pip are so alike that it hurts sometime.”

He sighed deeply, then said: “He was rash, always rushing into danger first when in the military, last one out too.”

The last part sounded bitter and Thomas couldn't blame him.

“John loved to draw as well,” Alex told him, “I still have all his sketchbooks and one of the rooms in the house is an atelier. At first I couldn't bring myself to change it, but now- well, maybe Pip will use it someday.”

“But he wanted to be a nurse, drawing was just a hobby,” Alex wenton, “John loved helping people. Whenever someone in ourfriend group was sick, he would be at their door with soup and meds in no time. Whenever I had my period he would cuddle with me and watch shitty movies and bring me chocolate, it was so sweet.”

“He sounds like a catch,” Thomas said.

“He really was,” Alex chuckled, voice slightly breaking. It was nice to tell Thomas about John, he hadn’t known him. Everyone already knew John, had their own stories with him and their own interpretations of him. They would always color Alex’s John with their own versions of him, but Thomas couldn't do that. It was refreshing.

They talked for a little while, before Alex was drooping in his seat, the day had been emotionally exhaustive.

“I’m gonna go home and you should go to bed, Alex,” Thomas said after watching Alex almost fall out of his chair a few times.

“You know, for once I’m not even going to bother arguing with you,” Alex replied, getting out of his chair to see Thomas out.

Before he could leave, a small voice stopped: “Thomas, I, uhm- I wanted to- just, uhm, you know, thank you.”

Thomas turned back, trying to keep the surprise off his face as hesmiled: “No problem. Goodnight, Alex.”

“Uh, yeah, goodnight, Thomas.”

The big shift he had expected a month ago happened that Monday, though big wasn’t the right word necessarily. It was subtle for anyone who didn’t know any better. The arguments turned into banter and the screaming matches about company protocol turned into tentative collaboration.

No one who hadn’t known before how much they yelled and argued would call the changes big, but there was something that made it special.

Two months ago everyone would call them rivals – enemies if they wanted to be dramatic – with a mutual hate that permeated the work floor. But now there was a soft friendship starting between them that grew through the weeks.

~~~~

A/N:

This is not a guide on how to deal with grief, for the love of god don’t take advise from fics. I have tried my best to make it not shit and somewhat accurate, but I can promise nothing.

#RR writing #tw: grief #Hamilton #alexander hamilton #thomas jefferson #philip hamilton #Hamilton AU #John Laurens mentioned #'Till Death Do Us Part #'Till Death Do Us Part Part 2 #'Till Death Do Us Part AU #jamilton

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avengerscompound · 4 years ago

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The Tower: Family - 8

The Tower: Family An Avengers Fanfic

Series Masterlist PREVIOUS //

Pairing: Avengers x OFC, Bruce Banner x Bucky Barnes x Clint Barton x Wanda Maximoff x Steve Rogers x Natasha Romanoff x Tony Stark x Thor x Sam Wilson x OFC (Elly Cooper)

Word Count: 1534

Warnings: Pregnancy

Synopsis: With new powers, Thor now living on Earth full time, a wedding to plan, and Natasha and Wanda expecting, a lot is changing for Elly and her large and rather unconventional family. When Elise’s parents try to reestablish connections, Elly questions what being a family actually means.

Chapter 8: Return to the Tower

Our honeymoon was over too soon, though I couldn’t pretend I wasn’t missing my babies like crazy. We picked them and the puppies up from Sam’s sister and took them straight to the tower.

It was strange going back to the tower but not in a bad way. I had a lot of happy memories attached to the building. This was where I fell in love with my family. Going up in the elevator, all of us crammed together - we were going home.

The elevator opened up right into the penthouse. It was a huge open space, the ceiling seemed to start at what would be normally two stories above us and funneled up as it got to the window on the opposite side, so it was several stories of glass overlooking the city and acted as the focal point of the room. Closest to the window was an open circular sitting area that had a modern chandelier hanging over it. It was slightly raised and there were plenty of seats for all of us and more to sit around, and despite how large it looked, it also looked cozy and inviting. In the center of the space, a glass spiral staircase led to the upper floors, and running down the middle of it was a glassed-in fountain, the water running right down the glass. My immediate thought seeing it was that it would be a great place to put the glass Thor and I had inadvertently made.

Directly to the left and right of the elevator were rooms split into two levels each with stairs running up in a curve along the lower level. The bottom level of each was a solid wall with large dark wood doors, while the top levels had glass walls. Along with sculptures and other decorative pieces, there were various paintings, photographs on the solid walls. None matched and yet they all worked together. It included things like a Monet, photographs of the city skyline from the early 40s, artwork featuring the Avengers that you could find in poster form at Walmart, and photos we’d taken of each other or the kids, printed onto canvas.

“Alright, so,” Tony said as we spilled into the entryway. The puppies immediately just took off, running around and sniffing everything. “On the left, there’s a cinema room on the bottom and games and playroom on the top. On the right is the kitchen and above it a home gym.”

He led us toward the sitting area. “The bedrooms are all upstairs,” he said as we passed the stairs. “I cut the number for us down to just three. One big family one and two spares for when we might need space. There are more kids’ rooms and a nursery.” We reached the sitting area which brought the rest of the space into view. On the right was a dining area with a large glass table and a bar at the far end. To the left was some more entertaining space. Couches, a big-screen TV, and a grand piano. “There are bathrooms at either end and obviously more upstairs. What do you think?”

“It’s perfect, Tony,” Steve said.

Clint collapsed down on one of the couches and put his feet on the coffee table. “I think to celebrate our triumphant return to the city, we should order a bunch of pizza.”

“What a surprise that you’d suggest that, Clint?” Natasha said, sitting down next to him.

“What? Pizza is good,” Clint argued.

“You heard the man, FRIDAY,” Tony said. “You know what we like.”

“Yes, sir,” the AI replied.

“Where’s dis?” Riley asked as she walked over to the window and pressed her face against it.

“This is our new home,” Tony answered. “What do you think?”

“Dis isn’t home,” Pietro said. “No…”

“Oh, honey,” Bruce cooed, going down on one knee and drawing Pietro close with one large green hand. “We still have the other house and this one means you get to go to a nice school.”

“But I wike da outside. Dis too high up,” Pietro sobbed, his lip quivering. “And my books.”

“Come here, bumblebee,” Bruce said, scooping him up.

Pietro started crying and hid his face in Bruce’s arm. “I wanna go home.”

Bruce carried Pietro over to the window. “Your books and toys and clothes are all in your bedroom. We can take you to the park and look - look at all the things you can see up here.”

Pietro poked his head up from where he was hiding it in Bruce’s arm. “So much,” he said in a hushed voice.

“Pretty cool, huh, buddy?” Clint said. “And there’s a garden just downstairs with a slide and even a pool. We can go there every day with the puppies.”

“This is where your new brothers and sisters will be born and where you’ll start making lots of friends who are your age,” Bruce soothed.

“Kids?” Riley asked.

“Daddy Tony worked really hard on your bedrooms too,” Bruce said.

“It’s true,” Tony agreed. “Your bed is up in the roof and has a special walkway to it, so it looks like your bed is in a tree. And Riley’s looks like a pirate ship. And if you don’t want to sleep in different rooms, that’s okay, because the wall can move the wall and you’ll be in the same room.”

“An’ my books are hewre?” Pietro asked.

“Yeah, all your books are here,” Bruce assured him. “Will you give it a go? For us?”

“Otay,” Pietro said, softly.

“Why don’t we all have a nice movie night?” Steve suggested. “We can make some popcorn and eat our pizza while we watch Frozen.”

“Yeah!” Riley said, bouncing over to him. Steve scooped her up and spun her upside down, making her squeal loudly and a breeze pick up in the room.

“Then let's go make some popcorn!” He carried her out to the kitchen, and Bruce followed after him carrying Pietro.”

“So, how’s this gonna work?” I asked, taking a seat on the couch. “I mean, staff wise and going into work.”

“Well for starters, you’re not doing Avengers stuff while you’re pregnant, so you don’t have to worry about going into work,” Tony said, folding his arms over his chest.

“If I knew you were going to be such a pest, I wouldn’t have said yes,” I snarked.

Clint snorted. “Like you didn’t know he was going to be like that.”

“We all do agree though. You guys need to take it easy while you’re pregnant. No missions and backing off on the training,” Sam said. “Even Nat.”

Natasha shrugged. “It’s true.”

“Traitor,” I pouted.

“The labs are still here, including your one,” Tony said. “You can still do that, and I’m going to focus more on R&D over Avenging too.”

“Fine,” I huffed.

Clint started laughing and he put his arm around me and pulled me close. “You’re worse than the twins.”

“The landing bay for the Quin is directly under the garden,” Tony said.

“And there are offices here as well as the training arena. So we’ll keep up with what we can here, and when we’re needed we’ll use the Quin,” Sam said. “Probably one or two of us will go over to the compound every day, but by Quin, it’s only a half-hour. Hopefully, it starts running without us being there all the time and we’ll just be desk-jockeys unless it’s something big. And then with all the new enhanced popping up, hopefully, we can basically bow out of the hero-ing game and focus on the training and parenting game.”

“That’ll be good,” Bucky hummed, stretching back on the couch and putting his hands over his head. “Maybe I can go back to school.”

“That would be wonderful, Bucky,” Wanda said. “This could be a chance for all of us to get the things we missed out on.”

I smiled and hummed, curling into Clint’s side. “We’ll almost be normal.”

“There ain’t nothing normal about us,” Clint said, pulling me close.

“We may not be normal, but we are happy,” Thor said. “That is better.”

“Yeah, it is, you big softie,” Sam teased. Thor laughed, pulling Sam close and kissing his cheek.

“The pizza has arrived, do you want security to bring it up?” FRIDAY announced.

“Yes, please, FRIDAY,” Sam said,

Steve came out holding both the twins and he was followed by Bruce who had a huge bowl of popcorn in one hand and a box of soda’s under his arm. “Come on you lot,” Steve announced. “Time to have some family time with our kiddos, who we missed so much.”

The kids giggled and kicked their legs and we all got up and followed after them. The pizza arrived as we were heading into the cinema room. Clint and Sam collected it and Bucky called the dogs along. They immediately followed him into the darkened room thanks to his new powers and jumped up onto the recliners with the kids. As I settled into the large reclining seat and Wanda tucked herself into my side, pulling a blanket over both of us, I relaxed. It was good to finally be home.

// NEXT

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scenes-in-between · 4 years ago

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Trust No 1 (Part Four)

For the hundredth time in the last 18 hours, Gibson wonders why he agreed to this.

The train is busy and loud in a way he hasn’t had to deal with for a long time. Living for months crammed in a tiny trailer with Mulder’s noisy mind was nothing compared to this. Dozens of people in close proximity, only a handful of them asleep, all drowning each other out and making it nearly impossible to listen for threats. He finds himself trembling with the effort.

Jesus, poor kid, Mulder practically screams beside him.

“I’m fine,” he says through clenched teeth. “Just got used to the quiet.”

“Only a few more hours,” Mulder murmurs aloud, and Gibson nods.

A picture flares to life in Mulder’s mind, something Gibson has seen there before but Mulder’s never spoken about. Gibson doesn’t know if he’s remembering a nightmare or something that actually happened; it feels like the latter, but that’s impossible.

Mulder catches Gibson frowning at him and shrugs, sighing. “Sorry. I know it’s not the same, and I’m not suggesting I know exactly what you’re going through. I just can’t help remembering how it felt.”

“How what felt?”

Now Mulder’s the one to frown, confused. “You don’t know? I mean… You couldn’t see that memory just now?”

“People usually remember things in a kind of shorthand. There’s not always context. This memory of yours… I’ve seen it before, but I don’t know what it means or if it’s even real.”

“What did you see?”

“You’re in a hospital, I think. And you can hear people like I can. But it’s too much. It hurts, and you can’t… you’re not…”

“Yeah,” Mulder says quietly. “Yeah, that was real.”

“But how?”

There was an artifact, Mulder thinks. A piece of a ship, a spacecraft. I don’t know how or why it affected me like that, but it did. I could hear thoughts, but not like you do, not really. My mind couldn’t handle the input. It burned me up, shut me down. I almost died. Only reason I didn’t is that someone cut open my head and took whatever it was out of me.

Gibson can see images again as Mulder remembers waking up in that room, remembers Scully rescuing him. Mulder’s thoughts slide away from the narrative of the memory and latch on to Scully, and how he can’t wait to see her, and William, and there is this swell of affection that is unlike anything Gibson ever felt from his own parents. It makes him a little sad, even though he’s long since come to terms with the fact that his parents were always more afraid of him than anything else.

“They just cut it out of you?” Gibson prompts, hoping to steer Mulder back on course.

Mulder blinks. “Uh, yeah. I mean, I assume so. I used to have, well it was never a big scar, but…” He brushes his fingers over his forehead, almost like it’s a reflex. “Then later, after I came back from the dead, everything just… healed. Way faster and way more completely than should have even been possible. Can’t even feel the scar at all anymore. But yeah, that’s where they cut me open, and then when I woke up afterward, that was that. Only thoughts in my head were my own.”

Gibson wonders what it would be like to never hear anyone else’s thoughts, ever. The only way that ever truly happens for him is if he’s physically isolated, though when he’s not so out of practice, he can choose to turn the volume down by picking one thing or person to focus on. He realizes that as Mulder’s been talking (both in his head and out loud), that’s exactly what has happened; the rest of the mental chatter in the train car has faded into the background, nothing more than a dull murmur at the edge of his mind. He’s grateful for the respite, but it also means he might miss something, if there’s someone or something on this train that wants to hurt them. He really should go back to listening.

But also he’s just so, so tired.

“How much longer until the next station?” he asks, wondering if maybe, since he hasn’t picked up on the presence of any threats on the journey so far, he can afford to let his guard down a little, at least until they stop again and more new people get on board.

Mulder shifts and digs into his pocket for the brochure they picked up at the station the last time they transferred, which has a timetable with all the stops on this rail line. “Hmm, forty-five minutes, give or take? Why?”

“Can you do me a favor and just think about something really boring for a little while? Like, I don’t know, FBI protocols or something?”

Mulder chuckles. “Can’t say I’ve ever really been much of an expert on those. But sure. You gonna try to nap?”

Gibson doubts actually falling asleep is possible, but he nods anyway. Even if he can just rest for a while, that will be good. Just in case, though…

“Make sure I’m awake when we get to the next station, okay? So I can listen to the new people getting on. Just in case.”

Mulder nods, and a jumble of emotion spills out of him: pity, guilt, gratitude, regret, and something else Gibson can’t immediately identify. There’s this sense of he’s way too young to have to have to carry all this and I should be the one protecting him, which makes Gibson want to roll his eyes. Mulder still seems to think of him as the 12 year-old kid he was when they met, but he’s 16 now, and he’s been living on his own for a good long while. He can more than take care of himself. But there it is again, that flash of something else, and then it’s like Mulder makes the conscious decision to stop and focus on that one feeling because it completely takes over. It’s warm and something like affection but not quite, and Gibson puzzles over it some more before realizing, finally, that it’s pride.

Mulder is proud of him.

It’s not something Gibson has felt directed toward him many times in his life, and it makes him squirm a little bit. But it’s also nice.

“Thanks,” he says quietly, and Mulder nods again.

“You got it, kid.”

All right, let’s see. Now, unfortunately for me, I’ve had to sit through more than a few training seminars on the application of Chapter 119 of Title 18 of the US Penal Code. Fortunately for you, this is just about the most boring subject on the face of the Earth, and as I happen to be cursed with an eidetic memory, I can recite the stupid thing chapter and verse. Consider this your first class ticket on an express train to Snoozeville.

Gibson can’t help but smile a little as he leans back in his seat and closes his eyes.

Chapter 119: Wire and Electronic Communications Interception and Interception of Oral Communications. Section 2510: Definitions. As used in this chapter-- (1) “wire communication” means any aural transfer made in whole or in part through the use of facilities for the transmission of communications by the aid of wire, cable, or other like connection between the point of origin and the point of reception…

The gentle rhythm of Mulder’s bland recitation melds perfectly with the steady rocking and the click-clack of the train, and in spite of his apprehensions, Gibson is asleep in minutes.

***

From the relative comfort of his office, the Shadow Man watches the grainy feed from the station platform’s surveillance camera. It’s not exactly riveting viewing; Agent Scully paces back and forth, having arrived at the station more than an hour before the train is due. But, this is what he does. He watches. All day long, day after day, he watches and he listens.

It’s a form of omniscience, being able to drop into the daily life of virtually anyone he may choose, whenever he needs to, observing unseen from the shadows. (Not the most imaginative moniker, this one these FBI agents have given him, but he supposes it does fit.) Tonight, all he needs is confirmation that Mulder really is going to get off that train.

Scully’s posture belies not only anticipation but also fear. Her guard is fully up, but she need not worry. Not tonight, anyway. Let them have their reunion. He will call tomorrow to arrange a meeting, and then he’ll eliminate Mulder once and for all. He has waited months for this opportunity; one more night is nothing.

That is, until something happens that tosses every one of his carefully-laid plans out the window: someone blacks out the camera lens.

Ah. So. His little employee has finally started to put the pieces together, has he? He supposes it was just a matter of time, but this is particularly inconvenient. Without eyes on the platform, he loses his advantage. Despite his claims to the contrary, it would absolutely be possible for Mulder and Scully to vanish into the wind, away from his view. He cannot let that happen.

He glances at the clock and scowls. It will be a close-run thing, getting to Alexandria from Bethesda before the train arrives, but the late hour and empty roads are on his side. He’s out the door and on the road in minutes, speeding southward.

Looks like Mulder and Scully won’t be getting their little reunion after all. But they’re the ones who decided not to play along. Now the plan has to change, and that’s fine by him. A predatory grin lurks at the corners of his mouth as he presses harder on the accelerator.

This ends tonight.

***

As the train begins to slow on approach to the station, Mulder’s leg bounces with both nerves and excitement. Beside him, Gibson is still and silent, all of his attention focused on the thoughts of the people outside.

Suddenly he gasps and grabs Mulder’s arm. “You can’t go out there.”

No, please, I’m so close...

“You can hear someone out there?” Mulder asks tightly.

“Yes! There’s a man, and he’s one of them. He wants to kill you.”

“Damnit…”

Scully said we’d be safe. Oh no, Scully…

“Is Scully in danger?”

Gibson’s eyes are wide. “I don’t know. He’s… he’s got a gun, and he’s not aiming for her, but he doesn’t care that she’s in the way.”

Mulder leaps to his feet.

“Wait! You can’t!”

The three pops of gunfire are muted from inside the train car, but Mulder hears them anyway. He hurtles forward to lean over Gibson and peer out the window. There’s movement on the platform, bodies on the ground, but it’s too dark and they’re too far away for him to make out any detail.

The train picks up speed again, and a ripple of confused chatter fills the car and drowns out the conductor’s words coming over the loudspeaker. Mulder’s insides give a desperate lurch as he catches just a glimpse of Scully’s stricken face through the window. She’s on her feet, thank god. She wasn’t shot.

For the span of a heartbeat, there she is in front of him, real and solid, not just a presence in his mind. But then she’s gone again as the train whisks him past, and he wants to cry out at the injustice of it. It’s not fair. I was so close. The months of separation feel like an iron band around his ribs.

But it’s clearly still not safe to go home. He knows she wouldn’t have brought him out of hiding unless she truly believed it would be okay, but apparently whoever led her to that belief was either wrong or lying. Will it ever be completely safe? Is this what the rest of his life is going to be, this hiding and running and always looking over his shoulder? Feeling like he’s in this limbo, merely existing while the rest of his life carries on thousands of miles away without him?

It’s not until Gibson grabs him by the arm and shakes him that he realizes the boy has been speaking. He blinks.

“What?”

“He’s on the train! The man who was on the platform. He knows you’re here, and he’s coming after you!”

Mulder snaps to attention. “Can you tell where he is?”

Gibson squeezes his eyes shut, visibly shaking from concentration or fear or both. “He’s… he’s three cars ahead, but under… hanging on to the underside. I think he was on the tracks and then grabbed on to the train as it went over him.” He opens his eyes again, wide. “We have to get out of here!”

Mulder’s stomach tightens as he does a quick mental calculation. While he didn’t plan for this exact scenario, he did look up several potential places he could try to go, in case it turned out that it wasn’t safe in D.C. after all. One of them is a quarry with significant iron deposits, just south of Alexandria. The tracks run near enough that he just might make it, might be able to lead the man there, if he can manage to avoid getting caught first.

Quickly, nonverbally, he rushes to convey his plan to Gibson. He’s got about two or three minutes to jump off the train and hope to god the man follows him. He jerks open the zipper on his backpack and pulls out one of the burner phones he bought, as well as a couple of hundred dollar bills, shoving both into his pocket.

“I hoped we wouldn’t have to use these,” he says aloud, “but this is exactly why I bought them. Stay on the train for two more stops, then find somewhere to lay low. Let me know where you are, and I’ll come find you. The number for this phone is on the paper in the backpack. Got it?”

“What if something happens to you?”

Call Scully, Mulder tells him telepathically. “But I’m hoping it won’t come to that,” he adds.

Gibson nods, and Mulder gives his shoulder a squeeze before hurrying down the aisle to the door. He moves quickly between cars, into and through the one in front of where they were sitting, and then the next. If Gibson’s right, the man should be there just ahead of him, underneath the very next car.

Mulder’s heart pounds as he turns the latch to open the exterior door. He certainly doesn’t want to get caught, but he also needs to make sure the man follows him into the quarry and doesn’t get on the train and go after Gibson. Outside the ground rushes past, and he steels himself for how much this next part is going to suck.

I am getting way too old for this shit.

He grips the handrail beside the door and leans forward as much as he dares.

“Hey asshole!” he shouts into the wind. “Looking for me?!”

Taking one last deep breath, he jumps.

***

Only when she is absolutely certain that the Shadow Man super-soldier isn’t coming after her does Scully stop running. She looks around wildly. Mulder has to still be here, somewhere.

“Mulder!”

It’s Arizona all over again, with her shouting his name into the night, hoping against hope for some answering call.

“Mulder!”

But as was the case in Arizona, she receives no response.

***

The roller coaster of emotion is too much for Gibson. His own feelings are magnified by what he hears in Mulder’s thoughts, a sort of resonating loop that spirals him toward despair and exhaustion.

So he sleeps. It is, mercifully, a dreamless slumber, and it cradles him all the way back to New Mexico. Mulder gently shakes him awake, and they wordlessly disembark, waiting amid the other passengers while Mulder’s motorcycle is unloaded. Once they retrieve it, it’s a quiet ride back to the trailer neither of them had hoped to see again, though once they crest the hill and finally come within sight of it, Gibson lets out a sigh of relief.

#x-files fanfic #TXF: Trust No 1 #mulderfic #scullyfic #gibson praise #msr #mulder on the run #a/n: lol at myself for thinking (way back in october) that i would get this finished and posted soon #ah well #here it is at long last :)#will 2021 be the year i finally finish this scenes-in-between project?#who knows! but that would be cool!#;)#hi friends #hope you are all doing well

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cosmiccandydreamer · 4 years ago

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Stability Chapter 10

Otis Driftwood x Reader

Author note: Yes this is another flashback chapter, I had so much fun doing the last chapter I decided to expand more. This chapter is pretty long so thanks for sticking with the story so far💜

You're 21 now and looking out the window at the beautiful orange and deep red sunset. It's been 3 years since the incident at the bar. And since then the family has told you more about the comings and goings that happened there. You of course were shocked at first and widely taken aback.Your moral compass was definitely damaged considering the fact that you were very biased to the family due to the fact that you were pretty much part of this family.

They never asked you to participate but now that you were aware of the knowledge that they were hiding from you they hid it a lot less. though this sounds like this would have been an inconvenience It actually was quite refreshing because now you felt that you had more freedom walking around the house and there was less censorship in your presence.

You even started working at Captain's Spalding's gas station a couple days a week, who himself was thrilled at the fact that you were now aware of what was going on and that you seem to be taking it very well. "I always had a feeling you did alright with weird" he said. "I remember that time you brought home that squirrel skeleton with the baby and you tried to glue it back together or something. That's when I was like this girl's going to be either a taxidermy or some weird shit". You laughed spraying more Windex on the display case. "How's your old man by the way? ``he asked, counting the money in the drawer. This is pretty much the only gas station that your father used when he was filling up in between his truck stops.

"You tell me he talks to you a lot more than he talks to me. I actually haven't seen him for maybe a week and a half." "Oh well now little darling don't get sad your old man's a good man. He just doesn't know how to be a daddy you know?". You just hummed in agreement, not really wanting to go any further on the subject." I'm sad about finishing up the last of my courses at that school a couple cities away What are you going to do without me here?" You said in a chuckle to hide the fact you were incredibly sad about leaving the family.

"Well shit I'm going to be lost without ya but it won't be long before you're back". "I asked Baby and Otis to come and see me. They said they'll try but Otis said he doesn't like to be seen out in public too much especially in a big city. I mean I get it but I'm going to miss them and you of course". You stood up and brushed off your pants, sighing deeply. "Yeah Otis is not one for being in the city You might be able to get Baby to come down it's hard to get her to focus and she's not really a good driver but I'll try to bring them down at least once to see you and I'll try to call you you know and feel free to call me at anytime You know my number you know where I'm at." He walked around the counter and gave you a big hug "we need at least one of us in this family to be educated so you go get them smarts".

The day you packed up your truck Baby helped you, You told her that you were in a hurry so you couldn't wait for Otis to get done with whatever he was doing to say goodbye and that you'll call the house later. Truth be told there was a lump growing in your throat at the thought of leaving. The two of you had only gotten closer,late nights of him showing you his work and talking to you about anything really that popped into his mind. You also notice how jealous you got when you knew he was out with one of Charlie's girls.

You also noticed that whenever you brought up any boys that you may have seen around town that might be attractive he always scoffed and said "there ain't no good boys in this town bunch of fucking idiots". You would secretly hope that's because he was jealous but you weren't sure if it's due to jealousy or the fact that he was just protective of you.

You settled into your classes pretty fast even making a couple friends in some of them. After about 3 to 4 months you would call the house every weekend and talk to the baby for hours. You would also talk to Otis but he was usually interrupted by being yelled at by someone mostly doing the yelling. He never brought up if he had any attraction to you and you decided it wasn't good to bring it up either You're silly schoolgirl crush was probably just that and you just started to accept that I mean he was so much older than you What would he want in you? He probably saw you as a child.

You had struck up an acquaintance ship with an attractive young man in your political science class. Due to being an accelerated semester you were only going to be in the course with each other for about 3 months. You came to find out that his name was Dayton and that he was very smart. At the end of the semester he has asked you on a date, you told him you had to think about it, a small flash of hurt appeared across his face "it's not that there's anything wrong with you it's just I don't know if I have time to date anybody right now and I'm late calling home I will give you a ring later though okay?" You asked heading toward your room "ok y/n um yeah call me whenever" he said and headed the opposite way. when you reach the back to your dorm you rang the Firefly's house, discuss what you learned today in political science with Otis. Mama Firefly answered when you called, she was over the moon to hear from you.

After talking for a while you asked her if Otis was home, because you had agreed to talk at 6:30. "Oh I'm sorry sugar dumpling but he's at Charlie's but Baby is home wanna talk to her?" Your stomach twisted, he blew off your phone conversation to go fuck a whore? Well that cleared up anything you were wondering about how he felt.. "Actually Mama, I think I have someone on call waiting. Can you tell Baby I'll call her tomorrow?" "Sure thing honey we miss you!" "Miss you too mama" you hung up the phone and called another number "hey Dayton I think I am free for dinner after all".

When Otis returned home he immediately hurried over where the phone was. Was he too late? She said 8:30 right? He rang your dorm number before hanging it up hard when you didn't answer. Fuck it he thought and headed to the kitchen for a beer. "Oh Otis!" Y/n called for you I told her you were at Charlie's" Mama's voice ran out from the living room as he passed.

"Wait when did she call and you told her what?!" He angrily asked whipping his head out "I was out with Cutter and it was 8:30 she was supposed to call" " mmm hmm well honey she said 6:30 but then she said she said she had another call so she's gonna call back tomorrow" she replied looking back toward her show. He swallowed his annoyance and stomped back upstairs after grabbing his beer, god why the fuck did he care?! And why did he rush over here just to shoot the shit with you on the phone.. "god dammit" he thought to himself "fucking God dammit".

The date went well to your surprise, dinner was lovely followed by a fun conversation (or debate) depending on who you ask. You started to wonder if you had wasted time pining over the idea of Otis being interested in you and maybe you should focus on someone your own age. You didn't call the house for the rest of the week, Baby left some messages on your answering machine as well as Spalding. Nothing from Otis though, A small part of you was disappointed. You eventually called Baby back and you had told her how you went on a date with a nice young man. She was happy for you and wanted to hear every detail. You asked about Otis and she said he was in a mood right now so it's best not to bug him.

Otis had walked by the room when he heard Baby talking to you on the phone, He heard that you had gone out with a young man. Good for her he thought, the sooner I get the idea of her out of my head the better she's a fucking kid anyway. He decided to head to Charlie's and relieve some tension. He thought he got you out his head at least for the time being, that was until he found himself picking the girl who had your hair color, your eyes and around the same height. Walking into the prostitutes room he pictured your face, god dammit he thought to himself as he shut the door behind him.

You had gone on a couple more dates with Dayton. So far he had been a perfect gentleman. One night after a particularly wonderful date You had both ended up back at your place. You've never gone fully all the way You had kissed and stuff a couple of boys around town but nothing ever lasted, You were nervous and you let him know that you were not experienced in this department. He kept reassuring you that it was going to be fine and that he would take care of you. It almost seemed like he was rushing you a bit to not change your mind but you decided that he was just happy to be close to you.

You ended up going all the way with him but throughout the ordeal it was not as exciting as you thought it would be. He seemed to be more focused on getting himself off than focusing on you, halfway through you thought to yourself that you would wish he would hurry up.( He was way smaller than he led you to believe *eye roll*.)You also noticed that at one point you found yourself imagining Otis on top of you.. saying you were conflicted was definitely an understatement.

After that night he left in the morning after falling asleep right after he finished. You got up to the shower and looked at yourself in the mirror. You thought back to the night at the bar and all the other nights that he would spend at the house. You felt so homesick for everyone although your time here in college was fun and you're glad that you experienced it You were starting to wonder if this was really where you wanted to be. The days following after you and Dayton had been intimate you noticed the change in him he was starting to become more aggressive. The sweet demeanor that he had was slowly disappearing to someone who was controlling and short-tempered. He was starting to insist that he stayed over every night even when you told him that you had studying to do and that you did not want to be distracted. He had pressured you for sex again to which you declined and said that you are still recovering from your last session. He began to grow more impatient, He also started to dictate what he wanted you to wear and what he wanted you to eat.

At this point it only been about 3 weeks since you guys had become a couple. You decided that it was moving too fast. The final straw was when you were about to eat a bagel and he slapped it out of your hand and said Don't you think you've had enough? You're gaining a little bit of weight. You hadn't told anyone at the house about the situation because you didn't want them to worry, now that the semester was ending you decided that it was time to head back home and decide what you want to do with your life.You weren't as happy here as you thought you were going to be.

You decided to break the news to Dayton that you wanted to just remain friends You made sure to tell him while you were on the way to class so he would have a reason not to linger and make a scene because he was starting to show he also has signs of having an anger problem.He would have outbursts at the most smallest things and seemed to blame you for them. After telling him that you just wanted to be friends you hurried away from him before he could start an argument You could see the anger and confusion and his eyes but you knew you had to get away before he got upset. Part of was worried that he would hit you but you also thought maybe you were being paranoid either way you didn't want to take that chance so you hurried away from him as soon as possible You felt bad about breaking up with him this way but it seemed like the right thing to do.

Heading back to your room You saw that the phone was ringing You assumed it was Dayton so you decided not to answer it You were already tired and stressed enough You didn't really didn't want to have a debate about the relationship. The machine picked it up "ah hey there kitten or ah y/n guess I shouldn't call you that no more cus you got a boyfriend I and I don't know if he's the jealous type or whatever and all, anyway just wanted to see how ya doing and if you forgot us rednecks over here, I guess I'll let…" it was Otis! Hearing his voice your heart skipped a beat you nearly fell right on your face rushing to grab the phone. "Hey! Hi Otis'' you were out of breath from running to grab the phone but tried to chill out so he didn't notice. "I'm glad you called I've missed you". "I've missed you too darlin. How's the big ol fancy city treating you? Ain't the same without you here Baby is driving me nuts man".

You hadn't noticed until you felt a cold wet tear hit your hand that you were crying. Hearing his voice had ripped at your heart more intensely than you had anticipated..fuck you missed him. "I'm thinking about coming home for a while I actually might be able to submit my final paper through the mail but maybe you can look over it it's political science so you know stupid government stuff but thought you'd be interested". You said that last sentence so fast it nearly took all your breath. "Shit I would love too when you come home? I gotta make sure I get all my projects out the way so we can dedicate the entire afternoon to it. I'm sure there's a lot I have to unteach you about what they're trying to tell you is the truth". You laughed there was the Otis you knew. "Plus I know Baby and mama are gonna be excited for you to come home. They are gonna want to make a big deal." Coming home… that's when it hits you… that was home they were home.

"Well I was thinking" your sentence got interrupted by a very aggressive knock on the door. "Oh ah hold on Otis That might be campus security they seem to be knocking on the door very hard". He walked over to open the door still holding the phone Otis held the phone in his shoulder as he took out his knife and started sharpening it, might as well multitask. "Hi is everything ok officer.. oh hey Dayton" your voice fell at the end Otis heard it too, he sat up a little straighter listening more intensely. "I didn't like how we left our conversation earlier." He stated with his hands in his pockets mo"I understand I may have been kinda mean to you lately and I'm sorry but I think that's over with now, water under the bridge?"

He opened his arms as if to ask for a hug but he also seemed to be clenching his teeth slightly as well trying to hold in his anger, "thank you Dayton that's very sweet and of course no hard feelings thanks for taking this so well, I'm afraid I have to go though I'm on the phone with family but you have a good night" as you went to close the door he stopped it with his foot. "Maybe you don't understand me.. no one rejects me" he snarled trying to push the door more open. "Dayton you should go" you started trying to not look so frightened but truth be told this was terribly frightening. Otis stood up and while holding the phone in his shoulder while looking for his gun,knife and keys. Who the fuck was this kid talking to you like that? He thought to himself, fuck this kid.

That's when his stomach sank and his blood boiled over.. he heard something he never wanted to hear again, you screamed out of fear and dropped the phone "y/n"! He yelled into the phone over and over but you didn't answer. He wasted no time in running downstairs to where Baby was. He was practically screaming in her face what's the name of that college that you're at and what does she know about this kid Dayton. She quickly told him and then asked him what the problem was. He ignored her instead searching for Rufus and telling him that he has something to take care of with him. He grabbed the keys and hurried out of the house. He had never driven so fast in his life, Rufus kept a look out for the cops as they sped down the highway. He didn't really have a plan for when he got there other than he wanted to teach that kid a lesson.

You had dropped the phone to press your entire body weight against the door to prevent Dayton from coming inside your dorm. It was difficult Because he was so much larger than you. "Go away Dayton!!!!" You screamed "someone help someone!!" You frantically repeated hopefully someone would walk by and see the commotion."open the door you bitch!!" He screamed pushing it with all his weight, you leaned down grabbed the phone right as he was able to push his face into the doorway, you hit him as hard as you could in the face with it, he staggered back in pain as you pushed the door fully closed. You grabbed the phone again, "Otis!" You screamed into it before realizing the other line was dead.

Wasting no time to figure out what was happening on his end you dialed campus security. You heard Dayton attempting to break down your door by slamming into it. You started to cry angry frustrated tears. Why can't he just go away?!. "Hello hello is anyone there," campus security asked, finally connecting on the other end. You hurried to explain the situation to campus security who urged you to stay on the line as they came to your dorm. Unfortunately Dayton had run off before they could come. They assured you they would be checking in on you and keeping an eye out for him. You nodded and curled up in the bathroom with the door locked which was the only place you felt safe. "I wish Otis was here" you thought to yourself.

Little did you know he was, his brother and him drove as fast as they could and ended up on the compass in no time. He didn't know what Dayton looked like besides the shitty description from Baby. "What are we gonna do when we find him?" Rufus asked. He was worried about you as well but he didn't want to start something that would get you expelled. "We're not going to do anything but teach the boy a lesson that's all" Otis replied. "Scare him straight".

As much as Otis wanted to do unspeakable things to him Rufus was right This is not the place to do it especially if he was seen associated with you. As luck would have it they happened to see a young man fitting the description who looked like he was in a hurry with some bags and other materials. He seems to be trying to flee the campus as fast as possible. "I think that's our guy" Rufus said.Otis rubbed his hands together in anticipation. They slowly walked over to where he was loading up his small car. Rufus came up behind him and asked him for directions when he turned around to give a snarky response to him just as Otis threw a bag over his head and pulled him into the bushes.

Dayton struggled and tried to scream as Rufus held him, Otis shut him up quickly though pulling out his large hunting knife and pressing it up to his neck. "Hey there you pig faced rat nose son of a bitch, I'ma need you to listen and listen good if you ever so much as breathe in the same direction as y/n again I will cut off your I assume very small balls and shove them down your throat". Dayton didn't answer, he just started to shake and suddenly tears began running down his face. "Oh shit this boy is crying!!! Hahaha! Little pussy ass bitch". Otis laughed pointing at him. Rufus walked over and pointed a gun in his face,"you understand us boy? You come near y/n again it's all bad for you". "I understand" he stuttered over and over again. They grabbed him and pushed him into the mud, exploding in laughter.

Heading back to the truck there laughter echoed throughout the campus. You looked up and could have sworn that you heard a slight hint of Otis'h voice through your bathroom window. "Is that Otis? No no way my mind is making me imagine things''. The next day after getting approval from the Dean that you were able to mail in the rest of your assignment you loaded up your truck and headed back to Ruggsville. Passing the gas station as you entered into town you felt relief wash over you. You were finally home.

#otis driftwood #house of 1000 corpses #three from hell #otis driftwood x reader #otis firefly #thedevilsrejects #the devils rejects

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uhhhhhhhhhsblogyea · 4 years ago

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This is a surprise!

cw, attack, killing, slight demspey x richtofen, and religion, theres a good bit of that in there

[i wrote this awhile ago so theres not much of shipping material in this i was just like oh yeah this sounds cool]

[ 1 ] chapter 1 ; bump in the road

Demspey hums a song to himself, something he heard while going through the teleporter awhile back. He wasn't sure what the name was or the lyrics, it was just a catchy tune. If he had to guess, it came from the future. The sounds in it were definitely not from the 1930's.

Rictofen laughs and looks at Dempsey, "Dempsey, what does LMG stand for?" Dempsey smirks at this, turning to look at the doctor. He knew what to say, thanks to training the recruits. Maybe he could punch Richtofen for being stupid, just like he did to the recruits.

While Dempsey gives a minute of silence while looking over at the German, who takes out the summoning key, counting over his items before summoning the rift to their next place. “You sure you want to know?” He chuckles.

“Why of course! Why, I wouldn’t of asked if I knew already.” Richtofen hums, confused by the American’s laughter.

"If you say so. It stands for Lick My Gibblets." Dempsey struggles to hold back his smile, knowing his foreign teammate wouldn't really understand what he meant - not to mention he’d look stupid for not knowing what it really meant. What a funny thing.

While the two were conversing, Nikolai and Takeo had stepped into the rift, Dempsey following suit before Richtofen grabs him, "I am certain you were lying. What does it really mean?" He demands.

Dempsey grunts, pulling Richtofen off him while saying. "Let me go, dumbass!" Dempsey sighs, walking through the portal between worlds.

Richtofen failed to specify where exactly, but, at this point the American wasn't surprised though he wasn't any less annoyed.

"I wasn't aware it was LMGD..." The German ponders before following the bunch with a chuckle.

Tank steps out of the rift, meeting the other two, but it takes him to realize he stepped out into something he didn't expect. "What the fuck?" Dempsey is surprised, not prepared for the foot of snow on the ground. Pine trees of many kinds surround the area, being in a secluded area. Everything is covered in snow, pretty much abandoned.

"Oh my, this is quite the surprise." Richtofen speaks up, making his presence known as the blue rift crackles and closes.

"I wasn't prepared for this myself." Nikolai speaks up now, giving a slight shrug. "German," he addresses, "with the time traveling I'm sure you'd know where we are." He doesn't believe the legitimacy of Richtofen's surprise, Dempsey can understand why.

Takeo chooses not to speak, fixing his pants to go over his boots so no snow falls inside of them while Dempsey watches the Russian and German grow tension.

Takeo stands upright. "Let us talk with honor." He looks at the both of them and nods.

Richtofen looks at Takeo, sighing before nodding. "If we came here there is something we need, so let's go look for it. We'll have to hurry up and find a spot to 'bunker down' before the next wave arises." The German man had done air quotes before pointing a lanky arm towards the large gothic church a-ways ahead of them.

The front of the quite beautiful church is a triangular shaped building, much like a house or meeting hall that extends into a tower that looks very much similar to a clock tower with a bell, considering there's a clock on the front.

There's other rooms on the side of it but a lot of wires and metal rods are sticking out on the top of the tower. There's designs in the stone, stained glass of religious figures. Such a shame the full beauty was lost when the glass is cracked and broken in areas, boards nailed over any thought of entrance.

Something's off about it though.

As they trudge through the snow, Dempsey notices the metal rods. He looks to his left to see Nikolai, the man who seems unbothered by this cold. "Hey Nik, maybe Richtofen's right about something being here. As much as I hate to give him the benefit of a doubt, the wires and rods on the clocktower gives me the idea something's here."

Dempsey raises his hand and points at the clock tower briefly, giving Nikolai enough time to glance it over. The Russian man follows Dempsey's hand, taking a second before seeing the same. "Perhaps, American. You do have a point."

[ 2 ] chapter 2 ; welcome to hell, american

There's a blue beam of light, signifying the existence of the mystery box inside the church. Demspey hums, quite happy about that at least. Hopefully Samantha was nice enough to spawn some hidden ammo stashes for when they ran out or get low – he was quite notorious for being trigger happy and running out of ammo quickly.

Hey, at least he took care of his gun when he had the time to.

They continued to make their way through the snow, had it only being less than ten minutes of arrival. Dempsey noticed that Takeo and Richtofen were colder due to not having jackets or long sleeves like he and Nikolai had. Richtofen seemed extremely cold although, compared to the headstrong Japanese man who refused to admit he was cold. Tank sighed heavily, taking off his jacket and holding it out to Richtofen.

"Dempsey? Why are you giving me your jacket? You're-" Dempsey held up his hand, making Richtofen take it. "Doc, you're shivering more than any of us. You're also the one we have to follow here, I don't want to hear you whine about wanting some soup and your nose being stuffy." The American rolls his eyes, forcing a shiver from surfacing.

Richtofen thanked him and put on the marine's coat. It was warm from his body heat, and quite soft on the inside. Dempsey wasn't going to lie, Richtofen looked quite cute in his coat.

"Oh focus Tank!" He shakes his head, yelling at himself in his mind. Dempsey powered through the cold the best he could, not wanting to really show how cold he did feel in just a t-shirt. His pride wouldn't let him.

Eventually they reached the entrance, wooden planks nailed over the two doors to the church. Nikolai takes his hammer from his belt and starts to pry the nails out of the boards. Dempsey helps without speaking, pulling the bloodied planks off and stack them aside. It was kind of nice how they silently agreed for once.

Unfortunately for them, it took a good bit to clear the entrance to the church which means they had to sit in the snow and cold wind longer than they wished. Things were placed behind the doors, benches and heavy boxes filled with bibles and books, being barricaded from the inside. They moved into the hallway after forcing those things aside, Takeo giving a shiver.

"I expected it to be... warmer." His nose wrinkles as he breathes in the stale air, looking to the side to one of his friends. Dempsey had to agree, but he took a step forward, walking down the carpeted hallway to double doors that were once barricaded. Emphasis on once.

The items that blocked the doors were knocked and spread all over, blood that seemed old and semi-recent splattered on the ground and walls. He hummed, why was there new blood? To be honest he never saw any zombies openly bleeding and spilling their guts out randomly unless they were shot or killed.

This was the room people would come to pray and listen to someone speak about religion, sitting on the wooden benches.

Dempsey suspects that someone or something is here, and he's not sure what. Maybe he's not as dumb as the others say he is.

At this point, Dempsey couldn't give a damn about how Christian churches worked after contemplating it. He just wanted out.

"Scan over this area, I'm gonna take upstairs." He says to the three who had gone and caught up with him, to which the others nod. He goes to walk towards the stairs, placing his hand on the metal railing. He halts at the third step to turn back to the group. "Richtofen." He calls.

The German seems a bit startled at first, "Yes, Dempsey?" He strides over to Demspey on the stairs. "How about you come with me, we'll do two and two. That way none of us die for good." Demspey offers, though it sounds more like a command.

Richtofen hums, tapping a finger on his chin before saying. "Fine Dempsey! Let's go take a look around, shall we?" Demspey nods, heading up the stairs with Richtofen behind him.

"Take that room, I'll be over here." He points to a random room on the left, it looks like a storage room. Dempsey walks down the hall a bit, getting a gut feeling to draw his pistol so he does. He pushes the door open to a room with furniture, sheets placed on top of them.

"Right out of the horror films," He laughs a bit. He walks around the room, looking for crates, chests, anything that looks like it would stash ammo.

There's soft footsteps behind him as he's rummaging through a box. He notices them as they stop, getting up and turning around to see who he thought was Richtofen. "Did you f-"

Dempsey couldn't finish the sentence before getting attacked by an old woman, but she wasn't a zombie. He falls to the ground, his pistol clattering against the wooden floor. "Get off of-" Something sharp sinks into his shoulder near his neck. Her fucking teeth.

He starts to reach for his pistol while fighting against her grip, eventually grabbing ahold of the gun and shooting the lady in the head. God, he hoped she wasn't someone important.

He begins to sit up, her blood spilled all over his shirt. He grunts, throwing her body off. Richtofen comes running in, "Dempsey! What happened?" He looks at him, getting up.

"I'm fine Doc, I killed it. She must've just got affected by the 115, that's all." He reassures him.

"Why don't you help me look around in here? Take these sheets and use them for bedding, might be good." Dempsey causally changes topics, stepping over the corpse and taking an already dirtied sheet to clean the blood off himself.

Now that he thinks about it, he feels a little weird. There’s tingling around where she had bit him. Dempsey knows that isn’t a good sign, especially in his book.

______

sorry if its super long, im on mobile !!

#cod zombies #codz #edward richtofen #codz oc #tank dempsey #zombies #takeo masaki #nikolai belinski #primis #long story yes

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