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mirasantidotes · 2 years ago

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It Ends With You - Chapter 1, "Rough Edges"

(GIFs not mine)

Summary: After Joel and Ellie land in Jackson, Wyoming, Joel spends his first day exploring the town. He finally ends his first night in a bar where you're playing your guitar on stage, and you catch his attention.

Character Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!oc (Vanessa)

Content Warnings: soft!joel, nothing bad ever happens at tommy's, eventual established relationship, hella slow burn, ellie making fun of joel for being old as shit, mentions of alcohol/getting tipsy, oc is referred to as you, mentions of stress/anxiety, mentions of being stabbed, oc's appearance (hair) is described but race isn't mentioned. (let me know if I missed anything!)

WC: 1.1K

A/N: sorry this is so short loves, the other chapters are gonna be two to three times as long! I'm not even sure that I like how this chapter turned out tbh, but I hope you all like it anyways <3

Divider by: saradika

It was blistering— the sweaty clothes clung to Joel's body in the summer's heat, making him feel even more depleted. The humid air made it hard to breathe, but that didn't stop the exhausted man from running right up to Tommy and giving him the biggest hug he could manage after arriving in Jackson, Wyoming. Dogs had almost just mauled Ellie, and Joel had nearly lost the only person who had been able to fill that pain that's lingered in his heart for so many years. He was emotionally and physically exhausted.

After finally getting some much-needed food in Ellie and Joel's systems, they both went to clean up— God knows they needed it. For days, Ellie has been pestering Joel to take a shower, and she finally got her wish. Joel walked down the stairs of their newly assigned Jackson home. Ellie caught him off guard, as she had finished getting freshened up first, “Well, don't you look pretty?

“Shut up,” Joel replies sternly, glaring the girl down as he lightly adjusts his new shirt, which seems a tad too small to fit his broad figure, before crossing his arms against his chest. “I'm thinkin' of walking around town for a bit, just to scope the place out, y'know?” he says, looking out the window into the bustling town. “Wanna come with?” he asks, shifting his gaze to Ellie again.

“Nah, I'll pass, old man. I'm gonna go to sleep,” Ellie replies, standing up from her chair before stretching her arms in the air and letting out a yawn.

“Suit yourself then,” he mutters as he looks back out the window, “see you later, kid,” he says as he turns towards the door to walk out.

He could hear Ellie wander upstairs before closing the front door behind him, facing the swarming nature of the town he'd finally found Tommy in. He was still wary of living in a town like this, but he knew it'd be a good thing for both him and Ellie— to be able to live a decently normal life; and hey, maybe Joel could finally get that sheep farm he's been talking so much about to Ellie.

After several hours of just poking in and out of buildings and talking to a few different people who walked the tight roads of Jackson, it turned evening, and the atmosphere was chilly and quiet. The summer's heat had finally retired for the day, and the moon took its turn lightly illuminating the town's buildings.

Joel landed his eyes on one of the only buildings still bustling with people— a late-night bar. He heard the soft sounds of bottles clinking and music playing as he entered the building. He couldn't help but feel out of place; all of these people knew each other, and he knew virtually nobody.

The bartender saw Joel standing there like a lost puppy, snapping him out of his weird trance, “Hey there, what can I get 'cha?” she asked politely as she wiped down the counter with a rag. Joel looks at the woman before walking a few steps towards one of the stools and sitting himself down.

“Just some whiskey,” Joel replies, resting his elbows on the counter and intertwining his fingers. The bartender nods as she reaches under the bar to get a glass and a bottle of whiskey before pouring it.

Several drinks later, Joel's furrowed brows and his shoulders untense— all the weight he'd been carrying the last couple of months finally lifting from his body as the warm liquid flowed throughout his veins. Joel's attention shifts to the environment around him; he's no longer focused on the fact that he almost lost Ellie or nearly died from a stab wound a few weeks back. He was finally able to rest his mind in the bar's atmosphere.

The familiar sound of a song he hadn't heard since before the apocalypse caught his attention. He shifts his gaze to the right of him, looking onto the stage— his eyes land on a woman with dark shoulder-length hair singing into a microphone as she holds a red guitar with a white pickguard. This woman was you; you had managed to get your hands on a guitar on one of your runs with the crew in Jackson, and you were able to convince Tommy to let you play on the bar's stage a couple of nights a week with a few of your friends that you've known for a few years now.

After playing at the bar a few times, Tommy had brought back a few different instruments and asked if you'd be willing to teach some of the kids in Jackson how to play them. You agreed immediately— you've been in love with music since you were a child when your father taught you how to play the guitar for the first time, and you wanted that same experience for the kids living in the town you and your friends found several months back that you all now reside in.

Joel couldn't deny he found you beautiful— the way your hair would fall lightly into your face as you would take small pauses to play your guitar before focusing back on the words of the song you were singing. Not to mention how your fingers seamlessly glided across the neck of the guitar as you played the chords, letting your body melt into the song's mood as you interacted with the few friends you had on stage, playing right along with you.

Tommy sitting on the stool next to Joel’s as he gave him a light tap on the shoulder startled him, to say the least— “Hey man, you enjoyin' yourself so far?”

“Yeah, seems like a nice place you got here, Tommy,” Joel replies, shifting his gaze to his brother before looking back at you, still on stage, now playing a different song than before.

Tommy's gaze follows Joels, landing on you. “That's Ness,” he says, giving a slight nod in your direction before looking back at Joel, who meets his gaze halfway. “You should go talk to her, man.”

“Yeah?” Joel mumbles before taking the last sip of whiskey in his glass and setting it back down. The whiskey made him even more tired than he was when he arrived in Jackson that morning. He felt far too exhausted to try and talk to you now. He told himself he would talk to you the following day; surely he'd run into you, right?

“Best be careful though, she's got some rough edges on her, but she's real nice once you get t'know her.”

Joel nods at Tommy's warning, and after saying his goodnights to Tommy and giving him a pat on the back, he walks out of the bar and heads back to the place he'd now have to practice calling home with the intent to talk to you the next day.

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal character #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal fluff #pedropascal fanfiction #joel miller #joel miller fanfic #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fluff #joel miller pedro pascal #joel miller x fem!oc #joel miller x oc #it ends with you fanfic

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aresxseunggi · 1 year ago

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115— say hello to honey <3

MOVED FROM DISCORD - continued from here.

regular smegular: @idleds <3

blockquote: me

“i can explain—“

or maybe not? depended on ares, he supposed. but he kind of figured that the thirty pound puppy shaking one of their couch’s throw pillows like her life depended on it was definitely worth explaining. especially considering seunggi’s initial reaction to muffin all those months ago— it was a little odd that he’d just randomly bring a puppy home.

but look at her!

“should i explain? i can explain.” even as he tried to tug the pillow from the little things mouth while avoiding the paper towel scraps she’d mauled not even two minutes earlier.

ares couldn’t really help the way he stopped in his tracks — not right away, of course. it took him a few seconds to connect the dots. was that a dog? it was. it was a dog. a tiny dog — or a puppy, at least. one that was going to town on one of their pillows. “um,” it was murmured softly as his brain tried to make sense of it. however. it only took him a few seconds to get moving again. ares didn’t really need his brain to catch up right now, it was a puppy. a puppy that he oh so badly wanted to touch, and hold. maybe. “look at you,” it was all but cooed as a smile broke out on his lips and he walked around the couch. falling to his knees only made sense, hands reaching for the puppy even as his eyes lifted to seunggi. “who is this, baby?”

see, seunggi could sense ares was trying to figure out who this dog was or where she came from. and he would’ve liked to have watch him try and put the pieces together, but——

again. pillow. pillow that just happened to be seunggi’s favorite to lay on when ares wasn’t an option.

“her name is honey,” seunggi answered, trying to point the little puppy’s attention towards ares for long enough that he could sneak the cushion out from her mouth. he would have tried opening her mouth himself, but the little bit marks scattered on his fingers proved that such a thing didn’t work. “they had one of those pop-up adoptions across the street at work. and she— she was the only big dog there, so i had to, you know?” they had a yard fit for her, after all. “plus…” his head tilted in amusement, a soft laugh slipping free. “she wouldn’t stop climbing all over me.” he kneeled down, too, just to scratch at her back. “took it as a sign.”

there was a soft little gasp at hearing her name, smile still present as his gaze dropped right back down to the puppy. “come here sweet girl,” it was said softly, sweetly, even. maybe it was to make up for the way ares all but snatched the puppy up to bring to his chest. even if it got him a few kisses, nips even — he didn’t care right now. “oh my god,” okay, yeah. he was happy. so happy his cheeks were starting to hurt from how big he was smiling as he fell back to sit on his bum. “she’s ours?” a little double checking didn’t hurt anyone, but ares was already assuming as much. a puppy that seunggi impulsively adopted at work? and brought home? to chew their pillows? yeah, he loved it. “you got us a puppy?” ares was almost exploding with love right now, “come give me a kiss before i cry.”

“yes, honey— she’s all ours,” seunggi laughed, his smile growing wider as he watched ares get all but tackled by the new puppy. “muffin’s hiding in terror right now, i think, just because she’s so loud, but—“ both of his hands fell to the dog’s bum, just to wiggle her around a little. “she’s ours.” he… might be a little unprepared without a crate and more than a week’s worth of dog food, but they’d get there! they would! she seemed to be having fun, and that was before any squeaky toys were brought home. he let out another soft laugh at ares’ words, hobbling his way closer to press a kiss to his husband’s lips without squishing their new baby. “good surprise?”

ares really did feel like he was melting here. maybe it was to be expected, though, considering the puppy love he was receiving. “oh, poor muffin — we gotta introduce them all.” and of course keep a close eye on the three of them until they were certain honey wouldn’t … look at poppy as a snack. so. other than that, though, he was excited about every aspect of this. “great surprise.” so great ares was pressing in for another peck, and then he was freeing the puppy so she could move freely. “you’re amazing,” another peck, because he could. “i love you.”

#ag1 #threads #dscrd #115

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taiblogcomics · 2 years ago

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Reptil’s No Longer Dino-Sore

Hey there, dated CGI. I didn't realise how quickly this batch of Avengers Arena was coming to an end, but yeah. This week, next week, and then we'll move on again. Time flies when you're not having fun, eh~?

Here's the cover:

See, now, if this was instead the cover of a paperback romance novel, that shit would sell like hotcakes. As it is, it's merely a cover of this series, but at least it's one of the better ones! Though if Hazmat has that much skin exposed, Reptil is probably sterile by now, if not outright riddled with radiation sickness. That's a bad way for a romance story to end. Or begin, for that matter! Or maybe dinosaurs are resistant to radiation. Who knows? I don't know if paleontologists can tell that kind of thing~

So we open by catching back up with Reptil, in case that wasn't obvious from the cover. He's starting with how he has all these fantastic dinosaur powers, including being able to swim and fly. Sorry, dude, but if that's so, then you just have prehistoric reptile powers. Dinosaurs were land only. If they lived in water or flew, they weren't dinosaurs. Except Archeopteryx. But I digress. He is, in fact, using some aquatic reptile powers at the moment, and he looks more like a big frog than any dinosaurs I could name.

So what's Reptil doing in the water? Hunting sharks and moping. The moping is mostly that dinosaur powers haven't solved all his real problems: finding his parents, getting the girl, not ending up in this crappy series. Know what turning into a dinosaur can do, though? Hunt sharks. Frankly, having food is a real problem if you ask me, so he's doing a great job. When he returns to shore, Hazmat makes him stay back long enough for her to get dressed, and then getting really hyped when she realises they're having shark steaks.

There's a few things going on with their "group". Their group of two. One is that Hazmat keeps thinking Reptil is peeping and perving on her. Like, she gets it, hormones are hormones, she's pretty understanding. She's also pretty radioactive, and that can't be good. The other issue, which they bring up over lunch, is that Hazmat really doesn't seem interested in moving on now that Reptil's burns are healed. He thinks they should find the rest of the teens, but she's pretty content to live on this beach and eat shark steaks and coconuts. Honestly, she's not wrong~

Anyways, who knows where the others are? It's not like they're going to fall out of the sky on top of them. This is when the rest of the teens fall out of the sky on top of them, the residuals of Nico's teleport spell from last issue. They explain the situation as best they can, and that's when X-23 wakes up. Fortunately, the trigger scent has worn off by now, so she doesn't immediately maul Reptil and Hazmat. Instead, Hazmat gives her a hug. Aw. Once again, I like seeing these characters actually working together and besing friends.

Hazmat offers the rest of them shark steaks, and while Nara and Anachronism (against his will) take her up on it, the others (X-23, Cammi, and Cullen Bloodstone) confront Reptil on what's going on. So, hey, you remember that issue where Reptil got burned? Turns out that was two weeks ago. I knew there were a lot of problems with this series, but one I didn't expect was its shit timescale and how bad it was at indicating how much time had passed. Like, you go back and read those issues I've reviewed since then. Does that sound like two weeks have passed? Two days, maybe.

Anyways, two weeks hanging out on the beach waiting for Reptil to heal has kinda driven the will out of Hazmat, and she's kinda content to just rot on this beach instead of fighting for her survival. Yeah, I dunno! I'm inclined to side with Hazmat on this one. If she sat here for two weeks without Arcade or Apex fucking with her, sounds pretty good to me. Nonetheless, the rest of the group decide she's a coward, and they opt to go out and see if Nico is okay. In spite of everything, they feel Nico's earned that. And, honestly, I respect that too. Leave no friend behind.

Reptil goes to Hazmat, confronting her about her attitude. She starts to undress to keep him away, but maybe dinosaurs are radiation-resistant, because he just pins her down and starts yelling how he can't stand to see her give up. After all, Mettle didn't die to see her rot away on a beach doing nothing. Yeah, she responds, in tears now, but he still died. Arcade snapped his fingers, Mettle exploded, and she couldn't do a thing about it. Being Hazmat hasn't helped at all.

And you'd expect this to be where it ends, but despite her breakdown, there's a cut to 20 minutes later, and as Reptil and the rest are prepping to leave, Hazmat turns up to go with them, having composed herself. She puts it a little pessimistically (”Let’s go die trying.”), but the spirit’s there. And Reptil ends on possibly the most positive note in the whole comic: Maybe friends are a liability in Murderworld, he thinks. But who's ever survived without having one~?

Yeah, gotta say, this is one of the better issues. You know it’s true when one of my only complaints is how bad the passage of time is displayed. Thank god for Reptil, huh? He’s breathed some optimism back into this wreck of a book. Only seven issues left, buddy! Let’s hope you can maintain it~!

#comics #reviews #Avengers Arena #Taiblog

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sydorax-squid · 2 years ago

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The Life Of Jeanne Boulet

Jeanne Boulet awoke irritably at sunrise. It was a chilly June morning in Gévaudon and she needed to go out and tend the sheep. She groaned inwardly. Soon, very soon, she would be courted by handsome men and married off and she would never again need to spend her days out in the fields warding off wolves with a stick.

“I am fourteen,” she told herself as she got dressed for the day. “Girls have been married younger than that.” The young woman looked at herself in a dirty piece of mirror. She gently poked her face, her round cheeks and bright eyes were very fetching and pleasing to see. “So why,” she wondered. “Has no man shown interest?”

She was disheartened. A pretty lady shouldn’t be out watching sheep all day, every day! She should be in town, catching the eye of strong young men that want families and home-cooked meals. Poor Jeanne Boulet sighed, tying back her long brown hair. Perhaps she could convince her parents that Claude was old enough now to take her place. His ninth birthday was in October, that was close enough.

Gévaudon was a quiet place, apart from the occasional mauling that was fairly commonplace in rural France. An expected fact of life; death, swift and sudden. But the sheep were precious, they fed and clothed the lucky few who survived the wars, the beasts, the sicknesses and those yet unaffected by the ravages of time. One way or another, death would come. Death was consistent.

Poor Jeanne Boulet knew all about the inevitability of death; she’d watched it claim her younger sister. Death came in the form of illness without cure, and it ate up her sister from the inside, hollowing her out, whittling her down to naught but bones with cheesecloth skin holding them together. Jeanne Boulet had watched little Maria die, held her skeletal hand as God’s angels took her away to be reunited with the Lord. Jeanne had believed then that God took Maria because He missed her up in Heaven. But that was only the first. The longer Jeanne Boulet lived, the more people she knew were reunited with God, the less that thought seemed to comfort her. She began to wonder why God would send people down here at all if He was just going to take them back after a few years. God was being selfish, thinking only about how much He missed these people and not how much their living friends and family would miss those He took back.

Jeanne Boulet had grown to dislike this aspect of God. He had taken many of her friends and siblings away, too, as well as her grandparents. She wasn’t so mad about her grandparents. By the time death came for them, they were too old to work; they just ate and slept and took up space. God did them and her family a favor, saving them from prolonged suffering, probably as an apology for what Maria went through a few years prior. Jeanne still loved God; she prayed to Him and spoke to Him often when out alone in the fields. She simply didn’t agree with him on a few things, which was fine. She had noticed that blind, mindless faith was like a pumpkin left on the vine; eventually it will rot and crack and the innards will spill out to be eaten or buried by animals. Stagnation led to death. That’s why God gave them challenges, to save them from wretched stagnation.

“He’s challenging me now,” Jeanne Boulet muttered to herself, staring out at the sheep as they grazed peacefully. “Testing my patience. Well, I’m patient enough. You can stop it.” She smiled to herself. Maybe God would reward her unyielding tenacity with a loving, handsome husband! One that would carry her away from Gévaudon and sheep and long lonely days filled with dread.

“Do You ever get lonely, Lord?” she inquired, waiting on an answer that never came. “I would think so. You’re unique, peerless. It must be hard, being the only one. Nobody to relate to.” She nodded. “I know what that’s like. I’m lonely, too. But at least I have You.” She looked up into the sky, observing the big flock of fluffy sheep wandering across the blue prairie above her head. She felt a comforting warmth in her bosom at the thought. God was always there, listening and watching. Even if she never found a husband, at least she had the company of God. The idea made her rather happy. God was without death, He was eternal, the one constant in life anyone could turn to for positivity, for love, for comfort. During the worst times; times of war, famine, disease and suffering… He was always there.

Jeanne Boulet’s mind wandered by memories of her grandfather. He was always quick to blame misfortune on the Almighty. Everything that went wrong in life was God’s fault, but the little miracles and successes were never equally owed to that same all-powerful deity. Bon-papa never praised or cherished God’s gifts. He was bitter and angry and chose instead to blame all of his problems on a higher power, never taking accountability upon himself.

Grand-mére was different. She chose to see the suffering and hardships of life as gifts in their own right. Jeanne could remember her words; “Everything we go through, every blessing and every hurtle is a gift from God that we must cherish. These things shape us, mold us, make us who we are. For better or worse, good or bad, we are the sum of our experiences and every one of those experiences are because of God.” Grand-mére was ancient and wise, if not a burden on the family in her final days, though she was remembered with great fondness.

Poor Jeanne Boulet saw a sheep had wandered off a bit and she quickly went to bring it back to the bulk of the flock. She sighed, stroking the animal’s thick, warm wool. The animal bayed quietly, walking deep into the billowing fold of it’s fellows. Jeanne found herself longing for a husband again. She wanted a family of her own, she wanted to have a few babies, live in a nice town, in a warm, red-brick house; far from sheep and this solitary life.

“Am I asking too much?” Jeanne inquired. “I’ll be happy to be married before I turn sixteen. That’s how old Maman was when she married Papa. Maman and Papa are much older now and they had seven children. But it’s just me and Claude left. If I have any hope of having my own children, I must start soon. Please, God, let me have children. I’ll keep tending sheep, I’ll even work in the fields if it means I can have my own family.”

Bargaining with God; how silly! Jeanne shook her head. No one ever got anywhere that way. She just needed to trust in Him, in His plan for her. But what if what God wanted for her wasn’t what she wanted? How could she just trust that His silent intentions were best for her? She wanted so much to believe as her grandmother had; with her entire heart. But what about asking questions? Jeanne Boulet was young and curious. She naturally had many, many questions that brewed inside her, whirling around in a quizzical tornado, wrecking havoc on her heart.

“If only You would talk to me,” she said, upturning her eyes once again to the sky, searching for any little sign of… anything. She sighed, sitting down on the freshly-chewed grass. She lay her staff down across her lap, absently picking at a loose fiber of wood she spotted there.

One of the sheep looked up, it’s ears twitching nervously. Two more ewes joined the first, their rectangular pupils dilating as they looked around. Jeanne Boulet was busy picking at the wood staff, thinking about what kind of husband she might someday have, about God’s possible intentions for her life, and whether or not God controlled every little detail of everyone’s lives.

More and more sheep ceased their grazing, their bodies tensing under their woolen coats. Poor Jeanne Boulet was far too deep in thought to notice the warning signs, not before it was terminally too late.

The sheep began baying and bleating frantically, stomping and prancing, bumping into each other and then Jeanne. The young woman shot to her feet, looking around the field at the panicking animals, clutching her only means of defense tightly in her hands. The sheep split apart, moving and flowing over the ground like water, revealing just what had upset them.

Poor, poor Jeanne Boulet. She stood there, alone in the quickly emptying field, faced with something that she couldn’t quite comprehend.

It was so large. Jeanne had seen wolves before, but this was much bigger than a wolf. The creature in question was the size of a cow, lean in frame with a broad chest. It snarled at her with a wide mouth set in a flattened snout, flashing two-dozen vicious bone-daggers at the fourteen-year-old girl. It shook a dog-like head, the foreign face and pointed ears directed, focused on the unfortunate Jeanne. She noticed the color of the fur; tawny with a black stripe that ran the length of the beast’s spine. A strange color for a wolf.

Jeanne swung the stick at the enormous monster as it approached, it’s unusually long tail swayed back and forth, a little tuft on the end like some mocking decoration. She shouted at it, swinging the stick again. She stepped back, her foot hit a stone and her body tumbled backward to the ground. She saw the beast leap towards her, revealing a soft white stomach just before it pounced.

Poor Jeanne Boulet felt the full weight of the cow-sized creature hit her, the many sharp teeth closed around her slender neck. As the needly points sank into her flesh, she wondered if God was still there with her. Was he watching? She felt a very sharp pain, a pull at her throat, then she was staring up at the bloody maw of the monster.

She felt cold.

She tried to speak, to apologize to God for being mad at him. But Jeanne Boulet’s throat was gone, swallowed up by the anomalous creature. She was scared, yes, but not alone.

God was there with her, as He always had been and forever would remain. He was always there when they needed Him, always.

Jeanne Boulet closed her eyes.

END

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stardustdiiving · 1 year ago

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I FELL ASLEEP BUT IM BACK. ok so the first thing about the chilumi yuri vision is…while obviously of course I think Childe’s sexuality is based less on appearance or gender and far more on how much he wants to fight someone in hand to hand combat as a form of quality time, and therefore a part of it is him going “wow I love the kind of woman that can kick my ass” about Lumine that some ppl do…but also I have elaborations on this

I think Lumine works for Childe because if he reaaaaally wants to fight her and is like “pleeeaaase Traveler i havent seen you in forever and want to catch up with you on what my siblings are up to over a friendly spar, i’ll even forgo using a weapon and/or tie a hand behind my back so I’m at a disadvantage if that would be more fun (I would definitely find it more fun). Pleaaaaaseee?”, Lumine is down to fight him. So they do, and at some point after said recreational sparring session they both got really into, Childe is like sprawled out on the ground with a bloody nose looking very emotionally enriched by this experience, and looks over to Lumine (who also has a bloody nose and is brushing the dust off herself while chilling) and is like “heyyyy Traveler. Question” and Lumine is like “yeah”, so Childe is like “do you think that I could be a #girl to you”

And Lumine, who is very used to having to pause to process Childe saying peculiar things especially about himself and his own self image, is like “please elaborate”, to which Childe goes on a tangent explaining he doesn’t exactly mind being viewed as a guy or a girl per-say because his ultimate ideal gender is A Well Crafted and Cool Looking Weapon, Lumine’s Cool Gender has given him much to think about, and you know he would personally love to be girl best friends with someone

The key factor here is Lumine is actually hilariously not unfamiliar with accidentally causing Sapphic Awakenings in other genshin characters, because sometimes said awakenings come less in the form of “oh girls are pretty” and more-so seeing a lesbian with cool gender (in this case Lumine) and being like wow 1) I am gay 2) I want whatever she has going on gender wise here so bad it’s unreal. Usually when I say this people think it exclusively applies to the women in thr genshin cast, but no…..you arent gender impacting hard enough. Childe is also included here. If you are me you will understand perfectly. He’s like if a weapon was either a man or a woman. He’s like, 110% coolest big brother ever but also in the context of Chilumi here is Lumine’s girlfriend. Is Childe the local white boy? Yes. this a gay relationship? Yes. Is it yuri? Also yes. Does Childe specifically ID as sapphic? No/it depends. Is Lumine a woman? No, she is simply a lesbian with cool gender. Chilumi yuri transcends the gender binary and confuses absolutely everyone around them for several reasons

So in response to Childe’s gender tangent Lumine is like “well Childe we can be girl best friends if you really want” and Childe is like OMG….really? And Lumine is like yeah sure go for it👍 Which starts the most bizarre situationship known to man. Again. It confuses absolutely everyone for several reasons. Neither Childe or Lumine are really looking to pursue a longterm committed romantic relationship or anything (Childe isn’t in the most stable headspace for one + Lumine just isn’t interested in it) so instead what we get is Childe walking around looking like he got mauled by a small beast and everyone’s like Dude what the hell happened to you and he’s like oh I just got back from a great date with my girlfriend ^__^ we hiked up one of the local trails and then fist fought each other in the woods before closing off the evening with me showing her how to wrestle large fish in the lake to eat them. And everyone turns to Lumine desperate for a proper explanation and she’s just like “yeah see I just think this is emotionally enriching for him. And for me. I’m kind of fascinated with his peculiar white boy and/or girl charm and tendency to say things only someone with under-diagnosed disorders would say. Solid dude. Get you a gf who can catch fish with his teeth you know” Which, of course, clears up absolutely nothing

Another factor here is Lumine isn't really saddled with fixing Childe's issues or anything she just treats him like a person and is very chill/accepting of him being “a little odd” sometimes, and this sort of presence is just good for Childe mentally IMO, bc I think it’s good for him to not have to swap between different facets of his identity (Ajax vs Tartagilia, for ex) and have people he can just be himself with in a more middle ground way. A lot of the time its just very silly but Lumine is probably someone Childe would feel more comfortable opening up to or at least trying to process his issues around. There’s a bit of a tragedy here where it genuinely could work well for them but Childe kind of struggles to connect with people as a person bc of his dissociation from his own personhood to cope with his trauma, and, of course, while I think Traveler enjoys forming meaningful emotional connections and is down with a lot of flings or casual relationships Lumine’s traveling lifestyle isn’t really suited for settling down for a committed stable one in the way that might work best for Childe, esp now when he’s still an active Harbringer

They work for each other and there’s a lot of good self realizations about identity they can glean from one another but their circumstances are always hovering over everything in the background. This is yuri to me

Is this a safe space. Can I pitch my chilumi yuri vision to you all.

I keep seeing people in passing branding it as like “straight ship people are creepily heteronormative about” and this is a deep tragedy to me personally because Im operating on 7 levels of absurd silliness and think it can be insane yuri

#chilumi #Childe #Lumine #genshin #fern.txt #everytime I talk abt Genshin ships I’m like hey I am so sorry I usually phrase everything in a very bizzare way that I find #silly personally. if u do not agree that is understandable I just exist with 20 hyper specific interpretations #of dynamics constantly. NCHNFJVJV

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kureis-writing-hell · 3 years ago

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For sure not a cat

@vhs-catastrophe Thank you! I love Black Hat acting like some kind of eldritch cat and doing everything the wrong way (but he still somehow gets what he wants huh).

I consider 2k words short, okay?

WARNING for some bits of gore and a dead dove (literally!!!)

Flug didn’t own a cat.

In fact, no one in the mansion owned a cat. Maybe in the neighborhood? But then why would a neighborhood cat bring him a dead animal out of nowhere?

It was a blue bird, hardly recognizable due to being thoroughly mauled. And it was laying on Flug’s precious, steryle, white desk! The doctor watched it from a few steps away for a moment, hoping the dead animal would disappear if stared at long enough. It didn’t. If anything its presence got even more obvious. Flug didn’t want to catch some disgusting disease from touching a dead animal. He didn’t have his gloves yet and they were laying right by the dead bird!

Okay, this was not the worst crisis Flug ever had to face. He just had to come up with a solution. He was good with it after all!

“Demencia! I have a snack for you!” The doctor sing-sang.

In a few seconds the vent’s crate fell down from the ceiling and hit the floor. Demencia’s head popped out of the hole, she blinked at Flug and smiled.

“Snack!”

“Yes, right there.”

Flug pointed out on his desk. Demencia glared at the dead bird, made an excited sound and fell from the vents. Flug yelped, it was a long way from the ceiling down to the floor, but the girl seemed fine. She jumped on the desk - thankfully no glass was stored on it this time - grabbed the corpse and held it over her head like a treasure. She cackled maniacally.

When she stuck the bird in her mouth Flug felt his own breakfast coming back to his throat. He grimaced.

“Mmm it was roasted!” Demencia jumped down, crawled to Flug and brushed her hair against his leg, making the doctor shiver. “Thanks, nerd!”

With that she was gone from the lab. Flug shook off the feeling of her touching him, he had no idea where she was after all, and sighed. He had to disinfect half of the lab now.

Black Hat couldn’t believe it. How dare Flug give away his gift? He didn’t even consider it as a gift!

Was that not what men liked to be courted with? How come? Catching something so small and fast was not an easy deed, even to Black Hat. Sure, it was child play to shoot birds that sat on a nearby tree or the fence, but those who were flying were easily avoiding being shot! Black Hat took two, whole hours to chase and shoot that particular bird, in Flug’s favorite color! And Flug sent it to waste in Demencia’s stomach? How rude!

Women were so much easier to woo. A rose, a few, suave words, a light touch and she was yours. But men? They were easy to get into your bed but not to tangle around your finger. Of course, Flug was already tangled around his finger, but it was not enough.

Oh. Maybe the bird wasn’t just spectacular enough. Yeah! Such a small creature was difficult to catch, sure, but wasn’t a good opponent. Not like anything in this world could be to Black Hat, but it was for sure way lower in Flug’s eyes than, let’s say, a hero.

Now Black Hat felt disappointed in himself. He obviously underestimated Flug. How could he? A dead bird was nothing. It was still horrible to kill such a small, innocent creature, it was still difficult, but Black Hat forgot horrible doesn’t mean evil. And Flug, while he usually acted stupid and cowardy, had evil roarm in his veins. Yes. Black Had had to step up his game. Forget the childish attempts and go for the finale from the start.

The next day there was no bird in his lab. There was a whole scene taken right out of the Hannibal series Demencia loved so much.

Flug entered the room, screamed and jolted out, slamming the door behind himself. Once the first shock wore off he took a breath and entered again.

There was no possible way Demencia could get rid of this all. Right over his desk (again his desk!), was hanging a man, getting blood everywhere. Flug was so close to going into a panic attack, the filth was all over his desk, the floor and his favorite chair. Thanks to everything that’s unholy he had his cup in his hand right now, because otherwise he would have to throw it out.

“Wow!” Flug heard a whistle behind his back and turned around, soothing. Demencia was peeking inside with an amused look on her face.

“Did you do that?!”

“What? No way, I don’t hate you that much!” She laughed and Flug felt hair, rising on his nape. If it wasn’t her stupid prank, and obviously wasn’t 5.0.5. then… “Well, anyway, good luck with cleaning all that!”

Demencia’s laughter stayed with him even when she was too far away to be heard. Flug was still thinking deeply about this. Did he do something wrong? Crossed a line somehow? Pissed Black Hat so much he decided he’s finally done? Whatever it was Flug shouldn’t anger his boss anymore. He should quickly clean up and go back to work.

The doctor turned around again, to take the body down and start mopping, but instead he smacked face first into a wall. He thought it was a wall. Wondering where it came from he stepped back and saw what it really was.

Black Hat’s chest.

Flug held back the urge to fall on the floor and start bowing deeply before Black Hat could painfully force him to do so. Instead he stepped one more time back, putting a professional distance between him and his boss.

“S-sir! What! Why would! So early in the morning?!” Internally, the doctor facepalmed and cursed his nerves. He was most likely standing on the verge of his coffin right now, couldn’t he save some dignity at least now?

Black Hat looked at him, with that wide, dangerous smile. Flug felt his shirt stick to his back with sweat. He was doomed, wasn’t he?

“Do you have something you want to tell me, doctor?” Black Hat wasn’t used to being patient. He couldn’t possibly wait the whole day for Flug to finally finish his work and come to his office, thanking him and apologizing for not getting the signals earlier. He wanted it right away.

“Oh.” Flug’s voice was thin, his body rigid. Black Hat smiled even wider. “I’m, I’m sorry?”

“For?”

The monster circled the poor human, standing behind him. He watched his masterpiece. The ropes, cut skin and broken bones. The man’s heart was in his hands and there were even flowers, sticking out of some of his wounds. Black Hat was so proud with this, so much symbolism and promises!

Flug’s nerves finally took over.

“I’m so, so sorry, my master, my dear boss, my everything, I don’t know what I did wrong but whatever it was I swear, I swear I will fix it!”

“What?” Black Hat’s smile went down a little. He thought, and thought deeply about Flug and where his crazy thoughts would take him if he saw something as majestic as Black Hat’s gift. “What do you think that is?” He grabbed Flug’s shoulder and pointed at the massacre, pinning the doctor to his body.

“Ah, uh, wa-warning?”

“Warning?!”

Flug yelped and pressed himself harder against Black Hat’s body, not exactly knowing what he should do. He couldn’t get away from his boss right now, Black Hat was keeping him in place. The situation was so bizarre. Normally Flug knew right away when he did something wrong. Black Hat wasn’t someone who would be passive aggressive like that, if he was angry he just went for the kill! It was so out of character for him and-

And Flug’s thoughts halted.

The bird from yesterday, roasted, according to Demencia. The body. The fact Black Hat showed up in the lab, which he did only on special occasions or when they were recording an ad. The way the body was arranged and decorated and looked like there was actual effort.

Oh fuck. He thought his boss was a cat.

Flug’s goggles lightened up, his bag crinkled when he smiled widely. He relaxed against Black Hat’s body almost immediately, with a deep sigh and a chuckle.

“It’s a gift!”

“Obviously! Took you long enough!” Black Hat let go of Flug, pushing him and throwing his hands up. The audacity of this man! The over the top stupidity and lack of any sense of human interactions! It was an obvious gift!

“Sir but… why a body?” Flug stumbled after being pushed but caught himself from falling down. He looked at Black Hat with a hand on his chin, trying to comprehend Black Hat’s wicked train of thoughts.

“To show you how capable I am, obviously! Men love hunting, and I hunted this idiot hero by myself, is that not a clear enough message?!”

Oh.

“I mean, I was never really into hunting so-” Flug saw Black Hat’s deadly glare and quickly laughed. “It’s fine, it’s great! Just, an alive one would be a lot more usable and fun!”

Black Hat squinted, realizing Flug was right. Catching a hero alive would be a much more challenging gift than killing them on spot. And it could lead to some mutual fun too. Flug was good at many things but torturing? Oh that always was a feast to watch.

Flug didn’t want to know what the face Black Hat was giving him meant.

The doctor sighed again, the tension leaving his shoulders for once in Black Hat’s company. Then he blinked, realizing one more thing.

“Sir? Can I, maybe, ask why you would decide to give me anything at all?”

“To court you, obviously,” Black Hat answered, as if it was the most obvious thing ever.

It wasn’t.

“C-co-court?!” Flug blushed, then paled, then went through probably every step of grief that existed in one second. Finally settling down on blushing so much it was most likely visible on his neck, the doctor took a deep breath, looked at Black Hat seriously and asked: “Romantically?”

“No, spitefully. Of course romantically you dolt!”

“But I thought that lo-”

The doctor didn’t get to finish because Black Hat grabbed his chin and shut his mouth down. He leaned down over Flug, tugging him closer, cornering the human with his body. And this time, instead of fear, Flug felt butterflies in his stomach.

Oh my he was courting him!

“Don’t even think about that word, doctor,” growled the monster. The way he said “doctor” always made stuff to Flug, but this time the human felt like he had the full right to feel this way. “Passion? Devotion? Worship? Yes. But there’s no place for love in this mansion.”

Black Hat systematically pulled Flug closer to himself. He put his free hand on Flug’s waist, hugged him with his arm, making the doctor shiver and stuck their bodies so close there was no free space between them. Flug swallowed. Nodded. And before he knew his bag was lifted and they were kissing and he lo- and he fell all the way into that kiss.

Before, Flug wondered a few times if having a tongue so deep down his throat would be hot. It was hundreds of times better.

“You know, my dear lord,” gasped the doctor when they peeled their faces away, breathless. “A regular boquete would be enough.”

“A boquete?” snarled Black Hat. “For you? Should it be made out of the heads of your enemies? Their guts?”

Flug laughed at the confused creature, shaking his head.

“No, sir, just flowers, regular flowers.”

Black hat huffed, rolled his visible eye and leaned down so low he was basically dipping Flug. The doctor shivered before they kissed again.

Fair enough.

#villainous #paperhat #villanos #villainous writing #paperhat writing #black hat #black hat x flug #flug slys #kenning flugslys #demencia

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under-eye-bags-arouse-me · 3 years ago

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“She’s a Good Witch” Bruno Madrigal x Fem! Reader

Summary: When Bruno struggles to fall asleep, his nieces decide to take him to a Bruja, much to his trepidation.

Tío Bruno, you know these are sleeping hours, right?” Mirabel, Isabela, and Dolores all stood, very sleepy and irritated, in front of their uncle, who was currently trying to stuff arepas into his old, tattered poncho.

“Yeah, I know, but this whole ‘sleeping’ thing is kind of new to me, and also, I just wanted some arepas,” Bruno said while laughing nervously, rushing to catch the arepas that fell through the holes of his poncho. Ever since Bruno returned, his family, especially his mother, worked extra hard to make him feel welcomed back into the family.

During the re-construction of Casita, Bruno got a new room with no stairs, much to everyone’s relief, and he had his own bed, and his vision cave was even separated from his room so that when he exited it, he wouldn’t have to stress and could rest. While he was greatly appreciative of the effort his family was putting forth, his body and mind just wouldn’t allow him to actually rest.

“Guys, I’m fine, don’t worry about me,” Bruno tried to explain to his very unconvinced nieces, who had come up with a solution to their Tío’s insomnia problem.

“That’s it,” quipped Mirabel, “We’re taking him to _______.” All the girls nodded their heads in agreeance, turning to return to their rooms. While they turned on their heels, they felt Bruno’s presence close behind, his whispers turning into tiny shouts.

“________?!?!? Who’s _______?!?!? Where are they?!?!? Why are you taking me to them,” Bruno sputtered, trying to get all of his questions answered at once.

“She’s a bruja, she lives in the mountains,” replied Isabela, a smirk growing on her face at the thought of what Bruno's face must've looked like.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, you’re taking me to a WHAT,” Bruno stammered, searching his ruana for a rosary.

“Oh, come on, we’re a family with supernatural powers, and you’re afraid of a bruja,” Mirabel smirked, teasing her uncle. “Besides, as fellow black sheeps, we have no room to judge anyone before meeting them, right?”

“Also, we haven’t seen her in a while,” Dolores added, smiling at the anticipation of seeing an old friend. “She’s sweet, you’ll like her.”

“Wait, when did you guys see a bruja?”

“We’ll see her later at sunset, I think that’s when she’s most active.”

"Hello? I'm asking a question?!?"

“Ooh, we get to see Pantera,” exclaimed Mirabel, excited to see their little furry friend once more.

“SHE HAS A PANTHER?!?!”

The girls all looked at each other, mischievous grins spreading across their face. Unfortunately, their uncle had given them an idea to torture his mind.

“Yeeeeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaahhhhh, it’s got fangs, and claws, and it’ll only let you live if it likes you,” whispered Mirabel, making little fangs with her fingers.

“It can smell your fear, too, so we suggest you man up overnight, Tío,” Dolores chimed in.

“Sleep tight, Tío,” said Isabela, leading the way for her sister and prima back to their beds, all of them laughing with their back to Bruno. Of course, them knowing the truth about you, they slept peacefully.

However, Bruno didn’t know you, and he didn’t think this was any laughing matter. As a matter of fact, he thought it was so unfunny, he stayed up all night trying to find the joke in all of this.

He laid awake, thoughts racing at the thoughts of possibly being mauled by a monstrous panther. What made you live so far from the rest of the Encanto? Were you banished there? Surely his nieces wouldn’t associate with someone that had to be banished, right?

“Bruno, hurry! She’ll be up soon,” Mirabel shouted with all the support her lungs would allow her. She, Dolores, and Isabela had all hiked up their skirts into their fists and bolted towards the top of the mountains. They couldn’t wait to see you!

Bruno, however, could. “That’s Tío Bruno to you, and there’s no need to rush, there’s plenty of time left,” he nervously chuckled out. Bruno was able to cope with some of the information his nieces had told him, like how you were a witch. Mirabel was right, he knew first-hand how it felt to be judged prematurely, but that still didn’t take the edge off of his nerves. He didn’t know what to expect, which only made his mind race that much more.

The closer they got, the more your cozy cottage adorned by vines came into view, and a garden of herbs around its perimeter. It was like a hidden treasure behind unkept, overgrown grass, and was ironically squared neatly away in an old picket fence, the white paint chipping off. You even had a rickety little swing door with a heart-shaped hole carved into it. Cute, right?

As Isabela and Dolores made a loud commotion struggling to open your fence, Mirabel decided to just jump over it all together, tripping in the process.. Bruno was baffled by his nieces’ sudden lack of composure, and athleticism, as they were so giddy and bouncy like they’d been trapped inside all day.

When they looked up, there you were, smiling at them wide while standing in your doorway. It seemed their racket tipped you off, and you kept the same energy as them.

“MIRABEL, ISABELA, DOLORES,” you shouted, running toward them at full force. First, Mirabel wrapped herself around your waist, then Isabela, and the Dolores, knocking you all down into the grass. You all only had the energy to lay there and hoot and holler in laughter.

“Mis bebés, cómo estás,” you asked them, suffocating them with hugs and kisses them all over their cheeks and noses. It felt like years when you were apart, even if you were only a mile away. But no matter how long you were apart, you could always pick up where left off last.

“A little sore, but who cares, we're here! We waited all day to come see you,” piped Isabela, who was still trying to sit up from her giggling fit.

“Why all day?”

“We brought our Tío Bruno,” replied Dolores as you helped her stand up. “He hasn’t been sleeping well.”

“Where is he?”

“He’s over the-....where’d he go?”

“Tío Bruno,” called out Mirabel. Right where Bruno had been standing was a flattened spot of grass with the basket of goodies they had brought you. There was an uncle on the loose.

“Tío Bruno, where are you,” called out Isabela. “We have someone who wants to meet you.”

While the four of you were searching for him, he had turned right back around and started walking home. Once he saw the door open, his nerves had gotten the best of him again. Plus, he saw how excited the girls were to see you, and he didn’t want to interpose on your fun. He decided he was just fine, after all, he just needed to adjust to being home.

However, he didn't get too far, as he was stopped dead in his tracks by what felt like something rattling his shins, and when he looked down to see what, or who, liked his legs so much, he was met with the purr of a black cat, who sat on his feet and looked up at him and greeted him with a tiny “meow.”

“Oh, hello,” he said, slightly unsure about where this cat came from or if he should look for some salt to throw. He crouched down to let the cat sniff his hand, and it was warmly welcomed, as the feline began brushing up against his forearm, bringing a small smile to Bruno’s face.

“I think she likes you,” you shouted from the top of the mountain, startling Bruno and forcing and giving himself whiplash. Upon your appearance, the cat trotted up to you, doing the same thing it did to Bruno’s legs to yours. “Where’d you go?”

“Oh, I was just making sure the girls got here safe and all. They seemed so excited to see you, so I was just going to leave and let them enjoy their time with you,” he said, a sad smile forming on his face.

“No, please, come in! I’ve been anticipating a visit from the Bruno Madrigal! Besides, Dolores told me all about your sleeping problem.” A clever smile played on your lips, as you watched his heart fall into his stomach. He cursed his niece's inability to keep anyone's confidence.

He was snapped out of his mental lecture by you descending towards him, extending your hand out for him to take. As you got closer to him, he took in more of your appearance. Your palenquera slid off your shoulders and you created a slit up the skirt that allowed you to move more freely and be more in touch with your practices. Bruno devoted his attention to the crystals and jewelry adorning your waist and thighs. He took in the features of your face, how long your lashes were and how they perfectly framed your eyes. He also began tracing the outline of your lips, how soft they were and, most importantly, curved into a smile for him. Not only was he afraid of you, but he was also attracted to you.

He reached out for your hand, slightly trembling, and it almost broke your heart. You pulled him with an excited jolt towards your house, earning a surprised yelp in response. You couldn’t help but notice how he looked at you. He'd respectfully looked away when caught, but he’d stare at you and his gaze would glaze over, like he was entranced by you. You could tell he didn’t get out much. You decided at that moment to show him the best time of his life.

“I found him, he was trying to escape,” you snitched, snickering at his flustered expression, not knowing how to respond.

“Tío Bruno, tsk tsk. She’s going to take great care of you,” chuckled Isabela, smiling like a madman. “Oh, and we see you met Pantera.”

“That’s the panther?!?!?”

“So, uh, how long have you been practicing Brujería?” Bruno was following close behind you, trying not to wet his feet in the river as he helping you scavenge for herbs. The nieces suggested Bruno go out and "help" you. He was hesitant, insisting he didn’t want to distract you from work, until you reassured him, saying that you “wouldn’t mind the distraction,” giving him a sly wink that made the nieces “ooh,” and waggle their eyebrows at their Tío.

“Well,” you started, standing in the river hoping to find some Clary Sage, the last ingredient for the blend. “Mí abuela was a bruja, and many people had misconceptions about her practices. They thought she was evil, so they’d wish maldades on her. One day, they made her so ill, I thought she’d die. But, she taught me how to care for her using Brujería, and she recovered faster than I’d imagined. I’ve practiced ever since,” you explained, smiling warmly as you thought of your grandmother.

“See, we’re not as scary as you thought before,” you teased, earning a shy smile from Bruno. “And don’t be so distant, I don't bite,” you laughed, splashing him out of his self-pity.

“Oh, wow. I’m sorry to hear about that, I’m glad she got better,” he replied nervously, embarrassed about his opinions of you earlier.

The two of you had wandered your way all the way to a nearby river, still with no luck in finding the Sage, but to be honest, you were okay with that. That meant that you could spend more alone time with Bruno, in addition to continuing to flirt with and fluster him.

"Hey, don't start something you can't finish," joking as he splashed you back.

"Who said anything about not finishing," splashing a larger wave at him this time.

"You wanna bet?" Soon, it went from "who can make a bigger wave," to "hope you don't drown!"

You thought you were for sure winning, until Bruno stopped playing fair and grabbed your arms, forcing you stop.

"Let go, you're cheating," you squealed.

"Sorry, can't hear you, there's WATER IN MY EARS," he jokingly reprimanded.

You two shared a hearty laugh, but as you two caught your breath, he started to stare at you again, this time not even trying to hide it.

You two were drenched, clothes clinging to your bodies. Your dress wrapped around your moonlit silhouette, hugging the curves of your breasts and hips. Him, his graying curls hung wet over his eyes, and his shirt showed off the soft ripple of lean muscle.

He was so close, his emerald eyes taking in every inch of you. The way he looked at you made you feel naked, vulnerable. But for him, knowing his intentions, you were okay with that.

You just decided to just go for it, intertwining your fingers in his curls and kissed him. Without hesitation, he followed suit, his hands finding your waist and deepening the kiss. After a moment of mindless indulgence, you both pulled away in realization. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over me,” you apologized, not wanting to scare him away. “No, it’s fine. I wanted to do that, actually” he smiled, looking down at his fidgeting hands. You both just smiled at each other, and you both actually considered moving back in until you heard, “_______! Tío Bruno! Where’d you go? Are you two getting along?” Mirabel was screaming for you two, and the two of you realized how much time had gone by. You both laughed at each other and turned to head back home. Of course, when the nieces saw you two drenched in water, their Tío’s hair disheveled, and the slight tint of red across your cheeks, they knew exactly what went down, and they couldn’t help but bust out laughing.

“Bye, _______, we’ll miss you,” Mirabel whined, poking out her lip in a pout as she gave Pantera one last rub down her back.

“You don’t have to wait so long, I don’t exactly go anywhere,” you laughed as you walked them out. You gave Mirabel, Isabela, and Dolores each a tight hug and a kiss on the cheek, and that left Bruno last, a small smile on his face as he looked at you. “Thank you, I appreciate all your help today,” he began, his nieces watching you two in the background. “We should get going, huh,” he laughed, rubbing his arm. Smiling warmly, you gave him a kiss on his cheek and gave him a tight hug. “Get home safe,” you smiled up at him, leaving him blushing and flustered on your doorstep. “Come and visit anytime.”

Bruno’s nieces teased him all the way home that night, saying “ Tío ‘s got a crush on _______,” and “Tío’s got a new girlfriend!” Of course, he brushed off the teasing, playfully reprimanding them. But he couldn’t help but think about you all night, about when he’d see you again. You made him feel young, again, so warm and fuzzy and he even had a sweet dream involving you.

A/N: First fic on this page and first fic in a looooong time, so may be a bit rusty. This was all written in good fun, and I may update it later when I’m more awake and better with words, lol. In the meantime, I do feel like the ending could've been drawn out more, but again, was sleepy and wanted to put this out. Let me know what you thought, and hopefully, I’ll be able to continue the Bruno fanfics. Thanks for reading! :)

Divider by @firefly-graphics

P.S. Primary blog is @that-freaky-mysterious-one , so replies to comments will be from that account.

Update: I changed the third part of the story, I felt that not enough happened in the original part, so I added some stuff, lol. Hope you like it! :D

#bruja #brujería #bruno madrigal #bruno madrigal x reader #tio bruno #mirabel madrigal #isabel madrigal #dolores madrigal #fem!reader #bruno x female reader #bruja!reader #cute #fluff

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rowansparrow · 2 years ago

Text

The Light Between Oceans: Chapter Six

**This series is rated 18+, Minors do NOT interact or you will be blocked**

Summary: Ju’Lah begins to navigate her complex relationship with Maul. Meanwhile, Fives concocts a plan to rescue her.

Chapter Rating: Teen

Warnings: Mentions of character death, grief, some descriptions of injury.

Ships: Rex x Female!Reader, Fives x Male!OC, Fives x Female!OC

Word Count: 2.8k

A/N: Fives and Ju’Lah are the stars of this chapter, sorry Rex/Reader stans. They’ll be back next week!

Regular updates come every Saturday.

Thank you very much to @djarrex and @witchklng for their various contributions to this work. I couldn’t have done it without either of you.

Sensitive content is tagged #Ro’s Protected Tag. Please block that tag if you are concerned about content.

Reblogs are so appreciated!

She sat in the co-pilot’s seat, her hands folded on her lap in front of her. She eyed her lightsaber, attached to the man’s waist. If she was quick about it, she could summon it to her grip, ignite it, and impale him against the pilot’s seat before they were even out of hyperspace.

Of course, there was the risk that he’d draw his own blade quickly, and block her attack. But she was small. She was quick. She could get around him, get behind him, she could -.

“You could at least pretend like you aren’t plotting to kill me.”

Ju’Lah jumped, whipping her head around to face him. “I wasn’t.”

“You’re a poor liar, child.”

“I gave you my word that I’d come with you willingly.” Ju’Lah answered, keeping her voice calm. “I have no intention of escaping.”

“Oh, I don’t doubt you’ll try.” Maul hummed. “In fact, I’m counting on it.”

Ju’Lah bared her teeth at Maul in response. “What’s the matter? Scared of a little girl?”

“Don’t try it.” Maul warned, rolling his wrist lazily and pushing Ju’Lah back against her seat with the Force, choking her delicately. “I can just as easily turn this ship around and finish off the last of your little friends. It is by my mercy that they still draw breath.”

He released her, and Ju’Lah gasped, catching her breath again and pinning her ears back against her skull, snarling at Maul. “I will never stop fighting you.” She snapped. “You won’t break me.”

“I have no intention of doing so.” Maul responded, returning his hands to the center console. “Why break what has already been broken?”

Ju’Lah growled. “What do you want to do with me?”

“Train you. I’ve expressed this already.”

“Why’d you kidnap me?”

“I didn’t. You came willingly.”

“Because I had no other choice!” Ju’Lah shouted. “You were killing my family!”

He sighed heavily, tilting his head towards her. “You gravely misunderstand my intentions, child. We have a common enemy. I do not wish to harm you, or your friends. My only desire is to train you. Our combined strength will defeat the Sith, once and for all.”

“I don’t care about the Sith.” Ju’Lah bit back. “Who are they to me? It’s the Imperials who have been hunting me and my family.”

“You naïve little girl,” Maul hissed. “The Sith have their hand in everything. It is them who orchestrated this plot from the very beginning. Destroying the Sith is the only way to unravel the web of deception and destruction that has permeated the galaxy for years.”

He leaned back again. “I meant what I said. No harm will come to you, or to the ones you love. I am here to help you.”

“Help me?” Ju’Lah echoed. “You tried to kill my father!”

“Then he should have stayed out of my way!” Maul roared, the entire ship rocking as he spun on Ju’Lah. She shrunk back, startled, but flashed her teeth anyway as she bristled.

Maul turned his head back towards the viewport. “Secure yourself, we will be landing shortly.”

“Fuck you.”

Maul chuckled. “I was like you, once. You’re filled with anger, girl. I will teach you how to use it.”

“I don’t need your help!” Ju’Lah shouted back. “I don’t need anything from you!”

“You do.” Maul replied calmly. “There is much I can teach you.” He turned fully to face her again, reaching out with one hand and tilting her chin up. “Your father won’t always be there to protect you, little one. The next time a monster like me raids your village and slaughters your people, wouldn’t you like to kill him first?”

Ju’Lah jerked her chin away.

“My brother cut down every man, woman, and child in your village on Gyatta.” Maul replied. “But I showed the people of Dantooine mercy. Remember that.”

“I don’t owe you anything.” Ju’Lah said, holding her head high.

Maul didn’t answer, instead landing the shuttle. “We’ve arrived.”

Ju’Lah risked a glance away from him to instead look out the window. It was dark, and yet the entire planet was drenched in a blood-red light, as though the planet itself had been gutted open.

“Where are we?”

“My home world.” Maul answered calmly. “I have prepared a place for us. Come.” He offered his hand to her, and Ju’Lah glared at him until he dropped it. “Very well. Follow me.”

Ju’Lah reluctantly exited the ship, trailing behind Maul as he led her to a small mountain, with a cave carved out of the base.

“This used to be the home of the Nightsisters.” Maul told her. “Though they were eradicated during the age of the Clone War.”

None of this meant anything to Ju’Lah, but she could sense the spirits lingering throughout the planet. She walked on hallowed ground, her fur standing upright in fear as she walked. Unconsciously, she drifted closer to Maul, staying close.

Maul led her into the cave, guiding her down stone steps into what looked to be a ritual chamber. A large stone slab sat in the center of the room, with several pillars around it. Green flame flickered in each of the pillars. Maul paid the room no mind, passing through it and instead leading Ju’Lah through a doorway and down winding catacombs.

Behind him, Ju’Lah counted her steps, trying to memorize each turn they took. Left. Right. Right. Left again. Straight. Left. Straight. Straight. Right.

“Here is your room.” Maul said, stopping in front of a sealed door. “I am across the hall.”

“You’re letting me have a room?” Ju’Lah asked, surprised.

“Did you expect I’d seal you away in the dungeons?”

“Kind of.” Ju’Lah mumbled, pushing the door open. The room looked ordinary, with a bed and a set of drawers, though there was a large tree painted onto the wall. For a moment, it reminded Ju’Lah of the canopies on Gyatta.

“Did you paint that?” She asked Maul.

“You are my apprentice. Not my prisoner.” Maul answered calmly. “I will prepare us a meal.”

“Why? So you can poison me with it?” Ju’Lah spat back.

“What advantage would killing you give me?” Maul sighed. “I suggest you rest. I will fetch you when it is time to eat. Then, we will meditate.”

Ju’Lah frowned, watching as the Zabrak slipped away, walking calmly down the hall with his hands folded behind his back.

She slammed the door shut, immediately scrambling around the room and looking for any alternative escape route. There were no vents, no ducts or tunnels for her to weasel through. The only way in or out of her room was through the main door.

“Shit.” She whispered, sinking down to the floor. She scrabbled around in the nightstand instead, finding sheets of what at first appeared to be flimsi, but then she realized they were finely cut animal hides, and a piece of charcoal. She grunted in disgust, but it was better than nothing. Quickly, she jotted down what she could remember about the way out of the catacombs, and shoved the animal hide under her mattress for safekeeping.

When she finished, she settled herself on the floor, taking a slow breath.

“All-Mother, hear me.” She whispered aloud. “Spirits of my ancestors, guide me.”

She closed her eyes, reaching out through the Force, trying to sense Gol’Chek.

Gol’Chek. Her buir. She’d watched Maul cut off his legs, throw him aside as though he were little more than a paper doll.

She flinched at the memory, instead refocusing on something else.

“Ad’ika.”

Ju’Lah smiled, hearing Gol’Chek’s voice again in her head. She knew this memory. She liked this memory.

“It… it means little one. Or sometimes child, depending on the context.” He said. “So, when combined with a name, it’s a term of endearment. So Lah’ika is… Little Ju’Lah.” He mumbled.

“I like it.” Ju’Lah whispered aloud, remembering her own words. “So, what would they call you, then, in your mother tongue?”

“Vod.” He answered immediately. “It’s what we called one another, my people.”

“What’s it mean?” Ju’Lah breathed.

“Ju’Lah.”

She gasped, her eyes opening abruptly. That wasn’t part of the memory. He hadn’t said her name. Someone was calling out to her.

Her heart began to race, and she closed her eyes, refocusing.

“Brother. It means brother.”

“And what do the little ones call the older ones, then?” She asked, her heart pounding in her chest. Say my name again.

“You would be my buirkan.” Gol’Chek replied. “My responsibility.” Then, after a moment’s pause: “You are my buirkan, Lah’ika.”

“I like your language.” Ju’Lah replied hurriedly, raising her voice slightly. “Will you teach me more of it?”

“If I can remember it, yes.”

Ju’Lah grit her teeth, squeezing her eyes shut in focus. She was so close. She could feel someone else, someone watching her.

“JU’LAH!”

Ju’Lah gasped, her eyes flying open, and he was there.

“Buir?”

It was only for a moment, a brief moment where father and daughter could see one another, could hear one another.

“Ju’Lah -.”

Maul opened the door.

Fives stomped down the hallway, trying to backtrack to the ships. He got turned around in the winding tunnels of the mines and cursed under his breath.

His cheek was still sore from where Athena had struck him, and in truth, Fives couldn’t say he didn’t have it coming. He rubbed at the flesh for a moment, scoffing under his breath and shaking the feelings off.

She’s trying to help you. She’s trying to be there for you.

Fives rubbed the back of his neck, slowing down and glancing over his shoulder. Maybe he should apologize.

“No.” He said aloud, shaking his head and storming back towards the ships. I don’t want your pity.

“You there!”

I know, I know!” Fives waved his hands in the air, not turning around to face the Mandalorian and instead continuing to walk down the long hallway. “I know I’m probably not supposed to be here, I’m just trying to get back to my ship.”

“Fives,” The Mandalorian called again, running in front of him and stopping him in his tracks. “That’s you, isn’t it? Are you the one they call Fives?” The Mandalorian sounded very young, and very out of breath.

“I am.” Fives began cautiously. “What’re you -.”

“It’s urgent. The warrior, the one without his legs, he’s asking for you. He’s refusing to speak to anyone but you.” The Mandalorian couldn’t be much older than a teenager. “Please, the medics asked me to find you. He won’t calm down. He says it’s about someone named Ju’Lah.”

“Take me to him.” Fives said at once.

He followed the boy down the hallway, winding through the maze of mine tunnels until they reached the medical bay. Fives was led in quickly, and as soon as the doors opened, he could hear Gol’Chek shouting.

“No! NO! Get off me!”

“Easy, hey! Hey, I’m here, I’m right here!” Fives called, pushing past the Mandalorian trying to sedate Gol’Chek and grabbing his hands instead, trying to calm him down. “Gol, it’s me, I’m here. I’m right here.”

“Fives.” Gol’Chek was drenched in sweat, his eyes wide and wild. “I saw her.”

“Who? Ju’Lah?”

“Yes. Yes, I saw her.” He swallowed roughly. “She’s – she’s in a room. A room with a tree in it. It was just for a moment, then he came back in and we got cut off, but – she’s alive, Fives, I saw her.”

“Where?” Fives asked. “How?”

“We have a bond.” Gol’Chek explained. “Through our Attunement, or the Force, whatever the kriff you want to call it.” He grabbed Fives’ arm tightly. “I saw her.”

“Where?” Fives asked again. “How do we find her?”

“I – I don’t know. I just saw the room she was in, I didn’t see much.” Gol’Chek said. “I can try again, but I – I can’t focus for long. I need my legs fixed.” He continued, his nails digging into Fives’ arm. “I need you to be my legs.”

“What?” Fives drew back slightly. “What do you mean?”

“I can’t walk.” Gol’Chek said. “I can’t do anything until I can get prosthetics, and gods know how long it’ll take me to relearn how to walk with them.” He groaned quietly, leaning back and reaching for his legs, flexing his fingers as though he were scratching an itch. “Ju’Lah… she doesn’t have time to wait for me to get back on my feet. You have to go after her for me.”

He looked up at Fives, his eyes shining. “Please. I know you love her as much as I do. You have to go after her. You have to find her. She needs us, and I can’t save her. You can.”

“I – No, no I can’t.” Fives deflated, shaking his head. “Gol’Chek, I couldn’t protect her. I can’t protect anybody. Everyone I touch, everyone I love, they always – they die. I can’t be the one to lose her.”

“There isn’t anyone else.” Gol’Chek begged. “I don’t have legs, Rex has a baby to worry about, Athena’s got Kiran, and Quill -.” Gol’Chek grabbed him again. “You can take Quill with you. The two of you can go together. He’ll help you, it doesn’t have to be just you. You can even take my ship.”

He doesn’t know. “Quill’s dead.”

It was the first time Fives had said the words aloud, and he felt his stomach sink. His throat burned, and he swallowed roughly, repeating himself with some finality. “Quill’s dead.”

Gol’Chek paused, finally releasing Fives and slumping back against the cot. “I’m… I’m so sorry.”

Fives shook his head, balling his hands into fists. “I can’t do this, Gol’Chek.” He said softly. “I can’t.”

“I… I understand.” Gol’Chek said quietly. He sounded so defeated, laying back against the cot. “The healers, they were talking about prosthetics. They don’t have much in the way of supplies, but Tech and Echo were in here earlier. They think… they think they can build me legs.” He whispered. “And once I have legs, I can find her. I’ll find her.”

Something clicked in Fives’ mind.

Gol’Chek reached out to Fives, finding his hand and giving it a squeeze. “I’m sorry about Quill.”

Fives was barely listening, distracted by his own thoughts. “Someone has to know where Maul is.”

“We’ll find them.” Gol’Chek whimpered, hissing between his teeth as the phantom pain in his legs increased. “Kriff, damn, fuck it all, I need legs! I can’t go after her without legs!”

“Easy, Gol’Chek, take it easy.” Fives soothed. “Listen, I think I have an idea, but you’ve got to trust me.”

Gol’Chek looked up at him, his eyes glassy and unfocused, but he nodded. “Are you going after Ju’Lah?”

“Yes.” Fives promised. “Yes. If my hunch is right, I think I know somebody who knows where Maul is.”

Fives eased Gol’Chek back against the cot. “You rest for now. Focus on getting better as quickly as you can. I’ll find her.” He squeezed Gol’Chek’s shoulders. “I swear on my life, I’ll find her. And once I do, I’ll need your help to go get her. So get better.”

Gol’Chek nodded, determined, and Fives turned quickly, racing out of the room and back down the hallway.

“Mama, why is Fives mad?”

“He isn’t mad, sweetheart.” Athena soothed, stroking her hand through Kiran’s hair. “He’s just… he’s very, very sad, and sometimes when someone is really sad, it comes out as mad.”

“Is he sad ‘cos of Quill?”

“Yeah, baby.” Athena murmured. “I think we’re all sad because of Quill.” She brushed some hair from his eyes. “How are you, Kiran? How are you feeling?”

“I’m okay.” Kiran mumbled, looking down at his hands. “I miss home.”

“I know. So do I.” Athena smiled, tilting his chin up. “Remember when you were little, and I came and got you for the very first time?” She prompted gently. “We rode on that big ship together with Quill while we looked for someplace to make a home?”

“Yeah.” Kiran sniffed, nodding. “I ‘member.”

“That was back before we’d gotten your legs fixed, so you couldn’t walk very well on the temporary legs you had.” Athena explained. “You’d trip constantly, so Quill would just carry you around with him in his arms all day long.”

“He’d show me the ship.”

“That’s right.” Athena confirmed. “He’d show you all around the ship, he’d let you sit in his lap while he did repairs, he let you press the buttons on the control panel when we were in hyperspace…” She trailed off, feeling the tears welling up behind her eyes. “Quill loved you very much, Kiran.”

“I know.” Kiran said. “I love him, too.” He wrapped his arms tightly around Athena’s neck, hugging her close. “And I love you.”

Athena smiled, sniffling and hugging him back.

The door to their room flew open, and both of them jumped, Kiran instinctively crying out and clinging to Athena.

Fives was breathless, clearly having ran the whole way there.

“I thought you were sleeping on the ship?” Athena bit out, holding Kiran a little closer. Fives ignored her, shutting the door tightly and coming to sit on the edge of the bed across from her.

“What do you want?” Athena demanded.

Fives swallowed, pitching his voice low.

“I need you to contact Ahsoka Tano.”

Tag List: @wild-karrde @jesjestraverse @theroguesully @clonecyaree @book-of-baba-fett @starwarsmeninhelmets @ladykatakuri @djarrex @literallydontlook @bobafettuccini @pro-fangirls-unsocial-life @a-c-lee @chromia7567 @embarrassedauthornerd @itsagrimm @gotomarvelgal @space-b33 @moonstrider9904 @writingbylee @witchklng

#ro writes #TLBO #The light between oceans

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pascalpanic · 4 years ago

Note

ok can i request a din djarin x reader where the reader is a badass but usually seduces her bounties to capture them, and din is both jealous and confused (bc she could kick anyone’s ass) and she whips out the line “don’t work for misogyny, make misogyny work for you” thank you so so much

Atin’la (Din Djarin x f!Reader)

Summary: Being a female bounty hunter is a pain in the ass. When you meet a Mandalorian man and begin traveling with him, you meet seemingly the only man in the bounty hunting trade that respects women. Too bad he’s a hopeless romantic too.

W/C: 4k

Warnings: language, alcohol, misogyny, threats of violence, mentions of weapons, Din doesn’t know how to emotion. rude terms to address a female (whore, bitch, etc.)

A/N: I had so much fun working on this request you guys! Fic requests are definitely open if inspiration strikes any of y’all. The bounty they capture in the later part is a Zabrak! I did some research into different humanoid species, and for reference, Zabraks are the species with a ring of horns on their head; the most notable one is Darth Maul. I linked the wookiepedia page here so you can get a feel for what they look like if you aren’t familiar with the species.

atin’la- tough

Being a bounty hunter and a woman is much harder than being one or the other.

Sexism runs rampant in circles dominated by men, and bounty hunting was certainly one of those circles. Finding a man impartial to women was the best you could get in hopes of employment, a man who actually gave a shit about the women was a dream.

Luckily, you’d happened across a man who seemed to see directly past gender. A man who you weren’t even sure was a human, covered in beskar and refusing to even tell you his name. He asked you to call him Mando, and that was that.

You’d happened upon the man during a bounty hunt. You were an independent contractor, working for yourself. You’d pick up pucks from slain hunters, more often than not, or you’d run a spare job for Karga or his rivals. Money was the number one concern for you, over loyalty to a certain guild or a certain code.

The hunt was going somewhat easily. It all changed when you looked down and found a tiny green being sipping soup. It smiled cutely at you with tiny white teeth and you abandoned your mission for a moment to give the little thing a scratch on its head. He seemed to appreciate that, leaning into your touch and slipping his wide brown eyes closed.

The being’s father didn’t like that. You looked up to find a beskar-clad, broad-shouldered man pointing a pulse rifle at you. “Step away from the child.”

“Relax,” you said quickly, putting your hands in the air. “I’m not here for him.”

“How do I know that?” The modulated voice growled at you.

“I’m an independent bounty hunter. Let me show you.” You grabbed a puck and tossed it to the man, who skillfully caught it while balancing his pulse rifle, aiming it directly at your heart. The man- well, you assumed it was a man- pressed the button, illuminating the dark alley with a holographic image of a mythrol. “See? It was registered to Jido Korden. He’s dead now. I stole the puck from his body.”

The black slit in the helmet looked from the puck back up at you. “You’re not Guild?”

“No,” you laughed. “Why bother working for one side when you can keep your opportunities open?” You asked, a smirk on your face.

He shook his head. “I was assigned to this mythrol too.”

“That’s too damn bad, Mandalorian,” you shrugged and walked closer, snatching the puck back from his palm. “Unless you want to work together,” you snorted as you pocketed the little round piece, turning off the hologram. You looked down at the kid again. “Nice meeting you, squirt,” you hummed to the kid and scratched its head before turning to walk away.

“Independent, huh?” The Mandalorian asked, lowering his pulse rifle.

You stopped in your tracks. “Yeah. What about it?”

“You have skills. I’ve seen your image before.”

“Better not have been on a bounty puck.” You crossed your arms and turned around. “Where is this going?”

“I… am in need of crewmates. This kid is a kriffing handful, and I can’t keep watching him and running bounties. It’s just not working out.”

“That sucks,” you shrugged. “Is this an offer?” He stared at you for a second, unreadable. His visor stared directly into your face. “Yes. Come work with me. We’ll take turns running bounties and staying on my ship with the kid.”

“Oh, you have a ship,” you raised an eyebrow as you looked up and down his body. “I’m not a working girl, you do know that?”

“Of course I know that,” the man said, annoyance evident in his modulated tone. “This is not a… partnership of that kind.”

You bit your lip and tilted your head as you looked at the man, the child, and back to the man. “50/50 split of payment.”

“60/40.”

“Don’t make me negotiate a higher rate,” you chuckled. “50/50.”

“Fine.”

You smiled. “Looks like you’ve got a partner, Mandalorian,” you said, hands on your waist. You walked closer and offered him a hand. He took it and you shook on the deal. You introduced yourself and he nodded. “What’s your name?” You asked.

“You can call me Mando.”

That was how your partnership with Mando began. Now, you’ve worked together for a few weeks. His missions tend to run longer than yours, taking upwards of a week. That leaves you on the ship with the child more, but it’s nice. It’s almost fun to pretend domesticity when the Mandalorian man is gone, playing with the child.

Green bean, baby boy, cutie, kiddo, nugget. The kid had many names under your care. You wonder if Mando ever calls him sweet names when you’re the one gone. You hum to the child and put him in his little knit hammock, hanging above the technically-shared bunk. It’s not really yours or Mando’s. One of you sleeps in it when the other is on the mission. One side has a small shelf with some of your belongings- your glasses, wax for chapped lips, a durasteel flask for water. The other is bare. That’s Mando’s side.

The child is asleep, and you’re curled up against the back wall of the bunk, reading something on a holopad. Your home planet has a newsfeed you can stream, and you smile softly as you scroll through it. You take a sip of water from the metal flask and hear the child stirring. He wants to be near you, you can tell, as he reaches out a tiny three-fingered hand toward you.

Shaking your head, you chuckle. “Alright, bud. Come here,” you allow, and the child jumps from his hammock onto your stomach, causing you to make a soft oof as he lands on you. The child giggles and crawls up your body, cuddling in against your chest. You set down the holopad and stroke the child’s big ears. He makes a little coo of happiness, snuggling in and closing his eyes. As much as you’d tried to get the child to sleep in his hammock, every night was like this. He wanted to be held and sung to and kissed between his big eyes. He was a baby, you suppose. You wonder if Mando indulges the child by doing this when it’s just him and the child.

As you close your eyes, you find yourself thinking about the Mandalorian. You liked him, you had to admit, making you smile placidly at the backs of your eyelids. He had a dry sense of humor. He was good to you. He’d indulge in conversation with you between the times one of you would go out on a hunt. He’d listen to you talk and comment along on your stories. He was good at domestics, you’d notice when you came back from your turn hunting. He’d wash and fold the child’s brown robes and his own capes, would polish his weapons and sometimes you could even smell remnants of cooking in the hull of the ship.

Yes, you have to admit, you like Mando. He’s a good man. He treats you and his little green son well. In response to his kindness, you do what you can for him. You get treats at the marketplace with the child and leave them on his pilot’s seat for him to find. You polish his beskar for him at night when he sleeps, in just a helmet and his flight suit, up in the cockpit whenever the two of you are both aboard the ship. You write him notes of thanks and tuck them around the ship for him to find.

You fall asleep thinking about the man, the enigma shrouded in beskar and dark clothing, while you held the child close to your chest.

Mando likes you too. He smiles when he finds a note from you tucked in his pack he carries on missions. He snacks on the candies that you get for him, and even shares them with the child. He falls asleep in the same bunk, thinking about you, the child nestled alongside him.

When he’s on a hunt, he thinks about you and the child constantly. He wonders if you ever think about him the way he thinks about you. He wonders if you consider him a friend. He views you as one. He pictures the way your eyes twinkle when you and the child get into mischief. He thinks about the way you laugh at his dry humor, the way you send a snarky comment right back at him. The way you’re good to him. The way he secretly yearns for you, for your touch, for your lips and your arms around him.

Now, as he’s dragging a knocked-out twi’lek back to the ship, he hopes you’re asleep. He hopes he can catch a glimpse of how relaxed you look when you sleep, the way your nose twitches when you’re dreaming and you press kisses to the child’s head in moments of half-consciousness. He hopes he doesn’t wake you as he lowers the Crest’s ramp and walks up, quietly as he possibly can. The carbonite freezer is loud, and it wakes you. “Mando?” You call as you hear it, sitting up.

“Just me, cyar’ika.”

You don’t know what the word means, but Mando loves to address you by the title. It probably means bitch or snarky one or sassy, you sometimes think. “How did it go?” You ask as you hear the heavy footsteps of the man come to the end of bunk.

“Easily. He was hard to find but easy to take down.”

“The best kind. More time away from me,” you tease, rubbing your eyes and looking at the hulking man, the red and blue lights from various appliances just barely illuminating his shape.

“You like it that way, I’m sure,” he teases back, sitting on the end of the bed and stripping off the beskar, setting it on the floor with a clunk.

“Actually…” you trail off, smiling a little. “I was thinking we could do the next hunt together. I’d like to see your style. My next one is on Tatooine, we could leave the child with Peli. She adores him.”

He turns to look at you. It’s unbearably domestic, your hair messy and your shoulders bare in your sleeping camisole and soft legs visible with the shorts you wear, your glasses slipping down your nose. It’s hard to believe you’re a bounty hunter in this moment, he thinks to himself. You look so delicate and warm and soft. The opposite of him, rough and rude and harsh. “Who’s Peli?” he asks after a moment.

“Mando!” You laugh and smack his bare arm. “The lady with the wild hair. She runs the hangar?”

“That’s her name?”

“Yes, you bantha,” you grin and shake your head. “Her name is Peli. I cannot believe you.”

The child awakens at the noise and makes a noise of excitement as he sees Mando. “Hey, kid,” the Mandalorian chuckles and picks up the child, setting him on his lap. The child hugs him and Mando gives a soft laugh as he hugs him back, lightly.

“Go back to sleep, cyare. I’ll pilot us to Tatooine and you can finally show me how terrible you are at bounty hunting.” He pats your calf softly, with an ungloved hand, and you do your best not to shiver at the touch of his strong hands on your bare skin.

“You get some rest too,” you tell him with a soft smile, placing your hand on top of his. Your fingers are so much smaller than his, so much more delicate, and you trace the tips along the back of his hand. He nods and stands, setting the child back down next to your side. You lie back down and cuddle the child into your chest, trying not to think about how strong and warm his hand felt on your skin.

Once you arrive on Tatooine, you suit up. Your hair is slicked back to the best of your abilities, and your glasses are replaced with contacts. You pull on your skin-tight black tank top and black cargo pants, strapping your holster belt around your waist, slinging your ammunition belt over your shoulder, where it rests between your breasts. You strap one blade to your thigh and another to your upper arm, and pull on your trusted combat boots. You’re ready. “You can come down,” you shout up to Mando, who’s been patiently waiting in the cockpit for you to get changed.

The man climbs down the ladder in his full beskar. Tatooine is a hot planet, so he’s omitted the cape for this mission. You can see a peek of skin when he moves his head, showing a little bit of tanned skin, and it makes you bite your lip and turn away. “You ready?” You ask him as you sling his backup pulse rifle- which you’ve claimed as yours now- over your shoulder.

He nods. “Looks like you are too.” The child has already been left with Peli, so everything is set. He walks closer to you and removes one of his metal vambraces, strapping it to your arm. It looks odd against your bare skin, only ever having seen it against the dark material of Mando’s flight suits or duraweave shirts. “This button,” he says and points to a triangular button, “is the comm in case we get separated.”

“You’re gonna be the one needing it,” you tease, pressing the button on his other vambrace. It makes a screeching feedback sound from being so close to the other receiver and you wince before pressing it again to turn it off.

“Sure I will,” he chuckles.

“Show me the puck one more time?” You ask, looking up into the black T of his helmet. He nods and pulls it out, pressing the hologram. It’s a male Zabrak with a name listed beneath: Gar Thalcyon. Crimes: Bail Jumping, Resisting Arrest, Grand Theft X-Wing. “Shouldn’t be too hard. Men are easy,” you chuckle and take the puck, putting it in a pocket of your cargo pants. “Let’s go.” You walk out of the ship, leading Mando along.

You walk through the crowded marketplace of Tatooine, the Mandalorian man trailing behind you. Your head is held high. You don’t necessarily fit in; many Tatooinians wear robes and hoods to hide from the sun, but you obviously didn’t bother. The Mandalorian behind you most definitely doesn’t belong, attracting stares, but he doesn’t mind either. He’s used to it.

Mos Eisley is, unfortunately, a dead end, you two discover after a day of searching. The bounty puck never indicates that you’re in the right location. Both you and Mando decide to get dinner at a cantina in town before you move on tomorrow. That’s what led the two of you to where you are: sitting in a more secluded booth, watching the cantina’s patrons get drunker by the minute.

You’re sipping a bright pink cocktail, and Mando watches the world around the two of you, sneaking glances through his visor at you. “Isn’t this a little irresponsible for a mission?” You chuckle, swirling the skewer of fresh berries sitting in the glass in front of you.

“He’s not around here. We’re not on mission time now,” he shrugs.

“Oh, so is this like a date?” You tease with a smile.

Mando freezes for a second. You hope you haven’t offended him somehow, but he tilts his head as he watches you. “Do you want it to be one?”

You bite your lip and swirl your drink faster. “I don’t know. It’s a little impractical for coworkers, for co-bounty hunters, is it not?” You chuckle, but there’s no humor in your voice as your throat goes dry.

“It would be,” he nods in agreement. “But our job is only a contract between us. One that can be amended.”

You have a shy smile as you look up at him. “Do you want it to be one, Mando?” You ask.

He’s silent for a moment. You mentally curse the beskar for hiding his expressions from you.

“I do,” he finally acknowledges.

The smile on your face breaks into a grin. “Then I guess we’re on our first date,” you laugh, sipping your neon-colored drink with a smile you can’t get off your face. “I suppose if we’re dating, I should know your name,” you ask him.

It’s the first time you’ve pushed. You’ve never asked him to take off his helmet, never asked why he didn’t. You’ve been kind and caring and patient and damn, he wants to tell you so bad, but his eyes drift to the side and he sees a Zabrak walk in, and he immediately recognizes him as your target.

Mando nods to the side. “Take him down and I’ll tell you.”

You look where he nodded and frown. “So much for a date,” you pout and look back at Mando. Sighing, you pick up your drink and stand. “Just know that I only have feelings for you, okay?” You ask, a hand on his shoulder as you walk to his side.

“...Okay,” he nods, and you walk off, an extra sway in your hips. You may be wearing cargo pants, but your tight top and cinched belt accentuate your body. You’re gorgeous, Mando has to admit.

The man sits at the bar and you pull up a stool next to him, smiling a little and sipping at your brightly colored drink. “Hey there.”

The man’s eyes look you up and down, and he licks his lips with an odd colored tongue. “Hey yourself. What’s your name, pretty thing?” He asks with hungry eyes.

You need a cover name and you need it quick. “Manda,” you blurt with a smile, trying to hold back a laugh at the fact that you literally picked your date’s name- well, the one you know him by- but slightly augmented.

You rest your hand on the bar and the man picks up your hand, kissing your knuckles. “You can call me Gar.”

“Hello, Gar,” you giggle and bat your eyes at him. “What’s a man like yourself doing on Tatooine, hm?” You ask him, swirling your drink and sipping it as you look at him with doe eyes.

He shrugs and looks forward, signaling the bartender for a drink. “I’m a wanted man, my dear,” he says with a salacious smile.

He sure fucking is, you think to yourself, and you can’t help but snort. Maker, men are ridiculously easy targets. Your plays into your theme, at least. “Oh, and for what?” You ask, leaning in closer. You sneak a sedative dart from a pocket of your pants, holding it in the hand beneath the bar.

“Stole an x-wing right off a Resistance base,” he chuckles, raising an eyebrow.

“Is that so?” You giggle, eyes wide. “How did you do that?”

He’s about to launch into a spiel when you stab the tranquilizer dart into the back of his hand. “Actually, don’t bother. I already know,” you chuckle, face close to his. He makes a noise of agony and surprise at the needle in his hand, and his body starts slumping. “Never lead by saying you’re a criminal,” you murmur next to his ear and stand, wrapping one of his arms around you and forcing him to walk along with you.

“You’re a wanted man alright,” you chuckle as you walk out of the bar. You press the button on your comm. “Headed to the Crest. Cover our tab?” You ask into the vambrace.

There’s a beat of silence. “Already on it, cyare,” the Mandalorian’s voice speaks through the beskar plate on your forearm. “How did you-

“Don’t work with misogyny, make misogyny work for you,” you grunt into the metal and drop your arm.

The man groans as you drag him along. He looks drunk to anyone else, just barely coherent. “Fuckin’ bitch. Mandalorian’s little whore, huh?” he slurs at you, weakly trying to wrestle free of your grip but failing.

You push him into a nearby wall, twisting his arm at an impossible angle. “Try it again and I rip the horns from your head one by one,” you hiss into his ear.

“Okay, okay, sorry,” he whimpers and you let him go, pulling him into the earlier position.

Peli’s hangar is only a short distance away. As you enter, the green toddler squeals in excitement and runs over to you. “Hey cutie,” you laugh as you see him. Peli isn’t far behind. “Go sit with Peli a little longer, let me get this guy in the ship, okay baby?” You tell him, and he obeys, waddling back to Peli, who gives you a little wave.

“Goddamn,” the Zabrak man groans. “That mando is green under there, then? How could you fuck something like that-”

“I can and will slit your throat right now and let you bleed out. You want your life?” You murmur, grabbing the blade from your thigh and holding it to his neck. He nods frantically. “Then shut the fuck up,” you grunt to him and haul him up the ramp, into the carbonite freezer. He begs and pleads until the hiss of the freezer begins and the man is sealed. “Thank the fucking Maker,” you groan as the words stop.

You climb back down the ramp to find Mando already holding the child and paying Peli. He thanks her one last time and you take the baby from Mando’s arms. “Were you flirting with him?” He asks, wasting no time. His tone is deadpan.

“Clearly.”

“Why the hell-”

“I wasn’t doing it for fun,” you grimace at him. “This is my fucking method. It’s much fucking easier, and if I have the advantage I might a well take it.”

“Well, I don’t like it.”

“That’s too fucking bad, Mando,” you practically spit, whipping around and walking deeper into the ship with the baby in your arms. “It’s my-”

“Din.”

You turn around and look at him. “I’m sorry, what?” you ask, clearly annoyed.

“My name is Din. Din Djarin.”

The anger fades from your body quickly. “Din,” you say back to him, slowly.

He nods. “I… just got jealous, I suppose. I’m sorry.”

You finally offer a small smile, albeit a tired one. “Thank you. I don’t like doing it either but… it’s my way,” you shrug.

He walks closer, putting a hand on each of your arms. “I get it.”

You smile softly and put one hand over his beskar-clad chest. “I told you, I only have feelings for you,” you tell him.

He nods softly. “I’m glad. I like it that way.”

Chuckling, you shake your head. “Well, Din. I suppose we could finish our date in here. I could cook something.” You look down at the little green child in your arms. “With him, maybe it’ll be more of a family night.”

Din cups your face in a leather-gloved hand. “Thank you, cyare,” he murmurs, thumb tracing over your cheek.

“What does that mean?” You ask him, looking into where you think his eyes sit beneath the helmet.

He presses your forehead to his, the beskar cool against your warm skin from the Tatooine air. “Beloved,” he murmurs, his fingers tracing your cheekbones.

A small gasp escapes your lips before they form a smile. “Beloved,” you hum back as he wraps an arm around you. “I like being called that.”

taglist:

@remmysbounty @mishasminion360 @softly-sad @blo0dangel @luxurybeskar @binarydanvvers

#din djarin x reader #din djarin #din and grogu #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian #the mandalorian fic #mando x reader #mando #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction

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therealvinelle · 4 years ago

Note

in the “everyone is in love with Bella” scenario, what about the wolves? Wouldn’t it be really fucked up for Sam to fall in love with her? Would it make the wolves try to redefine imprinting? how would Leah react to the whole situation?

Anon is referring to this post. For the record, I didn't get into them in the post because the plot would veer so far off-course in Twilight that Edward never leaves and Victoria never becomes a threat to Bella, meaning Bella and Jake don't get close and she doesn't need their protection.

But, let's do this.

First encounter

Bella arrives in Forks, and Billy and Jacob are there to hand over the pickup.

Boom.

They fall in love.

Jacob, having never had a real crush before nevermind something so powerful as falling in love, is overwhelmed by these new feelings. He blushes and flushes and stutters, and fails to say anything reasonable or even intelligble to Bella. Too mortified to function, he decides to hide in La Push until the embarrassment fades. Which very well could be never.

Billy, meanwhile, is unable to cope. He just fell in love with Charlie's daughter. Charlie's 17-year-old daughter who used to make mud cakes with Billy's daughters.

This is bad.

This, to a good man like Billy, is unforgivably bad.

He goes from being Charlie's best friend to suddenly being very distant, not wanting to ever cross paths with Bella again.

But, you asked about the wolves, not just Jake and Billy, so let's take this scenario further.

Bella's friends, all of whom are hopelessly in love with her, drag her to La Push

Jessica, Lauren, Mike, Angela, Tyler, Eric, Ben, the whole gang, they're all going to La Push for the weekend.

And it just won't be the same without Bella. She's just so great, you know?

Everyone looks at each other and nods. Yeah, it's just not fun without Bella. Bella's great, someone should invite her.

They all invite her, one by one, all of them with wide, adoring eyes. "It would be so amazing if you came, Bella," Jessica says dreamily, twirling a lock of Bella's hair around her fingers. "Your hair is really pretty," she giggles.

Angela and Ben are each blushing too hard to really say anything to Bella, so they end up running away from her. Bella is left feeling like some kind of freak. She later receives two notes in class, one from each, begging her in cramped writing to come to La Push. Yeah, not helping her feel like less of a freak.

Mike, Eric, Tyler, and Lauren all corner her, each worse than the last.

By the end of the schoolday Bella doesn't know what's going to happen at La Push but she does know that she doesn't want to go.

She complains about this to the Cullens (remember, her and Edward became an item much earlier in this timeline), and they all fawn and coo over her and act like she just went through a warzone. If she wants to go to the beach, she could try Isle Esme Bella. Would she like that, an island vacation? Or an island?

Bella is pulled out of school for a romantic two-week totally-not-a-honeymoon.

La Push never happens.

But surely Bella and the wolves must meet at some point

Billy catches wind that Bella Swan is dating Edward Cullen. As in, the girl he has fallen so deeply in love with is now being preyed upon by a blood-sucking demon.

Billy's own sense of propriety or honor be damned, he has to save this girl's life.

He tries to speak to her, just as in canon, but just as in canon this goes poorly. Bella is a savvy 17-year-old who doesn't need no warning, and besides, the Cullens are all so sweet. They're like hobbits, really, obviously she's not in any danger. She tells Billy as much. Vampires are lovely, does he know they gave her an island?

(Billy did not know this, and yes, that's weird. Doesn't mean they're not evil, though.)

Billy gets nowhere with his would-be intervention.

Time to bring in the big guns.

Sam phases around this time, and imprints on Emily. Break-ups with Leah, maulings, and tragic lovestories all around are had.

It is around this time that Billy brings Sam up to speed on the Bella situation, although leaving out the part where he's hopelessly in love with the girl because that would not be received well. Could Sam go speak with her about this, see if maybe she will take his warning seriously? The situation is dire.

Sure, Sam can do that. No one wants a human girl to get eaten or turned, after all.

Sam goes to see Bella.

And promptly falls in love just as he did Emily.

Emily, who is currently in the hospital from Sam mauling her, which happened specifically because Sam had imprinted.

It's official, Sam thinks, he's the greatest scumbag there ever was.

The Emily and Leah situation was awful enough as it was, breaking all three of their hearts and causing irreparable damage both physically and mentally. Sam wronged them both colossaly, and he can never amend that.

But he imprinted. He wasn't just being a douchebag, actual magic made him do it.

Now, though...

Either Sam imprinted on multiple people, in which case his happy ending is now polygamy. And how would that be a happy ending for Emily and Bella?

Or, possibly even more terrifying yet, he didn't imprint on either woman.

Breaking up with Leah, mauling Emily, making Emily fall in love with him after that and ruining her relationship with her cousin, in short putting these women through hell, all of it- it was for nothing. Sam's just a horndog who sees supernatural intervention where there's really just hormones.

Why couldn't he just have imprinted on Leah?

Sam can't go on a sabbatical to figure this out, his tribe needs him. So he takes to living in the woods alone, where he is alone, to try and figure this out.

But it gets more painful yet, because he can't just disappear on Emily.

So, he tells her. He owes her that much. And it's not goodbye forever, either, just- goodbye until he can figure out how to be the man she deserves. A man anybody deserves, really, because right now Sam's not it.

Emily has no idea what to make of any of this, but she knows her heart is broken.

She has to see this woman all of this is about.

Naturally, she falls in love as well.

The plot thickens

The next time Sam drops by, Emily gives him the news. They're both in love with Bella now.

Sam no longer knows what to make of anything.

Is the universe trying to tell them to form a polycule?

Nothing like that has ever happened before, but not much is known about imprinting. There's a first time for everything..?

At this point they're both giving themselves headaches trying to figure this out. It's a mess.

More, Bella hasn't even met either of them. Sam and Emily can't just walk up to her and say "Hi, be our wife".

Or can they?

If Emily fell in love at first sight, maybe it'll work in reverse. Maybe Bella just has to look upon them, and she'll fall in love.

Sam is dubious, but at this point let's just do this. Let's just do this, see what happens.

They walk up to Charlie's to deliver some of Harry's fish fry. Bella opens the door.

"HIIIII" Emily says, trying to act normal.

Sam's not saying anything.

"Hi," Bella says back, nonplussed, and looks at the bag Emily is clutching with white-knuckled fists.

All three of them are silent.

Bella is starting to wonder if there's something with the town water supply. She is also wondering if these people are planning to say anything, or if they just really enjoy knocking on doors and saying hi to people. Is there something Bella should be doing?

Eventually she clears er throat and asks if there's anything she can do for them.

Sam and Emily glance at each other. Bella's not looking starstruck with love, but she's not acting normal either. Who stands in a doorway and stares at people for almost a minute before talking?

It's inconclusive.

Emily hands over the fish fry. "From Harry," she says, and introduces herself.

Bella nods, remembering Charlie's friend who all but ran out of the door when he saw her and hasn't been fishing with Charlie since. None of Charlie's friends have. Charlie is going nuts. Maybe she should try hooking him up with Carlisle, vampires are lovely, they'd get along so well.

Bella, noting Emily and Sam aren't saying anything else, says bye and moves to close the door.

"Wait!" Sam yells, at the same time as Emily rips a piece of paper from her pocket, and sticks it into Bella's hand.

Bella looks down on it. It's two phone numbers.

She looks back up at Sam and Emily, who by now feel quite certain that this girl hasn't fallen in love with them and that this is the most humiliating moment of both their lives.

Just in case, though...

"Call us," Emily says flirtatiously, winks, and runs away.

Sam follows.

Bella never calls them back, and they never speak of this again.

A few months later, Leah who’d been shopping in Forks happily tells Sam and Emily that she's fallen in love with a girl, she lives in Forks, she's amazing, her name is Bella Swan.

"I took one look at her, and I knew," Leah says dreamily.

#sam uley #leah clearwater #emily young #billy black #jacob black #bella swan #twilight #twilight meta #twilight renaissance #twilight quileutes #twilight shapeshifters

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pyaarii · 4 years ago

Text

Oral Sadism and Literary Arguments

A/N : Ok, so, like enemies to lovers???? slow burn??? literature??? fuck me.

/ Masterlist /

Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader (College AU)

Word Count: 6k

Summary: There’s probably only one thing worse than chauvinist literature, and that’s the sardonic boy who sits two rows behind in Lit class with his torn paperbacks and ineffable aversion.

“Well, I actually disagree with you,”

If you didn’t have that much self-control, you would’ve snapped the pencil you were holding in half, as you heard a deep voice speak up behind you, and before you could retort, Professor Gordon spoke,

“And why’s that Jason?”

“I think Bukowski was trying to present how men will hide their inner thoughts and feelings, really their sensitivity in that aggression as an attempt at protection.” Jason spoke up, his voice boiling your blood as the rest of the class stayed in relative silence, as you turned around to look at him as he stared directly at you,

“I’m sorry, protection? What part about misogyny and blatant objectification of women as only being sexual objects that can be discarded and picked up when he pleases passes as protection? Women that are empty and uncharacterised to the extent the reader begins to agree with Chinaski that yes, women are less. Women are not important. And women don’t require compassion and consent, what part of any of this reminds you about goddamn male – “

“All right, I think that’s enough for today.” Gordon interrupted your heated rant with a sigh, which you share and quickly turn around close your eyes to try and avoid the weight of Jason’s stare as Gordon begins to dismiss the class.

“All right everyone, I hope you took something useful from that discussion, though I’m not sure if you would classify that as a discussion,” He added sarcastically, before continuing, “I expect you all to have brief outlines planned out for next week, and please try to work as collaboratively as you can with your partner to do so.”

The last part was directed at you and Jason – though neither of you payed proper attention – while the rest of the class let out small snickers.

“Right then, class dismissed, and uh, you two, could you both please stay behind for a minute.”

Fucking great. You thought to yourself, even though Gordon didn’t specify both you and Jason, his tired expression tells you otherwise and you start collecting your notes and pens into your bag in a silent fury and made your way to the front of the class, where Gordon was leaning against his oak desk, watching both of you stand in front of him – not casting a single glance towards the other as you waited for him to speak. He sighs,

“I don’t think you both understand how frustrating it is when your top students both have it out for each other and can’t hold a single civil discussion before arguing like little children,” He begins, becoming more wary as he continues, “Which is why I paired you up for this assignment and I fully expect you both to work together, and I hope I can expect that from you?”

He looked at both of you with an expectant look, and Jason only nodded curtly as a response, and you did the same but decided to chirp in,

“That’s great that you think we’ll be able to work together, sir, but on a totally unrelated note, how would my grade be impacted if my partner was suddenly mauled by a car over the weekend and was unable to complete the project with me?” You spoke, voice deadpanning, as your professor barely restrained in a smile while Jason looked at you with an empty expression.

“I would say that would be a fail as you missed the premises of ‘working with a partner’, as well as some serious legal consequences.” He replied, somehow maintaining a serious look as he spoke.

“That’s great to know sir.” You spoke, nodding along before he dismisses you both, leading you to quickly walk out of the classroom, breathing out a sigh of relief as you see Barbara leaning against the wall, busy on her phone, waiting for you to come out.

“What took you so long,” She asks as soon as she hears your sigh, pocketing her phone, and linking her arm with yours,

“I swear to God, one day, I might as well skin him – “

“Look, if I had known before that you could be so dramatic, I would’ve told you to choose drama as your major.”

“Ha. So funny. It’s just – fuck him.” You say the last part under your breath as you turned around to see nobody in the empty hallway.

“You two are really something else.” She states, making you roll your eyes.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It’s supposed to mean that you and Jason are really annoying. And petty.”

“Well, he’s the one that needs to contradict and compete against every single fucking thing I say, every single fucking time! It’s really fucking annoying,” Barbara only rolls her eyes in amusement. “And Gordon paired us up together for this project, and, God, I just can’t do anything with him without wanting to punch him in his stupid face.”

“I know, and that’s exactly why Gordon paired you both up, he really likes you both and he wants you both to stop having this weird rivalry between each other.”

“Wait. You knew?”

“Well yeah. I’m his daughter.”

“Well, why didn’t you tell me then?”

“Because I like seeing you suffer.”

“You know, you’re a terrible friend.”

“Thank you,” She replies, with a small laugh, before she links her arm with yours again and whips out her phone to frantically shoot another text as she lets out a deep sigh. “Where is Steph? She took my car this morning and said she’d pick us up.”

“You let her drive your Bentley?” You ask, surprised she would give Stephanie one of her most prized possessions.

“Yeah, I know,” She spoke, absorbed in her phone, “But, she promised me that she would keep it safe, and we all know that I will kill her if something happens to it.”

“I do.” You reply, a small laugh escaping your lips before a blue Bentley pulled up in front of you both, causing Barbara to quickly pull open the door and shuffle inside, leaving you to chuckle to yourself before making your way to the back seat of the car, the blaring music making you wince as you enter the car but Babs quickly turns it off as both of you settle in.

“See! Your car is perfectly fine, just like I told you it would be!” Steph smugly announced, her blonde curls bouncing wildly as Barbara stared at her unimpressed, before both of them fall into their routine bickering as, this time, Babs begins to criticise her driving and apparent ‘mishandling of the most precious thing to me’, while you only roll your eyes at their antics before pulling out your phone to scroll through the messages you’ve missed throughout the day.

“Hey,” Steph’s voice shakes you out of your thoughts as you meet her eyes through the rear-view mirror, “What’s up with you today?”, her seemingly innocent question provokes a snicker from Babs – to which she receives a smack on the shoulder from you.

“What?” Steph inquires further.

“Nothing, why don’t you ask miss ‘I-fucking-hate-Jason-Todd’ here.”

“Fuck off, Barbara.” You grit out, glaring at her through the rear-view mirror.

“God, both you and Jason actually act like children,” Stephanie chimes in, “You’re both almost the same but you both compete against each other against every little thing – “.

“Are we done talking about Todd?” You retort, ignoring Steph’s comment, “I have better things to do than think about him.”

“Mhmm, sure.” Barbara winks at you and it takes a lot for you not to launch at her right there, in the car but Steph draws your attention away by babbling about some boy she met in her criminology class and the conversation in the car gradually fizzles out, until Steph asks,

“You guys heard about the party this weekend, right,” A matching ‘yes’ from you and Babs prompts her to continue, “Well, you’re going then, right?”

“I don’t know, but why’re you so pressed about it?” Bars questions, with a raised eyebrow.

“No reason, I’m just curious.”

“It’s Tim, isn’t it?” This time, you pipe in, and Steph almost yells,

“No. No, it’s not!”

“Oh my god. Of course it is.” Babs laugh echoes with yours as you eye Steph in the rear-view mirror, to see a blush dusting her cheeks as she quiets down.

“Whatever, are you coming or not.”

“After this conversation, yeah I am.”

“God. I hate you both.”

Standing in the corner of the party, nursing a red solo cup of something that burns your throat when you drink it, you regret not saying anything in the car against attending this party.

You’re currently standing alone, both Steph and Babs have completely disappeared into crowd, as Dick had shown up and quickly whisked her away as soon as you all entered the apartment, whereas Steph has promised to get you a drink about twenty minutes ago but never came back and as you try to block out the reverberating EDM music blasting through the room, you make your way towards the kitchen to re-fill your cup (the one that you went and got yourself), before something catches your attention in the peripheral vision.

It’s a wispy haired girl, her eyes smudged with mascara, backed against the wall of the kitchen – away from the main crowd, you could pick from her body language a sense of uncomfortability as she was drunkenly shaking her head at a man who towered in front of her, making you stop in your tracks to watch the scene unfold right in front of you, before quickly changing your course towards their direction, already knowing the identity of the man in front of the girl, without seeing his face.

“Hey, Cyrus, get the fuck away from her!”

As soon as you reach them, and the words leave your mouth, another raucous voice speaks at the same time as you.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

Cyrus and the girl in front of him stop at their hushed conversation, to look away from each other and face you both while you also look at Jason – with a shocked expression – standing next to you and before you can say anything, Cyrus lets go of his hold on the girl before turning to glare at you.

“I don’t see how any of this is any of your business?”

You restrain yourself from physically hurling at him and fist your hands at your sides before looking at him with an unimpressed look.

“I don’t see how any of this is your business either, Beck? Thought daddy said that he’ll pull you out of school if he had to deal with your stupid behaviour again, or did you forget about it?”

“I swear to god – “

He tries to step closer to you but Jason steps in front of you before he can do anything else, and mutters,

“How about you fucking walk away before something worse happens?”

Beck shrugs of Jason’s hold on him before walking away and pointing a finger at you.

“You’re such a fucking bitch, you know that?”

“Should’ve said that to your daddy when he said I was best fucking person he’s ever met.”

He looks at you wildly and is about to retort before one of his friends pulls his attention to a game of beer-pong happening in another corner of the party and the whole scene stops for a second. You watch with a held breath as within a fraction of a second, a cocky smile overtakes his face and his shoulders relax as he runs his hands through his dark hair, leaving with his friend and you quickly turn around to see the girl, still standing there, her arms wrapped around her body and a shocked expression on her face.

It takes you a second, but you manage to gently coax her to the hallway outside the apartment and Jason (unbeknownst to you) follows in your footsteps.

“Do you want me to call you a cab, or can I drop you off?”

She shakes her head and is about to say something before Jason interjects,

“I can take her home.”

Both you and the girl turn around and stare at him and you quickly shake your head, diverting your gaze away from him,

“It’s fine Todd, I’ve got this.”

He sighs.

“Will you just let me help her?”

“Well, I’ve already told you that I’ve got this under control, so I don’t see why you’re being so – “

“Oh - uh, you don’t have to worry about me, I can uh – go home myself.”

“No. I – uh mean, let us take you home just to make sure that everything will be okay.”

A meek smile overtakes her face as you squeeze her hand lightly and you offer a half-smile in return.

“Us?” Jason’s voice perks up and you turn around,

“Well, I don’t have a car. If you want, I can come with you and drop her off at her place but – “

“Yeah, sure. Come on.”

His voice is clipped as he moves past you both, turning around the end of the hallway, leading you both to quickly follow him as well.

“Wait. I never asked you for your name.” You gently rest place your hand on her shoulder, making her stop and quietly giving her name,

“It’s Anna.”

...

By the time you’ve left Anna’s apartment complex, the small talk in the car dwindles down as you both sit, unnerved in the dimmed light of the car, the silence suffocatingly awkward. It doesn’t change until he pulls up to the curb, facing the entrance to your apartment building.

“Thanks.”

It’s quiet enough that you didn’t expect that he’d actually hear you. Let alone, grab your wrist before you leave, an incredulous expression on his shadowy face.

“Thanks? That’s it. You’re not going to say anything about what’s just happened?”

“Well, what the fuck do you want me to say.”

“I don’t know.”

“Well neither do I. Look. Thanks for dropping me off and Anna. That’s it. I don’t have anything else to say to you.”

He doesn’t say anything and let’s go of his hold on your wrist before you quickly slip out of the car, not realising the force at which you push, slams the door shut, making you internally wince. But in your peripheral vision, you can see he doesn’t look at you, with his face staring forward and grip tight on the wheel.

His car’s gone further and turned the corner before you’ve even made it to the entrance doors, and you breath in the cold October air, letting the wind whip across your bare skin, goosebumps rising while standing in a pathetically insulating satin dress, your thoughts pummeling through your mind without fully understanding them and you sigh again.

“What did you say to him after that?”

“Babs, I’m already – “

You stop midway through your hushed conversation with Barbara to see a disheveled Jason noisily weave his way through the shelves, towards the table at the back of the library you had occupied with Barbara.

“Sorry, I – “

“If you weren’t really going to care about this assignment, you should’ve said something before showing up thirty minutes late.” You deadpan, voice steely and brows furrowed.

“Will you fucking listen to me?” he breathlessly cuts you off from saying anything else as he drops his books on the table.

“I’ll head out now.” Barbara mutters to you, squeezing your arm and slinging her bag over her shoulder before quietly slipping out of sight. You rested your chin in your propped arm, waiting for Jason to continue,

“Well, what’s your excuse?”

“I don’t have an excuse. I was caught up in call with my father, it ended up being longer than I expected.”

You stare at him for a moment, his eyebrows also furrowed and hair sticking in all directions as he breathes heavily.

“Whatever, just complete the outline of notes I made for you.” You replied, pushing pieces of sticky notes and highlighted papers, that you had been picking at for the past half hour, towards his direction.

In about fifteen minutes, you’re both working in relative silence apart from the occasional remarks on the thesis and clarification on handwritings. There’s also been the perpetual looks on Jason’s part, and regardless of how much you try to block them, it itches at you to confront him about his irritating tendency.

“What Jason? What do you want now?”

His expression is firstly, taken aback, and then he coughs before asking,

“Did you ever talk to the girl after the party?”

You nod slowly, eyes still trained on the table, curving letters on colour-coded sticky notes before replying,

“Yeah, Stephanie’s their R.A, so I went and checked up on them the day after the party, she’s doing fine.”

You think that’s the end of his curiosity, but the pit of anxiety in your stomach and his next question, makes you internally want to bang your head against the alder wood table.

“And, uh, what about Beck?

Now, you stop writing with your pen and look up at him instead, resting your chin on your propped hand again, with a bored expression splayed on your face to try and detract from the internal anxiety, for both yourself and him.

“What about him?”

He doesn’t say anything at first and for a moment you think he might snap like he did in the car a few nights ago, but he only closes his eyes in frustration as you cock your head to one side.

“If you’re wondering if he’s going to face consequences for what he does – then no.”

There’s no verbal response except for a quizzical expression and you almost roll your eyes at him.

“I swear to God Jason, do you live under a fucking rock?”

“I just – look if you’re gonna be a bitch about it, then fucking leave it.”

“Maybe if you’d like to stop yelling in the goddamn library, I can fucking say something.” You almost hiss at him, voice seething as you both glare at each other.

“Anyways, you probably know that Beck’s the son of the headmaster, yeah, yeah, anyways, he’s always been a fucking creep around parties, but he’s never like you know, ever gotten that far.”

Jason raises an eyebrow at your hushed whispers.

“Like, he just trails around parties looking to either fight someone or just annoy them the fuck out but usually someone stops him before he can do something worse. But, still doesn’t mean that he isn’t a fucking asshole anyways – and his dad and him have like the worst fucking relationship ever, he’s threatened to pull him out a bunch of times of school because he’s so shit.”

You lower your voice even further at the last past, that you’re not sure if he can even hear you.

“How do you know all this?”

You shake your head and trail your eyes back to the unfinished notes in front of you.

“That’s unimportant. He’s a whiny trust-fund brat and I don’t know why someone hasn’t punched him yet.”

That silences Jason for a moment. And the moment doesn’t last long before your phone’s alarm blares through the silence of the library and you quickly move to silence it and Jason eyes question you but you don’t respond, instead move to disorderly throw all the pens and highlighters into your bag and grab as many papers you could in one go before quickly whispering,

“I’ve gotta go.”

“Wait – “

“Look. I promised I’d help a friend out with something. I’ll let you know when I’m free again.”

Jason doesn’t have a chance to say anything else before you’ve flitted through the haze of bookshelves out of view.

“What happened to the guy your dad set you up with?”

“Darian?”

Babs doesn’t look up from her place on the vanity table as she touches up her makeup while you’re sat on the table with a plastic fork prodding the edges of one of the Halloween themed chocolate cakes Babs attempted to bake for the party.

“Yeah, the one with the hair, right?”

“The hair?”

She casts a pointed look at you through the mirror, but you only take in another forkful of chocolate icing before answering,

“Yeah, he had like the most voluminous hair I’ve ever fucking seen.”

“Really? Well he had the most boring personality that I’ve ever fucking seen.”

She barely contains a smile at your comment while her own snarky comment elicits a snort from you but before you can say anything else, the frantic clicking of Stephanie’s (beloved) d’orsay heels against the linoleum floor followed by her quickly making her way into the dimly lit bedroom causes the room to fall into silence.

“You’re not ready yet?”

Her voice holds an accusatory tone and Babs quickly scoffs,

“I’m trying. But somebody keeps distracting me by asking unimportant questions.”

“Excuse me. I’m trying to be a good friend and keep up with my friend’s life.”

“Please. It sounds more like you want to know more about Darian.”

Before you can retort to her statement, Steph’s voice cuts in,

“Darian? Who’s that?”

“A guy I went on a date with a while ago.” Babs replies with a roll of her eyes, pulling out a scarlet lipstick tube from her make-up bag.

“ – That your dad set you up with.” You finish for her and Stephanie laughs.

“Since when is Professor Gordon a dating guru?”

“Since fucking never,” Babs replies, this time, twisting the cap of her lipstick. “It was just some guy in the forensic unit that he probably felt bad for being single and alone, but he shouldn’t have, ‘cause he didn’t have a fucking personality even if he tried.”

“Well that sucks. Anyways, are you both ready?” She pulls out her phone out of the bag she’d brought and starts typing.

“Or, you know, at least tried to be ready?” This time, she eyes you pointedly and you let out a noise of protest while stuffing another forkful of chocolate cake in your mouth.

“I’m sorry not all of us have devoted our whole fucking lives curating every Halloween costume known to man!”

This was something you’d noticed since you’d come back to Gotham and had been forced to attend Halloween parties – nearly everyone you’d encountered was practically obsessed with the celebration – and one of those people was Barbara. So much so, that every year she held a Halloween party and planned it more profusely than you’ve ever seen her do anything else. Her love also came with a heightened scrutiny for your enthusiasm – or lack thereof – for the holiday.

Which was why you were currently sat, dressed in a black boat neck dress with a flimsy witch hat resting on your head as you decimated one of Babs’ rejected Halloween cakes – yet the worst part was that it was currently early December (midterms being pushed back made it impossible to have it in October) and the last thing you’d wanted was to attend this party but Babs had personally threatened to drag you there to complete her and Steph’s wish of doing a group costume.

“It’s only you, you know.” Steph retorts, head cocking to one side and blonde curls hanging over her shoulder, “Now, let’s go, let’s go!”

About three hours later, you’ve found yourself nursing a cup of cheap bar (the number, you’re pretty sure that you’ve lost count of), eyeing a clique of literature students, who are currently in the midst of an argument while you stand in the corner of the room, trying to avoid them recognizing you out of their peripheral vision.

“What’re you doing?”

“What the – “ You quickly turn around to see a tall figure dressed in black staring down at you quizzically, and then you realize that it’s Jason Todd.

“Todd, what the fuck do you want.” You hiss – not at all in the mindset to have a conversation with him at the moment – while trying to remain quiet enough so that you don’t attract any unwanted attention.

“I should be asking you,” He taunts back. “You’re the one sulking around the party and hiding in places.”

You don’t try to reply to his response but offer another front of argument that throws all sensibility of your previous claim of not wanting to fight Jason out of the window.

“I don’t fucking understand, why can’t you just leave me alone?”

“Don’t flatter yourself. I’m just trying to talk to you and you’re blocking everyone’s way.”

“Well, I’m not moving. So, they can find another way.”

“Are you fucking serious,” His voice raises. “You’re actually acting like a – “

“Shut up. Will you.” You hiss, pushing both of you further into the corner, so the bi-fold doors hide you better from the view of the group.

“What are you – “

“Morgan and his stupid friends keep trying to argue with me about some shit literature and won’t leave me alone.”

“Why?” There’s an edge to his voice which you pretend not to hear by avoiding his eyes.

“Beats me.”

He falters at the hostility of the comment – or lack thereof and you don’t say anything else but instead move to carefully peer pass the maple doors to scan for the group you’ve been avoiding amongst the mass of people in the room and as soon as you can’t see them you quickly move past Jason, to the to the cantilever staircase, without registering Jason’s footsteps trailing behind yours until you’ve reached the top and the overwhelming music and yelling from the party subdues a little and you let out a breath of relief before you see Jason also reaching the top of the stairs.

“Are you fucking following me?”

“No. Barbara and Stephanie were looking around for you and I was helping them.”

That lessens your anger a little and then confusion settles.

“Why?”

“I wanted to apologise to you.”

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding in and find yourself a little speechless.

“I – I meant why were they were looking for me but go on.”

“Oh,” You think you see his cheeks tint pink a little but with the dim lighting dancing shadows on his face, you’re not sure. “Well, I wanted to say sorry about the last class we had with Gordon.”

He takes a pause to slightly mess with his hair by running a hand through it.

“You were right about Bukowski – I – I don’t know why I said all of that shit.”

Looking back at this moment, you think it’s not your brightest because somehow his rather heartfelt confession falls almost deaf on your ears and somehow the narrative in your mind shifts to something else entirely.

“Is this some sort of joke, Todd?”

“What?”

“Did Morgan put you up to this shit? I know you and I don’t get along but siding with him is real fucking low, you know?”

“I – “

“I can’t fucking believe that you’re listening to all their bullshit and agreeing with them. It’s so – “

“No. What the fuck is wrong with you?” He cuts you off and his voice raises considerably. “I’m trying to fucking apologize to you and all your doing is being a bitch again.”

That silences you, but he continues.

“You know, I’ve tried. I’ve tried everything to understand what I did to fuck up with you, I’ve asked Barbara and Stephanie and – just, fuck, why did I listen to Dick?”

He mutters the last part, but you catch it anyway but still no response forms in your head at all, instead new questions pop-up as Jason runs another frantic hand through his ruined hair before quickly thundering down the stairs, leaving you…

You’re not quite sure what you’re feeling but cold is one of them as you pull the pathetic lace sleeves down your arm to try and warm yourself but nothing happens and maybe you feel your eyes too heavy to keep open as tears brim at the corners.

“Hey – are you okay?”

Babs’ voice causes your head to snap upwards as you watch her quickly scaling the stairs, eyebrows furrowed together, and you offer no response until she reaches the top and extends her arms to pull you into a hug.

“You were right. Halloween really isn’t your holiday.”

“Could you please stay behind for a moment?”

Gordon asks of you as you’re heading out of the hall, and the pit of anxiety resting in your stomach throughout the class, blooms further as you wait on the side until all the hall empties and its just you and Gordon.

He doesn’t say anything for a while, until he finally sighs and looks at you with a hard expression – one you’re all too familiar with from when you were little –

“Concerning Jason,”

You nod. Since your argument two days ago, you haven’t seen him, and the guilt seeped in farther when his spot well behind you remained empty the entire lesson.

“He’s pulled from your partnership.”

“W-what?”

“He came to talk to me, saying that he can’t continue to work with you anymore on any further projects, and the last one I paired you up on should definitively be the last.”

“Sir, I – “

“Look, I don’t like to meddle in the private lives of my students, but this situation is too tiring for me not to say that whatever problem you and Jason have; fix it. I always find both your work fascinating and that goes for the assignment you both submitted before and I simply cannot allow your own vanities to cloud judgment over the fact that you and Jason are paragons at literature and in my books, are too quick-witted to allow this talent to be lost amongst petty arguments.”

“I know, I – “

“So, I hope you’ll resolve this issue before next week’s lesson?”

“I – yes. Yes, I will.”

“Good. You’re dismissed.”

“Can I come in?”

The situation that you’re currently in rolls over you in waves of guilt and anxiety as you stand in front of Jason, in a beige coloured hallway as he idly stands with the apartment door halfway open, hesitant at your words or more so at how you’re standing in front of his apartment with worn boots and a heaving chest. You’d finally taken heed of the advice offered from Gordon, Steph and Babs and even consulted Dick and mulled it over with your own guilt before trekking all the way to his apartment.

“Sure,” His voice sounds removed – apathetic enough that you have to refrain from wincing, as he opens the door further to let you in. “Are you okay?”

You don’t hear him as your boots echo against the hardwood floor as you enter the apartment building and the sudden realization that this is the first time you’ve seen his apartment settles in as you eye the dimly lit space, with books scattered on the coffee – most of them are torn, something you’ve always found a little endearing, though you won’t admit it. The room is an oddly home-y mixture of warm beige's and deep browns that you would’ve kept staring at if he hadn’t called out your name again.

“What?”

“I asked, are you okay? You’re red in the face and panting.”

“Oh, oh, yeah, I walked all the way here and the elevator was out of service, so I used the stairs.”

“Why did you walk, nearly twenty blocks?” He furrows his brows and you let out of a puff of annoyance.

“I – listen, I don’t want to argue with you,” You take a step closer and calm yourself before starting. “You – you were right, I was being a complete and total bitch to you without reason at that party and before that. It’s just – “

You stop, and release a chuckle before awkwardly asking, “I’m gonna need a drink to get through this, do you have any?”

Nearly fifteen minutes later, not as drunk as you need to be, but enough that it gives you courage to finally stop beating around the bush and talk to him so you move to see him also standing facing the open windows to the evening sky, the sun setting against the horizon as dusk settles and you motion for him to sit on the floor as you are and he slowly complies.

“Look, I know I’ve been hostile towards you since – “

“Why?” He interrupts, not looking at you and you sputter a little. “Why have you been so hostile to me.”

“Well, you should know, none of it was your fault – well, not directly.” You sigh.

“College was my chance to start over. You don’t need to know all of the other shit, but I just thought that this whole experience would make everything okay and I wouldn’t need to fight for every single thing in my life just to end up being sub-par. And, it was going great.” You slightly chuckle to try not to choke on your words.

“That was, until you came along with your prodigal capabilities in literature and it felt like everything was falling apart again. Because somehow, suddenly, I wasn’t Gordon’s favourite anymore and I wasn’t at the top of the class – and somehow, I wasn’t enough.” Your voice is a little more choked now as you kept looking forward, even though Jason had started watching you now.

“It just was like my entire belief system just got turned upside down.” You release a breath and let the silence settle after your words.

“Fuck, I just unloaded a crap-ton of shit onto you, and you probably don’t understand any of it. I mean, I’m drunk so I don’t understand either.” You laugh and try not to cry, even though you’re pretty sure you will.

“No, I think I understand sort of, too,” He replies, voice softer than you expected and you’re more surprised to see a small smile gracing his lips. “You’re not completely wrong about the whole belief system thing there, you know, Gordon’s classes meant the same thing to me too and I just wanted to enjoy something without having to fight my way for it but boy, did you make that hard.”

A breathy chuckle escapes you as he stops talking and you both sit in the silence until he pipes up again,

“If we’re trying to mend this whole thing then maybe you should want this back too,” His voice is cryptic as you furrow your brows in confusion and stare at him with a lost expression as he stands up to walk away and disappear into the hallway, out of your sight before quickly returning with something clasped in his hand while you raise an eyebrow at him.

“You dropped this in my car when we were heading back from the party with that whole thing with Anna. Dick found it the next morning and had a whole field day about it.”

In his palm, rests a single earring piece shaped like an olive branch which you thought you’d lost in the chaos of the party and you almost laugh.

“You know, I’m gonna pretend this isn’t too creepy and thank you for giving it back.”

“I was trying to give it back to you but you never wanted to have a single conversation with me so,” You roll your eyes before picking up the earring and hooking it back through your ear even though you didn’t have the other one on.

“Right, I get it, I suck.”

That causes him to laugh as he settles back down again next to you and he doesn’t look at you before saying,

“No, you’re not as annoying as I originally thought.”

You echo a ‘hey’ and lightly punch him and the silence envelopes you both – softly, and there’s a moment of peace you think you’ve both settled in and it feels nice.

le fin

(pt.2 will come)

#dc #dc fanfic #Jason Todd #jason todd x reader #red hood #red hood x reader #batfam #batman imagines #jason todd imagines #red hood imagines #dc fic #dick grayson imagine #barbara gordon #stephanie brown #fanfic #my fanfic #bruce wayne #jason todd x you #red hood x y/n

266 notes · View notes

vecnawrites · 4 years ago

Note

The Arc's were a VERY open family so it was common for the arc sisters to bet on who wins Jaune or his twin Joan fucking for who gets the remote or the shower etcetera. They just wish they can get a turn for once.

(Holy Hell, this one got away from me! Turned from something that was going to be short and sweet to over 2.6k words!)

The Arc siblings watched as Jaune and Joan fought over who got to watch their show, which ran during the same half-hour time slot. “You got to watch last, Joan! It’s my turn now! Today’s episode is supposed to be really good!” Jaune hated being the only male in the house, even when the girls didn’t like something, it seemed like they ganged up to make sure he didn’t win anything!

Joan shook her head vehemently, her golden tresses and long braid swaying behind her. “I’m not missing the second part of this three-parter, Jaune! You’ll just have to miss it!” she declared, folding her arms underneath her massive bust, bringing the miniature chest planets up.

Over on the side, Saphron looked at Bleu, her glasses wearing sister. “So, what are the odds this time?” she asked, keeping an eye on the deadlocked and arguing twins. The second most buxom of the sisters adjusted her glasses, her sharp blue eyes narrowing.

“Well, Jaune has consistently won the past few matches,” she began, going over what she knew, “although it looks like this time Joan is going to take the initiative…” she finished, licking her lips as Joan yanked down her twin brother’s sweatpants, revealing his large and heavy balls and long limp cock, which she slurped into her mouth as she dropped into a squat, resting her plump ass on her heels. She began to bob her head rapidly, fiercely sucking on her twin brother’s cock, much to Jaune’s shock as he swiftly hardened to his full size.

Slick noises and loud gags filled the air as she tried to take it into her throat, before backing off and looking victorious...until Jaune grabbed the back of her head and shoved her down to the base, making her gag and gargle around the base of his cock, squirming heavily as he took control and outright fucked her face, saliva flying to the side in thick strings as her throat bulged and she looked up with wide, shocked eyes.

Glurk! Glurk! Schlick! Guhguhahg! The buxom blonde slapped at her brother’s thighs as he thrust to the base, pulling back just enough to let her breathe, before plunging down to the base, Joan’s chin nestled against Jaune’s balls. All the while, Jaune was speaking, his voice calm and even, as though he wasn’t violently claiming his sister’s face and throat.

“This is how you throat a cock, Joan! None of that teasing stuff you were pulling off! You’ll never get anyone off that way, no matter how long you do it!” Jaune shoved Joan to the base and held her there, feeling her throat protest and her tongue writhe against the underside of his cock. With a huff, he jerked backwards, yanking his cock out of his sister’s throat. Gliiitccchhh!

He slapped his cock, covered in her saliva, throat slime, and his own precum, on her face, smearing the combined fluids across her skin as she coughed and worked to catch her breath.

Huffing, Jaune reached out and shoved his sister gently away from him, gripping and ripping her blouse open, sending buttons flying everywhere as Joan’s bare tits bounced lewdly, slapping against one another and jiggling heavily, her fat nipples swollen, the slits hiding her nipples slightly opened.

Spinning the buxom blonde around, Jaune grabbed her sweatpants and shoved them down, revealing the bubbly shelf that was her ass and her soaking core, the crotch of her sweatpants dark from the weeping liquid. With a chuckle, Jaune brought his hand down on Joan’s rear, making the curvy blonde cry out as the flesh of her bottom rippled from the strike.

Crouching down a bit, Jaune rubbed his tip, sticky with precum, across Joan’s soaking slit, deciding to be sporting and give his twin a chance. When no attempt at fighting back came, Jaune shrugged and plunged, bottoming out in less than a second and beginning immediately with fast, hard thrusts, loud claps from Jaune’s hips meeting Joan’s bubbly backside filling the air...and their sister’s ears.

Saphron, Bleu, Crimson, Chartreuse, Indy, Gao, and Violette all watched, red in the cheeks, as Joan’s face when from defiant, to shocked, to her eyes rolling up and back in her head, her mouth dropping open and her tongue flopping out, drool sliding down her chin and slowly dripping to the floor as her body trembled and shook in orgasm after orgasm, her cum trailing down her inner thighs and to the rug.

“Heh, Joan, Joan, Joan…” Jaune chided, shaking his head, “you really have to work on your stamina, if you ever expect to beat me!” Jaune growled, picking up speed even more, loud squelching noises coming from their joining. Crack! Crack! CRACK! Joan squealed as Jaune spanked her ass, the pale adipose tissue turning a bright pink as her brother’s hand spanked, slapped, and squeezed it, mauling it between his fingers light dough.

Saphron squeezed her thighs together, her own pussy soaking her panties, twin peaks rising and tenting her shirt as her nipples tightened from her arousal and strained against the fabric of her shirt. Her sisters were no better at all, each of them flushed and fidgeting in place...or discretely rubbing herself, in Bleu’s case. ‘It’s always the shy ones…’ she thought idly, before her attention was grabbed by the sight before her once more.

“You better start fighting back, Joan...otherwise, I’m going to cum…” reaching down, Jaune grabbed his twin’s massive breasts and began to roughly squeeze, pulling her up by using them as handles. “Look! Our sisters are watching you get utterly destroyed by my cock...they’re watching you cum like a slut for your brother’s dick!” a hard clenching around his cock made him laugh. “Oh my god, you’re actually getting off on this! You have no shame whatsoever, do you!?” he began to thrust harder into Joan’s sopping wet pussy, his fingers grabbing, pinching, twisting, pulling her fat nipples, which had popped out of their protective slits and were bereft of their ‘armor’.

“Nooooooo~!” Joan wailed in denial, shaking her head, even as she threw her head back and came explosively, squirting hard enough and powerfully enough that her cum spritzed over Saphron’s and Bleu’s legs and feet.

Jaune growled. “Here it comes, Joan!” he thrust harder and harder into his sister, his balls slapping against her pussy and her clit, extending the buxom blonde’s orgasm, even as his own began, his balls pulsing and shooting out large bursts of cum into his sister’s womb, excess spurting out from the seal that was made from their conjoined sex organs.

Jaune lazily rolled his hips as his orgasm continued, still playing with and fondling Joan’s breasts as she slumped against him, red faced, squirming and panting for air, her pussy quivering around his still rock hard cock.

“Hmph. Thanks to that argument, both of us missed our shows!” Jaune grumbled, letting Joan go and watching her immediately slump to the floor, moaning weakly and shaking, the subtle movements making her flesh jiggle deliciously before his eyes. “Well, might as well get a shower...I need one after that.”

“Nooooo...my turn...~” Jaune looked down at his trembling sister, who had turned her head to look at him, a lazy smile on her face and a challenging look in her eyes-

-which widened as she released a shriek of shock as Jaune grabbed her by the hips and spun her around, still attached to his cock, so she was splayed open and stretched out on the floor beneath him. She swallowed as he loomed over her.

Jaune immediately attacked, pounding her cum filled pussy hard, his hands and mouth attacking her breasts, her nipples again, making the curvy blonde beneath him scream out in pleasure, writhing and arching upwards, pushing herself against him.

Bleu wasn’t even trying to be subtle anymore, her hand down the front of her pants, the movements showing to anyone that cared to glance her way that she was fiercely masturbating. Her top was up, exposing her G-Cup breasts to those in the room, her free hand switching between the heavy mounds as she squeezed them, pinching and twisting her taut nipples, rubbing and tweaking them, her cheeks a dark red and panting heavily. She whined, already imagining herself in Joan’s place, being fucked into a well bred, cum bloated, empty headed little fuck doll for her big brother...she keened as she clenched around her slim fingers in a heavy orgasm.

The other Arc girls weren’t much better, finally rubbing themselves over their pants and shorts as they watched entranced, each of them wishing that they were the one’s in Joan’s place, being fucked heartily and made to cum and cum and cum and cum over and over and over again.

“Ahhhh!!!” Joan cried out legs shooting straight out, toes curling as Jaune’s teeth gently pressed into the sensitive flesh of her nipple, scraping the fat nub of flesh and igniting the eight hundred nerve endings just underneath the dermis. “Cumming, cumming, cumming, cumming, cumming, cumming, CUMMMMMMINNNNNGGGG!” she wailed out, shaking and trembling like an earthquake was going off underneath them as Jaune slammed into her with outright bruising force. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck FUUUUUUUUCCCCCKKKKK!” she couldn’t help but screech, her body stuck in an orgasm loop.

Jaune growled, his body finally giving in and his balls clenching hard as they rested against his twin’s fat ass cheeks, squirting another thick and heavy load from the large spheres out into the depths of Joan’s warm, wet, unprotected pussy.

He sighed in relief as the weight in his balls finally reached a manageable level, and let Joan’s tit go from his mouth with a pop, before rising up and staring down at her panting, debauched form with a satisfied grin. “Looks like I win again, Joan...you really have to start trying harder…” he hummed, getting no response from his sister.

He sighed. “Well, since I’m such a good brother, I’ll be nice and let you share the shower...you’re not going to be able to clean yourself for a good while, after all. That fucking obviously took a lot out of you…” he hummed.

Reaching down, Jaune gathered his completely out of it twin sister in his arms and stood, nodding to his other sisters (all of whom were now openly masturbating on the couch, pants and shorts down and shirts up) and walking out of the living room, Joan still impaled on his cock, the female twin squeaking and squealing as she was bounced upon her brother’s sizable shaft with every step they took.

Bleu cried out, arching as she came hard, shaking on the couch, trembling as though she had touched a live wire. Dimly, she heard her sisters cumming as well along with her, their fingers, palms, thighs, and the couch underneath them getting soaked in their juices.

Each of them were jealous of their sister Joan. Why couldn’t they be the ones fucked and claimed by their brother?

~x~x~x~x~

In the running shower, Jaune pressed his twin up against the slick wall and gently fucked her, kissing her lips and swallowing her moans as his hips rolled against hers, much more tenderly than he had in the living room before their other siblings. This wasn’t some rough, frenzied claiming like it had been before.

Breaking the kiss, Jaune gently trailed kisses along the side of Joan’s neck, feeling her core weakly clenching around his cock…“Ah, Jaune...feels so good…” she whined, wrapping her legs around his waist. “More~” she huffed.

Jaune couldn’t help but chuckle, beginning to thrust faster and harder into Joan, watching her fall into bliss again and again as she clutched at him and rocked her body against him to further her own pleasure, moaning loudly, her moans echoing in the shower.

Finally, Jaune came once more into his sister, grunting low as he looked down and watched her belly expand from the amount that he had pumped into her, giving her a healthy pudge, like she was a month or two pregnant.

Both panted heavily, the only other sound being that of the water crashing down upon them. “...guess we should actually clean up…” Jaune muttered, getting a weak nod from his twin. He slowly pulled his cock out of the large bosomed blonde, and both were amazed at the absolute waterfall of cum that flowed out, splattering on the bottom of the shower and being carried down towards the drain.

Huffing a small laugh, Jaune grabbed Joan’s favored body wash and her loofah, sudsing it up well and beginning to bathe his twin sister, cleaning her of her sweat and their mixed cum, the female blonde moaning as Jaune rubbed her breasts, her ass, and between her legs quite thoroughly.

Not even bothering to get a new fragrance, Jaune quickly scrubbed himself down as well, before they both rinsed off quickly before the water turned cold.

Helping Joan out of the shower, Jaune grabbed towels and dried them both off, patting tenderly around her sensitive bits, before she squeaked as Jaune scooped her up into his arms and walked naked out of the steamy bathroom and towards his bedroom.

Entering it and kicking the door closed behind him, Jaune moved towards his bed and carefully lay Joan down upon it, grabbing the bottle of juice he had placed here earlier that morning. “here you go, Joan. Drink up, you need to replace your fluids.” he said, placing it in her hand, getting a grateful smile from his sister.

Opening it and taking off the top, Joan drank deeply and thankfully, throat bobbing and working overtime to drain the cool liquid and replace the fluids that she lost. Chuckling, Jaune climbed in bed next to her and lay back, grabbing his scroll and opening it to check and make sure that his show had been recorded like he wanted. Nodding in satisfaction that it had, he grabbed Joan’s and checked the same. Finding everything satisfactory, he closed them both.

Seeing Joan finish her juice and smack her lips, he spoke. “Still thirsty? I don’t have any more juice drinks in here, I think, but I can go and grab something from the kitchen if you want?”

He tilted his head as she saw Joan shake hers, before his eyes widened as he felt a soft hand rub his balls tenderly before wrapping around his cock. Looking back up at her face, he saw that sexy little smile on her face that he loved as she twisted her hand, bringing his cock swiftly back to life, twitching and throbbing.

“No need for that, Jaune~” she cooed, licking her lips, “Why leave the room when you have plenty for me to drink right here?” winking at him, she lowered her head and captured the tip of his cock in her mouth, locking eyes with him as she slowly began to suckle on it, flicking her tongue over his slit, almost nursing on his cock, using her hand to stroke his shaft.

Jaune groaned in pleasure, reaching down and stroking Joan’s long hair as the more gentle pleasure filled him. He slowly began to settle down, leaning back and relaxing as Joan slowly sucked him off for more to drink.

He smiled. Despite their ‘fights’, he and Joan were always the closest of the Arc siblings, and it showed during times like this.

#Jaune Arc #Saphron Cotta-Arc #Joan Arc #Arc Siblings #All Siblings Are Of Age!#All Siblings Bar Saphron Are OC's!

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because-edmund · 3 years ago

Text

I think this is the official first chapter. Don’t come at me @the-redheaded-league @agirlinherhead

Bitter like whiskey, Sweet like wine.

It started off simple enough.

He would walk in to his shitty little office, cramped and always a bit wet smelling from the constant sea air. Humid, maybe? What did it matter, it was his. And as he would finally get his coffee the way he would like it, insanely sweet with no cream, she would start her shift at the little market. They would chat, everyday, and so he got a crush on the new girl.

Not many people shopped too often, outside of whatever they needed that is, so it was pretty quiet. The folks who owned the store needed a break and Annie Flynn wanted to spend more time with her recovering son, so when the owners granddaughter came from the mainland, the opportunity was too good to pass up.

The first time he saw her, he restrained himself from doing a double take. She was older than he thought she would be, maybe 26-27, and quite frankly, stunning. Short and a bit thicker, she kind of reminded him of a porcelain teapot. Always dressed in pastels, and horribly sweet.

(That was the worst part. She was sweet and kind to everyone, even to Beverly, even to him.)

“Hello,” was all he could mutter out the first day, his throat was failing to catch air, he hadn’t had feelings like these in much too long.

“Hiya!”

Who says hiya he thought.

“Hassan. Sheriff,” he poked his badge, the dinky metal the only thing that most people respected on this island.

“Daphne. Pleasure to meet you,” she held out her hand, chipped nail polish on her fingers and a dainty pink ring on.

He shook back, maybe a bit too hard as she made a muffled squeak at the contact. Or maybe his hands were sweaty and gross, either way, he ran into his safe space and slammed the door.

It took him a few extra moments to breathe properly, and he couldn’t focus on anything the rest of the day. He would hear her lilting voice through the wooden walls, “Have a lovely day!” Or “Oh course I’ll be at mass, I heard there’s a new Father!” And even, in a very hushed tone, “Grace, you didn’t tell me about him.”

What did she mean by that last one? The fact she was going to mass was already a flag in his mind, maybe not red, but a flag. When he finally got up that night to do his daily scooping up of Joe Coolie, he saw her again, somehow still chipper.

“Ya leaving already, sheriff?” She said, her smile with just a bit of lipgloss still on and a scarf added around her neck.

“Got to take care of someone, you probably know who, make sure he and his dog don’t get mauled by a certain woman.” He tried to joke, but his voice didn’t waver from his monotone octave. He was worried he frightened her.

She still laughed, thank god. “Alright then! I’ll be heading home soon too. Don’t stay up too late!” She went back to reading a book as he walked out on shaky legs.

Who was he? He was a 40 year old man. Never has been the kind of guy to have butterflies in his stomach or be nervous. When he met his wife he wasn’t nervous, he was cocky, certain she was his. And she was, but only for a bit of time. And now this kid, dressed in a pink skirt and white sweater the first time he met her, looking for all intents and purposes like a goddamn cupcake had him jelly in the legs.

He went home, and Ali immediately asked about her.

“Who’s the new girl?” He asked, not looking up from his paper.

“Daphne.”

“What’s she like.”

“I didn’t talk to her much…”

“Shocking.”

“Shut up, and finish your dinner.”

The next day was worse.

“Hiya, sheriff!” She grinned, today she was in a red pair of pants, and black cardigan over a white and black polka dot sweater. She even had a beret on. Why did she dress like a character off Disney channel?

“Hello, Daphne.” He wondered if she would find his everyday blue ensemble boring.

“I have a present for you, if that isn’t too weird,” she giggled. He could melt into the floor from that sound.

“Depends, nothing illegal, is it?” She actually had a small smile on his face.

“I certainly hope not. I googled recipes and everything, it this!” She pulled out a small strawberry shortcake from behind the register, “It’s halal! I know that’s important. Bev couldn’t shut up about how you’re not Christian, so Erin helped me out and told me you’re Muslim, I hope you don’t mind. But since we’re neighbors I thought this would be nice!” She was blushing and looked a little nervous. The cake itself was beautiful, frosted with swirls and bright red strawberries decorating the top in a perfect circle.

He was speechless, no one on this island had ever made him anything, let alone cared about his beliefs. He was stuck staring at the the pastry for a solid minute before he finally spoke, “Thank you… this means a lot. Trust me.”

He tried his best to not eavesdrop on her all day, especially since not many people were shopping so she stayed on the phone with Grace all day. He could tell when she would talk about him, because he voice would drop deathly low, and then of course she talked about the “handsome new Father Paul” which for some reason made Hassan feel… jealous.

Again, he was 40. Not some teenager. And she was too young for him anyways, just because she was pretty and nice didn’t change that. He didn’t need anyone new, he had his son, he would put a stop to these feelings quick. He had to, because he didn’t want to deal with his morals if he didn’t.

He brought the cake home and stared at it for another five minutes. Ali had finally come home to find him, looking at the stupid cake like it was a bomb.

“What’s that?” He asked shrugging his backpack off.

“Shortcake, Daphne made it for us, halal too.”

“Oh, you talk to her more?”

“No,” he sighed.

“I saw her with Grace today, she’s pretty cool. Nice looking too.”

“Mhmm… I think she’s got it for that Father Paul fellow.”

“No, not her,” Ali laughed as he cut a slice.

“Dinner first,” Hassan said as he grabbed Ali’s plate, and instead, ate the slice himself.

That night, in bed, he thought about how to repay her. It was difficult, he didn’t know how to do nice things. Besides being a cop and protecting people, he didn’t do much for anyone outside of his family. Time had made him a little bitter. Shrivel into himself a little more than he used to. Less confident, more cautious.

This girl, this girl, clearly still had a hope for humanity. Sweet and caring and he’d only “known” her two days. He would destroy her. He would kill that innocence. And that wasn’t fair to anyone. The plan was to keep it as it had been, vague conversations, nothing meaningful, nothing more than a hello and a goodbye if he could manage. And definitely stop listening in to her conversations. Father Paul could have her, he didn’t care.

He did, in fact care, as the plan failed, spectacularly. After the cake incident, he just couldn’t stop talking to her. He was quickly obsessed. Asking about her baking, her day at home, what color nail polish she had just bought. And she was the same with him, asking what kind of food he’d like delivered to the store, if he needed a break from Ali, what new “crime” Joe Coolie had to be stopped from doing. He loved it, the conversation flowed easy and he found her chatting on the phone less and less, he wondered if she hoped to talk to him as much as he wanted to with her.

“Bake me anything today, sweets?”

“Sorry, sheriff! Can’t have you getting chubby! You might be a dad, but you don’t have to have a dad bod just yet,” she laughed.

“A little chub never hurt anyone, shortcake.” He said with a wink, a wink, who was he?

She immediately blushed, “Well, sheriff, I better, um, get back to work!” She ran off to the milk box in the back. Head down, and arms across her chest.

He cursed himself. It was too much. She probably didn’t feel the same towards him. He was old, bitter, and gross like bad whiskey. She was soft, sweet, and easy to take in like a good wine. He ruined it all, he was sure. She had no feelings other than just enjoying the causal talk with this old man and he for sure made it creepy. He wanted throw up over it. The whole day was ruined, and he couldn’t focus on any work, he was sure he would die from this.

Until he heard the knock on his door, “Come in,” he responded gruffly.

“Hiya,” she squeaked out.

“Hey, sh- Daphne. I’m so sorry if I made you uncomfortable or overstepped. I’m not good at being funny or even fun-“

She cut him off, “You’re sorry? I’m sorry! I- I… I’ve never, felt like this,” she huffed out a laugh. “You’re an odd one, Hassan, but I’ll see you tomorrow ok? I’ll bring something special for you.” She winked back as he couldn’t help but feel a blush creep up his neck.

She said his name.

He put his head in his hands and couldn’t stop the grin breaking on his face. You’re an odd one, Hassan. replaying in his head over and over again.

He was completely and utterly screwed.

#sheriff hassan #sheriff hassan x OC #hassan el shabbaz #midnight mass

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