#why do the dress shirts look like that on tundras by the way | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mareenavee · 2 years ago

Note

3, 5, 10, 22, 30, 39, 50, 51, 57 because why not throw a long list at you. For both pairings, because I'm evil. Chop and change as you like.

Hello. Yep this was asked over a month ago. I do apologize it's taken hell to freeze over for me to put down the fic and come wandering back over here <3 Ask game is here. So this is OTP asks iirc? Well it is now.

I cannot find a list that has numbers past 40 otherwise so. Here we go.

For Nyenna, Teldryn and Athis from my fic, The World on Our Shoulders. Below the cut coz it'll be a long one, bet. LOL Also there's some snippets toward the end!

3. Do they wear the other’s clothes? (sweatshirt, bandana, necklace, etc.) Nyenna is a very small bean by comparison. She can get away with stealing other's clothes. Athis is shorter, around 5'7-8 or so; his shirts fit her better. Teldryn has borrowed her cloak before.

5. Describe their cozy night in. READING. Nyenna definitely wants to catch up on reading. She's definitely going through it in the place we're at in the WIP and if she had her way, she'd be home with Athis by the fire pit with cozy blankets reading. If we're talking future timeline, rest is still mildly hard to come by. She and Teldryn might instead spend it at Orgnar's inn, listening to Sven make a fool of himself trying to be a bard and enjoying the company of their new neighbors. That's not really "a night in" but it kind of counts when your new hometown is as small as Riverwood.

10. Describe their first date. Nyenna and Athis... <3 They were a bit of a whirlwind. They skipped steps. Back before the nonsense, he would often take her out to dinner at the Bannered Mare, even after they were married. They had a few camping dates where he'd bring along a stash of some homemade mead on the way to some dungeon or another while they were working. He isn't much of a storyteller, but Nyenna definitely was and she'd also sing to him in Bosmeris until he fell asleep while she was on first watch. Nyenna and Teldryn did things glacially slow and in reverse order, lol. They didn't skip steps so much as do things completely backwards. They fell in love first. Then they...made mistakes. Then eventually they would have had a moment to spend with just each other and not the weight of destiny. Teldryn would have taken her to pretty places he'd found while he was wandering on his way home from one job or another. They love the Rift for picnics.

22. What reminds each of their partner? At this point in the fic, Nyenna is still very much always turning her thoughts toward Athis. They're still married and she still wears her wedding ring. They still write to each other constantly and she does try to return home as often as she can. Later on, after a few close calls, Teldryn has a dragonbone dagger each made for Nyenna and himself. This is before they admit any sort of love for each other. He thought it was symbolic, and also good back up if she ever ran out of magicka again. So you know, lethal weapons they hold on to for the rest of the fic. Suits, really. LOL

30. Your OTP gets to pick out each other's outfits; what is each wearing? Nyenna has picked out Athis's outfits since they were dating. He has terrible fashion sense. Have you seen his summer armor? Ugh. A mess. She had him in blue clothes and the Companions got him some Ebony Plate mail for their wedding. Speaking of, she also picked out his wedding outfit. Athis would look for any excuse for Nyenna to wear that dress again, speaking of. It's featured in one of his best memories, and the little embroidered tundra cotton flowers suited her. Teldryn always wears grey shirts when he's out of his armor. All his spare sets are gray, except his white shirts he wears as the first layer under the armor. Nyenna would insist on blue; it might be her favorite color, and it looks good on him. Teldryn has seen Nyenna dressed for a Thalmor party, but even then would still say she looks best in her grey and teal mage's robes.

39. Who would rescue an injured animal and nurse it back to health? What would the other think? Nyenna absolutely would rescue animals. Neither Athis nor Teldryn would not have the heart to dissuade her, even if there was no time or safety for such things.

50. Who's more likely to do something out of spite? Of the three, Teldryn. He's persisted this long out of spite, so it would track that he'd probably take on some activity or another and/or stick with it out of spite. He might not be spiteful necessarily, though. None of them really are.

51. What’s a non verbal way they say I love you? There's a lot of this in the fic for everyone involved. I'll pick two and share mini snippets. For Nyenna toward Athis, she'd run her fingers through his hair.

“Mornin’,” he said, voice still heavy with sleep. He yawned widely and sat up, rubbing his eyes. He got up out of bed and cracked the stiffness from his neck. She approached him and ran her fingers through his hair. He had no idea why she did this, always admiring something about him he thought so little about. It was charming. When he tried to return the favor, his fingers got tangled in the silvery curls, same as every day, really. She let out a surprised laugh and helped him untangle. He smiled and leaned down to kiss her. Her hands were warm against his face as she kissed him back gently.

For Teldryn toward Nyenna, he will always heal her first before himself as best as he can.

He held her close, Healing spells active in both hands. “You’re okay?” he asked, worry written across all his features. She coughed weakly, but managed a nod. “What on Nirn…?” she whispered hoarsely, wincing. Her hand flew to her neck. He pressed his gauntleted hand over hers and concentrated his spell there. Her shoulders slumped as the overwhelming pain slowly started to subside.

57. Whose the serious one when grocery shopping and who likes to toss random things in the cart? LOL insofar as Tamriel has 'grocery' shopping...let's just call it a normal day at Belethor's shop. Nyenna is the responsible one and keeps household ledgers and has a list of needful things to retrieve. Athis and Teldryn are the "I'm not really saving up for anything" kind of people and would buy yet another cool knife if the opportunity presented itself.

#AskMareena #MareenaWrites #The World on Our Shoulders #Athis #Nyenna #Teldryn Sero #LDB/Teldryn Sero #LDB/Athis #Skyrim #tes #tesblr #ask game #skyrim fic #fanficblr

9 notes · View notes

heliosthegriffin · 3 years ago

Text

Jaune Arc and a great deal of violence Page II

Page I

---

The Magic Power of the Rooms had yet to fail Jaune.

So, when he entered the way out from the Arena and found himself in a frozen tundra with only a snow and ice covered shack in front of him. He didn’t hesitate to burst in there.

He was surprised when he turned around to take his sword out of the guy he impaled to see him sitting up, cleaning the blade with his shirt. The wound in his stomach closing into a angry red line.

“Ah, here.” The man gave him a smile and presented Jaune back his ancestral blade.

Jaune looked blankly at him, but nodded, taking his now cleaned Crocea Mors putting it back on his waist.

“You hungry?” Jaune asked, saying the first thing that came to mind. “These places always have food!” Anxiety and some guilt jumping inside his stomach, unsure how to deal with someone he impaled.

The man nodded. “Very much.”

So, the pair entered the Icy shack.

Jaune stopped, his hair standing up on the back of his neck, while the other man walked into the shack.

Looking over his shoulder he caught a glimpse of something large and white disappear over the horizon. Were they being watched? Could they be attacked here?

No, they probably find. If he hadn’t been attacked by anything in here yet, why do so now?

It was probably like that hologram back in the man-cave. Just something to fill up space, or maybe a harmless native. Whatever it was, if it wasn’t going to bother him, it wasn’t Jaune’s problem as far as he was concerned.

The shack was small, but surprisingly well insulated, being about the size of a small bedroom. A small table set with two bowls full of steaming hot rice and Salmon fillets on top. Neither of the two hesitated to devour the food at the ready, sitting on the cold floor opposite sides of the room saying nothing.

Jaune’s eyes wandered over to his... prisoner of war? Hostage? He wasn’t sure what to call him. He was dirty, and dressed in rags. Bald headed with sharp eyes brows and hazel skin, he wasn’t really anything out of the ordinary. Though, he had to be a little weird to end up here, right?

“Is something on your mind?” The man asked. “Your gaze is questioning.”

Jaune froze as he was put on the spot. Desperately looking for something to say, his eyes darted outside.

Where he locked eyes with a giant white furred creature standing on two legs looking in through the window. Beady black eyes stared into his blue eyes, it’s lips pulled back in a smile. A large set of antler on the side of it’s head, it winked at him and disappeared in a vortex of snow flakes.

“Did you see that?!” Jaune pointed outside, his company looked at him confused, before looking over at the window.

“See what?”

Jaune looked at the man and window in confusion. Did that really happen? Or did he have a small mental break? No! It was definitely real!

Jaune ran out of the building, to where the creature had been. “The big thing! You saw it right? It was like some bear-ape with antlers!”

“I... did not see it.”

Jaune looked around for any evidence, but no footprints, no hair, no nothing!

He sighed, putting his hand on the icy exterior of the shack. Where he found a staff that he was sure wasn’t there earlier! Did that thing leave it as a present?

Holding it up, he found it well balanced, around two to three pounds, and about six feet long. Made of a rich dark-brown wood studded with metal toward either pole of the pole, and capped with a couple inches of bright silvery metal on both ends.

It looked like it could sell for a lot.

“Oh, how wondrous.” Came his company's voice. “... May I hold it?” Jaune looked at the staff in thought, wondering if it was good idea.

Jaune handed it over as he was already armed, and if he beat him once, he could do it again.

His company held the staff in his hands, looking at it with awe. Then guarded with against a unseen attack, before counter-attacking with great speed. He worked the weapon well.

“Here,” The man presented the staff back to him. “It is an excellent weapon,”

Jaune thought about it for a moment, then shrugged. “No, keep it. You’ll probably need it more than I will in the future.” He didn’t know how to fight with a staff either.

The man looked surprised, then smiled happily. “My wholehearted thanks. I will not forget your generosity.”

Jaune looked at the man’s half-rotting clothes, then to his duffel bag, and sighed. “Hey, uh, you look about my size, or a little smaller.” He pulled out the extra clothes he found earlier. “You want these?”

The man eyed them up and down, then nodded with approval. “I would greatly appreciate them, yes.” Jaune tossed them over to him through the shack’s window.

A few minutes later, the man came out dressed in a black-tee and blue jeans, Jaune didn’t remember if he gave him shoes, or if he just didn’t care. But, he also had sneakers too, now.

“Alright, uh, I guess your all good now?”

“I am well, yes.”

Jaune frowned, and decided to break the ice. “Alright, who are you and what happens next?”

“Ah, I was wondering when you would get to that.” He looked back at the shack. “Let us return inside.”

“Yeah,” Jaune nodded, remembering how cold it was out here.

The two men sat down across from each other cross-legged. “Let us start with names and occupation. I’m Gary the Cobbler, or at least was one. I worked for a shoe-makers guild as a merchant selling my wares from town to town, until one day my caravan was raided by bandits. I remember wishing to have more strength to defend myself and ended up here.”

“Oh,” Jaune felt a little sad for him. “Sorry about that.”

“It is what it is, I fought my way through this place until I fought you and lost, I’m quite surprised to be alive, as I had never thought of mercy as an option yet.”

“Yeah, uh, me too. I’ll be honest, I don’t like killing, so I’m trying to avoid it if I can.”

“How noble.” Gary said with a nod. “So, my kind savior, what is your name?”

“Jaune Arc, I’m a warrior in training, I guess. I was about to start my training, but felt like I needed more experience then ended up here.”

“How ironic.”

Jaune snorted. “Alright, smart-ass. So, I guess we should keep talking, I’m seventeen and have no idea what I’m doing. But, I’m going to get out of this place, alive and preferably in one piece. I want to see my family, go and become a huntsman, and hopefully get a girlfriend.”

Gary smiled, a distant look in his eyes. “Ah, love. I too wish to see my wife and family again.” He gave a dark look towards Jaune. “Though, I wouldn’t mind seeing those bandits again, once I get out.”

Jaune felt a little stunned at the sudden shift of tone, but shrugged it off, if he wanted to take vengeance he wouldn’t stop him, it wasn’t his place.

“Wait! You’re married?” Jaune shouted, quite surprised.

Gary nodded, a calm smile on his face. “Yes, my loves Elise and Diana, my legal wife and my mistress.” His face turned coy. “We make it work.”

Jaune’s mouth hung open. “Wow, uh, good for you. I see why you would fight so hard, and why you want vengeance.”

“Very much, though, I imagine my loves will be quite happy with my improve athleticism.”

“So, how did that happen? Asking for a friend.” Jaune said with a blush. “Also, how old are you?”

“I’m twenty five, I married at fifteen but I was in a relationship with Diana since I was thirteen. Diana was my neighbor growing up and closest to me outside my family of forty including me. What happened, it was just a natural progression of events,”

“Forty?! That’s like four times my family size..”

“Well, my aunt’s, uncles, grandparents, and cousins all like at the family estate as well. I only have 3 brothers and five sisters, speaking of which? Would you like to marry one or two of them? They need good husbands, I could also persuade my cousins to join in, maybe my widowed aunt Kessa, too.”

“What? NO, yes, maybe! I’ll get back to you on that. Go on with your story!”

Gary smiled mischievously. “I was only mostly joking, I can see you are naive in the ways of love.. Though, I will have you meet them given the chance. Back to my tale, my father apprenticed me under a large shoe maker’s guild in the largest city nearby, Hallowmessa. I worked under many men and women learning all facets of the trade, but ultimately, I was taken under the wing of my future father-in-law, Samuel Cobbler.”

“Wait, you took his name?” Jaune asked.

“Yes, it’s normal custom when you marry into a family, is it not?”

“Not where I’m from, you just combine your last names together. Like my sister’s last name is Cotta-Arc.”

Gary looked perplexed at that statement. “How odd. Anyway, once again with the tale. Samuel treated me like a son, and had no children other than Diana, he offered to make me a part of his family, and I agreed, as that was the fastest way out of my apprenticeship, and actually being a merchant.”

Jaune looked at him. “Why’s that?”

Gary quirked a smile. “Simply put, I was poor, Jaune. Samuel was a well establish merchant with connections, supplies and resources. I had only enough to survive a couple months on my own. If I married into his family, I would be able learn directly under him, and inherited his business once he retired.”

“What about Diana?”

“She was a lawyer, she had no interest in the business?”

“Oh, go on then.”

“As I said, I was already with my Elise at the time and did not want to leave him, I negotiated with Diana and Samuel to making Elise my mistress. Samuel understood, and Diana, may she forgive me for saying this, was ten years my senior, beautiful and stunning, and she did not have time or patience for romance... Though, I suspect that she also has affections for both sexes, as well. Which isn’t well regarded in my country... Which funnily enough, often leads to many bigamous marriages. Ironic, no?”

“Uh, yeah. Funny about that... My sister would not be well regard there, I suppose. Or the other six, since they flip-flop on it depending on the day.”

Gary raised an eyebrow. “Seven sisters and one boy, your parents are quite healthy.”

“Tell me about it.”

“I would, but I know little about them.”

“Ha, true.”

“So, when did your family begin your warrior training? Typically, warrior training in my country starts as soon as the child can walk if they are from warrior stock, but other’s start around the end of they’re childhood, typically around they’re sent off to be apprentices.”

“Uh, about that....” Jaune looked away, then muttered. “They didn’t train me, I’m not even sure how much training I need to be a Huntsman...”

Gary was silent for a minute, eyes closed, then sighed. “It is not an uncommon practice, for parents to coddle they’re children, to hold them tightly until they squirm away. It’s a well-meaning, but foolish decision.” He stared at Jaune’s hands and arms. “Is your family warrior-stock? Or of blood?”

Jaune nodded. “Yeah, my father, his father, and his father.”

“Did they attempt to train you?”

Jaune frowned. “A little, but my grandfather passed away before he could teach me much, and my dad wasn’t around enough to teach me, and my mom didn’t want me to be a Huntsman. And, I didn’t really train.”

Gary nodded. “I understand. They were foolish.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Jaune asked heatedly. “I’m the one that didn’t push it, and make them train me!”

Gary quirked an eyebrow. “You clearly have the talent, or perhaps luck, as you have survived up till now, your scars are a testament to that. Your voice is rough, your right eye is permanently dilated and discolor from your left, and through the holes on your clothes, I see the angry colors left from past battles. You would be dead if you did not have some skill at fighting.”

“Yeah, but whats that have to do with them!”

Gary sighed. “Jaune, my friend. A child can only grow as well as he is supported. You are a good man, and your family should have pride in raising you well. I also understand that no parent should wish they’re child pain or violence, but that is a flawed and ignorant view of the world. It’s not about wishing them suffering, it’s about preparing them for the danger of the world and if they must suffer some to endure much, that is for the best. In this capacity they have failed you.”

“Well, what about you then! You said you wished you had the strength to defend yourself! Did your family train you?”

“Yes, they did, enough to fight off the common thug or beast, but I did not build upon they’re lesson, Jaune they’re tales from my country of men fighting off armies of sixty, seventy, or even one hundred men. There were men who often kept peace in the city and fought tens of men at a time during certain times. My lack of strength came from my own laziness, yours came from a lack of support. Our tales are not the same.”

Jaune looked down. “My family are good, they’re good people.”

“I’m sure they are, but everybody makes mistakes. My family did, and yours did as well. This is not me saying condemn them, but learn from them. If you have children, train them well.”

Jaune huffed, and then smiled. “Yeah, I will. Make them strong as I can.”

“Good, now. Tell me about his place you would have trained?”

“Beacon, it’s a school for warriors, they’re sent to train to fight monster’s called Grimm.”

“Oh? Interesting.”

“And, that’s about all I know.”

Gary raised an eyebrow, then chuckled. “You were truly unprepared my friend. Maybe, it’s for the best you are here. Anythign could have happened there, maybe they would have tossed your from the cliffs and told you to fly!”

Jaune laughed. “Yeah! Who knows... So, what comes next?”

Gary smiled. “That is up to you my friend. I owe you a life-debt and fight by your side as long as possible, but should you wish for me to depart, I shall.”

Jaune shook his head. “You owe me nothing. Your life is your own.”

“Then all the more reason to help you, your kindness is a blessing to all. I will not let it be harmed. You have gave me life, weapon, and clothing, I can never pay you back for that. My family and my loves would never forgive me.”

“Then,” Jaune reached out a hand. “Well do it as friends, partners, until we get out of here.”

Gary smile and clasped his hand. “Indeed.”

‘Party Created!!’ The voice boomed, ‘Loot created!’

Jaune nearly jumped back, but Gary seemed nonplussed about it.

“You get used to loud sounds in sells.”

Jaune nodded, turning his head to the five boxes with the words, ‘Loot’ on them.

“Lets open these then.” Jaune said smiling.

“Indeed.”

Prying open the first box, Jaune reached in to find another small vial with another skull in crossbones, that read Crawler Poison.

‘More poison?’ He thought, putting it in his pocket, then immediately took out and sat on the table. Gary might want to see it.

Gary opened another box, pulling out a full chess set.

“Huh, neat.” Jaune commented, Gary nodded. “Do you know what its?”

“It’s a game from back home, do you know what that is?” Jaune said dangling the poison.

“Poison. Please store it safely.”

Jaune opened another box. “Oh, come on!”

“What is it?”

Jaune held up a barrel, an empty barrel.

Gary smiled. “Don’t look at it poorly, a good barrel can always come in handy.”

“I guess. What did you get?”

He held up a candle. “It will be useful, probably.”

Then Jaune opened the last box, pulling out a square yard of Canvas. “I don’t know what to say.”

Gary though, had quite the smile. “Oh, that we are most fortunate! Is what you should say, as Canvas is one of the most versatile materials we could have found!”

“really?”

“Yes! It can used for clothing, shelter, sailing, and so much more! Though, we’d need a bit more of sailing or shelter, but this is a good start.”

Jaune nodded his head. “Alright then.”

Storing everything in the cart, Jaune had one last thought. “Hey, these fights are going to only get tougher I think from here. Do you think we should start practicing?”

Gary pulled himself from the cart, done organizing everything. “If you so wish, I believe it to be a good idea.”

“Alright, then I guess we should start.”

-----

And, so after getting in some practice, the duo set off to the next fight.

#Jaune Arc #Gary the Cobbler

31 notes · View notes

ray-ray-writings · 4 years ago

Text

Warming Up-Technoblade

This is a Technoblade x gn!reader in the dreamsmp! In this, we’re going to pretend that every village has a name, you’ll see why.

TW: Mention of domestic abuse. It’s very very brief, like one sentence long.

Check out my masterlist here!

Philza and Techno find something in the snow that definitely shouldn’t be there and take it back to Techno’s house to warm up

Technoblade’s POV

There wasn’t supposed to be anyone but Philza and me on this path. Ever. It was the path that Philza and I trekked to get from my home in the tundra to L’Manberg and vice versa. It was only known by the two of us. There shouldn’t have been anyone else here, it’s hidden… Lot of good that did me.

The walk started normally. Philza and I left his house in L’Manberg to go back to mine. I had something to show him and he wanted to come see it. So we took off down our path, bundled up tight. We walked for many blocks, making random conversation about the goings on in the server. We had almost made it back to my house, only about 150 blocks to go. I didn’t notice the body, Phil did. He was in the middle of a sentence and cut himself off with a gasp.

“What?” I questioned, really confused as to what was happening. He said nothing, only rushed forward further down the path. I immediately hopped into action and followed behind him. There was no way I was letting my father run off on his own. I watched, almost in amazement, as Philza dropped to the ground and slid on his knees, coming to a stop as he leaned over something on the ground.

As I joined him at his side, he shrugged off his winter coat and placed it on the ground. “Dadza, what are you-” My question froze in my throat as I looked to the ground. There, lying unconscious in the snow, was a person. They had cuts and bruises strewn about their face, a deep red stain soaked their shirt, telling us they were injured. Their eyes were closed, but short shallow breaths puffed from their parted blue lips letting me know they were alive. “Who is that?” I croaked, dropping to my knees beside my father. “I don’t know. I don’t recognize them. And how they got all the way out here is an absolute miracle,” Dadza stated, grabbing their arm to check their hearts. They’re health bar was a little below half but after a few moments of staring at it, they lost half a heart.

“We need to get them inside… Do you mind?” I let out a sigh, I knew what he was asking. As much as I didn’t want a housemate, I couldn’t just leave this person to freeze. “Yeah, okay. Just put your coat back on. I don’t need you freezing too. My internal body temperature is hot enough for me, I’ll give them my cloak,” I grumbled, a little begrudgingly. Dadza gave a quick nod before pulling his coat off of the person and slipping it on to his own body once more.

In one swift motion, I unclasped the cape and swung it around and laid it down on the person. “I’ll carry them bridal style. Let’s hope they don’t have back injuries,” I muttered, standing up, Dadza doing the same. I quickly bent down and scooped them up in arms, stumbling a little under the weight, but Dadza’s arm held me steady. Dadza tucked my cape closer to the unconscious person’s skin before the two of us trudged back to my cabin.

Once we had made our way to the house, I quickly brought the stranger into my living room. “Dadza,” I announced motioning my head to the couch and then to the fireplace. He took the hint and pushed the piece of furniture closer to the fire. I slowly leaned down and placed the person down on my couch. Once I was sure they were secure, I turned to my father, “Do you want to get the blankets or the first aid kid?” “I’ll get the first aid kit and begin taking care of their wounds. I’ll begin on their stomach as it’s obvious they’re bleeding from there.”

The two of us walked further into my home to do our respective tasks. I couldn’t help the grumbles that escaped my lips. So much for having a fun day with my father. After gathering my warmest blankets, my dresser caught my eye. I let out an annoyed sigh before walking over and getting an old sweatshirt of mine and some sweatpants. It’s obvious their clothes are ruined, you know, cause of the blood stain… Why did this have to happen to me?

Philza was already working on their face by the time I entered the room. He looked relieved at the sight of me. “They’re clothes are ruined… I’ll dress them if you want to prep whatever you were going to show me,” Dadza offered as I set the items on the back of my couch. I gave him a short nod and turned around. I was glad Philza had offered to take care of them. It’s not that I wouldn’t, I just don’t think I’d be very good at it. Besides, I had other things to do anyway.

*Time skip and POV Change*

Y/N’s POV

It was warm. Too warm. Hot. Why is it so hot? Aren’t I in the tundra… Wait is that a fire? Crackling? Oh god, I’m going to be burned alive.

My eyes snapped open and a gasp escaped my lips as I attempted to sit up as fast as I could. A shooting pain in my stomach caused me to gasp again and fall back into the sno-- nope this isn’t snow. My eyes scanned the room wildly and found that I was in a cabin, lying on a couch, next to a fireplace. Once again, I attempted to sit up, but was too weak to do it on my own causing a hiss to pass my teeth, “Woah there,” A gentle voice called as a friendly hand placed itself on my back, gently lifting me up and helping me sit up and lean against the arm of the couch. My eyes focused on a blonde man with a soft complexion in front of me. His eyes raised from his hands to my eyes, “You alright?” He asked softly. I felt comforted in his presence. Something from deep within me told me to trust him. So I did.

I gave a slow nod, noticing that when I did my skull pounded. “Yeah,” I croaked, my throat extremely dry, “I’m okay… Thanks… Not to be rude but who are you and where am I?” I asked, my eyes scanning around the room once more. The blonde man let out a small laugh as he backed away from me, not going far. Just far enough to give me some space. “I’m Philza, you can call me Phil. My son, Technoblade, and I found you on our journey home a few hours ago. You were unconscious in the snow. As for where you are-” “You’re in my house,” a monotone voice cut Phil off. My eyes shifted to where the voice sounded, they didn’t have to go far.

At the other end of the couch stood an extremely attractive tall man, pink hair framing his scar littered face. “And who are you?” I asked hoarsely, my throat still very dry. “I’m his son… Well one of them. I’m Technoblade and you’re in my house,” he stated, his eyes boring into me. I gave a small hum of acknowledgement, remembering that it hurt when I nodded. “Here,” He said, passing a cup to his father before his father handed me the cup along with a few pills. “For your pain,” Philza murmured, pressing the cup and the pills into my hand.

I eagerly lifted the cup to my throat and allowed the cool liquid to coat my throat before bringing the small pills to my lips and swallowing them as well. Bringing the cup down and my hand up to my mouth to dry my upper lip, I noticed I wasn’t in my clothes. “Your clothes were… damaged. So we put you in some of Techno’s old clothes. I changed you. I hope that doesn’t make you uncomfortable,” Philza stated, his eye shifting nervously. I gave him a small shrug, “It’s fine. You guys saved me. You didn’t have to. Thank you,” I said, my eyes shifting between the two.

Philza gave me a soft smile, and Techno was still staring into my soul, “It’s what anyone would do… Would you mind telling us your name?” Philza asked, trying not to intrude. “Oh! I’m Y/N… I’m from the Village of Blockley!” I informed the two. Both sets of eyes widened in disbelief at my announcement. “Blockley? That’s well over 2,000 blocks away from here! Why have you come all this way?” Philza questioned in shock. “It’s a bit of a long story…” I trailed off, not really wanting to bother them with my sob story. “We’ve got time,” Philza prompted, motioning for me to continue. I turned my head to get confirmation from the other man. He gave me a small shrug before sitting down on the arm of the couch, folding his arms and leaning in toward me. I let out a sigh before shrugging… Here we go.

“I was born and raised in Blockley. As I grew up, I got tired of the same old routine. Wake up, go to work with my father, the town’s cleric, break for lunch, back to work, work till sundown, be inside as soon as it’s dark, go to sleep, wake up the next morning and do it all over again. I wanted to leave, find something new, something exciting. I told my father all of this. He thought the idea of me leaving was stupid. He told me that there was no way that anywhere else would accept me and that I would be left alone, defenceless and I would come crawling back to the village. I disagreed, of course. We got into a verbal fight and it escalated. My father struck me. And then he threw me out, told me that if I wanted to leave then to leave and never come back. I would never be welcome back in the Village of Blockley… So I left.

“I wondered for a very very long time. I had very little supplies and no sense of direction. I somehow ended up in tundra completely under prepared… I was about to go back the way I came when I was attacked by a zombie. I had never fought before, we had an iron golem to take care of it and I was always inside by sundown. Well I killed it, but not without a few injuries and completely draining my body. I was limping back the way I came once more, but a skeleton shot me in the stomach causing me to collapse in the snow. I think he thought I was dead, so he left me alone. That’s the last thing I remember. And now I’m here because you saved me… And for that I owe you my life.”

Silence followed my story for many moments. The two seemed absolutely stunned at my story. As I was about to speak again, arms wrapped themselves around my shoulders carefully, still mindful I was sore. “Jesus kid,” Phil mumbled in my shoulder, “I’m so sorry. You don’t owe us anything kiddo. You can stay here as long as you like,” He offered gently. Tears pricked in my eyes as I squeezed the older man back. This is just what I needed a fatherly figure to tell me I was welcome somewhere. Wait, it’s not his house.

Still in the hug, my head shifted to Techno. He seemed angry, but somehow I knew that it wasn’t aimed at me. The two of us locked eyes, “He’s right Y/N,” Techno spoke carefully, “You can stay here as long as you want. You’ll always be welcome in my home.” And there go the tears. A small sob escaped my lips. I had only just met these people, but I knew that I was always meant to find them. “Oh don’t cry honey,” Phil tried to comfort in a panic.

A watery laugh escaped my lips as I buried my face in his broad shoulder, “These are happy tears Phil. I promise. Thank you. Thank you for welcoming me. That means more to me than you’ll ever know.”

*Time skip*

I could tell that Techno was really having to work on getting used to having another person in his house. Every morning I would walk into the kitchen and he would jump, go to draw a weapon, and then his eyes would meet mine and he would let his guard down before going back to whatever it was he was doing. He would take me with him to explore or gather materials but the words that were spoken between us were few and scarce. I didn’t mind though. I knew that it was definitely a new and sudden change for him to have to deal with. So I made myself as useful as possible.

When Techno would leave me home alone, I would spend that afternoon cleaning and organizing the house so that by the time Techno returned the house was spotless. I would also make sure there was food ready for him when he got back home so he wouldn’t have to worry about making himself something to eat. I always took the time to ask about his day, even if his answers were short and choppy. I could tell that he often felt awkward in the silence between us, so I filled it. I would always talk to him, tell him about my day, the new gossip I heard from Phil, or just about nothing and everything. On days I didn’t want to talk, I would play soft music throughout the house so the silence wasn’t so deafening.

I could tell that my actions were slowly but surely warming the thought of me living with Techno up. I would catch small smiles that painted his face out of the corner of my eye as I babbled about how Philza had taught me a new bread recipe. My question of how his day was was met with longer explanations about what the pink headed man had done that day. Fond looks he didn’t know I could see would settle on his face as he found me taking things out of chests only to put them in different ones. The day I heard Techno laugh was the day I found my favorite sound.

As cliché as it is, as the two of us grew closer, I found myself falling deeper… Deeper in love with the man that had saved me. How could I not? Once he opened up, I found him to be the funniest, kindest, most lovable man ever. Techno tries so hard to appear tough to me, but it doesn’t fool me one bit. I once watched him cry because he stepped on a flower.

“Flowers aren’t supposed to grow in the tundra Y/N. That flower didn’t care, they put all their effort into growing and I crushed it!” He huffed, wiping away the tears that had escaped his eyes. I simply listened with a soft smile and nodded along. That was the day I realized I was in love with him. His fond looks, gentle touches, and soft words told me he felt the same.

“Hey, how’s it going in here?” Techno questioned softly, his hands gently brushing against my lower back. “Hey, it’s going good! Dinner will be ready in like 10 minutes,” I replied, peering into the oven to confirm my guesstimate. Techno hummed in acknowledgement and moved to sit next to me on the open counter. I playfully rolled my eyes at his actions, but couldn’t deny the soft smile that curled on my lips as I chopped carrots for the salad.

“Hey… I wanted to tell you something,” Techno spoke, breaking our peaceful silence. I let out a hum, tilting my head up, “What’s up?” I asked, my eyes locking with his. “I just wanted to tell you that… that I love you,” Techno admitted softly, his eyes not leaving me. The smile on my face widened at the confession. I quickly set down my knife before moving to stand in between his legs. I gently reached up and wrapped my arms around his neck, bringing him down to my lips for a soft kiss. Techno immediately kissed back, his hands moving quickly to settle on my hips, pulling me even closer to him.

“What was that for?” Techno muttered softly after the kiss was broken. “I just wanted to tell you, I love you too,” I murmured, my lips brushing against his as I spoke. “Tell me you love me again,” he demanded. I giggled at his shift of tone but complied, leaning forward and pressing my lips to his once more. Gosh I’m so glad they found me in the snow.

There you have it! I really hope you enjoyed! If so, be sure to leave a like!!

710 notes · View notes

bohica160 · 4 years ago

Text

Omegaverse - Night out with Hound Wolf Squad (pt. 1)

(Im gonna have to make this inton 2 parts because I fell asleep while typing this😅 2nd part will have smut)

ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗMinors gtfo, this isn't for youᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

You have no idea how you guys ended up here. It was the monthly get together for the Hound Wolf Squad. Normally you guys pick someone's place and play poker for the night and drink. On rare occasions you guys will venture out to a bar or 2. Since you are the only omega in the group, you have to be more cautious than everyone else when it comes to going out for drinks. You don't want to put any pressure on them to feel like they have to protect you. They never complained about it but you still feel guilty.

Tonight, with the approval of Alpha, the majority wanted to go out. However this time after the second bar, someone in the group suggested this place a couple blocks away. With the warmth of the liquor you all decided to walk to the next stop. You never felt more safe in your pack. The scents of the betas and the deltas help disguise your scent from others. As you guys rounded the corner you were blinded by flashing lights and loud blaring techno music. You were not expecting the next stop to be a club.

For some reason Lobo and Canine were all in for going inside to check it out as they watched a handful of gammas dressed for the club walk in. You shook your head, "Absolutely not. Not only are clubs a buzz kill, they overcharge for drinks, you can't hear anyone talking to you, and it smells like there's nothing but alphas in there."

Tundra placed a hand on your shoulder, "I dunno, something about those two getting denied by gammas and omegas sounds hilarious". Chris let out a sigh, "do we really have to go here? There's a good bar down the street". Once again it was the majority rule, and Lobo and Canine begging, you all made your way into the club.

While Lobo and Canine hit the floor and "used their charm", yourself and everyone else hung out at the bar. "God this music", you said out loud. "Did you say something?" Chris asked as he leaned towards you, arms crossed over his buff chest. You got on your toes, leaning into his ear, "This music sucks". Anytime you were this close to him, something inside of you stirs while his scent invading your space.

He hummed and nodded in agreement as he continued to look out around the room, sitting at one of the barstools. He was positive a number of alphas caught wind of your scent, since so many looked in your direction in hunger. You were either good at ignoring them or were just oblivious to the alphas trying to pump out their scents to catch your attention. Thankfully being this close to you, all you could really smell is him and the Squad members.

You were wondering why Chris was starting out onto the dance floor, wondering if someone caught his eye. You followed his gaze, your blood ran cold as your heart dropped into your stomach. Your scent changed like a flip of a switch, immediately getting Chris's attention. He snapped his head towards you, seeing the shocked look on your face. "Shit", you whispered. "What's wrong?", Chris asked in a worried tone.

"That….. that's my ex", you said softly. Chris looked back out, eyes darting. You reached up and tugged at Chris's shirt. "Chris, I need you to scent me". Not sure he heard you correctly, "what?" "I know, I know. It's too much to ask for and not right for me to ask, but please". You looked up at him with puppy eyes, your scent still bitter and sour.

He looked down at you with softened eyes and pink cheeks.He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into him. He tucked your head into his neck and started to pump out his scent to not only mark claim but to calm you down as well. You nuzzled against his scent glands and let out a soft purr.

#chris redfield x reader #chris redfield #resident evil #chris redfield smut #reader #resident evil smut #headcanon #drabble #resident evil x reader #alpha chris redfield #omega reader #omegaverse #a/b/o

164 notes · View notes

sexyglances · 3 years ago

Text

Hyejin and Dusik's Self-Reliance and How it Manifests in the Way They Present Themselves to the World

The clothes Hyejin and Dusik wear and objects they surround themselves in are so important to how they present themselves in society and indicative to how they socialized themselves to navigate the world.

We know Hyejin cares about designer clothing and she explicitly says in dialogue that that she uses her fancy clothes as armor. It's like a first line of defense against the incoming judgement she steels herself against. She clearly has a complex about being looked down upon. It's interesting because when she is comfortable in a situation and relates to someone on a personal level, she isn't guarded and worried about how she is being presented via fashion, but when she is unsure and feeling vulnerable, she relies on putting on an air of sophistication as a coping mechanism.

When she first moved to town she pointedly tried to show how she was used to living a certain lavish lifestyle. The way she insisted that "brands are very important to her, and how she described designing her ideal apartment with luxury goods from around the world. However, when she truly relates to people on a personal level, and she lets go of some of her detachedness, she stops caring as much about her armor and how she looks and she becomes a much softer and more genuine person. Even in the first episode when she was making friends with the fish restaurant owner, she only became self conscious again when someone noticed that she was wearing the cheap, disposable shoes. Or how she balked at wearing the apron to clean squid, but then ended up enjoying herself with the grandmas.

Based on this dichotomy, it seems like a lot of her own judgmental behavior is actually learned and socialized behavior from having to fend for herself so much of her life. Pretty sure she learned early on that to avoid being looked down upon she had to be seen as prestigious, and thus her fixation on keeping up appearances was born. It was most likely a defense mechanism borne against being seen as the poor helpless girl without a mother, so she worked hard in school to become a top student and then chose a prestigious profession where she could be relatively independently wealthy and be someone beyond reproach. This way she could stand on her own without the need for a family or connections to rely on and also free herself from societal judgement.

But this protection she puts around her also leaves her alone. She has literally one friend, none of her dental colleagues gave her a chance after she quit the Seoul dental clinic, and all her classmates were judging her at the wedding reception. The objects she buys, the fancy clothes she wears, are ways of her comforting herself. She hasn't had human care as a comfort device (even her dad seems emotionally absent), so the material goods she accumulates are physical manifestations of how she has been able to be a success all on her own. She buys these objects as comfort devices. And maybe Hyejin goes a bit overboard with her purchases, but as she has had to rely on herself so much, she just wants to be prepared (battle ready) and give herself comfort in the way she knows how to, in a way that doesn't rely on other people (people who might not even be there). This is her way of self-reliance.

To someone like Dusik, it can seem like mindless consumption. Like he said, why would she need so many clothes if she only has one body? That's because unlike Hyejin, he expressly rejects any air of pretentiousness as part of his own persona. Because he doesn't care what he looks like first then no one can judge him for it. Instead of finding luxury goods sophisticated, he finds focusing on opulence unnecessarily snooty instead. He has no desire to fit in with the elite and he proactively rejects any notion of being seen as elite expressly through his rejection of fashion as a way to denote his self-worth. To him, there's nothing to be gained from something beyond its utility. He has no shame wearing the slides from the bathroom in public because their label doesn't make them any less useful as shoes. If something can be useful to him, why does it matter what it looks like to anybody else?

But it's this rejection of optics in favor of a focus on utility that he uses as his own defense armor. And just like she does, he collects his armor too. His armor is just different than hers. If he can be a jack-of-all-trades, then he doesn't need to rely on anyone either. If there's a problem, he's the one that can fix it. He doesn't have to wait for help from someone that might not show up because they don't exist. He'd rather be relied upon than do any relying for himself, because that gives him his own sense of control. And there is control in being the go-to person in a small town rather than another faceless nobody in a large city like Seoul. This is his way of self-reliance.

Dusik's penchant for utility is reflected in the clothes he wears too. Rather than surround himself in extravagance, he focuses on utility and convenience that he can provide himself. A t-shirt is easier to move around in among his various jobs than a dress shirt. Jeans and work pants are more durable than slacks. All the pockets and zippers on his fishing vest give him the space for all the doo-dads and whats-its he might need to produce at any moment in order to fix various incoming problem. He might be a "fashion terrorist," but that doesn't mean he is entirely careless about his clothes. Rather, he expressly chooses to not care about the fashion aspect of what he wears as a way to separate himself from the part of society who would judge him for that. This is a choice he makes to present himself to the world in much the same way as Hyejin does, they just approach it from different angles.

Which plays into what Hyejin said about how they are a penguin from Antarctics and a polar bear from the Arctic. Yes, they are from opposite ends of the world (i.e. social standing), yes they have lived different lives whose harsh conditions impacted them in different ways (she chooses high-brow, he chooses to do minimum wage work), but they both understand what it is like to come from from a specifically cold and barren climate without parents and without the comfort of a familial safety net. A penguin and a polar bear may never originate in the same place, but that doesn't mean they can't relate to each other. The "frozen tundra" of the world is something they have both had to learn to navigate by themselves, and their own self-reliance--and by proxy, their pain and loneliness--something that they can recognize and understand in each other as well.

#hometown cha cha cha #kdrama #meta #my meta #homcha meta #also!#i couldn't find a neat way of including this in this essay #but it's so interesting how the times we see dusik wearing dress shirts are a) when he is visiting the clinic in seoul #and b) in the last scene of the morning routine montage with hyejin and their restaurant outing together #there's definitely some subconscious wanting-to-impress-her feelings brimming to the surface in his clothing choices for sure #i wonder what other gems eps 5 and 6 will unveil

125 notes · View notes

summerwritesfics · 2 years ago

Text

⛓️You’re Eager And Unashamed

Pairing: Hanzo Hasashi/Kuai Liang Length: 3996 Words Rating: Explicit 🔞 Warnings: BDSM/Modern AU, Sex Work, Handcuffs, Light Bondage, Safewords, Legalised Sex Work, Kink Negotiation, Piercings (Nipple & Genital), Butt Plugs, Anal Sex, Riding, Condoms, Praise Kink, Hand Jobs, Mentions of people trying to stop a sex worker from leaving in the past (0 idea how I was supposed to warn for that one TT0TT), Nothing like having an in depth discussion on the nature of sex work while balls deep in a sex worker Kinktober Day 11: BDSM Universe + Sex Work + Handcuffs

Kinktober Masterlist

Notes: Day 11, lmao. I’m running out of things to say lol. Most of this is Kuai and Hanzo having a casual chat about sex work while fucking lol. Still kinda reeling from yesterday & on top now not feeling well, so I’m sorry if the editing is a bit weak again. Hopefully I’ll get a good day soon lol. Title is from “5 Dollars” by Christine And The Queens

Kuai made his way down the street, periodically looking down at his phone to make sure he was going in the right direction.

The cilent he was trying to find had seemed extremely nervous on the phone. Kuai had done his best to assure him all his services were confidential. There were certain safety aspects he needed to deal with, sending a quick text to a trusted contact before and after the appointment, a 3 hour window between and should it go above, said contact was to call the police. But other than that, everything would stay between them.

The man hadn’t divulged much about himself, just that his name was Hanzo and he hadn’t slept with anyone in a long time. It wasn’t a new situation to Kuai, in fact he really specialised in using his submissive status to rebuild the confidence of doms who’d been out of the dating game for some time. That was why he’d been recommended to Hanzo, after all, but even so the poor guy seemed incredibly stressed about the situation. Over the phone, he hadn’t really wanted to discuss the session, so Kuai had agreed they could do it in person before they got down to business.

He finally found the house in question. It was nice, small with a well looked after lawn and flowerbed. It was hard to judge people based on their houses, some of the prettiest houses belonged to the shittiest people. He hoped this wouldn’t be a similar situation.

Kuai approached the door, and knocked a few times, looking over his shoulder to keep an eye out for nosey neighbours. Not that they’d find much. He was wearing a very plain hoodie that was large enough to hide the blue collar he was wearing. Although they would only know he was a sex worker if they saw the tag on it, something most people didn’t see.

The door opened, revealing a tall Japanese man on the other side. He was dressed up nicely, a button up shirt, trim beard and his long hair brushed back and tied in a tight bun. He was fucking stunning, if Kuai was being honest.

“Hanzo?” Kuai asked, hoping to god this was the man he was meeting, even if internally he berating himself for being so shallow. The man hummed in confirmation. “I’m Tundra, we talked on the phone.”

“Oh. Yes. Of course,” Hanzo numbly said. It wasn’t in a disappointed tone, just one that indicated he was still very unsure about what he was about to do. Kuai could work with that. “Please, come in.”

Hanzo moved aside and Kuai bowed his head in thanks before letting himself inside. The door shut behind him, Hanzo locking it too. Kuai brought out his phone to send his safe text. While Bi-Han and Tomas generally were supportive of his occupation, they also had a horrible habit of breaking the confidentiality aspect, wanting to know details about his exploits. He knew it was out of a place of concern, but it was frustrating to have to keep repeating “I can’t talk about it” over and over.

It was rather ironic that the one person he found who took keeping his mouth shut seriously was a massive gossip about almost everything else.

[Kuai Liang said: Hey Johnny! Y’know the drill! I just arrived, I’ll send you another text once I’m done! If I don’t message back in three hours, contact authorities!] [Johnny said: I gotchu man! Have fun with your dick appointment! 🍆] [Kuai Liang said: 😘]

“Just so you know I’ve sent my safety text,” Kuai announced as he followed Hanzo into a rather cozy living room. “I have to send another before three hours are done.”

“I understand,” Hanzo muttered, gesturing for Kuai to sit down on one of the sofas. “Although, may I ask what the purpose of the text actually is?”

“It’s just a precaution. While the majority of clients are perfectly respectful, there are occasions where they are, ah, less so.” Kuai sat down on the sofa, watching as Hanzo followed suit opposite him. “Unfortunately, I’ve been in situations where clients try to block me from leaving. If that happens I have someone on the outside to raise the alarm.”

“Oh, I never thought of it like that,” Hanzo replied, rubbing the back of his neck. “I assumed since y’know, theres laws that protect you guys, that would be enough.”

“Well, I mean, the law also says that murder is illegal and people still do it,” Kuai countered, and he could see from the way Hanzo’s lips pursed that the point had gotten across. “Anyway, I know you seemed nervous on the phone, but I will assure you, no details of what we do today will leave this room. All my contact knows is my location, and as soon as we are done, he will delete that from his phone.”

“Right,” Hanzo breathed out, “I apologise, this all just feels very embarrassing for a man of my age.”

“There’s nothing to be embarrassed about,” Kuai softly told him. In reality he’d had clients much older than Hanzo was. “Is there anything I can do to make you more comfortable?”

“I don’t know.”

“Okay, then how about this, what do you want to get out of our session?” Kuai asked, usually it was a good question to gage where the client was and what might be the best solution.

“I want to regain my confidence in dating,” Hanzo answered, voice steady and sure, it was the first thing he’d said that wasn’t laced with nervous energy. “My wife died 5 years ago, and I’m finally at a place where I feel ready to begin dating again. Yet I’ve found that I am struggling to find my feet.”

“Firstly, I would like to give my condolences on your loss.” It was hard sometimes. Client’s often let their walls down around him, and he had to act almost like a therapist on top of his primary job. Hanzo was not the first widower he’d been hired by. It was common for people in this position to hire a sex worker before going back into the dating scene. “But I have a lot of experience in this.”

“I was recommended you for that reason,” Hanzo admitted, “I uh, a friend of mine lost his wife and you helped him.” Word of mouth was a wonderful thing. “So, um, I’m not really sure where to begin, so…”

“Well, in my experiences, I have found it helps to start slow,” Kuai recalled, putting aside any curiosity of the previous client. “I know our society expects sub and dom to be the norm, but it is often better to build up with light activity before trying more ambitious acts.”

“That makes sense.” Hanzo almost seemed to let out a big breath, and it was amazing how with that one thing he seemed to relax considerable. “So, light activity? Like, light bondage? A pair of handcuffs?”

“Yes,” Kuai confirmed. It was a good sign Hanzo had already begun to suggest things. “Um, I unfortunately do not bring my own equipment-“

“I have handcuffs,” Hanzo interrupted, before realising what he’d just said and putting his hand over his mouth. “S-Sorry. I brought new stuff when I decided to start dating, but I don’t exactly feel comfortable using it all yet.”

“That’s okay, today we can just try the handcuffs, see how we go,” Kuai assured. It was kind of endearing though, how Hanzo seemed so dominant yet so unsure of himself.

“Right,” Hanzo agreed nodding absentmindedly. “I- Uh- I guess this is about the point we should start, right?”

“Unless there is anything else you would like to address before hand?” Kuai prompted. “Granted even if something comes to you while we’re at it, you are more than welcome to voice it.”

“Uh, there is one thing,” Hanzo said as he pushed himself to stand. He gestured for Kuai to follow him, and so Kuai did, getting off the sofa and following Hanzo towards the stairs. “I know we are not doing anything particularly heavy, but, in regards to safewords?”

“If having one will make you feel more comfortable, then we can have one.” They were at the top of the stairs now, Hanzo leading Kuai into a rather nicely decorated bedroom. “How does red sound?”

“That works.” Hanzo walked over towards his closet, opening it to reveal the man instruments he had been buying.

Kuai tried not to laugh at how overboard and overambitious he’d been. No wonder the man was lost when he’d brought sex toys even Kuai had never seen before. He would have to do some research after this session to figure out what the fuck some of them where meant to do. All Hanzo reached for was several different pairs of handcuffs, one solid metal, one fluffy and one with leather cuffs attached by a chain.

“Do you have a preference?” Hanzo questioned holding the three out.

“I do find the leather ones more comfortable,” Kuai stated. He’d tried all three, and others, and there was just something nice about leather. It always tended to feel more sturdy than the metal ones.

“Yeah, the leather ones are the hottest option,” Hanzo agreed, before realising what he’d said and looking embarrassed. He seemed to relax again when Kuai laughed.

“I mean, that too~” Kuai purred, “I have been told I do look my best strapped down with leather.”

Hanzo cleared his throat, making a high pitched whine as he did. He looked away quickly and put the two rejected pairs back. When he turned back, he was looking a lot more composed.

“So, uh, do we undress ourselves or…?” Hanzo partially asked, dragging out the last r to a ridiculous degree.

“Do you want to undress me?” Kuai asked, and Hanzo gave a non-comital shrug. “Or would it make you more comfortable if I got undressed first?”

Hanzo’s lips pursed as he thought about that question, before answering with “You first.”

Alright, I can work with that. Kuai reached for the bottom of his hoodie, pulling it up to remove it. He looked for somewhere to put it, rather than dumping it on the floor, and Hanzo gestured towards a desk. After Kuai placed it down, he turned around so Hanzo could watch him undress properly. As he yanked his top up and over his head, he enjoyed the way Hanzo’s eyes were solidly on him. Well, they were on his chest, seemingly distracted and entranced by the nipple piercing’s he had.

Well, if it was piercing’s he liked, Kuai couldn’t wait for Hanzo to see his dick.

He reached for his belt, unbuckling it and slipping it out of it’s hoops. He liked to be a bit of a tease, so he removed only his trousers and socks first, leaving him standing in nothing but his boxers. When his hands finally hooked into the hem of his underwear, and Hanzo sharply inhaled in anticipation. Ah, Kuai was being mean now, wasn’t he? He finally pulled his pants down, letting his already half hard cock spring free. Hanzo’s eyes widened as he spotted the small metal balls down the shaft.

“Is there something wrong?” Kuai innocently asked, putting the pants down with the rest of his clothes, and approaching the stunned man.

“Wow, Kenshi did not tell me about those.” Hanzo gasped, and oh, the previous client Hanzo mentioned was Kenshi. Kuai remembered him, they’d had a few sessions together. He was fun, and very kind as well. Kuai missed him actually, he always seemed to go home with homemade food of some kind. “Did- Did they hurt?”

“Not as much as you’d think.” Then again, being a bit of a masochist Kuai had fairly high pain tolerance so his opinion might have been skewed. “Although for a while after certain bodily functions were not fun to go through.”

“I can imagine,” Hanzo replied with a wince. “I like them though, your dick is very pretty.”

Kuai snorted, “well I’m flattered you like my pretty dick so much.” He raised an eyebrow, and tilted his head. “So can I see yours?”

“I suppose that would be fair,” Hanzo laughed with a sheepish grin.

He passed the cuffs over to Kuai, before taking a few steps back. His hands reached for his shirt, undoing the buttons slowly. He pulled the fabric off of him, revealing his torso to Kuai. He was fit, obviously looked after himself and worked out. Kuai didn’t judge people on their appearance, but it was undeniable that Hanzo was hot. Hanzo moved to his belt, undoing the buckle and sliding it out. He wasn’t as much as a tease as Kuai Liang however, as once it was gone he hooked his hands into his trousers and underwear and pulled them down and off.

When Kuai saw his cock, all the could do was say “wow!”

Kuai had seen a lot of semi erect cock’s over the years, but this was probably the biggest.

“Well, that probably the biggest one word compliment I’ve ever received.” Hanzo was positively beaming, it was amazing how much just one word seemed to boost his confidence. “I mean, you must have seen bigger right.”

“I really have not,” Kuai whispered, trying to not just stand and staring at Hanzo’s cock but finding it extremely hard. Pun not intended. “Congrats on that.”

“You flatter me,” Hanzo snorted, reaching for the cuffs again. He levelled Kuai with a stare, smirking the entire time. All the nervous energy seemed to be gone, replaced with a certain cockiness that somehow made him even more handsome. “Hand’s out.”

“Assertive, I like it,” Kuai commented, holding out his hands. Hanzo began to wrap the leather around his wrists. “Love a dom who knows what he wants and is bossy about it.”

“Oh really?” Hanzo questioned, buckling up the first cuff. “I don’t know, I was getting brat vibes off you.”

“I can like a man ordering me around while being super bratty about it. I like making men work for my obedience.” The second cuff was on his wrist, and Kuai bit his lip. “Maybe you’ll get to see that side of me at some point~”

Hanzo made a low groan from the back of his throat, “I’d like that. Slowly though?”

“As long as you need,” Kuai claimed, pulling on the cuffs to make sure they stuck. “How do you want me?”

“Would it be too much to have you ride me?” Hanzo requested, gently taking hold of Kuai’s hands and guiding him towards the bed.

“One of my favourite positions, so we can absolutely do that.” He wasn’t lying. He really enjoyed riding a dick, it was so intimate yet commanding to be made to do the majority of the work himself.

Hanzo sat down, pulling Kuai over to him. They didn’t have to worry about preparation too much, Kuai often did it before hand to keep things moving. He had a plug in his ass right now, keeping him stretched and the thick lube inside. Even so Hanzo pulled out a condom and bottle of extra lube that he left on the side presumably just in case. Meanwhile Kuai attempted to reach behind to remove the plug. Easier said than done with the cuffs on. As soon as Hanzo was done rolling, he reached around to pull the plug from Kuai’s ass.

“I did wonder about if we would need preparation,” Hanzo admitted, placing the plug down on the bedside cabinate. He positioned himself, laying back on the bed as Kuai crawled over to straddle his hips.

“It’s easier this way. Thanks for using the condom, by the way.” Kuai sat down and ground down onto Hanzo’s cock.

“I mean it was one of the first things you mentioned.” Hanzo reached for Kuai’s hips, and pushed down making Kuai rut against him. “Also seems like common sense in general.”

“You would not believe how many people try to get out of it,” Kuai flatly replied, before groaning at the feeling of Hanzo hardening underneath him.

“It seems this profession has a lot of cons,” Hanzo stated with a frown. “Why do you keep doing it? If that isn’t rude to ask?”

“Not rude, and for me personally?” Kuai bit his lip, resting his hands on Hanzo’s chest and gently scratching down his torso. “Despite the few bad apples I encounter, I do enjoy what I do.” He rolled his hips, gaining a pleasure filled moan from Hanzo. This was why he liked it. Getting a good client and absolutely rocking their world while helping them find their feet again. “Every job has it’s pitfalls, but at least with this one I set my own hours, and get to have a lot of fun working it.”

“True.” Hanzo reached down for his cock, angling it to try and find Kuai’s hole. Kuai positioned his hips above, trying to help guide him to the right place. “Does it ever effect relationships though? I’ve met a lot of doms who are super possessive of their subs, and would never allow them to do it.”

Kuai didn’t get to reply straight away, as he felt Hanzo’s cock poking at his entrance. He slowly lowered himself, feeling the head of Hanzo’s cock pop inside him as he slid down the rest of the length.

“It is hard to find men who aren’t like that, to be honest.” This was the first time he’d ever had an in depth discussion about his work with a cock in his ass. Definitely not the strangest conversation however, that was reserved for the guy who enjoyed pondering “trial by trolly” style conundrums while fucking. “But if a guy can’t accept that I’m happy and can’t get over their own jealousy I don’t think I’d be happy with them anyway.”

“I’ve never really thought about it,” Hanzo admitted, his hands taking hold of Kuai’s hips. “I think I’d be a little jealous, at least at first.”

“I think that’s natural.” Kuai used his knees to lift himself up slightly, before allowing himself to drop down again. Hanzo moaned and bucked up into him. “I wouldn’t mind if someone was jealous but agreed to work through it. I mean, at the end of the day, my clients are just clients, they aren’t my dom.” Kuai rolled his hips, whining as the cock inside him brushed against his prostate. “Client’s come and go, but a dom is a constant.”

“That’s-“ Hanzo cut himself off with a groan as Kuai lifted himself up and down again. “That’s actually a poetic way of phrasing it.” He bared his teeth as he began to thrust upwards in a steady rhythm, Kuai lifting himself so that they met halfway. “When you put it like that, I think I could be in a relationship like that. At the end of the day, as long as a sub returned home to me, I would support anything they wanted to do.”

“You’re one of the good ones,” Kuai commented, throwing his head back and closing his eyes, focusing on making Hanzo’s pleasure as high as possible. The grunts and groans were telling. Hanzo’s technique was good too, and from feeling how many times he tried to aim for Kuai’s sweet spot, he was clearly not being selfish when it came to pleasure.

“Gods, you’re the good one,” Hanzo groaned, his grip on Kuai’s hips tightening as he began to pick up his pace. “Fuck, you’re so good for me.”

Kuai squeaked slightly. His praise kink was a little known secret he tried not to advertise lest people take advantage of it. When Kuai looked down to see if Hanzo noticed, his eyes were wide, although as shocked as he was, his hips continued to thrust and Kuai bounced on his cock.

“Do you like that? Being told how good you are?” Hanzo questioned, Kuai did not reply, just gave a needy whine. “Sh, you might be doing me a service, but your enjoyment is important too. You are being such a good boy.”

“Oh fuck,” Kuai groaned, letting his hips drop particularly hard and practically seeing stars as Hanzo’s cock slammed into him. “My one weakness,” Kuai giggled between his bounds. “Please don’t tell anyone.”

“Your secret’s safe with me,” Hanzo assured, although his eyebrows furrowed soon after. “I ah- Forgive me, it has been a while and I don’t think I will last much longer.”

“That’s fine,” Kuai replied, doubling his efforts to help Hanzo out. “I take it as a compliment.”

Hanzo laughed at that, his own hips bucking upwards with so much energy Kuai was almost left breathless. It wasn’t long of this when Kuai felt Hanzo force him down, and he let out a very loud groan. Even though with the condom on Kuai couldn’t feel it, it was very clear Hanzo had finished. When Hanzo’s grip on him loosened, Kuai gave one last roll, before finally slipping off and flipping himself to lie beside Hanzo.

He gave a surprised squark when Hanzo’s hand reached down for his cock.

“I- Sorry, I should have asked.” Hanzo let go again. “I would like to finish you off though, if that’s okay.”

Kuai blinked a few times. It wasn’t all that common for people to care that much about him orgasming. Usually if he didn’t cum along with them, they didn’t bother. Only person who made a regular habit of making sure he was done was Kenshi. He supposed birds of a feather flocked together, even if it was under a very strange circumstance.

“Sorry, it’s absolutely okay, I just wasn’t expecting it.”

Now with consent, Hanzo reached down for Kuai’s cock again, gently wrapping his hand around it. Kuai gasped as Hanzo gently began to pump his fist, taking care not to pull on the piercings. When he got to the tip, Hanzo rolled his thumb around the head and Kuai gave a loud groan. It was really amazing, how even just how good Hanzo’s hand felt to him.

It didn’t take long for Kuai to cum as well, spurting out of him and landing on his stomach. Hanzo pumped a few more times, practically milking his cum out of him.

Kuai lay still panting for breath, as Hanzo began to remove the cuffs. Kuai couldn’t help but grin.

“So, how was it?” Kuai asked, curious about Hanzo’s review.

“Amazing,” Hanzo stated with a smile. “I know we’ve only had one session, but I’m already feeling bolder.” Good. It was amazing, how sometimes a good fuck was what someone needed. “So bold, I was wondering… Uh. Well.” Hanzo cleared his throat. “For our next session, I was wondering if I could… take you to dinner?” Hanzo’s eyes widened as his said that and he shook his head. “A-As practise of course, just to get used to the dating aspect of things again too.”

Kuai Liang could tell it was more than just practise.

He generally made a rule not to date his clients. But maybe, just maybe, he could make an exception just this once.

“Practise, hm?” Kuai replied, in a tone that indicated he knew what was really being asked. Hanzo’s cheeks went slightly red at the gentle call out.

“Well- I- Ah- I suppose you have rules against dating clients.”

“Hm, yes, but I think I can make an exception for practise.” Kuai gave a toothy grin, and Hanzo looked at him with relief and anticipation. “And well, depending on how things go, I don’t have any rules about not dating ex-clients.”

The excitement on Hanzo’s face was worth it. And as Hanzo began to look to find a perfect time and date, Kuai actually felt excitement too.

And well, if Kuai happened to forget to ask for payment the next time they met, it would just him being forgetful, wouldn’t it?

#mortal kombat #subscorp #kuai liang #sub zero #hanzo hasashi #scorpion #⛓️kinktober 2022

5 notes · View notes

onecanonlife · 4 years ago

Text

careful son (you got dreamer's plans)

Wilbur was dead. Now, he is not. He can't say that he's particularly happy about it.

Unfortunately, the server is still as tumultuous as ever, even with Dream locked away, so it seems that his involvement in things isn't a matter of if, but when.

(Alternatively: the prodigal son returns, and a broken family finally begins to heal. If, that is, the egg doesn't get them all killed first.)

Chapter Word Count: 2,169

Chapter Content Warnings: swearing, c!Wilbur’s current mental state

Chapter Summary: In which Wilbur is resurrected, finds himself alone in a forest, and very much objects to this whole concept.

(masterlist w/ ao3 links)

(next chapter)

Chapter One: soldier, keep on

Wilbur gasps back to life with mud between his fingers and rain in his eyes.

It is an ugly thing, reviving like this. His body does not remember what it is to live. The sensations are overwhelming: the ground beneath him, cold and wet, the freezing air against his skin, the force of gravity that keeps him pinned down. It takes a moment for him to recall how to breathe, to even recall that he needs to do so at all, after that first instinctive inhalation. His lungs are burning, and fear washes over him, builds within him—but the memory comes. His lungs inflate. Deflate. Too quickly, at first, too shallowly, but he falls into a rhythm soon enough.

Breathing. He is breathing. He is alive. His fingers curl into the grass, the slick dirt, and he shudders at the feeling. He thinks he might shake apart right here, right now, shake apart and back to death again.

He doesn’t want to be here.

His mind is fuzzy, whirling, confused, and his thoughts are so much scattered snow, but this much he knows. He does not want to be alive, does not want to be here, does not want this—

But since when has he had a choice in the matter?

Sitting up is slow. Strange. It takes more effort than it should, and it sets his head to spinning as he blinks the water from his eyes. His vision clears enough to see where he is: a forest, not too dense, the trees sparsely placed. He is sitting beneath one, and as if to reward the realization, the leaves jerk in a sudden wind, dumping several large drops of water on his head. He frowns up at them, and at the grey sky beyond. And then has to look down again—there is more rain in his eyes, and the sting of it is unpleasant, too sharp. Every sensation feels like too much, too present and too raw and too close.

He should stand, he thinks. But he stares at his legs, and wonders if they will hold his weight. They don’t look as if they will. They are shaking. His whole body is shaking, shaking apart and back to—

(you could only be so lucky)

He stands. He lurches to the side, at first, has to grip the tree for balance as his legs adjust to holding him up. His head pounds, spins, and he squeezes his eyes shut against the wave of vertigo.

And then opens them.

The laughter comes unbidden, welling up from somewhere dark, somewhere despairing. It echoes in his ears until it’s all that he can hear, all that he knows, curling around him, manic and wild. It is a villain’s laugh. A villain’s laugh for a villain, a villain with blood caking his hands and madness pressing on the edges of his mind

(is it progress, that he can recognize it now?)

(but is it madness? or is it just him? what is real, the brother that he used to be, or the shattered, destructive thing that he became? can he blame his actions on madness when he enjoyed every moment?)

and now a heart pumping in his chest, alive, alive, alive. Alive, when he never wanted it, when he explicitly told Tommy not to—

Not to what? To bring him back? Tommy wanted him, but Dream is the one with the power, or so Tommy said. Dream, alive just like him, when he has no right to be. A villain just like him, but not, but worse

(who do you think you’re fooling? how much of Tommy’s pain can be laid at your feet?)

for all that he’s done. To Tommy, to everyone on the server, even to those who once counted him as a friend.

(He was one, wasn’t he? In the early days, in the peaceful days, before the war? They were all friends, then, when Dream invited them to his world, invited them to make a home and to stay, and he really thought that he could settle here, with his little brother and with everyone else. He was friends with Dream, then.)

(The war was a game, in the beginning. He can’t pinpoint the moment when that changed.)

And perhaps Tommy forced the issue, forced the resurrection. But Dream still made the choice to do it. In the end, he is back at Dream’s behest and at no one else’s, and anger stirs in him, that he is in any way beholden to that bastard, to the asshole who caused so much pain, so much suffering, who tormented and abused his little brother

(but you did the same, don’t forget)

to the point of—

He is not Ghostbur. Not in any way that matters, just like Ghostbur wasn’t truly him. But he remembers what Ghostbur knew, more or less, and more than that, he understands in a way that Ghostbur was never capable of. In a way, part of him envies Ghostbur his naivety. Most of him doesn’t, though, isn’t capable of anything more than a vague disgust at best. Naivety helps no one, does nothing. The naive either learn better, or they die. That’s the way the world works, has always been the way that the world works.

The point is, he has perspective that Ghostbur didn’t. He knows what Dream did. What he’ll do again, if given the chance, and he will have that chance. Tommy’s decision to spare him has guaranteed as much. Even the most inescapable prison cannot hold someone like Dream forever.

He forms a fist. Punches the tree. It smarts, and finally, here is a sensation that does not overwhelm him, that is almost comforting in its familiarity, that clears his head and allows him to focus. There is solid ground beneath his feet and water dripping from his soaked hair onto his face. He is in a forest that he doesn’t recognize. His heart beats in his chest.

Alive, alive, alive.

“What the fuck have you done?” he murmurs, and his voice is a broken, frayed thing. Unsurprisingly, he receives no answer, and his mind is left to invent them, each more terrible than the last.

This much is clear, though, he needs to

(find his family)

(see Dream dead)

(blow them all to hell and back because why not, what more is there to lose)

(run run run as far and as fast as possible)

get to Tommy? Get to Tommy. Yes. That’s the first step. Get to Tommy, shake the life out of him until he owns up to whatever the hell he was thinking with this. Learn more about how he defeated Dream in the first place, because surely that will be relevant information, because surely the second step will be to kill Dream. He’s too dangerous to be kept alive, and he’s outlived his use anyway.

If Tommy truly spared him just so that he would… resurrect Wilbur, well. He’s served his purpose. There’s no reason to keep him breathing.

Even if—

Well.

He’ll think about it when the time comes.

(he doesn’t want to be here, please, let him rest, let him be free)

For now, he is here, and he has a goal, has a plan. So he takes his first step forward, and finds walking easier than he expected. His muscles seem to remember how to do it, now, and his strides grow longer and longer until he is a hair’s breadth away from running, sprinting through the trees, and his legs begin to burn, and it is a good burn, a burn that comes from simple exertion, from the revolutionary act of living, and the rain pours down and giddiness fills him, if just for a moment. If just for a moment, he thinks that perhaps this might not be such a bad thing after all.

If just for a moment.

He breaks through the tree line. And stops.

He knows where he is.

He hadn’t realized before, how cold it was. Or rather, he realized it distantly, in the manner of things that don’t quite effect him, that he acknowledges but doesn’t have to think on. But it does effect him, and as his adrenaline wears off, chills run across his body, his skin erupting in gooseflesh. He’s not dressed for this climate, is wearing the same clothes he died in, the white shirt and the trenchcoat that does little in the way of providing warmth.

But he knows where he is.

Or rather, Ghostbur did, so now he does. There is snow in the distance, about a twenty minute walk, perhaps. The border of the tundra. From there, it isn’t far to Techno’s base. Another half hour on foot, if the weather isn’t too bad.

Techno.

He hadn’t even thought to go see him. Hadn’t spared a thought for his other brother, or for his father, who he knows is staying with him. But they are so close, right there, and his objective is to get to Tommy, but

(he wants to see them, wants them so bad, wants his brother’s protective glare and his father’s warm embrace)

he doesn’t know where Tommy is, does he? He has a general idea, but no more than that, and even besides, he doesn’t know anything about the current politics of the server, other than the fact that Dream is locked away. Who does that leave in charge, if anyone? Who is on whose side? What sides are left at all?

He needs more information. Techno isn’t likely to be in the loop, all things considered, but even a little bit of intelligence would be better than no intelligence at all. And he’s closer. A warm house sounds very nice right now.

He considers his objectives, and makes a mental readjustment. Tommy can be second, Dream third. That’s fine. Techno first.

If, that is, Techno allows him in. If he doesn’t slam the door on his face. If he doesn’t kill him again. He liked Ghostbur, Wilbur thinks, but Ghostbur was Ghostbur, and he is himself, and he doesn’t know where they stood with each other, by the end. Doesn’t know whether Techno will be glad to see him at all. That shouldn’t matter to him, though. It shouldn’t matter at all what Techno thinks of him,

(even if something in him balks at the idea that Techno might hate him, that Techno, his brother who he has protected and pestered in equal measure, who has done the same for him since the day Phil took his hand and brought him home and said to the piglin hybrid waiting at the door, Techno, this is your new brother Wilbur, please don’t kill each other)

since he has his goals, and those are what’s important. So really, if Techno turns him away, he’s no worse off, if a little colder and wetter. He goes back to the original plan of getting to Tommy, killing Dream. In that order.

Right. Right.

This will work.

It will be several hours of walking through the cold. Best to start now. So he does, walking at a steady pace, aiming for the snow, and—

Something blue.

Something blue flashes in the corner of his eye, and he freezes, wheels around, his heart pounding in his ears. His eyes dart around, but there is nothing there, nothing that he can see. No movement in the trees behind him. No movement in the grass around him. No movement in the snowy climate ahead. No movement, but then, that doesn’t mean that nothing is there, that he didn’t see anything at all,

(because it’s not paranoia if they’re really out to get you)

and he’s certain that he did. That he saw blue.

Blue has strange connotations for him, now. He’s not Ghostbur. But Ghostbur’s memories linger.

“Who’s there?” he calls out, and is proud of the way his voice holds steady. There is no reply, and still no movement. “You can come out, if you want to talk. I’m unarmed,” he adds, and immediately regrets it. If there is someone there, there is a good likelihood that they mean him harm. He didn’t exactly… leave on a good note, and advertising his lack of a weapon to someone who might very well want to kill him is not a good idea.

But nothing happens either way. No one steps out from behind a tree to talk. No one jumps out and tries to stab him. He waits for a few minutes before admitting defeat and turning back to his path.

Perhaps he imagined it. It wouldn’t be the strangest thing that’s ever happened to him.

(but he didn’t, he knows he didn’t, and he’s pretty sure that there’s something he’s forgetting)

He’ll be alert. Careful. Watchful. It’s all he can do at this point.

So, with a heart beating in his chest and lungs that breathe and feet that touch the ground, Wilbur goes off to find his brother.

---------

As a note, I’m new to writing for this fandom, so while I don’t have a taglist for it yet, I’m happy to make one if anyone would like, so feel free to ask!

#mcyt #dsmp #dream smp #dsmp fic #wilbur soot #wilbur dsmp #alivebur #/rp #cat writes fic #long post #here we go :)

39 notes · View notes

toggle1-mrfipp · 4 years ago

Text

Fipp: This is just a crackship fic, nothing more.

Also, let's assume this takes place in an AU where things went better than they did in canon.

Schnee Sibling Brunch

Whitley has brunch with Weiss and Winter to better reconnect. Winter has a stroke. (Qrow/Willow Jaune/Winter crackship)

Among other things, Whitley had to admit that this was... nice. Yes, nice, that seemed like the proper way to refer to how the relationship between him and his sisters had developed recently. Much of the animosity had faded away and allowed them to grow a better and healthier interactions with one another, though they had yet to reach that stage and seemed to be in this awkward phases where none of them knew exactly how to talk to one another.

Or maybe it was just him. Weiss and Winter seemed to talk easily to each other well enough, and while he could have conversations with Weiss, with some struggle, talk between him and Winter was of a much more difficult manner, since neither one of them seemed to really know where to start there.

Hopefully these brunches Klein had suggested should help, having the three of them get together every once and awhile to talk about their weeks and breaks some ice between them. It could work, he thought, after all there were only three of them here, and in his experiences, more than three members of his family tended to end in arguments and yelling.

On the table, Weiss' scroll buzzed, slightly moving as it vibrated, while she gave an annoyed huff and chose to ignore it. That in itself isn't anything noteworthy, but what was that this was not the first time this had happened, and it had been going off nearly every minute since they sat down to eat.

“Aren't you going to answer that?” Winter asked, having taken a sip of her tea.

“It's only Ruby,” Weiss said with a roll of her eyes.

“Ruby? Whitley asked.

“Yes, Ruby. She's one of my teammates, you've met her before.”

Whitely tried to think of the faces of Weiss' friends, but while he knew what they looked liked, he couldn't say he ever got their names. “The one with the arm?” he tried.

“No, that's Yang. She's the one in the red hood.”

Oh yes, the one who crashed the sandwich tray last week. Wait...

“So the one named Ruby Rose is the one in the red cape?”

“Yes, what about it?”

“Doesn't that seem a bit on the nose?”

Weiss Schnee picked up her snowy-colored napkin and laid it across her lap, to protect her white dress from any stains or spills. “Of course not.”

“What does she keeping texting you about?” Winter asked.

“Well...” Weiss said, only to pause, looking as though she was not certain how to explain herself. “Okay, so you two know about the recent... situation with our parents, correct?”

A heavy tension suddenly appeared over the table, and Whitley felt his appetite vanish.. Everything between his father and mother, his father in particular, filled with him complicated feeling and emotions that he didn't know how to place or work through. So the best course of actions on dealing with them was to ignore them and hope that they somehow worked themselves out when he's not paying attention to them. Yes, that seemed like a good idea.

“Well, as we both know, Mom recently took up to dating again and-”

Winter made a gagging noise.

“Could we not talk about that please?” Winter said, putting a fist to her mouth, her skin taking on a slightly green complexion to it.

“Yes, I feel like there are other things we can talk about,” Whitley added, wishing the subject could be about anything else than this. The thousands of square miles of barren icy desert outside the city would be a more interesting thing to talk about in his opinion.

“Are you going to do that every time someone brings up Qrow?” Weiss asked, glaring at Winter. “I would think you would be a bit more mature about this, at least more so than Whitley”

Yes, Qrow. That ragged-looking man. Whitley didn't care for him.

Wait.

“What do you mean more mature than me?” Whitley asked, staring daggers at Weiss, who only seemed to grow in annoyance with her sibling.

“Okay, listen,” Winter said, interrupting anything Weiss could have said to defend herself. “I'm happy for Mom wanting to move on, I really am, and while she would have to dig through the bottom of the barrel worst than Jacques, there are still plenty of options better than Qrow Branwen!”

“You're over exaggerating,” Weiss said, taking a sip of her coffee.

“I am not! He is an uncouth, vulgar, vagabond! Every encounter I have had with the man has ended with me wanting to stab him in the throat!”

“That's a bit violent, don't you think.”

“Also! He's a drunk! That's the last thing Mom needs right now!”

“Actually, Ruby told me Qrow hasn't had a single drop since we got to Atlas, and Yang says that he wants to take her to one of the meetings he's been going to.”

“Weiss, while Winter and I have some obvious reservations about Mother and Qrow being... together.” Again, Winter gagged, harsher this time, like she was fighting to keep her food down. “Why don't you seem to bothered by this prospect?”

“Because unlike you two, I can be a mature adult when it comes to such matters.”

“Right,” Winter said, barely under her breath, like she was trying to hide her comment, but didn't want to do it very well.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Weiss shot back.

“You know what.”

Whitley sighed, feeling a headache coming on. “So anyway, the texts from Ruby, what does that have to do with Mother and Qrow?” Winter heaved again.

With a sigh, Weiss picked up her scroll and began to flick her thumb across the screen. “Every since they started dating-” hruk “Ruby has gotten a bit to exuberant over the idea of them together, the point where she has completely gotten ahead of herself and wants them to get married so we can be cousins.”

Winter dropped her spoon, and with sluggish movement pushed her omelet to the center of the table. “I'm done, I can't stomach anything else right now.”

To a degree, he shared the sentiment.

Weiss continued, ignoring Winter. “For the last week she has much of sent me more than a hundred texts, about things like Cousin Activities, and Cousin Weekends, and has even gone as far as to threaten me with matching t-shirts.” With a sigh Weiss continued to scroll through the long list of messages she seemed to have been sent. “There's even something here about-wait, what?”

“Is something the matter?”

“Yeah, for some reason she's talking about Jaune being my brother-in-law? What?”

“Seriously? This again?” Winter groaned.

“Jaune?” Whitley asked.

“He's the blond guy with the sword.”

Oh yes, the one who knocked over the drink tray last week.

“The one with the bad haircut.”

“It's not a bad haircut, I rather like it.” Winter continued. “A while ago, he and I were on a team to eliminate a grimm that had been stalking an outpost in the tundra. A Krampus to be precise.”

A Krampus? Oh yes, their grandfather had first gotten his name as a Hunstman for killing a particularity dangerous one that had been known to target the children of Mantle when he was a young man.

“Well we were separated from the rest of the team and ended up fighting it on our own, and while he had several close calls in the end we managed to kill it.

“So can you summon it now?”

“No, Jaune got the killing blow on it. Anyway, the weather had gotten so bad by that point and turned into a blizzard, we were forced to take shelter in a way-station until it had subsided. We spent a couple of hours together alone and well, he's not half bad.”

“So you're dating him then?”

“I suppose,” Winter said, averting her eyes while a slight red came across her cheeks.

“Wait, you're dating someone?” Weiss asked, and Whitley could only look on in confusion why already Winter was looking frustrated. “Since when?”

“I don't understand, what's going on?” he asked.

Winter could only groan, dragging a hand across her face before she looked Weiss hard in the eyes. “Weiss.”

“Yes?”

“Me, Winter.”

“Okay?”

“And Jaune, your friend.”

“What about him?”

“We. Are. Dating.”

For several seconds, Weiss had this odd look on her face, like she was trying to figure out a difficult puzzle that kept cheating without her knowing. “I don't understand.”

“See!” Winter cried out. “She's been like this whole time! It's like she's physically incapable of comprehending that I am dating Jaune!”

“Who is dating Jaune?” Weiss asked, clueless.

“Me! Weiss! I am dating Jaune! We have gone on three dates so far. Just last night, we spent an hour walking around the mall downtown. We had ice cream and then made out.”

“Okay, you're saying a lot of words that I individually understand, but the order you are saying them just doesn't seem right to me. Winter, are you having a stroke?”

“No I am not having a stroke!”

“Wait,” Whitley said after a thought. “You're dating? Since when do you have time for a social life?”

“Shut up,” Winter snapped. “Also, just what the hell does Ruby mean by 'brother-in-law'? We are not getting married! Marriage isn't even on the table yet!”

“Yet?”

“Shut up again!” She turned back to Weiss. “First of all, you're friend is way over the line here, and she-”

Suddenly, Winter frozen, her words and anger dying as quickly as they had come, and her expression had shifted into something akin to fear from an unwelcome realization.

“Winter?” Weiss asked, and Whitley contemplated poking her with a fork.

Winter next words came out weary, and defeated. “I just recalled some insults Qrow once threw at me regarding our mother, and it occurred to me he could actually carry some of those out.” Without explanation, not that he felt that such a thing were needed, Winter pushed her chair out and slowly made her way to the door, her forming retreating into the hallway beyond.

“Is she going to be okay?” he asked.

“Why wouldn't she be?” Weiss said, reaching forward to take Winter's small bowl of melon slices.

There was then a loud, and muffled scream of anguish from down the hall.

“Right...” Whitley then took the remains of Winter's omelet, knowing she would not return for it.

000

Please be well,

Mrfipp

#rwby #weiss schnee #winter schnee #whitley schnee #jaune arc #qrow branwen #willow schnee #fanfic #fanfiction

17 notes · View notes

imanativeofswlondondahling · 4 years ago

Text

Becoming A Stark? (28)- Peter Parker x Stark!femReader

Word Count: 3395

Warnings: swearing, IW emotional trauma, the usual.

Author Note: There is some dialog from Infinity War used in this chapter. I don’t own it, but also there’s new stuff after it so don’t skip it. This is the final chapter. There will be a sequel that I’m not sure when will be posted but it will be coming. If you want to be tagged when it’s posted, let me know! Thank you for reading all of this and giving me so much love on my fist PP story. Let me know what you think of the finale.

Chapter One || Previous Chapter || Master List

“Mom have you seen my jacket?” You ask as you walk from the living room back into the kitchen. You’re already dressed in ripped jeans, galaxy converse, and a grey AC/DC shirt.

“Which jacket?” Pepper asks as she stirs the eggs she’s cooking for you.

“My denim one? I wore it yesterday? Or maybe it was the day before?”

“Have you checked your room?”

“I looked there when I was getting ready. I didn’t see it.” Instead of being dressed for the office, Pepper is wearing running gear. “Are you going into the office today?”

“In a little bit. Your dad wants to go to the park for a run first.”

“Dad running? Since when?”

“I think your birthday is making him feel O-L-D.” Pepper teases as Tony walks down the stairs.

“I can still spell even if I’m getting old.” Tony responds. In his hand he’s holding your Rolling Stones jacket. “You left this on the stairs kiddo.”

“Oh, right! I meant to take it up last night.” You shrug it over your shoulders before sitting down at the food that Pepper made for you.

“What’s with the pep in your step today?”

“Field trip. I don’t have to be at school today.”

“Field trip?” Your dad asks as he sits down next to you. “Where to?”

“MoMA. My art class is going.”

“Ah so you and the young Parker are getting out of school to go look at art. How sweet.” Your dad says with a teasing tone remembering how Peter ended up in your art class after switching in in the second six weeks. “With how much it cost for you to go to that school, I would think you would spend more time at school than on field trips.”

“It’s educational. I promise.”

“Sure it is.”

“What your dad is trying to say is have fun.” Pepper says with a laugh. “He and I are going to go so can you lock up when you leave with Happy?” You nod. “Perfect. Have fun, love you, see you after school.”

“Love you kiddo.” Your dad kisses the top of your head. Pepper places a kiss behind him. You munch on your toast as they walk towards the door. Today should be a fairly normal day, apart from the field trip.

“Slow down, slow down. I’ll spell it out for you.” Tony tries to get Pepper to listen as he tries to explain his dream from last night while they walk through the park together.

“You’re totally rambling.”

“No I’m not.” Tony throws back in his own defense.

“You lost me.”

“Look, you know how you’re having a dream, and in the dream you gotta pee.” Tony ties his jacket around his shoulders as he says this.

“Yeah.”

“Okay. And then you’re like ‘Oh my God. There’s no bathrooms. What am I gonna do? Oh, someone’s watching.’”

“Right.”

“‘Oh, I’m gonna go in my pants.’”

“And then you wake up and in real life you actually have to pee.” Pepper catches his drift.

“Yes.” Tony’s hand waves in agreement.

“Yeah. Everybody has that.”

“Right that’s the point I’m trying to make. Apropos of that, last night I dreamt we had a kid.”

“We have a kid. Y/N.” Pepper points out with a smile.

“No like a baby.” Tony explains. “It was so real. We named him after your eccentric uncle. Uh what was his name? Morgan! Morgan.”

“Right. So when you woke up…”

“Naturally.”

“...and thought we were…”

“Expecting.”

“Yeah.”

“Yes?”

“No.” Pepper smiles at him as she says it.

“I had a dream about it. It was so real.”

“If you wanted to have another kid, you wouldn’t have done that.” Pepper unties the sweater and taps on the nanoparticle home.

“I’m glad you brought this up, ‘cause it’s nothing. It’s just a housing unit for nanoparticles.”

“You’re not helping your case, okay?”

“No, this is detachable. It’s not a…”

“You don’t need that. Y/N didn’t need you to get that. I didn’t need you to get that. Your family needs you to put them first sometimes ok?”

“I know. I had the surgery. I’m just trying to protect us and future usses and that’s it. Just in case there’s a monster in the closet. Instead of, you know…”

“Shirts.”

“You know me so well.”

“God.”

“You finish all my sentences.”

“You should have shirts in your closet.”

“Yeah, you know what there should be? No more surprises. We’re going to have a nice dinner tonight. Hear all about Y/N’s field trip. Show off this Harry Winston. Right?” Pepper chuckles at his antics. “And we should have no more surprises. Ever. I should promise you.”

“Yes.”

“I will.” Tony leans in to kiss Pepper. “Thank you.”

“Tony Stark?” Pepper pulls away at the sound of someone calling Tony’s name. Tony on the other hand can only roll his eyes because this was exactly the kind of thing he was talking about. “I’m Doctor Stephen Strange. I need you to come with me.” Pepper grabs Tony’s hand at this. “Oh and uh congratulations on the wedding, by the way.”

“I’m sorry, are you giving out tickets to something?”

“We need your help. It’s not overselling it to say that the fate of the universe is at stake.”

“And who’s we?”

“Hey Tony.” Bruce appears by Stephen’s side, shocking both Tony and Pepper after so much time without him.

“Bruce.”

“Pepper.”

“Hi.”

“Oh.”

“Are you ok?” Tony asks as Bruce falls into hugging him. What has happened while he was away?

“Ready for this field trip?” Peter asks as he sits down next to you on the bus.

“I’m always ready. Getting out of school for the day? Hell yeah.” You nudge your boyfriend’s shoulder. “Are you ready to see MoMA?”

“I guess so. I haven’t been since Ben died so…” Peter trails off.

“Babe, you haven’t been to MoMA since then? Why?”

“Ben really liked seeing the new exhibits and he would take me with him when he went. It just felt wrong to go without him.” Peter explains as the bus takes off from MSST and heads towards MoMA. “But there’s a first time to do stuff since you lose people I guess.”

“It’s going to be fine. I’ll be with you the whole time.” You say as you take his hand in yours. Peter leans forward on the seat in front of you so he can look in your direction.

“Well that will make everything better.” Suddenly the hairs on Peter’s arm stand straight up.

“What?”

“Something’s wrong.” Peter mumbles. “Spidey senses are off the wall.” His voice is no louder than a whisper.

“Something like a giant donut spaceship floating over NYC seem off enough?” You say pointing towards the window beside him. He turns to look and the recognition on his face tells you all you need to know. Looks like Peter may not be on the field trip after all.

“Can you and Ned create a distraction?”

“Of course. But you’ll be safe?”

“Always am.” He kisses you on the lips really quick before you tap Ned on the shoulder. Ned spins around to look at you.

“Guy in the chair needs to distract everyone with me.” You say quickly, but as Ned turns he sees the ship out the window.

“Holy shit.” He then turns towards the back of the bus and yells, “We’re all gonna die! There’s a spaceship!” You follow him towards the back of the bus as people start calling out asking what’s going on. But your eyes catch Peter’s one more time before he opens the emergency exit window with his web shooter. While everyone else is watching the spaceship, your eyes are trailing out the back of the bus as Peter jumps off the bridge. You know he’ll web himself to safety, but it makes your stomach fall to your toes every time.

Peter swings into the park where he sees a big angry alien… if he had to guess, swinging a sword/ax at Tony. So he does the one thing he knows how to do, he grabs it. “Hey man. What’s up Mr. Stark?”

“Kid where did you come from?”

“Field trip, to MoMA.” Peter screams as he’s thrown in the other direction. “Uh what is this guy’s problem Mr. Stark?”

“Uh he’s from space. He came here to steal a necklace from a wizard.” As the alien throws cars around and Tony tries to laser him, Peter webs the car and swings it back at the alien. Which might just make him more angry, but that’s half the fun. Right as the alien swings his ax down again, a red object zooms by. “Kid that’s the wizard, get on it.”

“On it!” Swinging across New York, he finally grabs the wizard when a blue light grabs the wizard and pulls them both up towards the sky. “Uh, Mr. Stark, I’m being beamed up.”

“Hang on kid!” Wong traps the alien in an icy tundra, slicing off the hand that reaches up towards them. “Wong you’re invited to my wedding.” Tony shouts before jetting off to rescue his daughter’s boyfriend, who happens to be climbing up the side of the alien spaceship. “Give me a little juice FRIDAY. Unlock 17:A.” His boots morph together to form one big foot thruster. “Pete you gotta let go. I’m gonna catch you.” He says over the comms to Peter.

“But you said save the wizard.” Peter pulls his mask off as he says, “I can’t breathe.”

“We’re too high up. You’re running out of air.” If your boyfriend dies in space, you might kill your dad, so he’s going to do everything he can to save the kid.

“Yeah, that makes sense.” Peter’s hands slip from the ship as he runs out of air. But the Iron Spider suit Tony had been working on arrives just in time to grab hold of Peter and save him from falling back to Earth. Instead he just hits the ship a time or two before having air to breathe again. Peter grabs a hold of the ship and stands back up. “Mr. Stark, it smells like a new car in here!”

“Happy trails, kid. FRIDAY send him home.”

“Yep.” A parachute deploys and pulls Peter off the ship.

“Oh come on!” As Tony cuts into the side of the ship, FRIDAY alerts him of something else.

“Boss incoming call from Miss Potts.”

“Tony are you alright? What’s going on?”

“Yeah I’m fine. I just think we might have to push our 8:30 res.”

“Why?”

“Just ‘cause I’ll probably not make it back for a while.”

“Tell me you’re not on that ship.”

“Yeah.”

“God, no, please tell me you’re not on the ship.”

“Honey, I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I don’t know what to say.”

“Come back here Tony. I swear to God. I will take Y/N and I will leave for good. No more surprises. You promised.”

“Pep.”

“Come back here right now.” Static starts to crackle. “Come back.”

“Boss we’re losing her.”

“I’m going too…” Pepper’s voice breaks off as the call drops. While Tony is dealing with this call, Peter is climbing up his webs, back onto the ship he had been told not to be on.

All he can mutter is “I should have stayed on the bus,” as the doors shut on the ship.

The ship is no longer in the sky. You watched it fly away. But you don’t know if that’s a good thing or not, because now you can’t get a hold of your dad or Peter. So you call the one person who has always had to be in the same position as you- you call your mom.

“Y/N? Are you ok?”

“Mom tell me Dad didn’t do something stupid and get on that ship.” Your school group is starting to walk into the first exhibit hall, but you need reassurance right now, not art pieces. Pepper doesn’t say anything for a moment, trying to figure out how to tell you that your dad is on that ship. “He’s on that ship isn’t he?”

“Yeah.”

“Why? Why would he be stupid enough to get on an alien space ship?”

“Because he’s stupid enough to think that saving the world falls on his shoulders and his alone.”

“I think Peter might have been stupid enough to think that too.” You say as soon as you know your class is out of hearing range.

“What?”

“I’ve tried calling him and he’s not picking up.”

“I thought he was on the field trip with you?”

“He was until he saw an alien ship in the sky. Then he decided that he needed to be a superhero. And now he won’t pick up the phone and he always picks up the phone, even when he’s in his suit.” You voice the concerns you’re having. “And my calls to Dad aren’t going through either which makes me think that Peter is with him.”

“He wouldn’t be stupid enough to take a fifteen year old with him on a space ship.” Pepper tries to reassure you.

“But just because he doesn’t take Peter doesn’t mean that Peter isn’t stupid enough to follow him.”

“Sounds like we both need to date smarter men.”

“They’re book smart. I’m just not sure if they’re life smart.”

“I think I’d agree with that.”

“But we also love them too much to let them go.”

“That’s also true.” Pepper doesn’t comment on the fact that you just admitted that you love Peter. “But I also know that your dad will do anything to keep Peter safe if he’s with him. So you just focus on your school trip and at the end of the day, they’ll all come home safe.” Pepper’s promise doesn’t hold much truth to it, but you know your mom is trying to calm you more than anything. “I’m going to send Happy to pick you up from the museum and bring you to SI.”

“Right now?”

“No, but he’ll be there to pick you up when everyone heads back to school.”

“That’s not necessary. I’ll just head back to school and then he can pick me up from school. But Mom, if you hear from Dad, can you tell him I love him?”

“He knows you love him.”

“But I didn’t say it to him this morning and if something happens to him…” You feel the tears welling in your eyes.

“Nothing is going to happen to him. He knows you love him.”

“You don’t know that. Every time he walks out the door to play Avenger, he could leave and not come back. He could die out there today. And I couldn’t take the two seconds it would have taken to tell him I loved him this morning.” The tears drizzle down your face as you mutter the words you feel in your soul. Out of the corner of your eye you see Ned waiting by the door leading to the next exhibit area. You wipe the tears from your cheeks. “So just if you hear from him tell him ok, Mom?”

“I will. Now just for now, don’t think about all of this. Just focus on the field trip and I’ll see you after it ok? Everything is going to be ok.”

“Mom? I love you.”

“I love you too Y/N. So much.” You hang up the phone and Ned walks over.

“Everything alright?”

“No, but the universe doesn’t usually ask me before it makes it’s decisions.”

“Have you heard from Peter?” You shake your head.

“I can’t get a hold of him or my dad. My mom said my dad is on that donut that flew out of the sky, which makes me think if I can’t get a hold of Peter…”

“He’s on it too.” Ned finishes your thought. “Peter’s in space with Iron Man. That’s so cool.” Ned mumbles but then sees your face. “Ok, not the point right now. What’s our plan?”

“We don’t have one. We’re not Avengers. We just wait around until the rest of them hopefully show up.” And you do what you hope is the next best step, you text your aunt- SOS.

N:Don’t worry. Avengers are on it. Focus on school.

Why does everyone think you’ll be able to focus on anything when your dad and boyfriend disappeared on an alien spaceship?

Y:you all think i’m going to be able to focus on learning when my dad and boyfriend have just gone missing? that’s the stupidest thing i’ve ever heard of coming from two of the smartest women i know.

N:I’m not saying it’s going to be easy, but this isn’t on your shoulders. The Avengers will take care of this fight. I promise you, we’ll get them back. Anyway we have to.

“Anything?” Ned asks quietly, as your tour guide goes on pointing out different pieces of art. You shake your head.

“Apparently it’s an Avenger problem, not a me problem, according to Aunt Nat.”

“It’s still cool that you can just text Avengers.”

“Ned, my dad is literally an Avenger. It loses the coolness factor when your dad leaves on missions and you don’t know if he’ll come back alive or not.”

“That’s true I guess.” He looks at the art piece next to you. “But still you get to text the Black Widow! Isn’t that cool?”

“She’s just my Aunt Nat. I’ve hung out with her watching horror movies and talking about crushes. It feels different than saying I text the Black Widow.” You glance over at the statue, trying to take it in so you can write your report when you get home.

“They could have tried to put at least one blemish on it.” MJ mutters and you nod in agreement.

“Uh, Y/N?”

“Ned?” You turn from MJ to see Ned staring at his hand. It’s turning to dust in front of his eyes. “Ned, what’s happening?”

“I think something’s wrong.” His other hand starts to turn into dust and you don’t understand.

“What is happening?”

“Something that can’t be good.” MJ says and you turn to see her hands turning to dust as well. “Y/N, something is wrong. Really wrong.” Your friends are turning to dust in front of your eyes. You can’t stop it, you can’t figure out what’s wrong. So you do the one thing you know to do when something is wrong- you call your mom.

“Y/N? Please tell me you’re not turning to dust too?”

“Mom, I don’t get what’s happening.”

“I don’t know either. But something isn’t right.” Your mom sounds stressed and worried at the same time you lift a hand to run through your hair and that’s when you see it. Your hand is disappearing before your eyes.

“Mom. Mom, I’m scared. My hand, it’s going.”

“Y/N, everything is going to be alright. It’s going to be ok.” Pepper doesn’t tell you that she has tears streaming down her cheeks. She needs to stay calm for you. You’re the one fading into nothing. She can stay calm for you in this moment.

“Mom, Mom. I don’t want to go. Please. I don’t know what’s happening. Mom, please make it stop.” Pepper closes her eyes as she listens to your pleads.

“It’s going to be alright sweetheart. Everything is going to be ok.” You watch in horror as Ned fades into nothing but a pile of dust.

“Mom, Ned’s gone. MJ’s seconds away from going. I don’t want to go too. Please make it stop.”

“Everything is going to be alright baby. Just breathe. Everything is going to be ok.” Pepper lies to you.

“Mom, I love you. Tell Dad I love him too. I don’t want to go. Tell him that. I never wanted to go. Having you two as parents was the best thing that ever happened to me.” Your eyes look in horror as MJ turns into dust too.

“We feel the same about you.”

“I love you. I love you so much Mom. I’m sorry. I don’t want to go. I love you.”

“We love you too.” Pepper knows she only has seconds left with you so she wants to make sure you know this before it’s too late.

“I love yo-”

Permanent tag list: @wormonastringonastick

Becoming A Stark Tag list: @persephonehemingway @iamaunicorn4704 @furiouspockettoad @daughter-of-stark @eternalharry @huntective-kyeo @riiis-stuff @sunnyoongles @cosmicqueenieb @sovereignparker @bbarnestan @teenwishes08 @iamthescarlettwitch @skyfallstilinski @cutie1365 @a-mnd @youarethereasonimsmiling @thefemalestorywriter

51 notes · View notes

supercasey · 4 years ago

Text

TMA PMV Idea “The Dreamland Archives”

Fuck it, TMA ended so now I’m gonna post my draft sheet for a PMV I desperately wish to make, but don’t have the skills to do so. If anyone wants to use it, go ahead, but I’d like to at least know about it beforehand because I am INVESTED in this idea. (Spoilers for seasons 1-4)

(Credits/intro plays before the vocals begin)

Song: Dreamland by Glass Animals

All characters belong to Rusty Quill

*Insert list of PMV participants*

Supertheodore presents: The Dreamland Archives

Pullin' down backstreets, deep in your head [Camera is focused on the door to the archives, which opens by itself after the word “backstreets”] Slippin' through dreamland like a tourist [Camera shows the archives empty, and then filled with all of Jon's assistants after the word “dreamland” (including OG!Sasha, though her and Tim appear to be ghosts), all of them appearing happy and hard at work] Pullin' down backstreets, deep in your head [A photograph of Jon with all of the S1 assistants + Elias, everyone smiling; after the word “backstreets” it’s the S3 crew, everyone appearing upset/angry, save for Jon, who’s crying and covering his face with his hands, and Elias, who’s still smiling and has his hands on both of Jon’s shoulders] Slippin' through dreamland like a tourist [Jon is on his knees as he looks through a filing cabinet, clearly frustrated; after the word “dreamland” a ghost of Gertrude appears behind him, her arms crossed as she stands behind him, appearing disappointed]

That first friend you had, that worst thing you said [Martin is bringing a very tired Jon, who has his head in his hands, a cup of tea; Jon looks up and snaps at him after the word “had”, causing Martin to startle] That perfect moment, that last tear you shed [Tim, Martin, and even Jon are laughing at a joke that Sasha said, all three of them surrounding her desk; after the word “moment” Sasha is gone, and the others are left crying/upset] All you've done in bed, all on Memorex [Martin is alone in the archive’s storage room bed, wide awake and holding a corkscrew for dear life; after the word “bed” it cuts to Tim, who is angrily throwing a tape recorder against the nearest wall] All 'round-'round your head, all 'round-'round your head [Camera pans down from a single light-bulb to focus on Jon, who's silently crying in his office chair and surrounded by tape recorders splattered with blood (all in the shape of eyes, all staring at him)]

Pullin' down backstreets, deep in your head [Jon is traveling the tunnels alone as he uses a flashlight to light his way; after the word “backstreets” it's a similar shot, but now he's running for his life from Not!Sasha] Slippin’ through dreamland like a tourist [Jon is sitting in front of Jurgen Leitner as Jurgen explains what’s really going on to him; after the word “dreamland” Jurgen is bloodied up and dead, with Jon looking horrified, a bloody pipe rests on the table between them] Pullin' down backstreets, deep in your head [Martin and Tim run into Michael in the tunnels; after the word “backstreets” they find themselves in the realm of the Spiral] Slippin' through dreamland like a tourist [Martin and Tim are both shocked upon finding Jurgen Leitner's body; Tim becomes angry while Martin becomes worried after the word “dreamland”]

You've had too much of the digital love [Jon is sitting on the floor of Georgie's apartment, one hand holding a tape recorder, the other holding his head; after the word “much” the Admiral crawls into his lap, making Jon smile slightly] You want everything live, you want things you can touch [Jon is sitting across from Jude Perry at a cafe, looking nervous while she gives him a mischievous grin; after the word “live” it cuts to Jon free falling through the sky with Mike Crew, Mike seemingly unbothered by the whole thing while Jon looks terrified] Make it feel like a movie you saw in your youth [Shows the scene of Jon, at 8 years old, following his childhood bully to Mr. Spider’s house; the door opens and several spiders legs come out and take the bully after the word “movie”, leaving Jon terrified and covering his mouth to keep back a scream] Make it feel like that song that just unopened you [Camera is focused on Jon tied up and gagged in a chair as Nikola Orsinov brags into his tape recorder about having kidnapped him, her back turned to him the entire time; however, Michael and his door appear beside Jon after the word “song”, Jon looking very surprised/scared to see him] You were ten years old, holdin' hands in the classroom [Tim is helping Jon limp through the tunnels under the institute, the two of them looking pretty beat up; their holds tighten on each other after the word “old”, with Jon pressing his face into Tim’s shirt. Even though they’re scared, they still have each other’s backs] He had a gun on the first day of high school [Tim has his back to the camera and is facing a burning circus, triumphantly holding the detonation switch over his head; after the word “the” he presses it, causing the circus to explode, with Tim being lost to the explosion after the word “of”] ((This line and the one before it are the reasons why this stupid idea exists)) You want something bizarre, old conceptual cars [Helen is standing in the doorway of the Spiral, grinning at the camera; after the word "bizarre” Peter Lukas is standing at the frontmost part of the Tundra, smoking a pipe with one hand while the other is in his coat pocket] You want girls dressed in drag, you want boys with guitars [Melanie slashes at the camera with a knife, her eyes glowing red; after the word “drag” we see Gerry as ghost levitating in the air and lying on his back, his arms behind his head and a content smile on his face while Jon’s panicking right next to him (and wearing a tacky “I <3 NY” t-shirt ‘cus I said so)]

Pullin' down backstreets, deep in your head [Jon is lying in a hospital bed during his coma, fast asleep, with Elias sitting in a chair beside him, reading a statement aloud; Elias lays a hand on Jon’s forehead after the word “backstreets”] Slippin' through dreamland like a tourist [Oliver comes to visit Jon at the hospital, and is leaned over Jon (from Jon’s POV for the camera angle); after the word “dreamland” it cuts to him having his back to Jon, hands up in surrender as he faces a suspicious Georgie] Pullin' down backstreets, deep in your head [Jon looks incredibly stressed in a shot of the archives, looking around for Martin; after the word “backstreets” Martin shows up in a cloud of fog behind him, visibly sad] Slippin' through dreamland like a tourist [Jon is crawling through the Buried, looking for Daisy, who he finds as a disheveled mess after the word “dreamland”]

You see Kodachrome, you see pink and gold [Melanie is laughing while sitting on Jon’s desk facing Basira after recording a statement; after the word “Kodachrome” it’s the same scene, but her and Jon are standing up, and she’s hugging Jon before she’s about to go and blind herself] You see Mulholland glow, you see in airplane mode [Jon and Daisy are sprawled out together on the floor of the archives, listening to the Archers and laughing; after the word “glow” it’s Basira and Daisy kneeling in the same spot, Basira trying to hold onto Daisy and keep her from giving into the Hunt as she begins to change into a werewolf] All 'round-'round your head, all 'round-'round your head [Jon and Basira are interrogating Manuela about the location of the dark sun; after the first use of the word “head” it cuts to Jon seeing the dark sun with his own eyes, tears running down his face as he smiles at it] All 'round-'round your head, all 'round-'round your head [Martin and Peter are navigating the tunnels together, Martin looking frustrated while Peter smiles; after the first use of the word “head” it cuts to Martin discovering the body of Jonah Magnus, his expression one of terror]

You float in the pool where the soundtrack is canned [Jon is searching the Lonely for Martin, calling out for him through the fog; after the word “pool” a smug looking Peter appears behind him, causing Jon to jolt in surprise] You go ask your questions like, “What makes a man?” [Jon confronts Peter, screaming at him from a few feet away; after the word “like” his eyes begin to glow green, and several glowing green eyes surround him and Peter, with Peter bending forward and clutching his head in pain] Oh, it's 2020, so it's time to change that [Jon is facing Martin in the Lonely, pleading with him face to face with his hands on his cheeks; after the word “2020” Martin’s eyes light up as he finally breaks free of the Lonely’s influence] So you go make an album and call it Dreamland [Jon and Martin are seen hugging each other for dear life; after the word “album” the scene cuts to them walking out of the Lonely together, hand in hand with their backs to the camera; the camera zooms in on their hands holding onto each other at the word “Dreamland”]

((I’m open to a few changes, but I will die before I let go of the Tim & Jon scene, which lives in my brain rent free))

8 notes · View notes

timexistsnow · 4 years ago

Text

my baby (oh my pup)

Chapter 1: little baby (of mine)

Techno just wanted to make the voices happy.

Techno might have taken his retirement a little too hard. Not that he had gotten depressed or gone insane from the seclusion- no it was a little too late for that-, but perhaps he didn’t need to go so very secluded. Since the moment Phil left after helping him move, no one had come. No visitors, no assassins, no armies, no one.

It was strange, for something like this to be so easy. Maybe a little depressing. No one had stopped him. Don’t be mistaken, Techno didn’t want to have to fight his way out physically, but emotionally, nothing happened. Not that he could blame them.

Yet, here he was, in the tundra, alone. As he stared down at his notebook, Techno realized that he didn’t know what to write. There were no plans. There were no goals. Still, Techno had to do something, or he’d go even more insane. Already, the voices were demanding entertainment.

He could… give them blood. Not in the form of people or anything, but he could still make it work. The Nether always had something to fight. He had been working on his wither collection on the side, there was no better time than now to work on something so mindless. Blood it was.

His trek was short, but the swift transition from frigid to sweltering was a refresher. The pink of his ears turned red with the burn, he was always tempted to get a hat, but his crown wouldn’t work very well. What was a king without his crown.

After wandering around and taking random pathways, he came to a crimson forest. The biome always confused him, the huge pig abominations always made him feel uncomfortable. They were a reminder of how strange Techno was even to a place like the nether.

His ears, finally warmed, perked to a noise, a squeal likely from a piglin pup. He cringed at first but then a smile came to his face: Techno never liked orphans. If its parents were nearby, he could start his outing well. It was settled, time to make an orphan and then kill an orphan. Brutal, perhaps, but they were just mindless mobs and Techno was never squeamish.

Again, a squeal, this one followed by grunts of older piglins and a herd of footsteps. It would be a bloodbath.

There it was, a piglin pup… being chased. And the pup was bleeding and crying, but not for its mother in piglish like the normal ones did. This was just crying out. For anyone. The thing tripped on a shroom, falling to the nether wart ground. When a shield bashed into its snout, it didn’t get back up. The crying stopped.

“We have it, boys! The little thing will be a good subject for us, won’t you?” the villager pulled the piglet to his face, holding him by a hoof. They muzzled him, stopping the squealing. He wanted his momma and papa.

No, not again. Yes, they were mindless mobs, but Techno didn’t care at the moment, the pup needed help. The piglins- they would hurt them- they would take them and hide them away, change them into something horrific!

Sprinting what felt like a chasm of blocks, Techno pulled out his axe- he couldn’t risk the sweeping edge- and struck down each piglin until only the pup remained. They were beginning to wake up, and the tears resumed. Their eyes never opened but they could smell the blood on the axe, they thought it was their turn.

“No, no, little pup, I’m not here to hurt you,” Techno soothed the pup, sheathing his axe. With a closer look, the pup was in bad shape. They were bruised and their snout appeared to be broken with all of the blood and swelling. He… could leave it. But no, that would be wrong, even Techno had some common decency. There was no way that the pup would survive in this state in the Nether. They would have to come home, if just for the night.

The pup must have been exhausted as it only whimpered when Techno scooped it up into his arms. When they came to the portal, the pup finally came to its senses. Wretched squeals and sobs tore from their abused throat, they only cried more as blood seeped from the broken nose and onto Techno’s shirt. Techno couldn’t help but grimace, this wasn’t a good look, they probably through they were being taken away

from his straw shelter that his family had just built. He wanted home, he wanted to sleep in a nice pile of straw for the first time. He wanted his momma’s milk. But the men were dragging him further and further away. Techno couldn’t even squeal with his snout muzzled with rope. It burned against his fair skins, his soft fur tearing out.

and Techno couldn’t just let the piglin go because it would die and he could not let that happen. But it was because he should, as a decent person. So even with the crying, they had to go.

Stepping through the portal made Techno shiver, he always forgot the cold. The little bundle- oh, the little bundle definitely never even knew of the cold. They screamed out and Techno took off his cape, swaddling them up. It seemed to help a bit, little hoof-like hands snuck out the fuzzy mess to pet the red fabric. They were mesmerized by it, their little milky eyes wide in wonder, the crying reduced to sniffles. Techno smiled, at least he wasn’t the only one who appreciated his style.

He almost pulled out a pearl before thinking otherwise, the jolt might be too much for the pup. Don’t judge him for being cautious, he’d never cared for a baby, even less a piglin pup. How to begin the care, he still hadn’t worked out. Just do what you do for yourself, you’re both pigs, anyway. Techno shrugged, that seemed like better than nothing, and if the pup died, well at least he tried. That was all he could do in the end.

Once arriving at his cottage, Techno set them on the carpeted floor, still swaddled in his cloak. Luckily, he always had potions brewed, just in case (even though no one ever came), so he juggled a few healing over to their place on the blue carpet. The clunk startled the pup away from the red fabric, and they shimmied towards the door and then paused. Techno watched as they whimpered at their bare arms now exposed to the cool air of the cottage, they had left the cloak in their panic. Techno smiled and crouched down.

“You can keep this if you want- just for now. I’ve got more,” they shied away at the words, not moving from their spot. Oh, right, piglins don’t speak English. He repeated it in broken piglish, but even then, the pup just stared blankly. Instead, Techno slid his cloak across the floor. Once it touched the piglin pup’s hoof, they squealed hoarsely in joy, finally getting the message.

“There you go,” Techno reached back and unscrewed the cork and slid it to the pup, “Drink this.” A little hand unlatched from the cloak and poked the glass. Techno sighed and mimed drinking.

The crouch was wearing on him so Techno sat down cross-legged like the piglin. He might as well try to look as unthreatening as possible. When his knee bumped one of his potions, Techno debated how many he should give the pup. One would probably be enough, but with a busted snout, he wasn’t sure. Could they even drink a full one without getting sick? Techno cursed himself, he should have thought of that.

Attention going back to the pup, they were… dunking their hand in and sucking it off like honey. Okay, that wasn’t adorable, not at all. Techno was a tough anarchist, he would not be swayed by a child being stupid. At least the swelling was going down, the dark blue turning to a sickly yellow. It must not have been as bad as Techno originally thought, because it didn’t look like it needed setting.

But the blood, that was another story. They looked like they had never been groomed, definitely not bathed. Then again, there wasn’t any water to be bathed in when in the nether, but normal piglins always looked better than this. Why weren’t they groomed? Why were they cast out?

It didn’t matter now, the pup needed a clean, Techno told himself. He wasn’t even going to keep them for more than the night, there was no need for speculation. Even if he wanted to help them for a while, it would be wrong, they would lose their connection to the Nether and natural instincts for survival. At that point, he might as well put them out of their misery- no. Think of the now, not of the later.

Once the pup was done with their drink and had licked their hand… clean he scooped them up. They didn’t struggle much this time, simply snuggling down into the body heat Techno was emitting. Yeah, they definitely needed a shower, the Nether did them no favors.

With a bath running- only a few inches, keep it lukewarm (Phil used to tell Techno how to care for Tommy even if he never took care of Tommy himself) Techno undressed the pup from its ragged clothing and set them in the tub. At first, they sat still, the wetness clearly being a new sensation, but with a single tentative slap of the water, they were having fun. Techno chuckled at the childishness of the pup, he hadn’t seen something so innocent in a while. He’s not tearing up, it’s just… soft, unlike the sharp edges of L’manburg and axes and threats like he was used to.

But the pup needed bathing so there was no time for a crisis. It was an awkward process, the pup (now dubbed a girl) wasn’t the most compliant, she just wanted to play. For a minute he let her, but it got tiring and was late in the day. Techno had things to do.

After getting her freshened up and dried, he realized something: she had no clothes. The rags were still on the floor but that’s all they were: rags. The pup kicked at them, clearly having the same idea. Okay, something else it is. Going through the door of the bathroom and into his bedroom/library, Techno dug around in his chest of clothes. A bed shirt, that could do. Oh, and if he used a small sash he could tie it to be a dress, yes. The pup let him assemble her outfit, more interested in the new softness.

Techno studied his work, tapping his hoof. It was quite temporary but tomorrow he could go to the village and get some baby villager’s clothes. Another noise joined his thoughts, slightly offbeat to his tapping. The pup was tapping her hoof along him, her brow scrunched up in concentration. When he hummed a laugh at her, she shrank away, grabbing up the cloak and covering herself with it again. Oh.

The villagers laughed at his feeble attempts at wiggling out of their grasps, they poked at his fragile skin with their sticks. When the whimpering started, their laughs only became bellows. “It’s a funny little piggy isn’t it?”

Shaking his head, Techno knew he had to speed things along or the day would never end. “Okay, pup, I bet you want some food, don’t you?” The pup perked up, eyes going wide and expectant, huh, that was… strange.

His table only ever had one chair, not bothering to take up any more space than what was needed, so the pup sat and Techno stood. Food, food was a thing all creatures ate… what did piglins eat? Pig, of course, think pig. All pigs liked potatoes and carrots, and look at that, Techno was the potato guy. He didn’t have many, most of them were left at the ravine in Pogtopia, but for today, she’d be fine.

Putting a potato in his smoker, he took a moment to study the piglin pup. Again, why? It just didn’t make sense. The pup only stared back, her fidgeting getting more and more intense. He should probably stop. But the question burned into his mind-

“Stop!” she squealed. Now Techno stared, blinked- “Stop!”

The smoker beeped, and Techno jerked around. One breath in, another out. Just get the food, figure it out later. When he peaked back, the pup looked… smug. Piglins don’t do any of that. They get angry, they growl, they definitely don’t speak English and look smug. Perhaps, that would explain some of her treatment.

He pondered this as he plated her food and slid it across the table to the pup. When the pondering switched back to staring, she shrunk down again, eyes going between the potato and Techno’s gaze. “You can eat, I-” Techno wanted to ask so many questions, but, “I’ll… stop.”

She nodded and munched into the potato. Techno adverted his gaze, feeling awkward. His stomach grumbled to the sound of her eating. Instead of going for potatoes, Techno pulled out his golden carrots, setting a few on the table. At the sound of the clunk, the pup oinked around a mouthful. One of her hands released the potato and made grabby hands at the carrot. Oh, gold of course. But, then she would want more, Techno reasoned.

Another oink, sounding more like a piglet than a fierce piglin pup. Techno sighed and scratched through the fur at the back of his head: she was really cute. Damnit. He didn’t even need the voices to know that.

Oink, oink.

“Okay, fine, finish the potato and I’ll give you one,” he caved. She was just so… precious. Techno let out a whimper, she was smiling again, with that stupid smug look.

She began her munching again, all hesitance gone. Techno joined her, snacking on his carrots, making sure to leave one on the table. The carrots were alright, the taste never mattered as much as the fact that he was putting something in his body. At least the shiny-ness entertained the piglin once she got her chubby hands on it.

The cronch cronch of the carrots was the soundtrack to Techno’s spiraling thoughts. Why was she intelligent? Clearly not as in super-genius, but mobs couldn’t pick up languages other than their own, it was part of their nature. The piglin pup wasn’t natural though, that Techno did know.

“What. Want?” she spoke up, her carrot gone. Techno would never get used to that.

Techno hummed at her, shaking his head, “Nothing.”

She- needed a name- mimicked him, shaking her head back. She pointed at him, “Want.”

Techno sighed and decided to indulge her, “You needed help so I did. Simple as that.”

A huff escaped her snout before she startled again, shrinking down and hunching her shoulders. “Sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry. I pulled you out of the Nether. Probably should have thought that through more.” Techno was a fool, the poor pup didn’t know what to do with herself. Techno didn’t know what to do with her.

Now it was silence. The weirdest standoff Techno had ever been in, with a child none the less. Thankfully, the pup broke first, yawning wide. Their little tusks poked out, they looked like they had just started coming through. Which meant this pup was very young. And needed naps. “Come on, I’ll put you to bed.”

“Beh-d,” she mouthed out, allowing Techno to pick her up and back to the library.

The blue sheeted bed was almost never used, still made from a few days ago. Techno didn’t like to sleep, and with a sleepy piglin in his arms reminding him of it, he was starting to feel the deprivation now. His yawn joined hers. He sat down and set her next to him by the pillow end.

Patting the bed, he explained, “This is a bed, you sleep on it.” She still looked a little confused and did a weird motion with her hands. It looked like an explosion, but Techno paid it no mind. If his knowledge was correct, baby piglins mostly slept in netherrack caves in groups, a bed would be a foreign experience. To show her he meant no harm, he lied down on his side, his back to the wall. She did the same, picking at the wool blanket she lied on. Techno smiled and tucked her in.

“You,” she demanded, tugging at the blanket stuck under his body weight. Oh, she thought he was going to stay with her. Right as he was about to decline, another “You!” squealed out.

Techno sighed and considered his options. It would make more sense to stay with her, make sure she’s alright through the night. He didn’t want to sleep, but…

He slithered under the blanket, trying to not get amused at the smile that graced the pup. At least she wasn’t crying.

When his eyes started to slip shut, Techo swore that he fought the need to sleep, but the piglin snuggled against his chest and the snore-like oinks were so relaxing. So maybe, he would allow himself to waste one day away. It was nice to not be so isolated for once, he thought. Soon, there were two sets of oink-like snores.

#hehhehe i told you it was coming #technoblade #technodad au #my baby (oh my pup)#my writing #ao3 #timexistsnow #dream smp #c!techno

15 notes · View notes

pulpwriterx · 4 years ago

Text

Meanwhile on Ahch-To...

“Master Luke, what was Ben like, before he was Kylo Anybody?”

When Luke returned to his hut in the morning, Ben and any trace of him were gone.

Luke pretended he knew nothing, and made a cup of tea for himself, and for Rey.

“Ben loves the wild, desolate places of the world. Mountains. Forests. Tundra. Deserts. He comes by it, honestly. He’s a Wookiee.” Leia said.

Rey laughed, a little.

“I’m not kidding. Ben is a member of the Clan Wroshyyr. Chewie is his godfather. Ben has a Wookie name. Kallaurra. Out of the four of us, me, Han, Leia, and Chewie? Chewie did the best job. You know that strange, halting, flat, quality in the way Ben talks? How he growls his words, sometimes? That’s because Basic is not his first language. Shriiyywook is. He said all of his first words in Shriiyywook. He never spoke a word of Basic until he was five and we sent him to school. He understood Basic, and he could already read and write it, but, it’s not his language. Shriiyywook is. Han was OK with it. He encouraged Ben. Do you know what Kallaurra, his Wookiee name means? Wild Man. That was Ben. He was a wild man, and he was his own man, from the time he was a little boy. He went his own way, and along that way? He questioned every tradition, and broke every taboo.”

“Do you think he’s just crazy?”

Luke smiled, in spite of himself.

“Look out at the stars, Rey. Why do they move in their orbits? Why do the suns of a planet rise and set? Why do asteroids crash into each other? Why do meteors flash across the sky, and sometimes fall to the ground? Is it from anger? From madness?”

“No, Master Luke. All those things happen because of the forces of nature.”

“And Ben’s actions are like those heavenly bodies. Driven by the forces of nature. Ben is a force of nature. He is in balance with the raw power of the Force, as it exists, untamed, in nature. Keep looking at the stars. Ben used to tell me, look at the stars, Uncle Luke. The stars belong to me. They are cold and distant. But not to me. And he was right.”

“That’s him.” Rey sighed

“Who?” Luke asked.

“The man you just described? That’s the man I fell in love with. What happened to him?”

Luke shook his head, sorrowfully.

“A great many things. First? There were his mother's expectations. She had his whole life planned out. His Royal Highness, Prince Benjamin Skywalker Organa-Solo. He was going to be the perfect Jedi, the perfect young leader, the perfect fair-haired son of the New Republic. He wasn’t supposed to be a giant behemoth of a man, who was too much like his father and his grandfather to fit in any mold. Nor was he supposed to be a funny, cute, smart but very headstrong and eccentric little boy. Han and I pretty much figured that Big Ben would be going his own way in life by the time he was six. His hair was down to his waist, and he’d scream and break the scissors with the Force if you came near him to cut it. We used to braid his hair, before he went to school. And at home? He wouldn’t wear clothes. Just a pair of underwear, if you were lucky. Like I said, he wanted to be a Wookiee. He wouldn’t speak Basic. Just Shriiyywook. We worked it out. But Ben never really changed.”

“I know. He hates clothes. It’s funny, because when he gets dressed, he wears such elaborate outfits. But he never wears clothes in his house. Not even undershorts. He really hates undershorts. He doesn’t like wearing pants, so why would he want to wear another pair of pants, under his pants. And I had to learn Shriyywook.”

Luke sighed.

“As Ben grew to manhood, I started seeing my nephew as a monster. His obsession with his own duality, and that of his grandfather. He began to adopt this outlaw iconoclast persona. Whatever it was? Ben was against it. Then there were his heretical leanings toward the Grey Path. And his vows? Forget vows. Not my nephew, the king of taboo. He would sit, and read copies of the Jedi texts, and understand them. And laugh and ask me, are they serious? Jedi are supposed to take vows of chastity, and honesty. To have control over their emotions. Ben sold cigarillos, wine, and rubbers from his father’s smuggling operation out of my father’s TIE Fighter, his personal vehicle. I remember, once, he was changing the oil on it, and he explained to me why he was a Grey Jedi, and why that was the only thing that made sense, and it almost convinced me. No, Ben was always honest. It was chastity he couldn’t manage.”

Luke laughed, shaking his head.

“I got Ben when he was 13. And he was already girl-crazy. All ready to fall in love and get laid. Because Ben’s a nice boy, he has to fall for a girl before she can have him. Ben lost his virginity when he was 16 to his mother’s Kesshiri secretary, who was 37. Ben was crazy about Minerva. He thought it would be forever. I think Leia should have at least fired her, even though Ben was the age of consent. They had an affair for a year, and then she married a diplomat from her home planet and walked out of Ben’s life. He was crushed. After that? He went looking for love in all the wrong places. Any of my female students who were curious about their resident Rebel Angel? Let’s just say, Ben never failed to satisfy their curiosity. He didn’t listen to me when I tried to stop him. He really thought he meant something to these girls. Especially one he had gone to school with. After all, they meant something to him. He was so crushed when I had to break it up, with his old school friend, and she blamed him because she thought I'd expel her.”

“But it wasn’t all Kylo’s fault!” Rey protested.

“That’s what I told her. It takes two, I told them, and I suspended all three girls. And Ben, too, for a month. He was gone for six months. Even Han couldn’t find him. The betrayal by his fellow student, his girl? It just crushed him. Finally, he showed up shaggy, unshaven, dirty and drunk, with broken knuckles, a dirty shirt with half the buttons gone, sporting a fresh blaster scar on his shoulder, and a black eye. The occasion? His 21st birthday party. He and Leia had a huge fight, and she told him she was going to pull him out of the Jedi Temple and have his father rent him by the hour out of the spaceport garage next to the cantina in Mos Eisley, if all he was going to do with his life was drink, fight, hustle contraband around the Galaxy and lay pipe to more women with less discretion that any cheap spaceport gigolo.”

Rey laughed.

“Master Leia said that to Ben?”

“She did. I was there. He never spoke to her again, after that, but I think he took it to heart. And you made an honest man of him, in the end.”

“He did listen to his mother. I was…well I would have…I was interested in Ben before he let on that he was interested in me. And you know, I was, um, a little pushy about it. And he told me that he was going to treat me with respect, and give us some time to get to know each other, because he knew what it was like to be used. It’s fun at first, and you really think they like you. But when you find out you’ve been used and then you get discarded? It hurts.”

“It hurt him. Badly. I used to get so angry with him about the TIE Fighter, and the smuggling, and the girls. He didn’t trust me to tell me how the Dark Side, how Snoke was stalking him. That he had to get away from the Temple, to get away from Snoke. He had been so troubled. I went to check on him, that night and I felt the Dark Side all around him. I thought he had given himself over to it. That was when I attacked him. But Ben didn’t let Snoke kill all of his fellow students. Guess who he saved? The very women who had thrown him under the speeder bus.”

“Well, he did forgive me for maiming his face, and trying to kill him, seconds after I did it.”

“The boy is a mystery to me. In some ways? He always has been. I never really knew what to do with him. I mean, how do you teach a six and a half foot tall force of nature who has been using the Force since he was a toddler in a crib to open the cupboard and get the cookies?”

Rey laughed.

She put her teacup down.

“You know I’m going to the Supremacy. You know you can’t stop me.”

“I’m not even going to try.”

Want more? Feed me some likes.

#reylo #ben solo lives #save ben solo #tros fix it #ben solo redemption #rey x kylo ren #reylo fanfic #kylo ren is a ruthless man #reylo married #reylo romance

13 notes · View notes