#I know his death won’t necessarily mean that but it’s a step forward

[nukebag]

can someone just kill putin when he makes his new year speech this year 🙏

[eventdrafts]

CIVIL WAR - EMPIRE STATE

CAROL DANVERS (MCU): It was nice to be in the know. Having some semblance of an idea about how to save the world before the responsibilities were shoved on your shoulders made a world of difference. Of course, some would make it difficult. There were always people who were discontent. Hell, that had been Carol at times. She was far from an easy woman. But this? This was good. This was something to protect and promote. It was nearing dark by the time she touched down on the observation deck the Empire State building. The vision had specifically said they would be flying in here before heading down to where the party was. With the mists on the horizon, they didn’t have much time before all mutants needed to be locked inside without access to the poisoned air. Waiting with arms crossed, the blonde waited until the first sight of a mutant came into view. “Almost late.” She commented lightly. “Doors are locking soon.” Gold sparked on her fist as she dropped her hands to the side. “We’ve had a vision, and what you’re trying to do won’t end well.”

PSYLOCKE: It was Magneto who had gotten them to the top. He had manipulated the magnetic fields to fly, and Hope had used her mimicry powers to boost the rest up. The wind was cold against bare thighs but Psylocke barely noticed. Violet eyes remained trained on the Captain while one hand clutched her katana. The other remained ready for the psionic blade, need be. She waited for Magneto to speak. Psylocke was many things but a diplomat was not one.

SYNCH: Everett stood behind Carol, Laura by his side as he frowned at the sight of some other fellow mutants in front of them. All of this felt unsettling, like something deeper was brewing, and he couldn't help but wonder if he was choosing the right side. He felt like this was all the right thing to do, to use these visions for good. To stop deaths before they even happened. Hell, he was obviously not against interfering with things like this. See: Ben Urich. But that didn't mean he felt great about it. Seeing Scott across from them on the complete opposite side of this debate definitely didn't help, but he was at least proud to be standing with Lorna and Jean. He raised a brow, hesitating as everyone seemed to wait for what Erik had to say.

ALEX SUMMERS/HAVOK: Alex knew this couldn’t be easy for Lorna, opposing her father like this - but the answer seemed obvious, and Alex was shocked the elder mutant had chosen the side he did. “You know, if none of you move — that’ll make this a whole lot easier.”

ERIK LEHNSHERR/MAGNETO: "And you're here to tell us to stop, I assume?" Erik took a step forward after landing lightly on the building. He only looked to Carol once he took a pause, a smirk of pity showing from beneath his helmet as he shook his head. "Captain Danvers, I expected you to know better by now. If you think that your threats of the future will stop me, will stop us— you are incredibly naive. Whatever you think might happen here tonight is not set in stone. We do not necessarily have the time to stand here debating the mechanics of time, and so this is your last warning: Go. We will not walk away when there are mutants in danger, while others lock themselves in and turn the other cheek. As far as I'm concerned— you are just as vile as them for trying to stop us."

RACHEL SUMMERS/PRESTIGE: Rachel stood firmly next to her father, watching with disappointment as she looked over at the other mutants that were standing with Captain Marvel. Magneto was right, none of this was set in stone. Trying to go out and play good guy with a potential idea of the future was naive and reckless. It just didn't feel right to leave when there were potentially mutants that were in danger.

LORNA DANE/POLARIS: God, she hated this. Lorna finally felt like she was in a good placed with her dad (after the Wanda got murdered maybe by him bump) and now she was standing on a rooftop hundreds of feet above Manhattan because she had let Jean and the X-Men convince her that Ulysses was a good idea. Lorna wanted to buy into it but found herself on the wary side of things. She was going along with it, but she’d jump ship if she had to. “People are going to die, dad.” The green haired mutant spoke up. “Mutants are going to die if you push inside that room. Please, let’s not.”

NEENA THURMAN/DOMINO: Although she checked the chamber of her gun, Domino already knew how many bullets she had. Enough to go up against Magneto? Nope. Not when he controlled metal. She was wishing that she had been the one to smuggle the mutants up with Kate instead of Cable. Then again, if there was one thing that Domino was, it was lucky. Maybe he’d miss dodging a bullet or something.

ERIK LEHNSHERR: "Mutants are going to die if we do nothing!" Underneath the anger in his voice was bitterness and frustration as he shouted back to his daughter. "That is what I know for certain, and it is not based on some vision told to me by a child! That Mist will kill mutants, ones that have been locked out and left to suffer. Lorna—" Erik's voice softened, like he was on the verge of pleading with her. "Have you been so blinded that you cannot see why we must do this?"

LORNA DANE: “Jesus, you don’t have to yell at me.” Lorna muttered under her breath. She ran a hand over her face, biting back a groan. “I’m not blinded. I’m just -- I’m trying to do what’s right. We all are, here. We don’t have much time until the Mists roll in. Let’s let the rich people party and evacuate the mutants while we can.”

ERIK LEHNSHERR: "Step aside, Lorna." Erik wasn't yelling now, but he was firm. "I do not want to fight you, but I will if I must. Evacuation will take too much time, and there is shelter right here."

LORNA DANE: The doors began to rattle as Lorna took a step towards her father. “Sorry, dad. Not going to happen.”

JEAN GREY: There were some minds she couldn’t get into. Rachel’s, for a start. Psylocke was also closed off. Jean stilled scanned the group with pink eyes before she zeroed in on a thought. “They’re smuggling mutants in.” She blinked away the glow. “Kate and Cable.” Her own kid. Ouch. “They’re coming up now.”

SYNCH: Everett's eyes widened slightly as the door handles began to rattle, his eyes drifting over towards Laura before he looked over to Lorna and Erik again. "It doesn't have to be like this." He insisted, frowning at Magneto as he took a step forward and stood firmly at Lorna's side, a rainbow colored aura slowly spreading around him. But then his head snapped back at Jean's words. "Shit." He muttered, shaking his head slightly. "They're coming up here?"

ALEX SUMMERS: Alex had been mostly silent up until this point, but Erik’s insistence on opposing them was quickly getting old - and he was growing frustrated. “I can do it - just say the word, Lorna,” clenched fists glowed a faint blue as the energy began to emanate from the middle of his chest as well.

LORNA DANE: “We’re not him.” Lorna dropped a hand onto Alex’s arm. “We don’t stoop to his level.”

[sonianvmd]

thh characters with a crush on you

warnings: none, maybe some swearing but otherwise nothing major

oH and mentions of murder and death but this is danganronpa so im going to assume u expected as much

a/n: so we kickin this blog off with a bang, writing for LITERALLY THE ENTIRE TRIGGER HAPPY HAVOC CAST LMFAOAOAOAO (excluding hifumi, yasuhiro, and the two despairs doe bc i’ve already made that clear)

also some character’s sections are shorter than others im sorry i just couldnt think of as many bullet points for them *tiktok cry emoji*

edit: I FORGOT CELSESTE FU K SORRY

spoilers under the cut!!

★ 彡 ★ ミ ★ 彡 ★ ミ ★

makoto naegi

when he realizes he likes you, he doesn’t necessarily panic or anything, but he does get nervous

nervous around you, that is

y’all saw how he was with sayaka

if he says anything that might sound intimate then he’ll immediately rephrase it or reassure he didn’t mean anything by it

he really only does have good intentions but his wording just kinda flops sometimes

he appreciates how you listen to him and value what he says

you don't make him feel dumb or inferior compared to a bunch of ultimates with actual talents

he’ll muster up the courage to tell you eventually

let’s hope his luck comes through 😁

byakuya togami

now when THIS man realizes he likes you, he a bitch nigga bout it 😐

he can't believe he fell for a common plebeian such as you

but it was hard not to

the way you preferred to get to the point

the way you were aware of your situation and didn't sugarcoat how you felt about it, although you certainly were nicer with it than him

he's ruthless

anyways

you knew your priorities and spent no time trying to use your resources

he noticed how much you had in common; in you, he saw himself

and we all know how this mf feels about himself 😐

he’ll be quick to defend you in class trials

he won’t realize he’s doing it but he just subconsciously protects you

but just because he doesn't notice it, don't mean the rest of the class brushes past it as well

yeah they on his ass LMFAOO

kyoko kirigiri

kyoko is very good at keeping her composure so she won’t be very obvious

she’ll probably just hang around you more

she’ll also defend you in class trials, calmly

“oh, it couldn’t have been [name]. i remember seeing them in their dorm around the time the murder took place.”

hifumi probably finna say some dumb shit like “aye what was you doin in their dorm doe” but anyways

she finds you respectable

if you have anything to contribute, she’ll let you take the floor

when she tells you, she’s very composed, but also very indirect LMFAO

she’s not too sure on how to express her interest in you but maybe she’ll go about it like “well, [name], now we’ve made it here, would you like to step back into the world with me?” or somethin else along those lines idk

take her hand

pls

toko fukawa

y’all know her whole “master togami” shtick

yeah so 😁😁😁😁

no but fr, toko ofc still has her borderline stalkerish 🧍🏾‍♀️ tendencies

she’ll often find herself staring at you, either in the library or in the morning meetings everyday at breakfast

but she isn’t as straight forward as she is with byakuya

i actually think she’d be mad shy and non confrontational

the whole thing she kept up with him ? yeah, never again

if you approach her first then she’ll be able to get a few words out but for most of the conversation, she’ll just nervously play with her braids

you’ll most likely put two and two together

unless ur a makoto kinnie bc then you’ll have to wait till someone else puts it in place for u but anyways

if you decide to approach her about it, you’ll kinda be backing her into a corner bc she’s just bad at deflecting things lmao

she’ll eventually confess (begrudgingly but hey i mean its better than nothing)

expect much stuttering and a gesture like giving you a small gift

and not to be that writer that uses japanese terms in english writing but toko seems like a tsundere but not really if that makes sense?? so she’d probably shove it in your hands and if you try to say something then she’ll just try to play it off as not a big deal lol

calls u a baka 😍😍

aoi asahina

i know y’all all see how she is with sakura

yeah.

aoi is the kind of person who’d like to spend time with their crush rather than shy away from them

she values you and your friendship very much

bring her donuts

just trust me bring her donuts

she doesn’t really realize she’s into you like that for a while but believe me, she is, the whole time

and yeah i think she’d be nervous to tell you bc that’s just natural but ultimately she’d be cool about it

uh oh looks like we goin for a swim

sakura ogami

similar to kyoko, she’s very calm

despite her big and bad appearance, she really is a sweet girl

she cares for you and your well-being very much

will indeed go on x games mode for you

the way she tells you is very sincere and well spoken

kith her

naow

im sorry this is like the shortest one i couldn’t think of much for her 😔😔

leon kuwata

flirtatious ass mf

and he’s lightskin

so this just cannot go well

y’all know that bit where it’s like the guy yawns and stretches his arms up and then wraps one around your shoulder

yeah that’s literally him LMFAOO

he’s very confident

he was fairly well known with the ladies at his old school so you know he’s rhockin wit it ‼️

but

you feel.. different than usual ??

those girls were just lil flings n dates bc he was nice enough to accept their confessions and it boosted his ego anyway so it was a win win

but you

he was genuinely interested in you since he had saw you the first time

he didn’t just acknowledge your appearance

he learnt about your personality and your hobbies and what you liked and such, and he really cared and wanted to hear you talk about it all

he felt the need to really make an effort to show you how much he respected and had affections for you

he doesn't tell you in a grand way

probably just asks you out to a movie or somethin

he's chillin

mondo owada

you know

for being the biggest, baddest, most respected biker gang leader

or just for being in a biker gang period

mondo’s a huge softie lol

yeah he gets violent but he’s a sweet guy who cares about and is loyal to his friends

so mfs need to be nice to you

or they gettin whooped

when he decides it’s time to tell you how he feels, he thinks over his words and he’s all confident there’s no way you’d reject him but then he sees you in the halls and goes 🧍🏾 LMFAOOO

he’ll push through but it’s like he’ll walk up to you and look away from you because he refuses eye contact and just go

“so y/n, would you wanna.. tch.. come to a drive-in movie with me or somethin’?... dumbass.”

real smooth mondo i think you got em good job

please tease him LMFAOO it’d be so funny

he’d probably yell but you can tell he’s not mad so you just keep going with it

but once you’re done tormenting him, you do agree to the movie, don’t worry 🙏🏾

also mondo would call his s/o doll

that is all

chihiro fujisaki

my fav dude in a dress <3

chihiro would be quite shy, but that’s just how he is tbh so no surprise there

he’s very kind so he’d check up on you often just to see how you are

he cares about you v much

the way he confesses is one that consists of a red face as he offers you a box of candy or something similar

and he’d feel honored that you reciprocate his feelings

he’d be very scared to tell you his secret but once he does, he’s delighted to hear it doesn’t make any difference to you

he doesn’t know how he got so lucky with you

not only because woooo they like me back but also because you like him despite,, well everything about him LMFAOO

sweet lil boy

i’d feel like he’d talk about you to alter ego a lot

and when u meet the program for the first time, he’s like “oh! you must be [name]! master’s told me all about you :)”

sobbing i miss him

kiyotaka ishimaru

okay here’s the thing

if taka were to like someone

i can’t tell whether he’d be more strict because he doesn’t want them to get in trouble (and also so it would hopefully divert any suspicion that he DOES like you since he treats you the same as everyone else, only more)

or if he’d hold back more because he favors them LMFAOO

so imma write a lil bit for both

in the case that he was even stricter:

he’d prefer to be around you because he believes the best way he can make sure you stay out of trouble is to make sure you don’t get into any in the first place

of course it’s impossible to monitor you every second of every day but he does his best to make sure you’re doing well

if he sees you do anything out of line, he’s shutting that shit down IMMEDIATELY

but in the case he let up:

he’d still lecture you but noticeably less than the other students

if your feet were resting on top of a desk, he’d ask you to move them and then leave you alone rather than yell at you and forcibly move them himself

if you notice his behavior towards you in comparison to the other students do not tease him about it he will go as red as his eyes /hj

either way he’s confessing to you with a polite but exaggerated bow while holding out a well thought out letter with both hands

sayaka maizono

she will tell you

idk why but i feel like she’d be straight up lol

she’d make sure she’s sincere

she is the ultimate pop idol and all so she wants to make sure you know that she really does like you and isn’t playing a sick joke on you or anything

ok bc

while i do think she’d tell you

i’d feel like she’d be a little indirect just to see how you feel

like she’d give you a free ticket to one of her upcoming concerts with a kind smile

and naturally, you're like :o

and of course you come to support her

and seeing you smile at her from the crowd and cheer her on was the encouragement she needed to push her to ask you out

for real this time

she asks if you wanna come to a concert with her and ur like “oh yeah i love ur shows!!” bc ur dumb and then she’s like “no i mean.. for another artist” and eventually it hits you that she’s asking you out and ur like “oH YEAH YEAH SURE THAT SOUNDS GREAT YEAH OK” LMFAOO

———

i really hope that this is good LMFAOO this is my first time writing for dr so 😃👍🏾

fun fact i finished toko’s section first and taka’s last 😁😁

and i’d like to thank @mius-imagination @bloodygir n the rest of the discord for helping me figure some of these characters out *simultaneously whips and nae naes*

bye ive been working on this for like weeks this took forever

———

edit: here’s a deleted section bc i kept blanking for this character 😍

[triggerhappyimagines]

If it's okay could I request how the dr3 boys would react to their s/o being accidentally shrunk during one of Miu's experiments or something? I thought it would be a good opportunity for lots of fluff and protectiveness hehE

this was actually very fun to write, thank you for requesting anon!! also, i apologize if some of these scenarios sound repetitive, i wrote the ones i had instant ideas for first, and then sort of left myself stuck trying to think of something for the others that didn’t sound exactly like everything else i’d already written...

also, just for fun, i decided to write a little scenario for Miu, too! i hadn’t planned on it at first, but her involvement in this particular request made me want to write for her and i couldn’t help myself,,,, this is my first time writing an imagine-type thing for her so i can only hope i did her justice aha~

warnings: a little bit of swearing

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ:

Shuichi Saihara

— VERY CONCERNED!!! VERY VERY CONCERNED!!!

— you’re so small!! what if you get lost?! what if someone steps on you?! what if you fall off something and die?! what if-

— you’ll have to calm him down before he gives himself an aneurysm lol

— somehow he’s more worried than you are. Miu says she’ll be able to get you back to normal in no time, so why shouldn’t you trust her? Shuichi could give you about a thousand reasons but that’s beside the point

— if it were up to him he would hold you and not let go unless he absolutely has to in order to make sure you don’t get hurt or stuck somewhere but obviously that’s unrealistic

— to an extent, it’s cute how worried he is about you, but it does get annoying from time to time

— i mean, you’re shrunk, not stupid. you know to stay away from edges of tables and other things you could fall from, not to wander off, etc.

— but as frustrating as Shuichi can be you really can’t get upset with him because dammit he’s so cute when he gets protective and you love him so so much

Rantaro Amami

— honestly he’s not super concerned at first

— he trusts you to be careful and not get yourself killed, and he trusts Miu to get you back to normal somehow, so why should he be worried?

— though he’ll still be pretty chill for the most part, he will start to be more protective of you when he starts to fully process the sheer number of tragic deaths you could succumb to in your current shrunken state

— this protectiveness takes the form of him offering you way more assistance than you need

— it’s nice that you want to help out, rantaro, but your s/o doesn’t need you to help them find something to sit on, c’mon now

— he kind of enjoys the way you literally fit right into the palm of his hands

— additionally, there’s now a very small, feral urge in the back of his mind to brush and style your hair like his sisters always used to do with their dolls

— he’ll probably never mention it, but don’t be too surprised if he all of a sudden takes a strong liking to playing with your hair once you’re back to normal

Kokichi Ouma

— did you expect him to treat this situation with the proper concern and caution it deserves? because if so i have bad news for you-

— he thinks it’s so funny how small you are

— like, so funny Miu has to physically intervene to get him to stop cracking up at your tiny form

— obviously you don’t think it’s as funny as he does

— right away he’s thinking of ways he could use your size to his advantage to mess with somebody

— at one point he decides it would be really funny to pretend he’s going to step on you which essentially translates to pretending he’s going to murder you but once you chew him out and explain to him how mean that was he actually feels really bad for upsetting you

— while he’s nowhere near as small as you are now, Kokichi is a rather petite guy, so the size difference between the two of you isn’t quite as drastic as it is between you and the taller guys

— since he’s a little less likely to accidentally smush you, he’s able to sorta cuddle you as if you were a small stuffed animal

— and btw being gently held and all snuggled up in his arms like that??? HEAVEN. LITERAL HEAVEN

Gonta Gokuhara

— if i had to choose someone who’s the least likely to accidentally get you killed while you’re shrunk, it would be Gonta

— i mean, he handles bugs that are much smaller and delicate than you are now, and if he can take such good care of them, obviously he’ll be able to take care of you no problem!

— you draw the line at him putting you in the little bug box he carries with him, though. you’re a human being, not a beetle!

— he likes to have you sit on his shoulders! they’re so broad that there’s plenty of room for you, too

— his hair is long enough for you to hang onto it to keep your balance if you need to!

— being so tiny also really puts into perspective just how gentle Gonta is

— yes, you’ve seen firsthand how he’s able to handle delicate little insects, and he’s always gentle with you, too, but being in the position of an insect in the palm of his hand, so to speak, is so much different

— you’ve never had anyone touch you with so much care, solicitude, and just pure love before and it’s honestly the most incredible feeling in the world

K1-B0

— another very concerned boy

— (s/o) is tiny???? how??? WHY??? HUH??

— at he’s pretty concerned about his knowledge of how humans work and fears he knows much less than he thought

— nobody ever told him they could shrink!!! he didn’t know humans could do that!! that’s because they can’t, kiibo, but i appreciate the concern

— once you explain what happened to him - how you were helping Miu out when her current experiment decided to malfunction and go apeshit, making you the size of a doll in the process - he’s a little less confused but also a lot more angry

— he makes sure to give Miu a thorough lecture on lab safety! he can’t have his s/o getting hurt just by being in the same room as her!!

— don’t worry, he’ll simmer down once you assure him that you’re okay!

— similar to Gonta, Kiibo is very careful with you! he knows you’re much more fragile than he is under normal circumstances, but now that you’re so little he’s even more worried about how susceptible to injury you are

— when he holds you or touches you, he does so with the utmost precision and care, as if you’re made of glass and would shatter if he laid his hands on you incorrectly

— he won’t tell you this, but he’s really looking forward to the day Miu is able to get you back to normal just so he won’t need to be so anxious about your safety anymore

— it’s hard work worrying about the person you love!!

Kaito Momota

— another one who’s probably not as phased by the situation as he should be

— but when Miu told him that she’d accidentally shrunk his s/o, he didn’t think that meant "i shrunk your s/o and don’t have a way fix it at this point in time"

— so when he realizes that now he has to help make sure you don’t, idk, die, he’s a little annoyed. not with you, though!

— i mean, technically he doesn’t *have* to help you out, but it would be a real dick move if he didn’t lol

— he lets you sit up on his shoulder, or in the pocket of his jacket!

— at first he doesn’t totally process that you’re a little more fragile than usual, so he may accidentally manhandle you from time to time

— just be sure to tell him if he’s holding you strangely, or if you’re starting to get uncomfy

— his priority is making sure you’re taken care of and he's not about to let himself of all people get in the way of that!!

Korekiyo Shinguuji

— he’s very worried about you, but he’ll try to hide it

— the last thing he wants to do is make your situation more stressful than it needs to be by fussing over you to no end

— it’s not that he doesn’t think you can take care of yourself anymore! he just doesn’t think the world is safe enough for you anymore!

— if you catch on to his anxiety and decide to question him about it, he’ll most likely go off on a tangent about how ‘humans are at the top of the food chain’ and ‘there’s a reason most predators are large and most prey is small’ and ‘in nature small creatures are naturally put in constant danger" or something

— while you may not necessarily appreciate him comparing you to a small prey animal, you know his heart is in the right place

— he just wants to protect you!!

— Kiyo has pretty large, slender hands, and you fit in his palm rather comfortably

— under normal circumstances, he’s incredibly gentle with you, and his delicacy of his touches increases tenfold now that you’re so tiny

— in a strange way, it almost feels like he handles you the same way he would handle some sort of fragile, ancient artifact that could be destroyed with just the smallest slip of the hand

— frankly, it’s a bit of an unusual sensation, albeit in a good way!! it’s nice to be touched so gently, y’know?

Ryoma Hoshi

— he’s glad to have a chance to be the tall one in the relationship... lol i’m jk... or am i?

— unlike the other guys, Ryoma doesn’t really dote on you and assume you need his help for everything, mostly because he knows firsthand what it’s like to be so much smaller than someone

— he doesn’t really like being treated like he’s helpless, or needs constant aid from taller people, so he’s mindful of the way he responds to the situation as not to end up behaving exactly like those who frustrate him to no end

— of course if you need him for anything, whether it’s helping you go from one place to another, or just wanting some love from your boyfriend, he’s always right there for you!

— however, sometimes he needs to go get someone taller than him to help you out with something, which he really Does Not Enjoy™️, so before you ask him to help you get something from up high (by your current standards, ofc) be sure to ask yourself if it really can’t wait until you’re back to normal lol

— like with Kokichi, the size difference between you and Ryoma isn’t all that drastic compared to some of the others, so he also manages to cuddle you without much issue. it’s a little awkward at first, but at least there’s no fear he might accidentally lay on top of you and squish you to death

— perks of having a boyfriend who’s 3’5", y’know?

Miu Iruma

— you’ve always enjoyed helping Miu out in her lab, and it isn’t uncommon for her to request your assistance with something, but up until now nothing has ever really... gone wrong in there, at least not majorly

— somehow, whatever shrinking device she’d been working on decided to have an absolute freak attack and target you, not the watermelon she was about to test it on, and now you’re about ten times smaller than you should be

— at least it works... right?

— she’s very apologetic and honestly feels so incredibly guilty that she could have possibly let something like this happen to you

— you’re honestly not very upset at first. she can fix it and you’ll be back to normal in no time, right? ...right?

— now is not the best time for Miu to be telling you about how she hasn’t yet developed a way to reverse the shrinking properties of her latest invention, but unfortunately she doesn’t really have another choice

— in the meantime, she takes it upon herself to whip up a few things to make your new life as a tiny person easier until she can dedicate her time to finding out how to get you back to normal

— you’re a little surprised at the sheer amount of robotic tools and gadgets provided to you that she just had laying around, as well as how quickly she’s able to throw together little devices to help you get around quicker, or reach things up high

— if there was any doubt that she was truly upset that her experimentation could have gone so wrong, it all vanishes the second she places her lips on your head (you may be small but that’s not going to stop her from kissing you!!) and says she’s never going to let herself put you in harms way ever again

— she loves you more than anything in the world, and would spend the rest of her life trying to undo the damage she caused if she had to! that’s how much you mean to her <3

[mountain-man-cumeth]

What Went Wrong: An In-Depth Analysis of Muriel's Route

*Youtuber voice*

Below are the opinions of an uneducated individual on what could’ve left the majority of The Arcana audience dissatisfied. I will explore the plot, tropes, themes and morals of the Muriel route and try to explain what may have gone wrong. I will be treating the game as a novel since it's advertised as one.

1. Consistency. If you are unfamiliar with the chekhov's gun; it's a story writing principle that dictates each element you introduce should come into play (foreshadowing). Now let's start with a few story beats that were later abandoned or concluded in an underwhelming manner:

Muriel's blanket

Muriel's magic mark (on his back)

Forest spirit (spirits in general)

Lucio's upbringing

Circumstances of MC's death

Figurines/whittling/charms

Muriel's blanket is teased to be a tapestry, which would tie in with his later fascination with them later on, as it had been the only thing he had left from his past. MC neither sees nor comments on the blanket, we only know it exists thanks to other playthroughs and short stories.

Magic marks are an important point in the game. Every main route emphasises on how it affects the chosen LI. It's reveal is important in a way that it serves as a passage to a new act where the reader explores magic and Arcana pantheon as they are a monumental part of the overall worldbuilding. This exact point applies to the Heart of the Forest and how spirits interact with the world around them as well.

Whittling and Charm making are the only hobbies we get from Muriel's isolated life, their introduction helps the reader humanise the character by giving us a crumb of his everyday life. It's never mentioned again after the scene where MC asks him what he does. He doesn't idly whittle during their journey and charms only come to play in an offhanded reference during reversed ending.

The other two are also ignored but I will touch on Lucio later on.

Why do these matter? A few abandoned plot points don't make or break the story but on a grander level it hinders the audience investment. When we read, we like to think the details we notice will come to play eventually, we like recognizing references that were introduced earlier. I'm sure I don't need to give examples on this one, I don't think anyone will disagree.

2. Themes. Thematic influences this story utilized are all over the place, and it seems to me like it stems from the improper application of certain tropes;

The Hero's Journey

Home Sweet Home

Shell-Shocked Vet

Last of His Kind

etc.

Some of these tropes tackle themes such as;

Slavery

PTSD

Survivor's Guilt

Genocide

I'm not going to try to explain How to Write any of these topics. I'm not remotely qualified. I think it's better if I just give examples from popular media because whether you know how to write it or not, you can still understand when it's written well;

AtLA deals with genocide and survivor's guilt. It's in the name; The Last Airbender. Aang is the sole survivor of a culture he'd only had an opportunity to engage in for a handful of years. He left them with a childish tantrum and now they're gone forever. I can't think of another mainstream series that shows the gruesome reality of war and genocide better than this one.

When Muriel realizes his true heritage and loses Khamgalai is the point of the story where Luke sees his family's farm burned down, Aang goes back to the air temple, Treebeard walks in on the demolished part of the forest. (The inciting incident)

(Could also have been forest spirit’s death but it was too early in the story so I don’t consider it a missed opportunity.)

Up until this point the hero has their doubts, they're going through the motions but they are either underestimating the enemy or they're a passive protagonist. Either way, this is the point where the hero has to take the reins of the story. What purpose does this serve in Muriel's route instead? It simply validates Muriel's beliefs. He's useless, he isn't strong enough. We as the reader need a point to see where the hero takes a step to drive the story forward or whoever takes that step will steal the spotlight, it will be their story. As it is, this is the point where it ceases to be Muriel’s story.

PTSD got the worst end of the deal. Since Dragon Age fandom has a huge overlap with the Arcana I will use Fenris as an example; for those who are unfamiliar with the character, Fenris is an escaped slave. After the sex scene he vividly describes an experience that most people can easily identify as a flashback. The game never tells us that he was abused, it doesn’t show us him having a panic attack but it shows us that whatever transpired between him and the player character clearly triggered an unpleasant memory.

Arcana tries and initially succeeds to do something similar. We see that the character is untrustworthy, sensitive to touch, easily agitated, can’t sleep outside of his perceived safe environment… It introduces us the cause later on and the story has two options, each will drastically change the moral of the story:

Remember these as they will be important later on

Portray Muriel fighting as a bad thing; You can’t fight violence with violence angle or the fact that the villain’s forcing him into a situation where he’ll have to fight again makes the villain all the more intimidating.

Portray Muriel fighting as a good thing; He has the means to defeat the villain and he just needs encouragement. With great power comes great responsibility. By not fighting he willingly condemns everyone to an awful fate and that he is selfish.

I’d like to take a second to explore the 1. Option, I feel like the game may have intended to implement that idea but failed because of the implementation of Morga and choices presented for the player character: Morga is an Old-Soldier, these characters are often push the hero out of their comfort zone in an aggressive way towards complacency, they are a narrative foil to the mentor. For the first option to work the story had to show Khamgalai acting as a mentor and having the protagonists challenge Morga’s teachings(see Ozai-Iroh). As it is, Morga’s actions are never put under scrutiny (narratively) and her death feels hollow as a result. She didn’t sacrifice herself for the heroes due to her guilt, she died because she felt a moment of sympathy for her son which wasn’t explored before, she showed no intention to change nor any doubt.

It is clear the game choose 2. Option, it is a controversial choice given Muriel’s mental condition and the game is acutely aware of this, which is likely why Muriel’s PTSD will get carefully scraped from the story from here on out. (I won’t address other instances where his trauma wasn’t taken into account, I feel like this explanation should cover them as well.)

3. Morals. Every story, whether the author intends it or not, has a moral. The Villain most often acts against that moral and in turn can change the hero's perspective. Morals are not ideals; the morality of Killmonger isn’t that marginalised people should fight for their rights, it is that vengeance is just. Whether it’s right or wrong can be debated but what makes an ideal the moral of the story is in the portrayal. How the narrator depicts the events, how people around the heroes react... all are a part of portrayal.

The story choosing “Muriel fighting is a good thing” earlier puts in the foundation of a moral. The story tells us Muriel has to fight, it’s the right thing to do. He has to be brave for the people he loves.

This choice affects how his past actions will be perceived; now, him escaping the arena to save himself is cowardly, abandoning Morga is cowardly.

The story tells us it wasn’t, but shows us that it was. This is the end of the midpoint of the story, at this point we need to have a good grasp on what we should perceive as wrong or right for us to feel invested. If we zig-zag between the morals we won’t know which actions we should root for. But more than that, the conclusion will not feel cathartic as it will inevitably demonstrate the opposing ideals clashing at its climax.

Villain doesn't necessarily have to be sympathetic and Muriel's route makes no effort to make him as such, but they need to be understandable. What danger does Lucio pose to the status quo, what makes him a compelling villain? Whether he conquers Vesuvia or not doesn’t drastically affect Muriel’s way of life, he’s been in hiding for years. He doesn’t threaten to steal MC’s body, Muriel is not compelled to pick up arms to save his beloved. He wants to protect the people from going through what he’s been through, right? That is what the story wants us to think. But what has he been through? Fighting was his choice, Lucio tricked him into it. Lucio later tricked Morga, his own mother, to save his own hide. This tells us that Lucio is a manipulator, but he doesn’t manipulate his way into Vesuvia, he barges in with deus ex machina monsters. He doesn’t demonstrate his skills as a tactician by making deals with neighbouring kingdoms to get their armies. We don’t know his strengths therefore we don’t know his weaknesses. If he seems to be losing he can just conjure a giant dragon to burn everything down, we just can’t know. That is why the application of deus ex machina is highly taboo, the victories don’t feel earned and defeats feel unfair.

4. Tone. Playing with the genre is not uncommon and a game such as Arcana has many opportunities to do so. It is a romance story, everything else is the back-drop. The tone works best when its overall consistent but tonal changes act as shock for the audience to keep them engaged and keeping one tone indefinitely gets us desensitized. We can’t feel constant misery if we are not made to feel tinges of hope in between. Good examples of dramatic tonal change (that I can think of): Mulan - arriving at the decimated village, La Vita e Bella - the father’s death, M*A*S*H - death of Hawkeye’s friend. Two of these examples are mostly comedy which is why this tonal shift affects us so, it was all fun and games until we are slapped in the face with the war going on. There are no one liners in those scenes, the story takes a moment to show appropriate respect to the dead, it gives its characters time to digest and come to terms with loss. Bad examples are the majority of Marvel movies.

In Muriel’s route there’s never such a thing, Muriel has a panic attack and MC kisses him. This unintentionally tells us, the genre being romance, that the panic attack only served to further MC’s advances. It tells us that he’s never had the control of his life and it’s yet again stripped from him by the decisions of player character. This is not the only instance this happens. The story shoe-horns in multiple cuddle sessions between important plot beats. And it does the exact opposite during a moment where he is having a heart-to-heart with the person he loves by having the ghost of Morga appear to give an ominous warning/advice.

When he runs off during masquerade it’s built up to be an important plot point. Muriel will finally face his past, he’s been running away from it all along, and he will have an opportunity to be accepted back in. MC is supportive but ultimately, it’s meant to be Muriel's moment. But as I mentioned above this is not his story anymore so he’s not given any time to address his problems, instead a ghost appears to tell him what he needs to do, again. Because we need to wrap the story up, we don’t have time.

Remember how I said the 2 Options will be important later on, well here we are at the very end. Upright and reversed.

“Portray Muriel fighting as a bad thing”

This suggests that the triumph of Muriel won’t be through violence. Maybe he will outsmart Lucio in a different way, he won’t play his games anymore. This option suggests that Lucio will not be beaten by his own terms.

“Portray Muriel fighting as a good thing”

This option concludes with Muriel finally overcoming his reservations on violence and doing what's right to save the people he loves. And bringing justice to people who Lucio hurt.

If you are wondering why the upright ending feels random, this is likely why. The ending plays out as if the story was building on the 1st option while we spent chapters upon chapters playing out the 2nd one. It is unearned.

(The reversed ending, being reversed, also uses Option 1 path but in which Muriel can’t achieve his narrative conclusion)

The Coliseum is filled with people who are on their side against Lucio’s shadow goons. Because we can’t have people being on Lucio’s side without addressing the duality of human nature, even though it’s an important part of Muriel’s story. The people who watched and enjoyed Lucio’s bloodsport are no more, they are all new and enlightened offscreen. We completely skipped the part where Vesuvia comes to terms with its own complacency and Muriel simply feels at ease because the crowd is cheering on him now. This is what happens when you give the character a chance to challenge those who have been complicit in his abuse (masquerade scene) and completely skip it to move the story along.

Muriel doesn't get justice, ever. The people only love him now because he's fighting for them instead of his own survival. Morga or her clan doesn't answer for the massacre of Kokhuri, Vesuvia doesn't answer for the sick entertainment they indulged in and Lucio doesn't answer for Muriel's enslavement. It is not even acknowledged, nowhere in the story (except the very end of reversed ending, and even then it almost gets him killed so its clearly the wrong thing to do on his part) is a choice presented where Muriel has an opportunity to get any sort of compensation where he instead chooses to move on.

I don’t intend to straw man anyone but this is a sentiment I’ve seen a lot; “It’s a short story, a dating-sim, what do you expect?”

I expect nothing, I’m simply explaining why some people feel how they feel. It is a short dating-sim but it seems to me like it was aiming to be something more by borrowing elements that were clearly far above their weight range to tease something more and under deliver. It is okay to feel content with the story, and it’s okay to feel let down. If we had a unanimous decision on literature we would never be inclined to write our own stories.

[sorry-i-ship-drarry]

hi! hope you're having a great day. just dropping in to say I absolutely love your writings.

prompt request: 15 from 300 followers appreciation post.

have a great day. absolutely love your work <3

Thank you so much anon. Ngl since the moment I put out this list, I had been most excited to write this one out and I don't know how this one turned out.

Just petty things

Dialogue prompt- 15. You couldn't handle me even if I came with instructions | Fluff ( ig) | ENEMIES TO LOVERS |

"oh yeah, watch me malfoy " harry sneered taking the bottle of expensive champagne and pouring it down the drain with draco watching him with horror Struck upon his face

" oh, oops. Hope the bottle doesn't empties- oh wait- it already is empty " harry shook the bottle over draco's face in mockery

" you moron. It was fine champagne imported from France. Do you even know how much it costed ?" draco sneered at harry grabbing his wrists harshly

" what you gonna do about it? Ruin my food ? No wait, you actually already did that " Harry raised his eyebrows grinning viciously

Draco scowled at harry angrily before he jerked away Harry's hand's away.

" ruin my food one more time and I'll throw you out " harry threatened

Draco clenched his jaw angrily murdering harry inside his head..

" you wait and watch " draco challenged harry before he storming back to his room.

" oh yeah. I am sure I can handle you " harry yelled.

Draco turned around dramatically, his face red from all the anger " you couldn't handle me even if I came with instructions " he yelled and slammed his bedroom door shut.

Harry too stormed away in his room slamming the door after him, angrily. Bless those door hinges.

Despite the rivarly dying out ages ago and the reconciliation followed after that, they still annoyed the living death out of each other with petty fights almost everyday. Originally the apartment is Harry's but after Blaise had came to live with him, it partially became his until the moment Blaise wanted to settle down and move in with his girlfriend. So being the nice flatmate he was he got harry an anonymous partner who by claims had been extremely nice, organised, clean and a great friend. Of course Blaise didn't mention " also your childhood enemy " or he necessarily didn't. Either way it didn't work out of course but since the rent act started stirring up in the public, it became Incredibly hard for draco to find another apartment and now here they were, 2 months in living together, messing each other's daily life and petty fighting.

" I'm telling you Blaise, he drive's me nuts " harry groaned as he pointed at Draco.

" oh I drive you nuts, excuse me, you drained my entire fucking bottle of champagne, of course I'll drive you nuts " draco narrowed his eyes at harry.

" you Drained his bottle of champagne ?" Blaise asked harry with an amused reaction sitting on the centre couch.

" well- he- he cut all my avocados, scooped out the insides of it and left the seed and not only that, he added Scotch to my lasagna " harry accusing-ly pointed his finger at draco.

" you did that ?" Blaise laughed looking at Draco

" Blaiseee " harry sternly voiced

" oh, no you're Right. Of course, you shouldn't had done that no matter how good it actually was,you shouldn't had. You know he loves avocados " Blaise nodded.

" but-"

" no really draco. I mean it. He's very serious about his food, even when I lived with him " Blaise added

" I need him out of here " harry added

" what ? You can't do that-"

" I can, if you're forgetting this apartment is originally mine " harry interjected draco.

" okay, whoa whoa, calm down. Nobody's getting thrown out alright. Just take a deep breath and we'll talk about this- well your differences alright "

" you know it's all your fault. You should've never bought a flatmate without asking me "

" me? I thought I was helping you out " Blaise defended himself

" well clearly not " harry shook his eyes head with wide eyes, crossing his arms over his front.

Blaise huffed a breath gulping down the rest of his coffee and turned to draco.

" you want to move out ?"

" what- no. I mean yes I don't want to live with him but I don't want move out " draco replied furrowing his eyebrows.

" see, Harry, he doesn't want to move out-"

" he's doesn't want to live with me Blaise. Clearly we're on the same side " harry faked a smile at draco.

Blaise looked up at the ceiling in annoyance before he got up from the couch to make his point " do you both realise you're adult's. Because it seems otherwise. I'm tired of listening to your petty fights and the pranks and the revenge. Why can't you two just like normal civil people? I thought you both had reconciled "

" look I know it's hard for both of you but you guys are the most incredible flatmates I've ever had alright and I know you two are better than this. So please, just please starting acting like you're actually 22 and if you can't be around each other then just- just ignore another alright. Don't talk " Blaise raised his eyebrows waiting for a reply before harry did

" I can work with not talking " harry mumbled.

" I'm good at ignoring " draco mumbled too.

" see, now that's the spirit. Now I have to go,I have a lunch with Sophie's parents, can I trust the two of you to not get involved into another fight ?" Blaise asked with raised eyebrows.

" good " he huffed when neither replied and took his jacket and decided to walk out with harry and draco following after him.

" just " he breathed " be nice to each other alright. You don't even have to talk "

" we can handle ourselves. We're not kids " draco rolled his eyes

Blaise opened his mouth to say something but shut it right off and gave draco a firm smile and left, with almost zero hope that it worked out.

Well it only worked partially. They ignored each other of course but still couldn't bear the thought of the other, which was somehow a progress and Blaise was rather proud because for the first time in 2 months they didn't wanted to kill each other.

Or so he thought thing's were better until a week later when Draco found harry making out with someone on the couch in the living room. Well he was decent enough not to shout till the date left.

" I sleep on that couch sometimes " draco disgustingly said as a shiver ran down his spine.

" well that's your problem. You have perfect bedroom for sleeping " harry rolled his eyes opening the water bottle and drinking from it..

" I don't care, the couch is off limits " draco snapped

"you don't tell me what is off limits and what's not-"

" i sure can. This is as much as of an apartment as much as its your " draco threw at harry.

" well this is my house, I can kiss anyone I want, wherever I want and whenever I want and you cannot boss me " harry Snapped back stepping closer to draco to make his glaring more threatening.

Draco flared as he stepped closer " you can not "

" yes I can " harry titled his head

" you cannot " draco widened his eyes

" what you gonna do about it ?" Harry egged him on.

Draco breathed sharply before he stepped back throwing his hands in the air " I can't believe you. You think this, everything is yours. Why am I be surprised though, it has Always been yours , hasn't it. Oh I'm harry potter, the world is all mine, I am praised everywhere I go with posters still upon the wall with my huge fanbase and everybody gushing over me. I'm so great, I'm brilliant. Maybe I should get a pedestal to stand on, oh wait I already built myself one " draco shouted

Harry crushed the bottle in his hand before he jerked forward grabbing draco by his collar " you- fucking- asshole. You take that back "

" oh I'm sorry did that hurt you? I won't take it back, you wanna punch me for that " draco asked raised his eyebrows, his hands steady by his sides

" you do not fucking know anything about my life. I'm giving you a warning to shut up-"

" or what? You're gonna punch me, as if you have the guts " draco sneered

" don't tempt me malfoy-"

" oh, I am scared. Save it potter. You can never punch me " draco narrowed his eyes at harry

Harry heaved heavily as he grabbed onto draco's collar tighter but didn't make a move to actually punch him, though his anger was getting out of control.

" you know what, you were better before I got you out of prison. Should've left you there to die " harry didn't mean to say it out loud but he did and it took him exactly a second to realise what had he done and regret immediately flooded in him as he saw draco's lip twitch and the look of pain crossing his features.

" you're right. You should've left me there to die " draco Snapped before he jerked away from harry easily as he had loosened his grip and stormed out of the apartment taking his coat with him.

Harry huffed in annoyance, rubbing his hand over his face, swearing in himself and kicking the chair nearby in guilt and anger.

Despite living in the same apartment, harry didn't see draco at all for at least a week or more until harry was returning very late from work and wanted to silently sneak in after having thought the entire way back home how to makeup to draco when he realised he didn't had to when he saw draco sitting in the balcony with all the door's open..

" you could've at least shut the door. The entrie apartment will be cold now " harry cautiously said as he approached draco and Stood by the door.

Draco sniffed Before he mumbled a soft Apology and within a second harry realised something was wrong and went into the balcony where draco was now standing.

" hey, you alright ?" Harry asked as he carefully placed his palm over Harry's shoulder

" yeah- just something at work " draco mumbled turning away from harry.

" hey hey hey, it's alright, you can talk to me if you want"

" yeah like you'd want to listen " draco scoffed dabbing his face with a tissue.

" of couse I will. Why wouldn't I ?" Harry asked frowning.

" why would you ?" Draco questioned back

" well- i- because I do care and there shouldn't be a reason why not to " harry raised his shoulder before dropping again.

Draco looked at him for a moment before he looked away, chewing the insides of his cheeks.

" you don't have to. I understand. I just want you to know I'm here " harry said softly tilting his head so he knew Draco saw him through the corner of his eyes.

Harry Stood with him for a few minutes in silence until he understood that perhaps he wanted to be alone and decided to step back inside.

" I lied "

" what do you mean you lied ?" Harry asked as he turned around and stood next to draco again with his hands on the railings, watching him..

" I lied about what upset me. It's not my work. It's my parents " draco side glancing at harry.

" oh " harry Only replied

" they sent me a letter that they took down my name from the final will. So I'm well not going to get the manor "

" so you were crying because you don't get the manor ?" Harry pursed his lips to control the little laugh wanting to escape his lips.

Draco shook his head, in " I can't believe I even tried " and he stepped off the balcony to go back inside

" I'm kidding, obviously " harry stopped him, holding out his wrist from going.

" just trying to lighten your mood " harry shrugged. Draco looked at him nonchalantly for a moment before breathing out and standing next to harry again.

"so they took your name off the will ? What else ?" Harry asked as he leaned on the railing watching draco.

" it's-" he breathed " it's not about the manor or any other thing. I stopped caring about that a long time ago, it's just, after all this time I thought they'd accept me. And-" he bit the inside of his lip, closing his eyes " they still don't "

Harry's gaze softened and he spoke up " they probably never will and you'll have to live with it even if it's hard "

" I know but it's just- their acceptance matters the most to me even if I don't say it out loud but It hurts sometimes knowing that I can't stop caring. First they abandoned me, then disowned me from the joint account at gringotts, sold the cottage house under my name and the last thing I had left- they took my name off that. It's like they're doing everything possible to make it believable that I- I just- never existed , like simply erasing it " draco's eyes sparkled with tears and harry watched as draco tore down his walls unknowingly and only then harry approached a simple physical touch of holding his hand over the railing.

" your existence is with you draco. They're all just papers. Your life or your name or anything about you isn't decided by a piece of paper. Hell I'm the hottest bisexual in Britain by the witch weekly and I can bet my ass that I've seen hotter but it's just a paper "

Draco chuckled and harry gave him a smile.

" I know it upsets you and I understand what losing a family is like but you can always create your own family " harry contagiously smiled

" I'm gay potter " draco rolled his eyes with a smile.

" not the actual reproduced family. I mean your friends, they can be your family. It's time you choose your family, who doesn't take away a manor from you "

Draco smiled softly " but it still hurts"

Harry stepped closer to him looking him in the eye " it always will, but one day you're going to look at the whole thing and be like I still have a family and much better one infact"

" you really think so ?" Draco asked

" I know so " harry whispered smiling.

They stared at each other long enough until they realised how close they had been standing in that small balcony and harry cleared his throat to break the moment of unusual staring.

" you wanna stay out here for a while. I'll grab the blankets?" He asked

Draco opened his mouth to deny but instead he nodded with a smile and harry quickly went in to fetch the blankets and pillows with something to eat and joined draco back in the balcony..

" wait, you just came back from work, aren't you tired ?" Draco finally asked

Harry shook his head shrugging " I'm good " and they settled into the area with his back supported on the glass, sitting close enough..

" you're not always an asshole then " draco teased as they opened the packet of chips and sipped some butter beer..

Harry chuckled " well yeah " and he took some chips from the packet.

After moments of eating in silence draco finally turned to harry again and mumbled a small thanks.

" you don't have to thank me" harry replied looking back at Draco and keeping his gaze still at him.

" listen I'm sorry about the other day. I was just angry and you sort of boiled me a little and it just-"

" it's alright. I forgive you " draco gave harry a tender side smile and harry smiled back equally tender.

" can I kiss you ?" Draco asked after having stared at each other long enough to know that kissing was what was left.

" do you really want to ?" Harry asked looking at Draco's lips wanting to do the same.

" yes " draco mumbled as he leaned closer to harry.

" this changes everything draco" harry whispered when they were Only an inch apart, breathing in small breaths..

" I know. I want to " draco mumbled..

Harry bought his hands to draco's face, stroking his cheeks " are you absolutely sure ? I don't want you to regret this next morning "

" will you ?" Draco asked looking in Harry's eyes as a confirmation.

" I won't " harry replied as his heart beat More loudly.

" I won't either " draco mumbled and before Harry could've further asked anything else, he kissed him over the lips, sweet and slow at first then escalating to it becoming a need, leaving them both panting.

" you really are sure ?" Harry panted as they separated for air..

Draco rolled his eyes straddling harry, cupping his face " you ask me one more time and I'll make you question your entire life harry" and he kissed harry again tugging at his hair as harry encircled his arms around Draco's Waist pulling him closer, leaning his head upwards to kiss him more thoroughly..

And they remained there as Long as the night was still young, kissing each other, panting each other's breath, fighting for air, for Dominance and moaning. Just there, in the moment.

I understand I didn't necessarily made harry and draco already having feelings for each other but it seemed nice for a change to go with their flow.

(I don't know if literally anyone notices but my writing style varies a lot, personally not liking recently what I've been writing tho )

300 followers appreciation dialogue Prompt requests open

Angst prompt requests open

[sunsetcurvecuddles]

Alex + Julie "You didn't deserve that... You deserve so much better."

you sent me this prompt a million years ago i'm sorry it took me so long to answer it. warning for friendship breakup angst. there's no carrie redemption arc in this fic but there IS alexjulie friendship.

with love on their throats | g | 1.7k | alex&julie, past julie&carrie

ao3 link in reblogs!

--

Julie doesn’t mean to ignore the boys all afternoon, but Carrie’s birthday was hard last year and so far, this year doesn’t seem to be getting any easier.

She has the foresight to turn her phone off, at least, this year. She can’t handle the social media posts from everyone else at their school. They’re probably in Carrie’s pool, in her kitchen, in her living room. Probably throwing around the throw cushions that Julie’s mom taught her and Carrie to sew covers for when they were ten. Maybe even smashing the glasses Julie used to drink Trevor’s homemade iced tea out of when she would come to visit before Carrie got home from sport in the evenings. The idea of seeing these familiar spaces still just… out there, existing, rather than stuck in the past along with her and Carrie’s friendship, makes Julie nauseous.

Plus, there’s the added bonus of not being able to text Carrie something reckless she might regret.

So her phone’s switched off. Her dad knows not to bother her today anyway, since he had a front-row seat to whole Carrie mess when it happened. He just shot her a sympathetic glance over breakfast and hasn’t spoken to her at all. Carlos is at a friend’s house, and wouldn’t bother her even if he were home.

It’s just the ghosts Julie is avoiding, locked her bedroom door, perched on her window seat with her headphones on, watching YouTube on her laptop.

Which means it scares her half to death when Alex waves a hand in front of her face.

She yanks her headphones off and curses, sharp and a little louder than she means to, and Alex jumps back like he’s been burned. “Julie! Uh, hi, hey. Sorry to scare you.”

“Why didn’t you knock?!” she demands, still breathless. “It’s you, you know better! Boundaries!”

At least Alex has the decency to look shamefaced. “I know, listen, it’s just -- we were worried about you! And we did knock, a lot, actually, but I don’t think you could hear us? So I said we should give you space but Luke and Reg started psyching each other out, and Luke’s never been able to handle space the same way since the Caleb Covington Kidnapping Incident--”

Which, okay, yeah, that’s fair enough. Julie still shudders at the memory of the Caleb Covington Kidnapping Incident.

“-- so then I got nominated because, well, Reg worried you might be getting changed or something, and that makes me the obvious choice, not that I wanted to be the obvious choice, just that -- okay, I’m doing a bad job, what I mean is --”

Finally, she decides to put him out of his misery. “Alex, stop. It’s fine.”

Relieved, he lets out a breath and leans on his knees, looking up at her with pretty, apologetic eyes. “Still. I’m sorry. I really didn’t mean to frighten you, we just… got worried. And wanted to see if you were okay. You’ve been in here all day.”

Julie nods and looks back at her laptop, where the YouTube video is still playing, and pauses it.

She hasn't looked back over at Alex when he says, cautious, "Are you okay?"

When she replies, “Yeah,” it isn’t because she wants to lie to him, necessarily. It’s more because she doesn’t know how to untangle her feelings enough to lay them out in front of him. More because it’s hard to explain why she still misses someone who she knows hurt her, who she knows should have known better.

It’s hard to explain why she feels guilt, and grief, over something she chose to let go.

The window seat dips when he sits down next to her, fingers twisted together in his lap, shoulders rolled forward. He’s offering her the tiniest, encouraging smile in the form of a little quirk at the corner of his mouth. Julie loves him so much that it softens the heartache, just for a moment.

But then it returns. Just as strong. Just as unreasonable. Just as painful.

“It’s Carrie’s birthday,” she tells him, without even knowing why she says it.

“Oh,” he replies, which seems fair. She doesn’t know what she’d say in his position. He chews his lip, a crease forming in his brow. “You guys used to be friends, right?”

God, can she talk about this out loud? It’s easier to joke with Flynn, to make fun of the situation, because Flynn saw it all play out, held Julie when she cried, stopped being friends with Carrie in solidarity. Explaining the situation from start to finish, to someone new, just feels impossible.

So instead she says, “Do you ever miss someone you know you can’t have back? Or not that you can’t. But you know you shouldn’t. You know that you can’t get them back, or you’d have to give up too much for it and it wouldn’t be worth it.”

Because sure, if Julie was really committed, she’s sure she could grovel her way back into Carrie’s inner circle. But as much as she misses her, she’s not prepared to do it.

Alex nods, understanding. “Yeah,” he says plainly. “Yeah, I do. Tons of people.”

Julie’s surprised, but she supposes she shouldn’t be. The boys talk about Alex’s family the way Julie’s mom used to talk about ghosts -- never directly, otherwise they’d hear her and be summoned -- and after the whole thing with Trevor, well. It makes sense.

“Can I get it to stop?” Julie asks. “I had to turn off my phone before I did something stupid like text her. What would I even say? Why would I want to say anything?”

“I don’t know,” he murmurs. He leans over so their shoulders bump together, and she leans her head on him. “It’s okay to miss her, you know. You guys had good things in your friendship -- I mean, I guess, right? That’s why you miss it?”

Julie nods, closing her eyes. There are so many good memories she doesn’t even know where to start. Running in the park. Sitting at the piano together. Fashion shows for their dads and Julie’s mom in the living room of the Wilsons’ huge house. Sleepovers with Flynn full of bickering and giggling and pillow fights. Birthday parties, their whole lives.

“But that doesn’t mean you didn’t have a good reason for stepping away,” Alex says.

That’s true, too. Julie’s pretty sure they didn’t have that good stuff for a while before their friendship ended, in reality. Carrie was becoming… snappish. Self-absorbed. All she wanted to do was boss the other girls in dance class around, and she didn’t ask to hear Julie’s songs anymore. Julie knew that being a good friend meant weathering the good with the bad, but she gave Carrie what felt like a million chances, and she wasn’t getting anything back. When she’d tried to bring it up to Carrie, things had… exploded.

She explains as much to Alex, in fits and spurts, and finishes with, “She just… blew up at me, she told me she’d been sick of me for ages and asked why I hadn’t noticed. Like I was just supposed to realise that we weren’t friends anymore without her telling me.��� Sucking in a shaky breath, she manages, “And then my mom…”

“Oh, Julie,” Alex murmurs softly into her hair. She’s trying not to cry, she really is, but it feels all bubbly at the surface of her chest, and the way he puts an arm around her and squeezes tight shows that he can tell.

“I know it’s silly,” she chokes, “but it feels like we broke up, or something, even though we were just friends. It hurts so much just thinking about her.”

“It’s not silly,” he assures her, and wraps his other arm around her, too, so he’s hugging her close to him with her head against his chest. “There’s nothing less important about friends, and a friendship ending can really suck. Especially how she did it.” He presses a kiss to her forehead, and doesn’t draw attention to the few tears making their way down her cheeks. They sit like that for a moment, then Alex says quietly, “You’re a wonderful friend. You didn’t deserve that. You deserve so much better.”

Sniffling, Julie rubs her sleeve across her eyes, wiping away the tears. The thought dawns on her like the sunrise after a long, sleepless night. “I have so much better,” she realises out loud. “I have Flynn. And Dad and Carlos. And you and Luke and Reggie.”

“We are pretty fantastic,” Alex agrees, faux-smug, but his eyes are still cautious, and affectionate. “But it’s okay to be upset anyway.”

“I know,” she says. And she does. “But I think I’m almost done being upset. For now, at least. Maybe we could run through a few songs?”

“I’m sure the boys would love that,” Alex tells her, smiling, and he goes to stand up but she holds on tighter, so he won’t leave the hug.

He just feels so steady, and comforting, and she’ll never really get over being able to actually hold them. “Can we just. Stay here for a moment, first?”

Easing himself back down, Alex grins and pulls her closer, tucking her head under his chin. “Of course,” Alex says. “We can take as long as you need. Just us, or the others, too?”

She pauses. “The others, too.”

Alex closes his eyes, and Julie knows he’s reaching out to the others, through their one leftover remnant of their time in the afterlife, tugging at their leads until they come to find him. A moment later, Reggie and Luke both pop into presence in the middle of her room, puppy-eyed with worry and hope.

“Julie?” asks Reggie quietly, fiddling with his fingers.

“You good?” Luke asks, on the balls of his feet.

“Yeah,” she tells them. “Just needed a hug.”

Within moments, they’re all around her and Alex, Reggie’s arm around her waist, Luke’s leg somehow, inexplicably, over her lap. Alex makes an insulted noise, but he’s so relaxed, Julie knows he must not mean it. When she presses her ear to his collarbone, Julie can hear his heartbeat, solid and alive, miraculous. Her friend’s heartbeat. Her friends, all around her.

Things are still bittersweet, and it’s still Carrie’s birthday, but Julie is still surrounded by love, enveloped in it, living in it. She can be sad for what’s gone, and be grateful for what she has, at the same time.

[mandoalorian]

Borrowed Time [Din Djarin x F!Reader]

ੈ♡˳‧₊*: • Chapter 6: The Proposal ✩࿐ ˚.✧

Summary: You are the princess of Mandalore, held hostage on your own planet by Moff Gideon and his army of Imperial troopers. Left with no choice, you send out a distress signal; a plea for protection— and who comes? None other than Din Djarin, a foundling of The Death Watch. He, by creed, is your sworn enemy. And where you have asked for his protection, he has been told by his mentor that he must marry you and gain the ability to restore Mandalore to its former glory.

Word Count: 3000>

Warnings: arranged marriage mention, childhood trauma mention, food mention

Series Masterlist

Why was he so nervous? He shouldn’t be this nervous. Din was subconsciously pacing backwards and forwards, the weight of the beskar wedding ring pulling him down with every step he took. You were sitting in the corner, cradling Grogu in your arms and cooing sweet nothings into his ear. Grogu looked up at you with complete adoration, his big, dark eyes gleaming with admiration. Din could understand why he was so fond of you. You were so easy to love. 

“I’m hungry,” you announced with a small frown. You had been stuck in the covert for around four hours and it was already well into the evening. “And so is he.” you said, smoothing your hand over the little green bean’s wrinkly forehead. Din omitted a small ‘hmph’, simply acknowledging your comment but choosing not to do anything about it. Everytime he looked at you, the butterflies in his stomach only became more erratic, and his heart swelled with yearn and anticipation. He was actually going to ask you to marry him.

There was no telling how you’d react. But rather than manipulating you into believing he loved you in order to gain the throne of Mandalore, like he had initially planned on, Din had gained far too much respect for you to do such a thing. Besides, how could he possibly pretend to love you when the chances were, he was already falling. So he had opted to be honest, and it would be brutal. But he had no other choice. It would be foolish for you to refuse his proposal considering everything that was at stake. 

“We need to talk.” Din announced, taking Grogu from your arms and settling him down into the hovering cot. Taking a handful of sourberries from the sack in his pocket, he dropped them into his son’s claws and used his gauntlet to close the crib, offering a sense of privacy. 

“We need to talk,” you quoted him, your frown only deepening as you stood up. “That doesn’t sound good.”

Din shuffled around awkwardly. He’d never imagined marrying anyone. He was a lone wolf, and always had been. But now he was with the most beautiful princess in the entire galaxy, and you looked like something straight out of a fairytale his mother would read him when he was just a child. You were too good for this world. You were filled with care and compassion and unconditional love, but not only that, you were a warrior and a fighter. You knew what you wanted and you wouldn’t stop until you got it. And it was his duty, as a Mandalorian, to protect his Manda’lor. 

“We’re surrounded. By Imps… hunters… people who want you dead. People who will turn you in for a reward. You’re safe, here, in the covert. But we’ll have to leave eventually, and it won’t be easy.” Din confessed, shaking his head. He sounded uneasy, and the tone of his voice wasn’t lost on you. Just for once, you wished he’d remove that helmet of his so you could take a look into his eyes. It would help you gauge what exactly was going on.

“But the Mandalorians here will protect me, right? That’s what you said?” you asked, and Din wanted to curse himself. You were right, he did promise that, but as it turned out, not everything was as it seemed.

“On a condition…” he exhaled, trying to hold himself together. You furrowed your eyebrows in bewilderment, waiting for him to spit it out.

It annoyed you, slightly. Din hadn’t mentioned anything about conditions before. As far as he and the other Mandalorians were concerned, you were the Manda’lor, and so you expected the warranted protection from them without question. And honestly, Din had thought that too. 

Din squeezed his eyes tight shut and tried to compose himself. He felt guilty, in a way. He could ask you this and even if you agreed, you could still hate him. And he really didn’t want you to hate him. He’d grown attached to you, and gained feelings for you, and it wasn’t ideal for a man of his nature, but it was just the way it was. You’d come into his and Grogu’s life and changed it completely. 

Maybe marrying you wouldn’t be so bad. You were kind and gentle and absolutely beautiful. And Din had considered settling down before. Maybe this was his moment. He just had to suck it up and go for it.

“They will protect you only if you join the creed… our creed,” Din informed you, taking a deep breath. You stiffened up, wondering what exactly this implication was. You could never join his creed. He was Death Watch, responsible for the war and murder of not only Mandalore’s civilians, but also your mother. “Since you were born into another creed, and you are not a foundling, the only way you can join the Watch is through eloping.” Din continued and you couldn’t contain the small gasp that fell from your lips. You watched as the Mandalorian fished out the beskar wedding ring and held it before you between his gloved fingers. 

“Are you… are you proposing?” you asked, feeling the tears well in your eyes.

“This is the way,” Din replied softly, and you had to force yourself to look away from the silver ring. “Please, please understand.”

“We… I…” you were speechless. Asking you to join his creed who you had spent your whole life despising (and for good reason) was one thing, but then asking you to be his wife as well? Those were two very separate ordeals that you were not expecting when you woke up this morning. “We’ve only just met…”

Din closed his eyes and sighed, preparing to face the rejection. “I know.”

“And I-- I can’t join your creed. I can’t. I can’t do it Din.” you pursed your lips together as you tried to hold back the tears. “Please don’t force me.”

“Hey hey, no, I would never force you,” Din shushed, stuffing the ring back into his pocket and taking a step closer to you, breaking any distance. He wrapped his strong arms around you and pulled you into his chest. “I wish there was another way, but there isn’t. The Armorer has made that very clear. If you refuse, then you’ll have to leave, and I won’t be able to help you anymore. I-- I don’t want you to leave…” Din admitted quietly and you swallowed.

“I don’t want to leave either.” you confessed, wiping away your tears and looking up at him. 

“It’s your call. But you have until nightfall.”

It wasn’t necessarily the marriage you had a problem with -- but how could you join a creed that you spent so long hating? A creed that had caused you so much distress and dismay. 

“The Watch has done bad things, and I can’t… I can’t. Din… you must understand.”

“I do,” Din said, taking your hands and sitting you back down. “My parents--my real parents--were killed by Separatists. It’s been thirty years and I still can’t think about it. They are my enemies, and to be asked to join them would feel like treason to my own bloodline.”

Obviously, Din had no idea why the Imperial’s had targeted a bounty on you. He had no idea why they wanted you so bad. But you knew exactly. The burden on your shoulders of being a runaway princess who was also pretending to be the Manda’lor was unbearable, but the knowledge of you being the Manda’lor was the only thing keeping Din by your side. If he learned the truth, he’d have no reason to protect you anymore. He’d leave you, just like everyone else had. And you couldn’t even blame him.

All you had to do was retrieve the darksaber once more and regain your right of passage to the Mandalorian throne.

“How can you just sit here and let them do this, let your creed do this? I get that they’re traditionalists but their actions have caused the onslaught of millions. They’re a danger.” you shook your head.

Ever since you had told Din of what his creed had done to your home and family, he’d thought about it, a lot. The process of leaving the Watch was never an option. They had brought Din up, trained him, and protected him. He owed it to them to stay. But if what you said was true, could he really stand and represent such a harmful community? He had a son to look after, and you. The last thing Din wanted was to get unbeknownst wrapped up in some terrorist organization he once called home.

He was grateful for the Watch, and the Armorer, but they had blackmailed him and gaslit him. He’d been so blinded by it all this time, brushing off their actions as ‘the way’ and knowing to never question it. But now it was all becoming more clear, especially after telling him that your protection relies on you joining their creed.

He understood how great it would be for the Watch if the literal Manda’lor became a member, but that didn’t mean it was right. Din’s delay in a response prompted you to speak up again.

“I’m sorry, this isn’t your fault.”

Din looked back up at you and tilted his head slightly as he admired your delicate features and tear stained cheeks. “Look, I shouldn’t say this, but as long as you pretend that you’re part of the creed and pretend to follow our rules, then there shouldn’t be much of an issue. We can utilize our warriors and get off Nevarro in one piece, and that should be our priority at the minute,” You nodded your head in understanding. He was right. “But we still need to elope. If you agree, the Armorer will bear witness and marry us tonight. And we can head out first thing tomorrow morning, before dawn.”

You bit your lip as you contemplated his suggestion. It wasn’t a bad call at all. It was simply just a negotiation. Din began to prepare himself to face another bout of rejection, but instead, you reached back into his pocket and took out the beskar wedding ring. Examining it carefully in your hands, you slid it down your wedding ring finger and held your hand to the candlelight, admiring the way it sparkled against your skin.

“Okay.” you hummed, not tearing your gaze from the ring. It was a symbol of commitment, although you certainly weren’t happy about it. What other choice did you have?

“Okay?” Din repeated incredulously. 

“Okay,” you said, eventually looking up at the Mandalorian and offering him a shrug of your shoulders. “I’ll marry you.”

An air of silence filled the room, but, just like always, it was comfortable.

“I’ll go tell the Armorer--” Din said eventually, straightening out his posture. He couldn’t get the image out of his head. You were going to be his wife.

“--Din?” you said before he could leave the room. He paused in his tracks but made no effort to turn around and face you. “Thank you. For everything.”

The guilt was eating you alive. You had been lying to him. He’d taken you in, done everything in his power to protect you, and even trusted you with his kid. And this entire time, you had been lying to you. He was going to marry you because he believed you were the Manda’lor.

And you weren’t.

That was going to be an issue.

When Din returned from his conversation with the Armorer, he informed you that the ceremony would take place at midnight. And that you were both to exchange vows.

“With all due respect, we barely know each other. Vows might be a problem,” you giggled, feeling a blush cross your cheeks from his presence alone.

“We’ll do the traditional Mandalorian vows, then.”

You weren’t really surprised, with his creed in particular being such traditionalists. It wasn’t a bad option, though. “Do you think… uhm… before the ceremony, we could spend some time together? Learning about each other? In the midst of all this chaos, I think it would be nice to just… talk.” 

Why were you so nervous? Clearly, Din was a man of a few words. He wasn’t one to just ‘talk’. But after this sacrifice you’d made, Din thought it was the least he could do. You were going to be his wife, after all.

“Okay.” Din mumbled, sitting down next to you.

“Uhm…” you felt your voice trail off as you wondered what you could ask him. “What’s your favourite colour?”

“Don’t have one.” He answered quickly.

“Everyone has a favourite colour.” you retorted, narrowing your eyes at him.

“Not me,” Din responded, and he was thankful in that moment his helmet shielded you from seeing the smile that graced his lips. He loved it when you pulled faces like that. He thought it was adorable. “What’s yours?”

“Uhm…” you thought for a moment, and then remembered the colour of your favourite and most delicious fruit. Sourberries. You hadn’t stopped craving them since the morning. “Pink.”

“Okay…” Din replied, storing that piece of information to the back of his mind as he pondered a question to ask you. “What was it like, growing up in a palace? Being royal.”

You and Din had led very different lives growing up, there was no doubt about that.

“It was all I’ve ever known. I recognise my privilege but… it wasn’t always easy.” you replied. You had never really talked about your experiences simply because you had no one to talk to them with.

“I remember when Duchess Satine died,” Din said, his voice quiet knowing that the mention of your mother might still have been sensitive. “Were you alone, after that?”

“Not really. My aunt looked out for me. And… there was this one Jedi Knight.” 

Now that was certainly something you had never expected to talk about. In fact you had been warned by Bo-Katan to never mention the relationship between your mother and that one particular Jedi. You couldn’t remember him clearly, but still to this day, you felt some kind of attachment to him. It was hard to describe. It was a type of unconditional love. He was always there for you and Satine, protecting you both. Similarly, it was just like how Din protected you and Grogu.

He never spoke to you, but when you needed him, he was there. You could always rely on him. You weren’t sure where he was now, or if he was even alive. It had been many years.

“A Jedi?” Din questioned, his curiosity piquing. He remembered what the Armorer had told him when he took in Grogu -- about his ‘kind’ being Jedi. About how they were enemies. Sorcerers. “Wasn’t there a war between the Mandalorians and the Jedi?”

“There was, yes,” you said, looking down at the floor. Din pulled off his gloves and took your hand. The skin on skin contact was enough to take your breath away. He rubbed comforting circles into your wrist as he waited for you to continue. “But my mother, like the Jedi, was a pacifist.”

“I wouldn’t say the Jedi were pacifists…” Din uttered a little too quickly.

“You have a point,” you replied after a brief moment of silence. “But this Jedi in particular… he was a good man. I wish I could’ve met him in my adolescence. I wish I could thank him.”

“Do you remember his name?” Din asked, his mind immediately thinking about the prospect of somehow locating the Jedi. If there was a way he could bring his parents back and thank them for all they had done, he would. This man was clearly a parental-like figure to you, and if he was important to you, he was important to Din.

“I don’t,” you shrugged helplessly, biting back more tears. “A few years ago I asked my aunt. I know she remembers but she just chooses to withhold that information from me. She tells me that she’s doing it to protect me.”

“I’m so sorry.” Din whispered, smoothing out your hair and pressing a keldabe kiss to your forehead. The coolness of his beskar helmet stung your forehead and, in that moment, you found yourself yearning for more.

You yearned to feel his body heat and the warmth of his lips. You yearned to see his face and memorize every detail. You yearned to tangle your fingers in his hair… you assumed that he did, in fact, have hair. 

At least now, you wouldn’t have to wait so long.

“I should get ready for the ceremony, and you should too,” Din declared, eventually pulling away from you completely. He dug into his pocket and pulled out the small sack of sourberries that he’d gotten earlier. “These are for you.” he said, putting the sack into the palm of your hand.

You loosened the straw ribbon and took a peek inside. It was the pretty pink fruit you had been craving for so bad.

When you told him you didn’t like the bone broth, he’d gone out and found you sourberries.

Even though he said they were far too expensive.

He’d done it for you.

Because he loved you.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

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[bookwrm99]

Sweet Dreams pt. 1

So, I've had to switch my medication recently for my anxiety, and it's been a bit rough. I normally have a bit of a problem with nightmares because of stress, but since starting Effexor it's been like... on steroids. One of my ways of coping with my mental health is writing, so I've started working on an Obey Me! series of short fics with each of the brothers comforting an MC who's been suffering from long-term night terrors as a medication side-effect. I debated about whether to post them or not, but ultimately I feel like if they can be comforting reads to someone else in a similar situation to mine, of course I'd want to share them! So, here's part one with Lucifer. Please know this is based on my own personal experiences with my anxiety and medications- mental health isn't one-size-fits-all, and everybody experiences it differently on all fronts. Not everybody will experience anxiety the way MC does in these fics, and that's okay! MC is not meant to be representative of everyone everywhere who has ever dealt with having an anxiety disorder- I personally think such a thing is impossible anyway. That being said, please practice good reader discretion if mental health is a hard topic for you- the last thing I want to do is harm someone else's mental health with my writing. I'll post specific trigger warnings just above the cut, so you'll know exactly what you're getting yourself into before you continue!

Now that the long disclaimer is out of the way... I hope that you enjoy this small fic series, reader! It was cathartic for me to write, and I hope they can bring comfort to others too.

Genre: Comfort with Lucifer x gn!reader (if you squint)

Word Count: 2.2k

TW: Mentions of anxiety and treatments, depictions of anxiety and nightmare aftermath, descriptions of nightmares

Lucifer was worried.

Not that he would admit to it. He was the Avatar of Pride, and as such he had an image to maintain. After all, just because someone fails to reply to text messages and calls- or does something out of their norm, like skipping breakfast- it doesn't necessarily mean there's something dire afoot.

Still, he couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. Lucifer tried to school his facial features into something close to neutral as his brothers fretted and discussed (Y/N)'s radio silence, and now their absence at breakfast. Mammon was the first to make a commotion about it, of course, causing the other brothers to slowly voice their own concerns about the resident human exchange student.

"I'm tellin' ya, it's just not like them! We ough'ta check on them. What if they caught some kind of weird human disease and died in their sleep?!" Mammon boomed out, fists clenched and resting on the table as he leaned forward over his plate.

"I highly doubt that, Mammon. I don't know of any human disease with such a quick onset and short incubation period before death. Still, it is a bit worrying. Should we make sure they're alright?" Satan, ever the voice of reason, spoke calmly, looking to the eldest to gauge his reaction to his question.

"Maybe they had a late start? I did suggest a new morning skincare regimen for them; maybe they've taken my advice?" Asmo practically crooned, no doubt preening at the thought of a small success with the exchange student- and probably thinking other impure thoughts related to them getting ready for the day.

"They need to make sure they eat. It's no good trying to learn on an empty stomach," Beel interjected, shaking his head and settling a hand on his stomach, clearly appalled at the thought of enduring that kind of experience.

Lucifer kneaded the small ache that had started to form between his eyes from his brothers' bickering and rapid-fire speculations. A sharp pain lanced through his skull from said place when Mammon brought his closed fists down on the table forcefully, rattling the dishes and forcefully pushing himself and his chair back.

"That's it, I'm checkin' on 'em! If all you guys are gonna do is sit around-"

"Enough, Mammon," Lucifer spoke, commanding the attention of all his brothers. A pregnant silence fell over the room as the Morningstar sighed, casually tossing his linen napkin onto the table beside his empty plate as he calmly pushed his chair back to stand. "I will check on them myself. The rest of you are to go about your days as normal unless you hear otherwise."

A couple of the brothers muttered angrily under their breath, but most seemed satisfied with the decision. Without another word, Lucifer strode from the room, leaving his brothers to clean up and be on their way to RAD.

When Lucifer reached (Y/N)'s room, his superhuman hearing picked up soft sniffles from within, heightening his concern about the human. He rapped his knuckles against the solid wood of the door, calling out their name gently but at a volume where he knew he would be heard. When he didn't hear them stir, and nobody came to the door, he resolved himself to intruding upon a potentially sensitive situation. "(Y/N), I'm coming in."

When he opened the door and took a couple steps across the threshold, he panicked a bit at first, not seeing any sign of (Y/N) in the room. Another small sniff allayed those fears, though, and he closed the door softly behind him, making his way into the space as he looked for the human. He finally found them curled up into a small ball on the floor in a corner of the room, out of sight of the door, their face pressed into their knees as they trembled.

The sight in front of him broke Lucifer's heart. (Y/N) had brought such brightness to his and his brothers' lives, showing them the utmost care and showering them with love they hadn't realized they were starved for. To see them like this- shaking with pent-up sobs and white knuckles as they squeezed their hands into fists- was a blow directly to the eldest's normally ice-cold heart.

"(Y/N)," he breathed, slowly approaching as if he was walking towards a frightened, injured fawn. His entire presence softened as he got down on one knee beside the upset exchange student, fighting the overwhelming urge to gently turn their face to his or pull them into his arms. "What's happened?"

(Y/N) shook their head, their arms tightening around their knees. "It's stupid. I'll be fine. Please don't worry about me- I'll be down for breakfast soon."

Lucifer's face pulled down into an even deeper frown at their words, bothered that they were so quick to invalidate themself and push comfort away. "Well- that's why I'm here. Breakfast was over an hour ago, and my brothers are worried about you."

(Y/N)'s head shot up at that, and for the first time Lucifer got a good look at their flushed, tear-stained face. "God- I'm so, so sorry, I didn't mean to worry anybody- I'm such a burden-"

Lucifer made hushing noises, and unable to restrain himself anymore he sat fully on the ground, pulling the human into his arms as they hiccupped and began to sob. When they didn't push him away and began leaning into him, he tightened his hold, rubbing small circles into their lower back as their tears soaked his left shoulder, all the while murmuring soothing words in their ear. After what seemed like a small slice of eternity, but what in reality may have only been fifteen minutes or half of an hour, the exchange student's tears slowed, then stopped altogether, though silent sobs continued to wrack their smaller frame.

Lucifer lifted his head from where he had rested it on top of theirs, leaning back slightly to see their face as he gently tilted it towards him. Red eyes looked back at him, glazed with exhaustion and something else he couldn't quite pinpoint. Reaching up with a gloved hand, he gently cupped their face in the palm of his hand, wiping away the tears he could reach with his thumb.

"You aren't a burden, (Y/N). You go out of your way for myself and my brothers, doing things nobody asked of you to lift us up and make our lives easier. We've needed somebody like you for a long time now, and if anything we are a burden on you. We worry about you because we care." Lucifer broke the silence, his voice gentle but leaving no room for argument. "I won't push you into telling me what's wrong... but if you would like to talk about it, I promise I will do everything in my power to make things right."

Their eyes wavered, then shifted to the side, a frown continuing to mar their beautiful face. "Lu, I... it means a lot to me for you to say something like that. I just... I don't think there is anything you can do, or anybody for that matter, and not for lack of wanting to."

(Y/N) paused for breath, and Lucifer waited, sensing their internal debate about disclosing their struggle to him. Finally, they sighed, sagging against him as if all the strength had just left their body. "You saw my file," they said flatly, their head against his chest. Lucifer tightened his hold around them once again, pressing his face to the crown of their head and making a small sound of affirmation.

"Did it say anything about my anxiety disorder?"

Lucifer paused. Yes, he had noted that there was a mental health condition in their profile- generalized anxiety, with therapist notes stating it had a strong social skew- but it had never come up in conversation with (Y/N) before, and with how bright and happy they usually were, he thought they might be in remission- either that, or managing it extremely well.

(Y/N) continued on before he could answer them. "Barbatos has been making sure I have my medication- which is great, since of all the SSRIs I've tried it's the only one that seems to help level me out. But, the bad thing is... my doctor didn't tell me that a lot of people experience nightmares while on it, and ever since I've started it, it seems like I'm having them almost every single night." They paused for breath, their entire body tensing up, and Lucifer began to soothingly stroke their bicep with his thumb, where his hand had settled after they shifted. "Most of the time they're really vivid and... weird? Like, I had a nightmare a few nights ago that I was leading an expedition into the far North back in the human realm, and just as we were about to reach an Inuit settlement I got lured over the side of the boat by sea monsters and drowned... which has absolutely no relevance to my life experience. Obviously. But in the moment they're so scary-" They shuddered, then continued, almost as if they couldn't stop themself now that they had started speaking. "And then other times they're those really vague ones- like, running away from something through a deep forest at night, and suddenly you're falling off a cliff. But then there's, like, maybe 25% of them that actually are relevant to me- some of the worst periods and moments of my life- and those-" They almost choked on their words at the end, and Lucifer squeezed gently, worried they might start crying again.

When they stayed silent, Lucifer spoke. "How long has this been going on?"

There was a pause before the human answered, as if they knew he wouldn't be happy. "Since before I was brought here."

Lucifer was shocked. The exchange student had been here for several months already, and he was only just now hearing about this? Another pang lanced through his heart, wondering how many other mornings they had spent like this, and he deeply regretted the thought of them spending so many nights tortured by their own mind, all alone.

"You should have come to me sooner, (Y/N). You didn't have to suffer in silence." Lucifer's tone softened the words, and he again leaned back to get a look at the expression on the exchange student's face.

"I didn't want to be- troublesome. All your brothers have their own commitments and things they do, and you especially have so much on your plate. I didn't want to disrespect anybody's time."

Just when Lucifer thought things couldn't get worse, they did. He could hear their fear of being a burden, even with their carefully chosen words. The exchange student had put themself through months of agony, all because they hadn't wanted to trouble him. The revelation deeply disturbed him. A handful of months was nothing in a demon's life, just a blip, but for a human? That was a very long time.

"You are incredibly important, to all of us. Your struggles are never a waste of our time, even if you feel they're insignificant." Lucifer spoke firmly, trying to put every ounce of the conviction he felt into his voice. He reached up again to gently turn the human's face towards him, meeting their eyes with his own crimson ones. "Please, don't put yourself through something like this again. If I can bring even a small amount of the comfort you've brought me back to you, I would move the heavens to do it. Promise me."

Their eyes glimmered, and their bottom lip trembled. "I promise," they almost whispered, their voice choked up.

Lucifer impulsively brought his face closer to theirs, softly placing a chaste kiss on their forehead. The exchange student sniffled, bringing their hands up to wipe at their face.

"I will talk to Solomon and Satan about any potions they might know of to combat your nightmares. In the meantime, please come find me in the event that they wake you up in the middle of the night. I'm no stranger to night terrors."

When they acquiesced, he smiled, satisfied. "Now, get dressed. I'm informing Lord Diavolo that we're taking a personal day off- no buts." He spoke, already seeing the protest in their eyes and on their lips, which had parted on the start of a word. "We'll do whatever you want. My treat."

Their brows furrowed. "Won't you get in trouble?"

Lucifer stood, bringing (Y/N) up with him. "Not if I'm doing it for the exchange student's benefit. I'll give you ten minutes while I make the call." The softness the Morningstar had displayed was now gone, replaced with his usual composure as he began walking towards the door, fishing his D.D.D. out of his pocket as he moved.

"Lu?"

He paused at the door, turning back to look at the human. Their eyes were glimmering in the dim light of the room, arms wrapped around their waist. Lucifer thought they were about to cry again until he recognized the sheer gratitude in their expression.

"Thank you, for this- and for everything."

Lucifer showed a soft smile, just for them. "Anything for you, (Y/N)."

[subbing-for-clones]

The Alpha and The Omega Part 4

Alpha Maul x Omega Reader

Word Count: 4.6k

WARNINGS: Cursing, Mentions of death (bounty hunting), mentions of drinking to be done in the next chapter, reluctant pining

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        Maul had stayed in the cockpit much longer than it was necessary, allowing autopilot to guide the Wolf through hyperspace. He was silently obsessing why you had felt the need to call another hunter; another Alpha. He couldn’t explain to himself or anyone else who would be stupid enough to ask why this upset him so much. He remembered what Zeni and Coth had said; Bane got you into the guild and the both of you had traveled around together for a bit over a year, long after your membership had been established with the house. He had been told that you were unmated but he couldn’t stop his mind from wondering if a close comradery was all you had shared with the Duro. The thought left a sour taste in his mouth.

    He eventually left the cockpit when he smelled something in your pheromones change, not being able to place it exactly, he ventured out. When he found you, he almost smirked at the sight before him. One he hadn’t ever seen before. The mighty lone Omega had buried herself completely in his sofa bed under the blanket she had lent him. Every few seconds her hand would dart out to snatch a piece of jerky from a plate on the nearby table and pull it under the blanket.  

    He slowly approached; mind set on taking some of the food for himself but he stopped in his tracks when a low growl rumbled out from the mess of fabric. He took a step back until it subsided. Warily he took another step forward and outstretched his hand earning a second growl that he was sure humans wouldn’t normally be able to make.

    He had become familiar with some of the cultural dynamics of the cross subspecies but as for the specific habits and instincts, he was uneducated to say the least. Equally confused as he was humored, he took another step back, gauging the perimeter around you that you suddenly required. He finally decided what the smell you were giving off was; aggression. But not outwardly so, a defensive aggression. One that said back the fuck up, so he did; not without poking the proverbial bear though.

“I understand that this is your ship, and everything in it belongs to you. However,” he watched as you peered out from your wrap, “we have six hours before we reach Hoth and I would like to rest.” He didn’t really need to. He had and could again go, days without sleep. However, he was not one to avoid getting under someone’s skin when the opportunity presented itself.

    You eyed him carefully with your eyes narrowed. Finally, ‘the bitch’ gave up for a moment so that you could understand his reasoning. With a huff, you stood with his blanket still wrapped around you and grumbled nonsense under your breath until you reached the door to your room. You glanced over your shoulder just long enough to catch his confused gaze before you turned and entered your sanctuary. Ignoring how he sniffed the air in the path you had just walked. You locked your door and turned on the incredibly dim colorful lights and pressed a remote that played soft music. You continued to grumble about stupid inconsistent cycles. It wasn’t a full-on heat like you normally experienced, more like a nagging annoyance in the back of your mind, dulled needles underneath your skin.

    After trying several different placements for the blanket saturated in his scent you finally found one that ‘the bitch’ was satisfied with. Clamoring into your vast array of blankets, pillows and other various soft things you settled in its center and closed your eyes; preparing for the tremors that you were convinced would come. Just as you got comfortable, your vambrace started beeping and an obscenely offensive red light blinked in time with the wretched noise. Growling audibly, you reached for your table and strapped it on to your wrist, violently pressing the answer button.

“Fucking. What?” your teeth clenched so hard they could crack.

“Last I recall you’re the one who wanted to talk. Had a question or something,” the Duro’s head lit up in that blue only holo-comms could emanate. You pinched the bridge of your nose and scrunched your eyes shut apologetically.

“Sorry. Yeah, yeah I do,” you opened your eyes slowly and looked at him, almost hoping he could just pry the information out of your head so you wouldn’t have to say it out loud.

“Well, you gonna ask or what ‘Meg?” he folded his arms across his chest already tired.

“So, I’m sponsoring an Alpha who didn’t know what he was until a few months ago…” you started, hoping that either Zeni or Coth had filled him in in the few days that you’d been gone.

“Heard something about that. I know the guy, did a job with him back before I picked you up. Something about a captured Jedi he wanted to hunt. Didn’t talk much.” Your eyes widened at the new information. “You haven’t told anyone about that bit, have you?”

“The fuck do I look like kid?” he was almost offended at the implication that his lips even held the ability to flap. Even if they could they wouldn’t. The sigh that escaped you was exasperated in your relief.

“So, what about him. Is he fucking with you?” his eyes narrowed further and the last word came out as a protective growl.

“No, no he’s fine but I’m not.”

“’Meg if you don’t start speaking plainly, I swear to Maker I’ll find and kill you both.”

“He smells…. Different. Intense. More so than any other Alpha I’ve ever come into contact with,” you chuckled, “even more than Fett.” His eyes widened and he thought for a moment before responding.

“When was your last cycle? Has he triggered another one?”

“I mean maybe a week or so ago? I wouldn’t call it a new one, feels different. Lighter? ‘The Bitch’ is talking more in my ear and I’m starving. Like, fucking famished.” He nodded with his fingers on his chin looking off to the side.

“Where are you right now and where is he?”

“On the way to Hoth.”

“No, I mean on the ship. Where are the both of you?”

“Oh, I’m in my room; doors locked. He’s in the common,” you glanced at the door like it was possible he could’ve manifested on your side of the durasteel door. The force could do some crazy shit but teleportation wasn’t on the list as far as you knew. Even for a Sith.

“Good. You’re not gonna like the answer ‘Meg. Don’t shoot the messenger,” your eyes snapped back to his projection, waiting for him to continue.

“Someone always smells best, stronger. Mine did, Coth and Zeni got that. Not everyone gets it or waits long enough to find it but I’d put five quarries’ credits worth on the fact that that guys’ your Alpha.”

“W-what? No, that story’s bullshit. That’s not real, is it?” He growled slightly angrily in his response.

“I said.. I fucking had it. It’s why I can’t ever have another. Don’t doubt anything cause you’ve never known it before. Like me saying your Jedi force shits fake. Ignorance I can handle ‘Meg; arrogance I won’t put up with.”

    You couldn’t respond. This is not what was supposed to happen. You were going to live your life as the lone Omega, ‘Meg the hunter. Live your life in solitude only occasionally coming to the surface to socialize with your pack members to stave off the inevitable loneliness.

“Sorry, no you’re right. I just, don’t want that? I guess, you just shocked me was all. I didn’t mean to offend you or your Omega.”

He visibly relaxed and sighed as he rubbed his head under his hat.

“Do what you gotta do. Whether that means scenting him, mating, kicking him out now, or waiting till you finish what you started with him. You don’t need to explain yourself. But that’s my best guess to your question kid.” You nodded and stared off for a moment away from the door. You thanked your old friend for his time and his insight before hanging up and rolling over and failing to find rest as the tremors started.

      Maul truly had no clue what had crawled into your skin and possessed you. He wondered for a moment if some cousin to Dathomirian magick had made its way into the ship before shaking his head. That would be ridiculous. He had grabbed another of the no less than what guessed were a thousand blankets from the shelf and laid back. He didn’t really try to eavesdrop but when he recognized the voice that was speaking to you, he bristled. He only caught a few words while he passed, faking a trip to the fresher should you be able to feel him through the force. On his way there he realized that you were in fact as affected by his scent as he was yours and that it wasn’t necessarily normal.  On his way back he couldn’t hear your words but it sounded like you had received some information that you really didn’t want to hear.

    The pheromones that you gave off were those of fear mixed with frustration and anger. He wondered how long you would’ve lasted as a Jedi if they hadn’t thrown you out. Despite his bitterness the overwhelming urge to comfort you assaulted his every sense. He pushed it down with a snarl at himself before stalking back to the cockpit trying to put some distance between the heady smells.

    He must have watched you eat at least three pounds of the dried meat hastily while gearing up to venture out onto the frozen wasteland. A small part of him wanted to ask what all this was about with you but the larger part of him knew it wasn’t his business unless you made it his business. He settled for simply asking if you were alright. You threw a sarcastic ‘perfect’ over your shoulder before throwing yourself out into the blizzard.

    You had yet again, not permitted him to bring his saber. Jabba usually wanted a head over a warm body but bodies couldn’t pay their debts, and this particular Talz owed him big. He had thought it worth the expense to make an example himself out of this smuggler. Maul was just as frustrated as he had been last time but was silent about it, much to your personal relief. You were in no mood for argument and he no doubt could sense it.

    He had landed the ship just outside a large cavern, the tracking fob blinked rapidly, signaling that the one you sought was close by. As you entered the cave you had expected to run into a Wampa or two. Bones of different creatures varying in size had alluded to it being home to one of the creatures. What you had not expected was to walk right into an onslaught of blaster fire.

    Maul had force pushed you roughly to the ground a couple meters away from your position; landing you behind a large enough boulder for you to take cover behind. Cautiously, you looked to the side through the bolts to find him taking refuge along the wall behind stone that jut out from the wall with his blaster pointing to the circling, looking to you for approval.

    You took a flash grenade out of your utility belt, hit the countdown button and tossed it; taking cover before the blinding light filled the cavern. It must have been cheaper to hire guns than pay Jabba, six humans doubled over covering their faces allowing you to take a few shots. After putting down three yourself fairly quickly you looked over at your companion again. He was firing alright but not hitting a damn thing.

“I thought you said you were ‘quite familiar with other forms of weaponry!’” you shouted over the returned fire in a slightly mocking tone.

    His response was only to look at you with wild, angry eyes that made you double over laughing in the thick of the standoff. You rolled your eyes and shook your head. You raised your blaster and took out two more, leaving one man and your quarry. You turned to face Maul and crossed your arms in your seated position behind the boulder smiling toothily at him, nodding your head to the last man.

    It took him a few shots but he managed to hit the hired gun square in his chest. You missed the glint in his eye but felt his pride through the force before he covered it again and chuckled to yourself once more. You could see the Talz shaking as he raised his blaster in his trembling hand as he slowly backed up. You pulled out your blow gun and loaded one of your tranquilizer darts. The long needle glinted ominously in the low light of the cavern, Maul watched as you took a deep breath and bring the long tube up to your mouth and wrap your lips around it. The dart flew with a short huff of breath as the Talz turned to run; striking him directly in his spine.

    The toxin took hold before the quarry could take another step, dropping to the floor with a thud and a grunt. You stood from your position and made your way over to the first of the dead body guards. Maul went to bind and secure the smuggler while you scoffed at the small number of credits you pulled from the dead’s pockets. They really didn’t get paid shit, and they died for it. You almost felt bad for them; now wasn’t the time to get soft though. They took the job and they paid the price for it, just like you risked each and every job you took. No different from the rest of the pack.

    You handed Maul half of the measly amount and one of the better blasters that one of the men carried. He hoisted the Talz onto his back and raised his brow at you before taking what you had offered.

“I told you half of what we make is yours. This falls under that category despite the fact that it’s not technically a bounty prize, I don’t go back on my word once I give it.”

    He nodded his head in thanks and followed you back to the ship. Once the smuggler was frozen in the carbonate, you led him back to the cave. He watched as you dragged the bodies of the fallen gunmen to various positions and distances. You made your way back to him and when he opened his mouth to speak you raised your hand to cut him off.

“That was a fucking atrocious display if I’m being honest. Mildly disappointing if I’m being kind,” he snapped his mouth shut with a quiet clink of his teeth. “You can’t bring your saber to the higher paying jobs, as I’ve said, too many witnesses. Do you want to pick off the bottom of the barrel, cheap thieves for your career?” he crossed his arms and glowered at you.

“No, but what would it matter if I only go after those who are wanted dead?” you jut out your hip and rested your hand on it while rolling your eyes.

“You allow yourself to wield a crutch. What if you’re attacked in public? The longer you play the game the more likely it is to happen. You going to flash your pretty red blade and take out an entire town to maintain secrecy or are you going to be smart about it?”

    He growled at your logic and took out the blaster you had plucked off of the corpse. You watched him take a few rushed shots before snarling to himself at all of his misses. You silently walked over to him and kicked the insides of his ankles lightly to widen his stance and kicked one of his heels to push it forward a few inches. He allowed you to but not without a glare. You pulled out your own blaster and demonstrated how with your dominant hand you gripped it tightly, pointer finger lined up with the barrel. With your other hand you held your palm to the bottom of the grip and wrapped your fingers around both it, and your other hand to stabilize it; bending your elbows slightly and raising the sights to your eyes.

    He followed your movements with the accuracy of a mirror. You didn’t speak until you saw him close one eye to aim, “both eyes open, its more accurate,” you demonstrated again and fired your blaster a single time, hitting the furthest target square between his eyes.

    In only three shots, Maul had hit two targets square in the chest, knocking them over. You backed up and watched him practice. It was slow going but after resituating the corpses he knocked over multiple times he had started to get consistent hits on them. When you were satisfied with his progress you lifted a head sized rock with the force and moved it side to side a decent distance in front of him. Moving targets were always a different game compared to stationary ones and the victorious glint in his eyes when he landed a single shot took you back a few years to when Bane was teaching you to shoot.

    The twin suns were beating down on you harshly in the desert that stretched out as far as you could see in any direction. The sand here was what water is to the ocean, swallowing up everything in its path. The durasteel of the ship was growing hotter and hotter by the minute under your belly and you could hear Bane curse under his breath. You didn’t have to see him on the ground below you to know his eyes were pointed in the same direction as yours, the massive skeleton of a creature you couldn’t name even if you tried. Hopefully they were extinct or at least, nowhere in the area. It lay against the horizon three hundred meters away, unscathed by your attempted blasts.

“Bane, it’s really hot up here. Can’t I come down and try again tonight?”

“Hell no, next job ‘m gonna need you to cover me from ‘nother building ‘Meg. Either you’ll hit the target or melt onto my ship tryin. Focus, the scope is doin all the hard work for you. Breath like those Jedi taught you over so many years. Take the shot when you let your breath out. Closest thing I ever come to meditation is behind the scope and you’ll do the same now until you make your mark.”

    You had taken his suggestion to heart and waited before your next shot, breathing deeply and slowly. Sweat pooled on your forehead before gathering enough to drip down your face and streaming between your breasts as the minutes ticked by. Bane was silent as you focused your shot. With one last deep breath you slowly let the air out of your lungs and squeezed the trigger. You looked through the scope again and saw that you had indeed scorched the beast just below its eye socket like you had been instructed to do. You leapt to your feet and whooped unceremoniously in your gleeful victory. You cast a prideful look down at Bane who never turned to look at you.

“You can come down after you do it five more times.”

    Your shoulders sagged and you audibly groaned, the skin on your belly getting ready to blister from the hot hull of the ship. You could have sworn at the time you had heard your literal and figurative cold blooded companion chuckle.

      You smiled at the memory as you now spoke the words of your mentor to an all too full of himself Zabrak after he hit the floating rock a single time. “We can warm up in the ship after you hit it five more times handsome.” Just as yours had, his shoulders visibly dropped but he said nothing and carried on his target practice.

    When he had accomplished the goal you laid out for him you had reached your limit in the frigid environment. When you left the cavern, the air whipped around you violently while a vicious flurry burned the exposed skin of your face. Snow had piled up even deeper around you and a thick white blanket shielded your view. You hit a button on your vambrace to open the hatch that both you and the Zabrak scurried inside. You shivered wildly as you stripped out of your already soaked outer layers. Blizzards always caught you off guard on Hoth, you hated the planet for a plethora of reasons and would take a planet like Tatooine over this frozen wasteland any day if you had the choice.

    By Maul’s body language you assessed that he would as well. His jaw was clenched yet his body still shook of its own accord from the cold. You set a pot on your stove, readying it to brew life-saving hot caf. While the water boiled you had taken first dibs in the sanistream. Under the hot water you thanked whatever gods were responsible for staving off whatever kind of ‘light heat’ you had experienced. Maul barley waited for you to fully exit the fresher before he was stripping off his tunic an indulging himself in the shower just as you had. You bit back a chuckle while you made your way to the cock pit with steaming caf in hand. You watched the blizzard from the safety and heat provided by the combination of durasteel and trans-durasteel walls of the Wolf, allowing your mind to wander.

    You had never really been a caf drinker when you were a Jedi. Your master couldn’t drink it and most of the others you surrounded yourself with looked down on the drink despite filling themselves with various teas like your old friend. You had always teased Obi Wan for loving the sugary flowery varieties over any else. Like with many other things it was Bane who introduced you to the dark ‘life sustainer’ as he called it. He laughed at how you scrunched your face up the first few times you drank it but after thirty-three hours awake steaking out a quarry you needed the boost to function.

    Your eyes rolled to the back of your head when you downed the last of your cup and you sighed at the chore of walking the six meters to the kitchen to pour yourself another cup. Like he could read your mind, and he probably could, Maul’s hand extended from behind you and took your mug. He returned a few minutes later, two steaming cups in hand, and took his seat in the co-pilot’s chair. The two of you continued to watch the snow storm in a comfortable silence.

    The quiet was broken by an incoming holo-comm. You always found the beeping to be unnecessarily jarring when the air was still. Maul simply leaned back in his seat while you answered it, the top half of your favorite Mandalorian appearing in the familiar blue hue, you grinned cheekily at the man who had half-heartedly tried to court you on multiple occasions.

“Mando Fett,” you teased, “What’s up?” His helmeted head lowered slightly in a silent sigh but your companion quickly caught his attention and he straightened his back again.

“Heard you were rolling around with another Alpha.”

“Mmm, yeah, some of what Zeni spills is the truth. Or at least half true. Heard you were the one who gave him the card.”

Maul nodded his head once in greeting to Jango who returned the gesture.

“Yeah, I did.”

“So what’s going on? Need a hand getting out of a sticky spot or do you come with holo-roses this time?” you leaned back and put your feet up on the dash, taking another gulp of caf while waggling your eyebrows at your fellow bounty hunter.

“Neither actually,” he chuckled, “I know how you love a good hunt and I’ve caught word that the Jawas on some back water planet are offering an unusually high price for Mud Horn eggs. Plus their horns always fetch a nice price, someone’s always ready to buy the hides. I figured I’d extend the invitation to you and your cold-blooded outlaw friend. New guy can come along too of course. What do you say, wanna go have some from away from the office?”

“Hmm,” you animatedly tapped a finger to your chin, “the promise of a good hunt, decent credits and you bring the beer, what’s the catch?” you smiled coyly.

“First off, bring your own booze. Secondly,” he unsheathed a large viroblade, “I say we make it interesting.”

“No blasters?”

“No blasters.”

“You’ll have to pry Bane’s from his cold dead hands.” Jango laughed loudly, “please, he’s not just a gunman, he’s an alpha. All I have to do is poke at his pride a bit and he’d take a few down with his bare hands and his teeth just to put all us younglings in our place.”

You laughed this time and turned to your tattooed companion, “what do you say? Wanna take a break from chasing quarries and go on a hunt for a day or two? It’ll still get you credits.”

    Maul took a second to glance around the cock-pit and looked at all the pictures that had been taken from various hunting parties and for the first time in his life he actually had the want to experience something like that. Yes, he had battled and defeated an array of fearsome monsters but it had always been a solo operation and for only the benefits of getting stronger and proving his worth to his master. It seemed like his new peers viewed such acts as a time to be enjoyed and remembered, the promise of credits was an added bonus as well.  

“Alright, a day or two wouldn’t put us behind schedule, would it?” his velvety yet raspy voice that you hadn’t heard in hours cut through you like a lightsaber and you caught your whimper in your throat but not without creasing your brows in annoyance.

“No it wouldn’t. you’ll just be stuck with me a little longer.” He shrugged his shoulders in response so you turned your attention back to the image of the other hunter.

“Alright, we’ll be there. Send me the coordinates. We’re on Hoth at the moment so we’ll be there in however long it takes to meet you leaving from here.”

“I’ll wait just for the sake of missing your complaints of taking a head start.” You couldn’t see his face but you could hear the smile in his voice. You pointed a finger gun in his direction, “head start or not I’ll still bag more eggs and more horns than you.”

The both of you laughed as you hung up the call right before the transmitted coordinates synced in your nav computer. Three Alphas, one Omega, and a promising hunt. This is going to be really fun or go horribly wrong. Either way, you’d get some good pictures out of it.

Taglist:

@thundersheild

@gotham-city-uber-driver

@scorpioxsith

[5-falsehoods-phonated]

You Don’t Own Me (You Don’t Even Know Me)

Chapter 3

Summary:  As the son of a Baron, Roman Sanders always knew that when he married, it would be due to a political arrangement rather than true love. Still, when he is sent away to marry an older, more powerful Earl, he is determined to make the best of his situation. Despite the Earl’s indifference towards him, Roman forges ahead and prepares to become the best husband he can possibly be, making new friends along the way. But when his fiancé’s demeanor turns from cold to cruel, Roman must shift all of his focus to survival, and find a way out of his marriage before it’s too late.

Ships: Logince (Logan x Roman)  Moxiety (Virgil x Patton)

Content Warnings: arranged marriage, abuse, attempted sexual assault, murder, poisoning, character death, hurt/comfort, angst

Chapter Warnings: none

Word Count: 2689

Read on AO3: here!

Cowritten with @ironwoman359 masterlist

False masterlist

A sharp knock pulled Roman from a fitful sleep, and he groaned, cracking open one eyelid.

“Who is it?” He called blearily. 

“Patton, sir!”

“Come in, then,” Roman said around a yawn, and Patton entered the room. 

“Good morning Lord- Roman!” He said, quickly correcting himself. “I trust you had a good night’s sleep?”

“I've certainly had worse,” Roman admitted, stretching. “Do you need something?” 

Patton nodded, clasping his hands behind his back. 

“His lordship requests that you meet him at the stables this morning for a ride around the grounds. New riding clothes and boots should be in your wardrobe.” 

Roman raised an eyebrow. Three days of near pretending he didn’t exist, and now Lord Howard wanted to take a romantic ride around the grounds together?

 “Very well, I will be ready shortly,” Roman said, then he frowned as Patton turned to leave. “Patton, wait…”

Patton paused, looking back at him. Roman hesitated for a moment, but the housekeeper had said anything he needed...

“Could I...that is, do you know what happened to my clothes? The ones I brought with me, I mean?” 

Patton’s face twisted in sympathy. 

“Oh, um...well, I...” he looked away, and guilt flickered through his eyes. “Mrs. Wakefield, she...she told me to burn them.” Roman’s eyes widened, but Patton quickly continued, “I didn’t, though! I snuck them into the laundry when she wasn’t looking...I was planning on taking them down to a charity shop in town when I could get an afternoon free. It...it didn’t feel right, to have perfectly good clothes like that thrown out when someone could still use them.” 

Roman sucked in a breath. “There’s one thing,” he said quietly, leaning closer. “A cloak, torn at the hem, is it...do you think I could get it back?” 

Patton glanced behind him, as if Mrs. Wakefield herself might suddenly materialize in the room. 

“I...if Lord Howard sees you wearing it, I-“

“I won’t wear it,” Roman promised. “And the rest of the clothes, you can go ahead and give away. I don’t want any trouble, I just...I don’t want to lose it for good.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” Patton said, and Roman smiled.

“Thank you, Patton, I’m truly grateful. Now...I must admit, I don’t quite know my way around the estate yet. Would you be able to show me to the stables?” 

Patton perked up at that, his face splitting into a wide grin. 

“I’d be absolutely delighted to!” 

Patton stepped out for a moment to let Roman get dressed, and then he led him through the halls of the manor. Roman did his best to memorize the layout as they went; the estate technically was his home now, and he wanted to know it like the back of his hand. Patton led him outside through a set of double doors set with frosted glass and onto a meticulously kept gravel path. As they walked, they passed by an immaculate flower garden and what looked like the entrance to a hedge maze before reaching what Roman assumed were the stables. 

Lord Howard was already there waiting for them, dressed in smart white riding pants and a tailored vest. Two men stood beside him, each holding the reins of a horse.

“Ah, good morning Lord Sanders,” the Earl called, and Roman bowed his head in greeting. “Come, let me introduce you to my stablemaster.” 

The shorter of the two men beside him bowed. 

“Joseph Acton,” he said. “I am at your service, my lord. And this is Angel, and her handler, Virgil.” He gestured at the taller man, who held the reins of a snow-white mare. 

Roman nodded to both stable hands, then reached out to pat Angel’s nose. 

“She’s lovely,” he said, smiling at Virgil. 

“She’s yours,” said Lord Howard, and Roman’s eyes widened. 

“I- really?” 

“Indeed,“ said the Earl. “I trust you can ride?” 

“Yes, I can,” Roman said. “I- you are too generous my lord, thank you.”

Lord Howard gave him a short bow, clearly preening at the expression of gratitude, and Roman smiled to himself as he took Angel’s reins. This may not be quite the marriage of equals he had always hoped for, but it didn’t mean he was unprepared for his situation. 

A man like Garret Howard had wealth and power to spare, and everything he did would be in service of either acquiring more or showing off what he had. If Roman wanted to improve his standing with him, he first had to stroke the man’s ego. So as they rode through the grounds, he oo’d and ah’d at the impressive landscaping and architecture, when asked how he was finding his stay at the estate so far he gushed about the size of his rooms and the quality of service from the staff, and at every opportunity, he brought the conversation back to Lord Howard, allowing the Earl to not-so-subtly boast about the size of his estate and investments. 

When they circled back around to the stables, Lord Howard swiftly dismounted his horse, and gave Roman a nod. 

“Thank you for your time this morning, Lord Sanders. You of course have free reign of the estate. I have much business to attend to today and cannot be disturbed, but I do hope you will join me for dinner this evening?” 

“Of course, my lord,” Roman said with a smile. “It would be my pleasure.”

Lord Howard snapped his fingers and Acton hurried forward to take his horse’s reins. 

“Until this evening, then,” said the Earl, and then he turned and left without another word. 

Acton gave Roman a quick bow before leading Howard’s horse away, and Roman glanced around. He didn’t see the other stableboy anywhere nearby, so he steered Angel towards the stables himself. As he drew nearer, he finally spotted the tall, dark haired boy who had first handed him Angel’s reins leaning against a fence post and talking to Patton, of all people.

“Virgil! Get to work!” snapped Acton, and Patton jumped, guilt flashing across his features. The stablehand, Virgil, rolled his eyes, but stepped forward towards Roman, ducking his head and holding out his hands for the reins.

“Apologies, my lord,” he said lowly, and Roman flashed him a reassuring smile.

“It’s quite alright, sir,” he said as he dismounted. He glanced up to make sure Acton wasn’t listening, then added quietly, “and you may just call me Roman, if you wish.” 

Virgil’s eyebrows quirked up in surprise, and he glanced over at Patton, who smiled and nodded at him. 

“Alright then, Roman,” Virgil said. “How was Angel for you?”

“Oh, she was excellent. Weren’t you, girl?” Roman asked, patting Angel on the neck. “You deserve a whole barrel of apples for doing such a good job!” 

“I do have some sugar cubes saved back at the stable, if you’d like to give her some,” Virgil said slowly, almost warily. 

“I’d love to,” Roman said honestly, and Patton’s face lit up. 

Virgil nodded to himself, as if coming to a decision, then he turned around, tugging gently on Angel’s reins.

“Come on then, her stall is this way.” 

Roman and Patton followed Virgil into the stables, which housed around a half-dozen horses. Virgil led them through to Angel’s stall, then gave them all sugar cubes and baby carrots that they took turns feeding to the mare while he removed her bridle and brushed her down. 

Roman held out another handful of treats to Angel and glanced at Patton. Patton was stroking Angel’s nose, but the soft smile on his face was clearly directed more at her handler rather than the horse itself.

“So...you two know each other well?” Roman asked. Virgil looked hesitant, but Patton nodded, a sheepish smile on his face. 

“When I started working here, I didn’t know anybody...and, um. I’m sure you’ve noticed that the senior staff can be...”

“Assholes?” Virgil grumbled, and Patton laughed nervously. 

“That’s, um, a strong word for it.” 

“Not necessarily inaccurate though,” Roman said, and Virgil blinked, clearly surprised. 

‘Well, suffice it to say, I had a little trouble fitting in at first!” Patton interjected. “But Virgil was actually nice to me, helped me find my feet, and we’ve been friends ever since!” 

Roman raised an eyebrow; based on the way that they looked at each other, he’d have guessed they were more than just friends...still, he wasn’t about to pry.  

“Pat, it was great to see you, but I don’t want you to get in trouble,” Virgil said. “You should get back, before Wakefield gets wind of where you’ve been.” 

“He should be fine, as long as he’s with me, right?” Roman asked quickly. “Since he’s my attendant, if I ask him to accompany me somewhere, that would supersede any other duties he has.” 

“I mean, yeah, probably,” Virgil said. “Still, you don’t know how Wakefield can be...I don’t wanna risk you getting in trouble.” 

“And I don’t want to risk either of you getting in trouble, so we’ll make sure we keep our visits on the short side,” Roman said. 

“Our...visits?” Patton asked, tilting his head to the side.

“Well, as my attendant, it’s essentially your job now to accompany me around the estate, right?” Roman asked. “It just so happens that I love horses, and taking walks around the grounds, so Mrs. Wakefield can hardly blame you if you end up spending more time than you used to outside the mansion.”

“Oh!” Patton said, his eyes widening. “Oh, Roman, you don’t have to do that if you don’t want to…”

“I do, though,” Roman said honestly. “It’s no trouble. And Angel is a sweet girl who deserves all the extra sugarcubes in the world, aren’t you?” he added, patting the horse on her neck. 

“Alright, if you’re sure,” Virgil said. “But you two should still probably get inside now, I don’t need Acton on my case again.” 

“Okay,” Patton said, quickly pulling Virgil into a hug. “I’ll see you later!”

Virgil looked embarrassed, but he hugged Patton back and waved to him and Roman as they exited the stables. 

“What else would you like to do today?” Patton asked Roman as they headed back inside. “Lord Howard takes dinner at seven thirty, so you have quite a bit of free time until then.” 

“Hmm...well perhaps you could give me a tour of the mansion?” Roman asked. “I believe there are several wings I haven’t even seen yet.” 

“Absolutely!” Patton said. “Follow me!” 

Roman was happy to do just that, and the two of them spent nearly an hour wandering through the house, Patton pointing out various features as they went. Roman’s head spun at the sheer size of the place; it was nearly unbelievable that just one man could own so much. At midday, Patton left him to arrange for lunch, and Roman found himself wandering the corridors alone. He decided to try and find the library again and turned around, only to collide headfirst with someone hurrying down the hall.  

“Oh goodness, I’m so sorry!” he exclaimed as the person went sprawling, papers flying everywhere. “Here, let me help.”

Roman got to his knees to help gather the papers up, pausing when he saw just who he’d bumped into. 

“Oh...it’s Logan, right? Again, I’m so sorry, I wasn’t paying attention at all to where I was going!”

“It’s quite alright,” Logan said, getting to his feet and pushing his glasses up on his nose. “For once, I was not heading anywhere in a particular hurry, I merely intended to take my lunch in the library.” 

“Oh, I was heading that way too!” Roman said. “Or at least, I was trying to find it. Is it alright if I walk with you?” 

Logan shrugged.

“You may do what you wish, Lord Sanders.” 

He resumed his walk down the corridor, and after a moment, Roman followed, glancing around to ensure none of the other servants were nearby before he leaned over and spoke quietly. 

“Roman.” 

“I beg your pardon?”

“You may just call me Roman, as long as we aren’t around somebody who might get upset with you for it.” 

“Is there a particular reason you prefer not to be called by your proper title?” Logan asked as they reached the library, and Roman shrugged. 

“Formality has its time and place,” he said.

He paused and opened the library door, gesturing for Logan to enter. After a moment, Logan did so, heading towards a small table beneath a window, and Roman followed. 

“However,” he continued, “I’ve found it more beneficial in the past to be on more personal terms with members of my staff. Everyone is free to be at their best when they aren’t spending half their energy worrying about decorum.” 

“Members of your staff?” Logan repeated as he sat down, and Roman nodded. 

“So unless you have your own objections, I really don’t mind if you call me Roman,” 

Logan regarded him for a moment, then tilted his head forward slightly. 

“Very well then, Roman.”

Roman grinned, and sat down opposite Logan.

“So, tell me about what you do! Lord Howard called you his business secretary, what duties does that entail?”

“You...want to hear about my work?” Logan asked, sounding puzzled. 

“Of course!” Roman said. “Lord Howard has been...busy, lately, and I haven’t had much time to learn about everything that goes on here at the estate yet. I was hoping you would be able to fill me in, if that’s alright of course?” 

“I...suppose there is no harm in that,” Logan said slowly. “Though I’m afraid you won’t find what I have to say very interesting. My job mostly entails keeping track of paperwork, creating and distributing documents, managing the taxes paid to the estate as well as balancing the earl’s personal finances-” 

“All that, and he calls you a secretary?” Roman interrupted. “That’s the work of a manager, if not a full business partner!” 

“Yes, well” Logan cleared his throat, and shuffled some of his papers around. “Lord Howard would likely benefit from having a manager or business partner...however, he prefers to handle all matters that fall under his responsibility personally.”

“Or have you handle them,” Roman finished, and Logan gave him a wry smile. 

First Previous Next

“Or have me handle them,” he agreed.

“So Lord Howard trusts you, then?” 

“I would not use the word trust, ” Logan mused. “Rather, he knows I am capable of my job, and expects me to perform it to his satisfaction. Much of the day to day of running the estate falls to me, leaving him free to speak directly with other nobles and officials. I give him a report at the end of each week, and we discuss what expectations are for the next week.” 

“Would I be able to get a copy of those reports?” Roman asked. 

Logan raised an eyebrow. 

“Technically those documents are for the Earl’s eyes only. What would you even do with a copy?”

“All my life, I’ve been preparing to run an estate,” Roman said. “And now I’m getting married in six months, but I’m not sure the Earl even realizes I exist half the time. I don’t want to just sit around and twiddle my thumbs and not even know what’s going on under my own roof. I want to actually do something.” 

Logan watched him for a long stretch of time, and Roman wondered if he’d made a mistake, confiding in the man. Would he refuse Roman’s request? Would he tell Lord Howard what Roman had asked for? What would the Earl do if he found out Roman had requested confidential reports without his permission? 

“In all honesty, the Earl pays very little attention to what I do,” Logan said, pulling Roman from his spiraling thoughts. “As long as the numbers match up to what he expects. I should have no problem creating a second copy of my weekly reports, if you truly wish to see them.” 

Roman grinned. 

He had a feeling he and Logan were going to get along just fine.

Previous     Next

[olliedollie1204]

Set it Up

Or, how Oluwande got Jim their job.

Fandom: Our Flag Means Death

Characters: Oluwande, Spanish Jackie, Jim

Words: 1,580

Additional Tags: Pre-Canon, canon typical violence, Jim's deadname is used as they're not out yet but they're not misgendered bc I love them.

Read on AO3 here!

“Hey, Jackie, uh, ma’am,” Oluwande said as he stepped into the bar’s back room. “Um, you wanted to talk to me?”

Jackie hummed, chewing her dinner as she gestured for Oluwande closer to her table. “Oluwande. Come here.”

He stepped forward, cautious and wary but trying not to show it. When he got close, Jackie held up one finger as she chewed. For several agonizingly long seconds, Oluwande’s eyes were locked onto her wooden pointer finger, held in the air like a warning against any sudden noise or movements, until she finally swallowed and spoke.

“Listen, I need someone to take these receipts over to Murder-Hands Mike,” she said. “Should only take about an hour. Just head down towards the docks ‘til you see his sign out front—”

“Um.” Oluwande’s eyes were like saucers. “Sorry— ‘Murder-Hands Mike?’”

Jackie paused and fixed him with an unimpressed stare. “Yeah.”

“... Why do they call him that, do you reckon?”

Jackie scoffed, waving her knife and fork around in the air. “I dunno, I guess he murders people with his hands? Here, just—”

She put down the fork and pushed a pile of papers bound with twine across the table. After a moment, Oluwande gingerly picked them up.

“Just drop these off with him to prove that I paid him already,” she continued, going back to her dinner. “He might have some goons around, but just tell ‘em Jackie sent you, and they probably won’t kill you and use your skin for a jacket.”

“Uh, right,” Oluwande replied. “Got it.”

“Be quick about it, and if he gets an attitude, just cut his nose or ears off or something, tell him I’m terminating our business relationship— oh, and try not to get murdered by his hands, okay?”

“Yeah, I’ll do that, chief. You got it.” He nodded, turning to leave, but stopped just before making it to the doorway. A few seconds passed as Oluwande stared at something out in the bar, and he abruptly turned around again.

“Um, quick question!” he blurted, bravely ignoring Jackie’s scowl. “Did you… did you interview some folks for a waitstaff position?”

Jackie sucked her teeth. “Ugh, yeah, Geraldo did. He swears it’ll make things flow better if people don’t have to wait at the bar to order? I dunno. Think I’ll tell him to shut it down.”

“Shut it down, like…” Oluwande said. “Like you’re not hiring anymore?”

Again Jackie looked at him. Slowly, she set down her fork again, keeping her knife in her hand.

“That’s what I said,” she replied coolly.

Oluwande’s eye darted to the knife for just a moment before continuing. “Okay, well, um, I think… I think I know one person you should consider taking on?”

“I don’t care what you think,” Jackie shot back. “I don’t pay you to think. I told you to take those receipts to Murder-Hands Mike.”

At this point she brought the knife up closer to her face, idly turning it over with one hand as she pinned Oluwande with her gaze. Every spin of the blade made Oluwande talk faster and faster.

“Right, no, I will, I just— I think Geraldo’s right? And, uh, I think— maybe there’s some good candidates for the job out there? So— so maybe, you know, you might wanna— reconsider hiring—?”

The tip of the knife stabbed into the table just as the last word fell from Oluwande’s mouth. He flinched, less from the noise of splintering wood and more from the sight of candlelight reflecting off of Jackie’s rings and the steel blade.

The seconds ticked by in silence.

“Stop ending your fucking sentences with question marks,” Jackie finally said, hard and stern, but not necessarily unkind. “Say what you want to say to my face.”

Again, several moments passed where the only sound to be heard was the mass of voices floating in from the bar.

Oluwande inhaled deeply. He nodded, and finally looked at her.

“There’s someone out there named Bonifacia who needs a job,” he said. “Needs money.”

Jackie scoffed. “We all need money.”

Oluwande nodded, chewing his lip, then said, “I said I’d talk to you.”

“Talk to me? About hiring them?” Jackie replied. She didn’t bother to hide the exasperation on her face as she sat back in her chair. “Olu, what?”

“Just hire one person!” he said, stepping closer and clasping the bundle of papers to his chest like a prayer. “Cheaper than hiring loads, better than hiring none.”

“You do not tell me what is better for my business,” Jackie snapped. “No one tells Jackie what’s better for her business, because Jackie’s business—”

She stood up, knocking her chair back and snatching her knife from the table. Immediately she was in front of Oluwande, the knife poised against the side of his throat, ready for the kill.

“Is Jackie’s fucking business,” she finished with a sneer. Behind her, her upturned glass dripped beer onto the already filthy floor as Jackie and Oluwande stared each other in the eyes.

Every inhale made Oluwande’s throat graze Jackie’s blade, but he did not try to move away. He looked at her, sweat beading on his forehead and his joints locked in place, but he looked at her.

“I’ve worked for you for a long time,” he said softly. “I’ve never asked you for anything. It was stupid of me to speak on behalf of you, I know, but I wanted to ask you for this one favor. I’ve never asked you for anything, but I’m asking you for this.”

Jackie stared at Oluwande. Looked deep into his eyes.

Then she pulled the knife back, glancing down on it and buffing the blade with her thumb.

“It was fucking stupid of you,” she admitted. Oluwande released his breath. His grip on the stack of papers in his arms got just a little bit looser.

“You’re good people, Jackie,” he responded simply. “You don’t like to act like it, but you are. When someone does you an honest day’s work, you pay ‘em back, and you don’t screw people.”

She gave him a smirk. “Not unless they screw me first.”

Oluwande smiled back, but there was a nervous twinge to it; before Jackie could say anything about it, he continued, “Bonifacia could really use your help.”

Jackie sighed, long and hard. She stamped the heel of her boot against the ground for several seconds.

“Do not ever do this again,” she finally said, pointing at him with her knife. “And no more favors. We’re not friends.”

Oluwande nodded so fast he nearly snapped his neck. “Yeah, no, absolutely, ma’am, I understand—”

“Shut up,” she said. “What’s the name?”

“Bonifacia. Bonifacia Jimenez.”

With a sigh, Jackie shouldered past Oluwande and pushed her way into the bar.

“Bonifacia Jiminez!”

The room fell as silent as it could as the sound of Jackie’s voice shut down every other voice in the place. Everyone looked at her, even the drunks who were too pissed to stand; some of their faces were filled with reverence, others filled with fear, but there was one person…

One person, sitting against the farthest wall, their back pressed against the wood. Simple clothes, a long dark braid cascading over their shoulder and down their chest. The rim of their hat was low, but Oluwande could still make out the dark, dark eyes that peered out at Jackie— and at him— from underneath.

Those eyes were filled with opportunity.

Jackie’s gaze locked onto theirs, snapping and pointing across the crowded bar. “You’re hired.”

Oluwande wondered if time stood still for anyone else in that moment: him next to Spanish Jackie, Jackie pointing at the mysterious stranger across the room, and stranger looking into Oluwande’s soul.

Then some poor bloke threw up on someone else’s shoes, and the world sped back to its normal speed.

Jackie made a disgusted sound, jerked her head at Geraldo and sent him scurrying off for a mop.

“Anyone else here for the job, fuck off,” she called out again. “And you—”

She turned back to Oluwande, scowling and pointing towards the door. “Murder-Hands Mike, now.”

“Yes, ma’am, thank you, ma’am,” Oluwande replied quickly as he scurried away from her. He knew it looked like a retreat, but frankly, that’s what it fucking was, because he was pretty sure no one had ever stepped to Spanish Jackie like that and lived.

He was so distracted by the thought of his near-death experience, in fact, that he didn’t notice the lean figure walking in his direction. Their head was bowed, so it made sense that they didn’t see him either. Still, they moved seemingly on instinct to avoid colliding with Oluwande in favor of brushing uncomfortably close to his side.

“Sorry, mate—” Oluwande started, only to find himself staring into the face of Bonifacia Jimenez.

For one moment, Oluwande felt the tips of that long braid graze his forearm, just as surely as he felt those eyes boring into his once again.

Then the figure slipped past him, their eyes sliding off of him without a moment’s hesitation as they moved to join Geraldo behind the counter. Oluwande didn’t break his stride, either, instead heading directly out the door. As calm and as cool as if he couldn’t have cared less about the person he’d just bumped into, the person just stood up to Spanish Jackie for.

But the look in those eyes… Oluwande carried that look with him for the rest of the night.

[mrs-tsunderemeitantei]

Recently, the author Gosho Aoyama has claimed that the ending of Haibara will be " Surprising" for everyone ?? What does that mean ?? It is not clear if it is a bad or good ending !!! Do you think that Haibara will never come back to her adult form as Miyano Shiho and stay as a kid.. and make a relationship with Mitsu ?? And if Haibara take the permanent antidote.. do you think that she will be punished and jailed since she was a member of BO?? or she dies in the end ??

Oh good God there is a lot to unpack here but thank you for your questions and I'm soo glad you brought them up! I’ll try to answer them as best as I can 😄

So yes, Gosho did say Haibara’s ending will surprise everyone but I also remember him saying Detective Conan’s ending will be happy. Not to mention Haibara is a veryyy popular character (if not the most popular female character on the show), so I find it hard to believe that she’ll just end up being killed off. I don’t think Gosho would do that to us.

Now when it comes to her remaining as a kid, I kind of talked about how I feel about it here . In short I believe she deserves to regain control of her life as Shiho and not remain as Haibara. Also this fan comic about Shiho explaining to Shinichi why she didn’t want to remain as Haibara is beautiful in every way and I think you should take a look at it. 

But to add to that, I refuse to believe she’s willing to remain as Haibara. Whenever people say she’ll get a chance to relive a proper childhood it irritates me 😂 I mean she’s still mentally an adult. I cannot imagine having to always act like a child, go to school and relive high school (diabolical if you ask me) when I’m mentally grown up. 

Personal opinions aside, there is one moment where it was hinted she’d be willing to stay as Haibara.  In the movie Captured in her Eyes she basically said she'd love to stay as Haibara IF she lost her memory. This is not canon and she did say after that she was joking but she tends to "joke" when she actually means what she says.

But since then, Haibara’s character has grown significantly. And these developments ⬇️ have me believing she's most likely going to take the antidote.

Jodie interpreted why Haibara refused the witness protection program was because she found a family in her friends. So with that logic, shouldn't that make sense for her to stay as Haibara? Ummm not really. She didn't just stay for the friendships, in fact she was so moved by Ayumi's words that she realised she has to face her fate and keep fighting. If she doesn't take the antidote, she's basically accepting what she was forced to become because of the organisation without facing her struggles and embracing her past. She'll technically be running away from her true self and erasing any link she has to her family whom she loves so much.

And tbh if Gosho decided she should lose her memory and remain a kid, I’ll be extremely disappointed. That would be a very poor and rushed ending and all her character developments would have been for nothing. Also I don't understand why some people equate her returning as Miyano Shiho to her cutting off the detective boys from her life. If anything, she'll probably continue living with the professor who she now looks up to as a father figure, while still remaining close and looking after the detective boys.

Now for the relationship with Mitsuhiko, I just can’t see how that can happen. He is a child for God’s sake! No matter how smart or responsible he is, he is still a CHILD. And whenever people say she should be with Mitsuhiko it makes me wonder, do they expect it to happen right now when she is still Haibara or are they saying when they eventually grow up? The first one is no way because she’s mentally an adult and he is a child and that is a crime waiting to happen. The second option means she’ll stay a child and I already expressed how I feel about that. Also I hate to break it to the AixMitsuhiko fans but Haibara loves all the detective boys like her younger siblings. She is the older sister / senpai of the group and she’s never displayed any romantic feelings for Mitsuhiko, nor do I think she’d develop them in the future simply because she views him as nothing but a baby brother.

Now on to the juiciest question that you asked, “Will she be jailed because she was an ex BO member?” I have a lot to say on this so please bear with me😁 

We now know that Rei was planning on handing her back to the BO in the Bell Tree Train arc (see here). Thankfully, that didn’t happen thanks to Conan’s big brain thinking making Rei believe that Shiho died. Now, he is yet to meet Haibara and discover the truth about her (I cannot wait for this to happen!) but when he does, this is how I imagine things will go down: 

He’ll despise her because he’ll think of her as a criminal who worked for the BO and developed a deadly drug. However, he won’t be able to hand her back to the BO since he was the one who confirmed her death. Handing her back would only have the BO question his credibility / loyalty and possibly jeopardise his future there. Therefore, he’s left with one option; take her into PSB custody and interrogate her. But, there’s no way Conan, the Kudo family and even quite possibly Akai would just stand aside and not intervene. At the same time, I doubt Rei will simply believe her if she said “she was forced to make a poison” (even Conan didn’t believe her when they first met). So how will he back off? These are my theories: 

I feel the tapes Elena recorded packed way more than just the drug’s true purpose. She may have also recorded what the organisation forced her and Atsushi to go through. And with the fact that Vermouth seemed to blame her animosity for Shiho on her parents, it is quite possibly Elena mentioned Vermouth on the tapes. If Haibara brings up those tapes and Rei heard them, first of all he’ll get closure (because he loved Elena as his own mother) and finding out about Vermouth’s link to the Miyanos, he can investigate them more. I don’t think it’ll be difficult for him to uncover the truth about her family especially since he knows Vermouth’s secret and that couldn’t have been easy.

If Haibara doesn’t bring up the tapes, I think Akai will step in by asking Rei to hand over Vermouth (since she’s an American citizen) if he wants to take Haibara. Rei would never agree to that because Vermouth provides him with invaluable help and support in the organisation, so he’ll be forced to let Haibara go.

And for my final theory, just like how the Kudo family struck a deal with Rei to work with Akai (I reeaallly want Gosho to reveal what their talk was about), they’ll probably do the same thing to protect Haibara and in time, Rei will learn the truth about her past. 

So basically in the end, I don’t think she’ll be arrested. I’d like to think once Rei learns the truth about her and her family’s past, he’ll be relieved to have received closure (because he loved Elena so much) and subsequently decide to protect Haibara. Also Gosho hinted Rei and Haibara will eventually get along so the probability of her being arrested is low.

Haibara’s ending is something I’m really looking forward to and I’ll be crushed if she isn’t given the ending she deserved (there is plenty of room for her ending to be ruined so fingers crossed that doesn’t happen). I picture her returning as Shiho, staying with the Professor, slowly warming up to Mary and Sera (I can’t begin to imagine how she’ll feel when she finds out they’re related) and maybe even go on to be a narcotics agent. Why narcotics agent? (All explained here ). When it comes to her love life, God knows what will happen, but the Mitsuhiko pair is highly unlikely to happen. Also, I don’t see why she has to end up with someone. Her happy ending doesn’t necessarily mean she’ll be with someone. In fact...

Having a family and friends she cares about. 

Being free to live her life without constantly looking over her shoulder

Confronting Gin for killing her sister and whatever history they shared (I’m so mad GinxSherry has fizzled out without being answered. I need to know the truth about their past!!)

Finding peace and accepting her past

....are all enough reasons to give her the happy ending she deserves to have.

I hope this long speech helped answer your questions 😂. I honestly enjoyed writing it so, thank you so much for letting me do this 🖤😁

[btsqualityy]

Heaven Sent; Part 1

Jin x Reader

Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort

Warnings: Minor character death (nothing explicit or descirbed though), grieving families 

Nothing felt necessarily different when you woke up this morning. You woke up in the same bed that you had been sleeping in for the past 6 years, in the same tiny house that you had fallen in love with years prior. You went through your shower routine as usual, and the same happened when you did your makeup and hair. You even struggled to wake your daughter Aera up this morning like you always did, because she loved to sleep in just like her daddy. By all accounts, it was a normal morning.

Except it wasn’t, because today was the day that you were burying your husband and Aera’s father.

“Mommy?” Aera called and you hummed in reply as you put the finishing touches on her ponytails. “Are you almost finished?”

“Just about,” you sighed heavily, grabbing two black ribbons and taking the time to tie each of them around the bases of the two ponytails that were in her hair. Once you were done, you picked Aera up and sat down on the edge of your bed, settling her in your lap.

“We need to have a serious talk really quick, ok Love?” You told her and she nodded her head. “You know how Daddy has passed away and how I explained it to you?”

“Yeah,” she mumbled softly.

“Well, today is going to be the last time that you see him for a long time,” you said and her face instantly bunched up. 

“Not even when I’m a big grown up?” She wondered and you shook your head sadly.

“No, not even then,” you replied as you reached up and brushed back the baby hairs that framed her face. “But I want you to know that it’s ok to be sad or cry if you want to, and that you don’t have to be strong for me or anyone else.”

“Are you going to cry Mommy?” Aera questioned and you smiled sadly, choosing not to lie to her.

“Yeah I am, because I’m sad,” you nodded.

“Ok,” she agreed easily and you hugged her tightly, your chest tightening at the thought of what was to come.

........................................................

The actual service wasn’t that bad, which is something that you had anticipated. It wasn’t until you watched Hae-il’s casket being lowered into the ground that you finally broke down, and it took both your father and Hae-il’s father to haul you away while Aera sat in your mother’s lap, sobbing into her chest. 

After everything was said and done, Hae-il’s parents held a small dinner back at their house and family and friends appeared to offer you their condolences.

“I’m so sorry Y/N-ah,” Yoongi whispered, holding his arms open and you immediately fell into them, hugging him firmly as you hooked your chin over his shoulder. You and Yoongi worked together at the same interior designing firm, and you had been at work with him when you had gotten the call that Hae-il had been involved in a horrific car accident. Yoongi, as well as Taehyung who was another of your coworkers, went with you to the hospital where you found out that Hae-il’s injuries were fatal. 

“How are you holding up?” Taehyung asked after giving you a quick hug as well, and you shrugged lamely.

“I’m barely holding it together and that’s only because of Aera,” you confessed, taking a second to glance across the room, where Hae-il’s mother Eun Ae was trying her hardest to get Aera to eat something. “This is so fucked up for her.”

“Hey, don’t leave yourself out of that,” Yoongi said softly. “You lost someone too.”

“I know but it’s different for her,” you sighed. “She’s so young, I don’t think she really understands even though I’ve explained it to her the best that I know how.”

“It’s gonna take time Y/N-ah,” Taehyung said and you just hummed in reply. Suddenly, you heard a loud squeal and you whipped your head to the side to see Aera sliding down off of Eun Ae’s lap and running across the room. Your eyes followed her to the front door and your eyes widened when you saw Kim Seokjin standing there. 

“Uncle Jin!” You heard Aera cheer, her squeals bouncing throughout the house as Jin picked her up and hugged her to his chest. 

“Guys, give me a sec,” you said and after receiving a nod from Taehyung and Yoongi, you turned and walked over to the door.

“How are you, little heart?” Jin asked Aera and she shrugged her shoulders.

“I’m sad,” she answered truthfully and you saw Jin sigh heavily before nodding his head and gently patting her back with one of his large hands. 

“That’s ok, because today is a sad day,” he told her. He then looked up and saw you walking towards him, and the same sad smile that had been on everyone else’s face whenever they talked to you today was now on his face as well.

“Hi Y/N,” he greeted you and you did your best to smile, leaning forward and giving him a quick one-armed hug. Jin and Hae-il had met in university, becoming close very quickly and remaining as such throughout the years. You had of course met Jin several times but with him living in Japan overseeing the chain of restaurant that his father owned, you and Hae-il rarely saw him over the last 3 or 4 years. He was Aera’s godfather though, and he loved her almost as much as you and Hae-il did. 

“Hey, I didn’t see you at the service,” you muttered and the sad smile on his face turned apologetic. 

“My flight was late so I only caught the tail end of it,” he explained. “I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s ok. Besides, Hae-il knows how much you cared.”

“I’m so sorry for your loss Y/N,” he said, and it looked like tears were beginning to form in his eyes. However, he quickly recovered and continued. “You guys meant so much to Hae-il.”

“Thank you,” you nodded. “There’s food and stuff here, so feel free to help yourself.”

“Alright.”

“Aera, why don’t you come with me so that Uncle Jin can eat?” You suggested as you reached out for her but she shook her head and snuggled further into Jin’s suit jacket. 

“Wanna stay,” she muttered.

“It’s ok Y/N, I got her,” Jin told you and you raised an eyebrow.

“You sure?” You checked.

“It’s no problem. Besides, I missed my favorite girl,” he smiled, leaning down and kissing the top of Aera’s head. “Did you miss me, little heart?”

“Lots,” she whispered and Jin gave you a small nod as if to say “I told you so” before stepping around you and walking towards the kitchen. As you turned around to watch them, your mother walked up to you. 

“Are you hungry Y/N?” Chae-won asked and you shook your head. “I can make a plate for you if you want.”

“I’m not hungry Mom,” you replied. 

“You sure? I haven’t seen you eat anything today.”

“I’m fine,” you stated firmly and the tone of your voice showed your mom that you didn’t want to keep talking about it, so she let it go.

“Who was that man carrying Aera just now?” She wondered instead.

“That’s Kim Seokjin. He and Hae-il have been close since University and he’s Aera’s godfather,” you explained.

“That’s the uncle Jin that she’s always going on about then,” your mother chuckled. “He must be great with her, because he’s the first person that she’s let hold her today besides us and Hae-il’s parents.”

“He loves her,” you confirmed. A few seconds of silence passed between the two of you then before your mother sighed heavily, and you already knew what she was going to say.

“Y/N, I really wish you would reconsider our offer to let you and Aera move in with us for a while,” Chae-won said. 

“No.”

“You’ve never had to raise Aera alone before and it’s going to be a tough adjustment,” Chae-won continued. “You’re gonna need the support.”

“Maybe so, but I can’t and won’t rip Aera away from the only house that she’s ever grown up in,” you explained. “So much has changed so fast for her, and I don’t want to make any of this harder than it needs to be. Besides, that’s the first house that Hae-il and I bought together and you’re crazy if you think that I’m going to leave it now.”

“Y/N, that’s not what I was trying to-” your mother began to say but you didn’t stick around to hear the rest of her sentence, walking off as you felt the anger coursing through your body. You understood your mother’s intentions, but you also don’t think she understood exactly what it was that she was suggesting. Your house was the place that held the most memories of Hae-il and you would be damned if you were going to leave it now; not when you needed it the most.

........................................................

Once the dinner was over and everyone had left, you took Aera back home to get her ready for bed after the long day. You wanted to keep everything as normal for her as you possibly could, so giving her a bath and struggling to get her to brush her teeth the way that she should went on as they always had. 

“Mommy? I have a question,” Aera told you as you helped her into her bed, pulling her covers back and watching as she climbed inside before sitting on the edge next to her. 

“Yes?”

“Does Daddy love me?” She asked and your eyes widened. 

“Of course he does,” you nodded. “Why would you ask me that Aera?”

“Because he left us and it hurts,” she told you. “You said that if someone loves me, then they wouldn’t hurt me.” You sighed heavily, realizing that your previous attempts to instill some self-worth into your five year old were now backfiring horribly. 

“Well sometimes, people hurt us even though they don’t mean to or want to,” you began. “Daddy didn’t want to leave us and if he had been able to choose, he would’ve stayed.”

“Really?” Aera’s tone sounded doubtful as she asked.

“Really,” you confirmed, thinking for a few seconds before deciding to try a different tactic. “Do you remember what your name means?”

“It means love,” she chirped. “That’s why you call me Love and Uncle Jin calls me little heart.”

“That’s right baby,” you smiled. “Did you know that your daddy chose your name?”

“He did?” She whispered in awe.

“He did and do you wanna know why?” You asked and she nodded her head up and down rapidly.

“Why?”

“Because he loved you as soon as he knew you were in my tummy,” you revealed and her eyes widened.

“That was a long time ago,” she muttered.

“It was,” you chuckled. “So even though we can’t see Daddy anymore, he’s still sending you lots of love.”

“Ok,” she agreed, all of what you said seeming to make sense to her. “I miss Daddy, and his hugs.”

“That’s ok to miss him,” you assured her. “And how about anytime that you want to hug Daddy, you come hug me instead?”

“Really?”

“Really,” you confirmed and you didn’t have time to prepare yourself before she sat up and launched herself into your arms, wrapping her little arms around your neck. You hugged her back, making sure to squeeze her tightly the same way that Hae-il would. “I love you Aera.”

“I love you too Mommy,” she said as she let go of you.

“Alright, lay down and go to bed, ok?” You told her and she nodded, laying down and you pulled the covers over her. Once she shut her eyes, you leaned over and kissed her forehead before reaching over and turning on her nightlight. You then stood up from her bed, walking over to the door and shutting the light off. Making sure to leave the door slightly ajar so that you could hear her if she needed you, you made your way down the hallway and into your bedroom, the length of the day beginning to weigh down on your body.

By the time that you had showered and took your makeup off, you didn’t have the energy to do anything else but flop down onto your bed and pull the covers up and over your head. You felt yourself beginning to drift off and you happily welcomed it, until you smelt a familiar scent.

Your eyes popped open and then widened when you realized that Hae-il’s pillow was right in front of your face. You had been very careful to avoid it over the past week, not wanting to make things any harder for yourself. This time though, you allowed yourself to drag the pillow towards you, burying your face in the material and inhaling deeply.

“Damn it Hae,” you whimpered, the tears quickly welling up and spilling over onto your cheeks. “Why did you have to leave us?”

[allisoooon]

Klaus, Addiction, and CodeBendency Part Three | The Dependent: Relapse

I want to look at Klaus’ arc in season two.  A lot of people disliked this arc because they believe it undid all the progress he made in the first season, or made a joke of his arc.  This is not true.  In fact, it’s a harmful view.  A relapse doesn’t necessarily mean starting from square one.  It doesn’t mean you have to go back to the start of the trail and walk the whole thing again.  A relapse means straying off the path—you can find your way back without going back to the beginning.  It does, however, suck, because the first few days and weeks of sobriety feel like years and there’s many a time when I’ve considered drinking again only to decide I just don’t want to go through the early days all over again.  Relapse is incredibly common and often considered part of recovery, not that that’s a reason to go ahead and do it.  But addicts who relapse often get treated like they’ve thrown away any progress they’ve made on themselves and they’re back to being the person they were at the start, when it’s important for their loved ones to be understanding and support them as they get back on track. Being treated like a failure only discourages them from getting back on the wagon.

Remember addiction isn’t a lifestyle.  It’s a coping method.  A maladaptive one, but still.  Going back to a bad coping mechanism doesn’t mean you might as well have never stopped doing it in the first place.  Truly, it just happens sometimes.

Here’s a secret about the twelve steps that somehow hasn’t made it into the mainstream: you don’t get to step twelve and consider yourself done.  Recovery isn’t going from point A to point B.  There is no finish line.  We’re all stumbling around trying to find our own way forward and we, being humans, tend to fuck it up.  Then we lose our way and we have to remember step one: we are powerless against the thing we’re addicted to.  We originally stopped fucking with it because we cannot moderate it.  And after a while of feeling in control of ourselves, we can forget that the only way forward is to cut ourselves off from it completely.

That being said? Klaus’ relapse could have been worse.  Alcoholism is not less dangerous than drug addiction, causing more deaths per year than all drug overdoses combined in the U.S., but Klaus has not yet gone back to drugs.  Withdrawal can be deadly if he drinks enough, but he doesn’t have to worry about his gin being laced with fentanyl.  Moreover, he sought Allison and talked to her about what made him relapse.  This is actually a huge deal.  Addicts deal with a loooooot of shame (don’t let Klaus’ act fool you), which leads them to self-isolate, which leads to loneliness and depression, which leads to more drinking.  The fact that she asked him what happened is also important, since the most prominent feature of a dysfunctional family is a lack or breakdown of communication, which all of these siblings share.

But most of all, most viewers won’t know why this relapse happened or why it was practically inevitable, going so far as to overestimate the amount of progress Klaus made to begin with, and that’s where I’m going to talk about what people in AA call a “dry drunk.”  At the end of season one and for the first half of season two, Klaus is a dry drunk, or someone who has stopped using their substances, but who has not replaced them with anything better.  Rather, he has transferred his addictive behavior to something else that is also unhealthy—namely, attention.  It seems like a running issue in this family that everyone either mistakes attention for love, or thinks they cannot be loved and attention is the closest thing they can get.  I think Allison and Vanya are the former while Klaus strikes me as the latter. Once Klaus tires of all the attention due to it not being as fulfilling as real love, he leaves, and a vacuum reappears in him that will shortly be filled by alcohol.  Let’s peek at the scene where this happens, mostly as an example but also because I love the song “Renegade” and this is a great excuse to listen to it while I transcribe this.

Ben: It’s not too late, Klaus.

Klaus: Oh, I think we both know that it is! (here Klaus is making excuses, embracing his learned helplessness and denying responsibility before he has even started drinking).

Ben: You really want to throw three years of sobriety out the window? (a fallacy—three years of sobriety don’t suddenly mean nothing just because of a relapse, but Ben is aware how hard it is to get sober for the first or tenth time because he went through it with Klaus)

Klaus: In case you didn’t notice, the last three years have been a royal shitshow! (because other than not drinking or using, he did not actually try to change his mental state for the better)

Ben: And this is only going to make it worse! (true—once you are drinking, you are no longer in control)

Klaus: Maybe! Let’s find out. (pretending he doesn’t know Ben is right)

In order to actually get sober and stay sober, he has to be willing to work on the issues that made him start using in the first place, and he’s not even willing to acknowledge those things, let alone work on them.  His relapse doesn’t signal that he has lost progress so much as it shows how an addict who stops using but hasn’t added anything else to their life hasn’t made as much progress as people think.  He needs a hobby.  He needs more than one friendship.

His cult doesn’t count.

No, seriously.  His cult was just another way for him to get high. Then the feelings of self-loathing and shame caught up with him.  I mean, look at his first scene with Keechie and tell me he doesn’t feel more guilty than boosted when he’s adored by him.

Credit: Circumstellars

It’s not just the cult he was running from, it was this.  The cult no longer gets him high.  It just reminds him of what a terrible person he is.  Running is a major theme of this season.  Every character is doing it to some degree.  Hell, it’s why Five’s plans for saving the world were doomed to fail—they were all about fleeing 1963 before they could cause the apocalypse. The world was only saved when they turned around and helped the person who kept causing the end of the world. Facing, not running.

By the end of season one, Klaus started to see his powers as, well, empowering, whereas before, he’d seen them as a curse.  That gave him motivation to get sober for his own sake and took care of one major reason for his addiction (the fear of his powers).  It still left the emotional reasons for his addictions unaddressed, the ones related to the abuse he endured.  He was still running from those.  To really make progress, he needs to be willing to feel terrible for a while as he confronts how much pain he is in and works through trauma he’d rather pretend doesn’t exist.  He needs to build new habits and develop new coping skills.  Specifically, he needs to learn self-management of his emotional dysregulation and grounding techniques for emotional distress.  And that’s fucking hard.  It’s so much easier to drink when you’re in distress, especially since he was never taught a better way growing up.  He missed out on that being built into his development.  I’m sure he heard what group therapists parroted in rehab, but your gut reaction to that shit is that it’s like fighting a house fire by spitting at it.  Thing is, coping skills take time to develop, but they are much more effective than alcohol.

It’s good that Klaus got sober.  It’s good that it lasted as long as it did.  Ben’s dismay at his relapse is warranted.  But from a writing standpoint, it’s so smart and so realistic and shows the complexities of addiction recovery.  It’s not clean, it’s not pretty, and it always gets worse before it gets better.

<-- Previous   Master Post     Next -->

[one-boring-person]

Fair Game.

T-800 x reader (Terminator: Judgement Day version)

Warnings: sexual themes mentioned, gun use

Context: The T-800 wants to learn to be more human.

A/N: I absolutely love the terminator films, so I will try and write more for them, even though it's not very popular amongst you guys 😅 this is just some idea I've had rattling around in my head, so enjoy!

P.S. To the people who have requested things, I have not forgotten or ignored you! I'm just in the process of writing them out, so I should have one out by tomorrow.💛

Masterlist

The temperature has slowly gotten cooler over the last few hours or so, the sky beginning to darken a little until the last light comes from the rays of sun just cresting over the horizon, casting the landscape in an orange tint. Annoyingly, it also means I can't see what I'm doing, the shape of each separate part of the assault rifle in my hands nearly indistinguishable as they start blurring into each other. A sigh of irritation leaves me as I put them down again, stretching my back as I stand up from the picnic bench again, shaking the stiffness from my joints, my body cramping from sitting in the same position for hours. My hands ache, too, my palms and fingers coated in a layer of gun oil, a result of the rigourous cleaning I've put the weapons through, something which wasn't necessarily required, but I felt like doing anyway, to take my mind off the more gruesome details of the past day or so, still trying to process what exactly is happening.

Just yesterday, John and I were messing around in the arcade, using his hacking skills to our advantage as he stole some money, the two of us having a great time with his friend, who we had to leave behind, for his own safety. A cop went around asking others about John, making the mistake of questioning our friend, who then let us know of the possible danger of being caught, prompting us to run, trying to escape another warning from the feds. From that point onwards, everything went pear shaped: another man appeared from nowhere and shot the cop, who had pulled a gun on us, saving us from certain death as he then gave us time to escape, letting us both get back to our motorcycles, which we promptly used to get away, speeding as quickly as possible down into the aquaducts, where we know our way round pretty well. Leading the cop on a long chase, we soon became very knowledgeable of the fact that our bikes are nowhere near as fast as the truck the cop was chasing us in, meaning we very nearly got hit by it. Long story short, the man from before saved the two of us, before explaining to us what exactly is happening.

Having been in John's close friend circle for most of our time together, the information I learnt was not too surprising; a cyborg (the cop) has been sent back in time from the future to kill him, so he can't lead the resistance against a future mechanized army, a T-1000 made of liquid metal, though another cyborg, a T-800 this time, has been sent back to save him. Having established this, we quickly found that our foster parents had been murdered by the T-1000, leaving the two of us mostly parentless, though John still has his mother, who we broke out of a mental institute last night. And now here we are, somewhere in the middle of nowhere, sheltering with a friend of her's called Enrique.

The sound of steady footsteps draws me from my reverie, my head snapping round as I notice the T-800 walking towards me, it's expressionless face mostly in shadow now because of the setting sun. Turning to face him, I pick up the gun components once more and start methodically putting them back together again, trying to ignore him as he comes up to me, annoyed that my mind has formed an attachment to the handsome cyborg already within two days of knowing him.

"You have experience in the use of firearms." It's not a question, but rather a statement, the cyborg's deep, accented voice resonating in my ears.

"My parents, my real parents that is, were fugitives. They showed me how to use weapons from as young as I could hold them. They thought I needed to be ready to protect myself." I laugh dryly, "I never thought they'd actually be right about something."

"This will be useful in the war." He states tonelessly, watching as I slot the magazine back into the stock, loading it ready for immediate use.

"If I make it that far." I murmur, putting the assembled gun back down on the table, turning my body to properly face him, "Did you need something?"

"No. I am trying to learn "small talk". John Connor has told me to be more human, and that is what he recommends." He reveals, standing beside me, his body towering over mine.

"Oh, right, well that's fair game, I guess." I smile, knowing that the bond between my foster brother and the cyborg has grown quickly, which is unsurprising given the willingness to learn on both of their behalf.

"What is "fair game"?" The T-800 looks over at me, brow furrowed slightly.

Stuck for words, I try to figure out how to explain it, only to be distracted by the sight of two of the younger members of the group already living here making out a little way away. Clenching my jaw, I look down at my feet, a pang of jealousy making itself known.

"Its a figure of speech. I use it to clarify whether I think something is a relatively good idea or not." I finally answer him, unable to resist another look at the couple, which he catches and follows.

"Why do you kiss?" He inquires again, watching unashamedly as the couple make out passionately.

"You mean people? People kiss when they are romantically involved with each other, or if they want to reassure each other. It's a sign of love. Not that I'd know." I say the last part quietly, hoping he won't hear it, "Get it?"

"No."

I smile sadly at this, not really expecting him to understand it, given that it is an extension of human affection, something which he does not really know how to do.

"Maybe one day." I say to him wistfully, leaning back against the table behind me.

"Affirmative. I will understand when I have a concept of human behaviour." He states, turning back to face me, standing much closer than before, "What is wrong?"

I look up as he asks this, having been staring at the floor dejectedly, trying to think up whether there will be a "one day" or not. I've always been a pessimist, but situations like this do not help.

"Oh, nothing. I'm just a little...down, I guess." I explain to him, sighing.

He frowns, clearly confused by the terminology.

"Down meaning sad in this context." I inform the T-800, clarifying what I mean.

A look of understanding dawns on his face, before a look of deep concentration replaces it. Suddenly, he steps forwards, caging me into the table, his hands coming to rest on my hips, pulling me into his hard body. Instinctually, my hands move to lay themselves on his chest, feeling the firm muscle beneath them move as he picks me up and places me onto the table behind me, pressing closer. Before I can say a word, I feel his lips smooth themselves against mine, their cool, dry surfaces moulding with mine as I reciprocate out of instinct, enjoying the feeling of him kissing me as he wraps his hands around my body. Somehow, he manages to draw my mouth open, slipping his tongue into it to lick at the interior of my mouth, swallowing my moans and grunts of air, his hands slipping under my shirt and onto my bare skin. Arching into him, I card my fingers through his hair, pulling gently as he presses even closer, his abnormal strength pushing me down onto the table beneath me, his muscular arms caging me in underneath his huge body. Propping myself up on my elbows, I try to keep up with him, only to fall back as he pulls away and starts kissing down my neck, easily finding my sweet spot. Licking and sucking at it, he allows his hands to roam over my body to my ass, gripping it gently as he holds me close to his chest.

"What in the hell are you doing?!" John's voice suddenly cuts through the haze of pleasure, drawing my attention away from the T-800, who stops what he is doing to look at the boy, helping me upright again as he answers.

"I am reassuring (Y/n). She told me that kissing is a form of reassurance to people." He recites, looking over at me again, his eyes slightly less dead than normal.

"Generally those kisses don't look like that." John points out, looking slightly disgusted as I try to adjust myself again, embarrassed and flustered as hell.

"What do they look like, then? My files show that that is normal."

"Normal for people who are in love! For other people, it tends to be a quick kiss on the forehead, or cheek!" The boy continues to argue.

"If it makes you feel any better, John, then I feel a lot more relaxed now. It worked really well." I interject, shyly, looking down with my cheeks flushing red.

"Then it is a successful method." The T-800 says, clearly confused.

John goes to reply again, only to be cut off by the sound of a car door slamming. Turning, we see Sarah suddenly climb into the corresponding car, the engine starting as she puts it into drive, not looking back as she leaves the camp, John racing after her, screaming for her.

"Don't try kissing him to reassure him. I don't think it will work for him." I inform the cyborg beside me, smiling up at him as he gives me his own version of one, though it looks much more like a grimace than a smile.

"That is fair game."