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aenaxes · 3 years

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one to ten

[jesse x gn!reader] there are ten things you remember about jesse.

warnings: tcw s7 spoilers, suggestive themes, mentions of death

w/c: 2.5k

a/n: sorry for the constant parentheticals lol. ishei is a spin on a biblical name/the hebrew name basis for jesse (yishai) as a kind of namesake (surprise, you've now adopted a togrutan).

01. Your first glimpse of beauty in war comes in the form of a clone trooper.

It doesn’t make sense. They all look the same, you groan to Uche, the one other civ enlistee who didn’t waste their breath (or your time) waxing poetic about galactic justice or pining after the out-of-touch idealogues holding rank in the jedi temple and Senate floor.

What’s so different about him? Uche asks, and you don’t have an answer.

You remember sneaking furtive looks from inventory protocol drills to the landing platform, seeing the unnamed soldier step off the dust-beaten hull of a gunship transport with a straight-backed swagger. Even from afar, he demands attention, presence, in ways the men with him cannot.

I don’t know, you mumble. Maybe it’s the tattoo on half his face.

02. You learn the name of this beautiful man when Uche ditches the buddy system to wander off with a trooper in red armor at 79’s.

Shitty friend, comes a voice you’ve heard a hundred times over. You turn your head, ready to shoo away a shiny eager to prove his mettle, but instead you are met with the beautiful soldier and his ridiculous face tattoo in Uche’s seat. He flashes you a grin, raising his brows at you in a way that oozes the same confidence you remember in the landing bay. Can I make it up to you with a drink?

Will it be worth my while? you shoot back. (It’s amazing how well you mask the excited tremor in your voice. The wonders of working in a military hierarchy.)

No promises, he shrugs as he flags down the barkeep. But I think you already know your answer.

Then fine, I guess, you fight the smile playing over your lips. And when he closes his eyes and laughs, you think it’s only fitting that your nameless soldier has a laugh as gorgeous as himself.

I’m y/n, you say.

Jesse.

03. You meet this beautiful man again (Jesse, you curl your tongue over his name), and it just so happens that you end up assigned to the same ship as him. You board the Resolute, your civ certification in hand and a drab uniform as your completion gift, and as you claim your quarters aboard the destroyer, a firm tap at your shoulder stops you at your door.

Fancy seeing you here, y/n.

You’re kidding me, you smile. When you turn around, Jesse’s grinning back at you, bucket tucked under one arm, the other propping him up against the hallway wall in the worst attempt to look even remotely flirtatious that you’ve ever seen.

I’m hard to resist, I know, Jesse laughs, and you do your best to muster the most irritated expression possible despite the elation in your chest. I guess 79’s wasn’t enough for you, huh?

Sure, I can’t get enough of me absolutely drinking you under the table, Jesse, you snort.

Okay, okay, I was off my game. But you can’t tell me I’m not a better kisser when I’m tipsy, he shrugs.

I haven’t kissed you sober, you deadpan.

You think I could change that by the end of this tour?

04. You’re in bed with this beautiful man for the nth time this month, and you’ve never been too good with pillowtalk, so you tell him what you have always thought since the day you first saw him. Your fingertips light over his cheeks, you tell him that he is beautiful.

Jesse laughs and leans in to kiss your wrist. Between kisses trailing up your arm, he tells you that he is one face of many; that he is all rough skin and scars; (that there is no beauty in war embodied, cemented in the flesh over and over and over); that you just might have poor taste.

You jab his arm (because fuck you, Jesse, this was supposed to be a romantic moment), and he yelps, cackling. But you’ve successfully stroked his ego, and he thanks you by pulling you down onto his bunk again.

05. You’re in love with this beautiful man.

The revelation is a long time coming and yet somehow the greatest surprise that shocks you awake one morning when Jesse is still asleep in his bunk with one heavy arm draped over your bare hips.

It’s more than simple beauty as you watch him sleep, his lips parted and brow slack. Done away with the bravado and big talk, with the tension lifted from his proud features, Jesse is terrifyingly vulnerable in the way that makes your heart ache (even if he might be drooling just a little bit).

And then the ship alarm blares, and Jesse’s scrambling awake, sleepy apologies and bleary eyes as he shuffles around you to fumble for his armour.

See you in a few, sweetheart, Jesse laughs, locking his vambrace in place before he leans close and presses a quick peck to your cheek. And then he’s gone, breaking into a jog down the hallway as you shrug on his GAR bomber and pull it close over your chin.

You tell yourself that you don’t breathe deep on purpose, that you don’t shiver when you catch Jesse’s scent, standard-issue aftershave and spritzes of the Corellian cologne you’d bought him planetside, saved for the nights you spent over in his quarters.

You’re in love. (Fuck.)

06. You’re in love with this beautiful man.

Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum, he says softly, perched beside you on the stout nose of a laatie. You lift your head from his shoulder, meeting his unreadable gaze (all you know is that it is soft) with a furrowed brow.

When you ask him what it means, Jesse—smooth-talker, sly bastard, a snappy retort always a word away—sputters unintelligibly, forgoing any excuses or mistranslations for sliding down the gunship’s hull and breaking into a run across the dewy grass. And you forget that you haven’t run this fast in months when you take off close at his heels.

Tell me, asshole! you shout, sprinting after him.

Not on your life! he shouts with a grin thrown over his shoulder. But he is slowing, his run pacing down to a jog, then a funny little walk on the heels of his feet as you close his lead and tackle him to the cool grass underfoot.

You feel a bruise blooming over your knees, and you’re fairly certain he’ll have a worse bruise over his tailbone. But all you can do is laugh as Jesse traps you in his arms and wrestles you onto your back under the silver light of the Nemoidian moons. (When was the last time you had laughed so freely?)

And when you catch your breath, vision blurry with the best kind of tears, you look to the wonder in Jesse’s eyes as he kneels above you.

You think he might be in love, too.

07. You’re in love with your beautiful man, and when you call him yours (when he calls you his) between hushed breaths and soft moans, you savor the thrill that rushes up your spine every time.

General Skywalker’s married, Jesse says one night, his voice rumbling under your ear as you lie over his chest.

It’s kind of obvious, you respond, and he laughs.

No—I mean, I knew—we’ve all known. But what if we got married?

You lift your head, and something heavy and warm lurches alive in the spaces between your ribs when you meet Jesse’s eyes. There is no witty playfulness, no heckling rise—only yearning, deep and vast and held with bated breath when he reaches up to touch your cheek.

Just you, me, some peace and quiet. I’d make a hell of a mechanic. And kids, maybe, well, if you want, he says, and with each word, his voice grows softer and softer still until you can just barely make out the last sound that passes his lips.

You could be a realist, cruel and cold, listing some regulation manual clause and the twofold speed at which Jesse would live and love (and die). You could tell him that the chances of you both making it out of this seemingly endless war were slim to none. You could tell him that the grief of losing a husband would fester where the loss of a friend would heal. You could leave.

But normality is so, so sweet—the vague yet enchanting idea of life beyond a war for which your beautiful man was born, a war which has swallowed you whole.

Rules and probabilities be damned, it’s worth the risk.

I’d like that, you whisper, and Jesse’s incredulous, enthralled laugh sweeps you off your feet before he’s kissing you like it’s the first time all over again.

A week later, Fives officiates, Echo bears witness, and they shower you with handfuls of tiny blue flowers scrounged from the flaxen Lothal plains as Jesse kisses you breathless.

(Both of them are dead within the year.)

08. You’re in love with your beautiful man, and you don’t think yourself a fool when all you can wonder is whether he still loves you from behind the mirrored visor of his helmet, one pound of pressure away from two blaster bolts and twin wounds (one for Ahsoka, one for you).

It is not his voice you hear over the labored blare of the ship alarms. It shares the same breath and passes through the same lips, but it is not the cocksure charm in rank or the languorous warmth of leave you have come to call your own.

You’ll be demoted in rank from commander and subject to execution along with the traitors Ahsoka Tano and y/n l/n.

It is not Jesse’s voice. (The last time your full name found home over his tongue, Fives and Echo had been alive.)

And then you watch him fall.

The hangar is a flurry of blaster fire and gunsmoke, and it’s a wonder that through it all, only one shot manages to graze over your leg before Ahsoka hurls you onto the docked y-wing and into the gunner’s seat.

The thrusters rumble to life as you slam your viewport shut, and you hear Rex’s voice crackling over the intraship comm for you to strap in. But all you can do is search frantically for any flash of twin ARC pauldrons and a shock of royal blue in the violent sea of helmets paying forgotten homage. You press your palms to the glass because he was there, he was there, right where Ahsoka spears her lightsabers into the metal, he was there.

The floor drops from beneath your feet, and you tell yourself the smoke and ache in your lungs is from your head connecting hard with the domed viewport glass as you scramble for your controls.

(What goes through a man’s head when he knows he will not wake when he lands?)

09. And then your beautiful man is dead.

You will think later that you were lucky, blessed, even, that you were not the one to pull his mangled body from under the charred belly of a destroyer, but that fact makes uncovering his face no less difficult. The broad ink stretched over his skin does little to hide the blood dried over his brow, bled into glassy eyes unseeing.

Did he feel it when the ship tore apart? You slide his eyes shut. (You do not hear your own wailing.) Was he in pain?

His brother tells you to leave his helmet over his grave because you buried bodies, vessels, ghosts of who they had once been. Jesse was not himself when you ran. Why would you carry a marker of someone you no longer knew, someone who no longer knew you?

There won’t be space for it on the ship (leave the dead with the dead), and you pretend not to hear how young Rex sounds when his voice bows under the loss of everything he’s ever known.

You hang the bloody plastoid back onto its perch.

It feels like the death of a saint, not because Jesse was some paragon of virtue, but because it is cruel, uncaring and unjust and pulled out of your hands into a single divine lie. It’s a wordless eulogy come too soon, and you cannot seem to pull away from the scuff marks and chipped paint at your fingertips.

It’s time to go, Rex says.

We got married, you say.

I know, Rex replies.

I’m not ready, your voice cracks. I didn’t say goodbye.

You feel strong arms pull you close, and if you focus on the sound of the slowly groaning hull before you, you can pretend like you aren’t being pulled apart at the seams, crashed into some cold moon, dirt under your nails, blood on your knees, alone.

I know.

10. Sometimes, you see your beautiful man in fleeting glimpses over his brother’s face. They are only split-second visions blurred by sleep (denial, denial, denial). You see copper skin and a soldier’s eyes, but that is where the familiarity ends and reality begins.

Even if you took away the tattoo arcing over Jesse’s skin and placed them side by side, Rex does not have the slight curve in his nose from a sparring session kicked too high; he does not have the dark freckle just below his chin; he does not have the playful twinkle, the knowing gleam that lit up his eyes whenever he saw you. (Rex only looks to you with shared grief, pity, these days.)

Clone or not, he is not him.

So you sleep.

If only for a glimpse of Jesse, his face blurry and voice warped under the weight of memory (played, rewound, and played again), you treat your precious shifts of sleep when Rex takes the helm as nothing short of speaking to the divine itself. Even if your dreams are more often than not nightmares of staring down a blaster barrel, part of you thinks that it’s worth the shaky hands and uneven breaths as Rex shakes you awake, that you might try to say goodbye.

Tonight, you see him again. But this time, the hangar deck is silent, blasters raised but frozen in place, a snapshot frame of the day a part of you died with him. The script changes. He lowers his blasters, you step forward, and when you reach up to lift his helmet from his shoulders, it is the clearest you have ever seen his face since you laid him to rest.

I’m sorry, his voice floats, settling in the space between your ears, soft and strong. I love you.

Goodbye, Jesse.

And when you wake, for the first time in weeks, your eyes are dry.

You will heal.

—

00. Buir, a soft voice filters down from the top bunk as your ship hums around you.

Ishei, you call, lifting one hand to rub at your eyes. You catch your son’s little horned head peeking over the edge of his bunk, and he scampers down the ladder when you beckon him close.

I can’t sleep, he whispers as he crawls beside you and tucks his arms around your waist. Will you tell me about father?

(Jesse will never know the orphaned Togrutan boy who calls him buir. You wish he did.)

Every night, you laugh softly, gently rubbing between his budding white montrals. Every night, I tell you about Jesse’buir. You don’t tire of the same stories?

You feel Ishei shake his head against your chest. Jesse’buir is my hero! Did he really look just like Rex ba’vodu?

Not at all, you smile. Not at all.

#fic is how i cope with mcat content review :-)#i'm not sure how u adopt ishei but congrats u r a parent now #but it's very mandalorian of you which is fantastic #and jesse would also call u a milf/dilf/parent he'd like to fuck #anyways #arc trooper jesse x reader #jesse x reader #clone wars x reader #yaej.writes

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darthkruge · 4 years

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hey could you do a jess mariano x reader where the reader has dyslexia but loves to read. someone at school makes a comment about her being dumb and she gets insecure but jess is super reassuring to the reader about how intelligent she is. also they can either be already dating or have mutual crushes. whatever you think fits better. <3

Jess Mariano x Dyslexic!Reader ~ All of You

Summary: Someone at school insults the dyslexic reader and their boyfriend, Jess, provides reassurance.

Warnings: Bullying, language, insecurities, I think that’s it?

Words: 2.1k

A/N: Hey!! I’m so, so sorry this took me so long to get to! I hope you don’t mind, I didn’t mean to keep you in the ask box void. I really enjoyed writing this, so thank you for requesting! I decided to make them already be dating because that’s where my brain went hehe. I hope you like it :)

You walked to school hand-in-hand with your boyfriend, as always. Even though it took him about 15-20 minutes out of the way, Jess never missed walking with you. He hated the thought of you starting your day by yourself and never wanted you to feel forgotten about or lonely. Thus, the tradition began and it has stayed the way you start your day, everyday, for the last few months that you’ve been dating.

Jess pulled you behind the science building, pressing his lips to yours. Your hands instinctively wove into his hair and his arms wound around your waist, pulling your bodies together. He smiled into the kiss before pulling away from your lips and gently moving his kisses down the side of your neck. You hummed in content before moving to meet his face again, once again pressing your lips to his.

These stolen moments were what you lived for. You’d never felt too confident in yourself, at least as far as relationships went, and you weren’t used to this kind of affection. Even so, you loved every moment of it. Everything with Jess felt so natural. No matter what, you came first to him and he never failed to show it.

You both pulled away and he softly kissed your forehead.

“See you after second period?”

“Of course”

“Okay, love. Text me if you need me. Or if you’re bored. Or if you miss me”

“Oh, yes! That Jess Mariano charm. I’m not sure how I’ll endure two classes without it!”

“I’m sure it’ll prove quite e difficult,” Jess said, laughing. The bell rang and he gave you one last smile before you parted.

You walked into your English class with a smile on your face, giddy after the experience with him. He made you feel alive. It was the kind of feeling you didn’t know you needed, but once you felt it you couldn’t imagine losing it.

You sat down in your seat, waiting for the teacher to start class.

“Okay, everyone. Today we’re just going to be doing some silent reading for the first half of class and then I’ll put you in small groups to work on a new project”

Fuck. Group projects were the fucking worst. Unless you got one of your friends, people were normally assholes and impossible to work with.

Even though you were upset with the new development, you were excited to have time to read. You pulled out your copy of The Great Gatsby that Jess had lent you and picked up where you last left off. Because you read so much and generally did well or at least half-decent in school, people never assumed you had dyslexia. Lots of people had this false narrative that if you have dyslexia, you must hate reading. It was something you were used to, the stupid comments and assumptions. You tried to not let it get to you but you sometimes felt frustrated. You’d run into loads of ignorant people in your life and while you weren’t ashamed to have dyslexia, you hated having to explain it to every new teacher, every new friend in your life. You never knew how’d they’d react.

Even so, reading was one of your greatest joys in life. Losing yourself in the work, in the story, it was enthralling. You loved to find characters that you connected with. Their emotions were palpable and made you feel validated and less alone. Reading was one of the main things that brought you and Jess together. He knew you had dyslexia and, thankfully, never treated you like you were any less. You were afraid he would break up with you once you told him, but, of course, he didn’t. You were still you, and that’s all he cared about.

He loved trading books with you and hearing your thoughts on them. In doing so, he felt the two of you were brought closer together. Discussing literature was an almost intimate experience in your relationship. Learning which characters and themes resonated with a person was truly illuminating about their personality and mind. Right now, as you read Gatsby, Jess was reading Pride and Prejudice. You loved Jane Austen, as did Jess, and you completely enjoyed discussing her work.

After a few moments lost in thought, your teacher’s voice pulled you back to the present. “Alright! Okay so for the group project you will be analyzing the short story “The Lottery” by Shirley Jackson. Please read it together today and discuss what you think the most pertinent theme is. I’ve already assigned the groups and I’ll display them on the board right now.”

Your teacher stepped back and turned on the projector so you could see the groups. Scanning for your name, you internally groaned when you saw who you were with. Sarah, Justin, and Alex. They were all close and their friend group didn’t exactly have the best reputation. You grabbed your bag, walked over to them, and sat down.

“So, y’all just wanna read it? Then just talk about it, I guess. We’re looking for themes, right?” Sarah asked.

Everyone nodded, opening up the copies of the short story placed on your desks. You jumped in and immediately felt yourself pulled into the writing. After a few minutes, your eyes glued to the story, you heard the rest of your group closing their packets.

“Alright, everyone done?” Justin asked.

“Yeah, you?” Alex said

Sarah nodded in agreement.

You, on the other hand, felt your cheeks flush. You were only about 70% through the story. “Sorry, I just need a bit more time, is that okay?”

“Ugh, fine, whatever. Just hurry up,” Sarah groaned.

Your face burning, you went back to the reading. It wasn’t like you weren’t trying, you were! They just wouldn’t understand it. You couldn’t count the amount of times people had told you to just “focus more”. It made your blood boil, honestly. It was so dismissive and you couldn't believe people still thought that way. You always focused and it wasn’t your fault, and, yet, morons like these three persisted. After a few more minutes, you heard Alex again.

“Come on! You can’t possibly still be reading?”

“I’m sorry, just-” You sighed, running your hands through your hair. “Please, just a few more minutes?”

“God, you’re so fucking stupid. No wonder no one wants to work with you. All you do is hold people up, you’re a goddamn idiot” Alex said.

Your eyes burned and unshed tears started to push their way up but you fought them down. You wouldn’t let yourself cry in front of them. They didn’t deserve to see how they’d affected you.

Finally, the bell went off and you were able to leave. Your group glared at you and you realized you hadn’t discussed the themes.

“It’s, um, the story’s about the juxtaposition of peace and violence. Even though the people are in a calm, controlled setting, they resort to violence every year. It’s an outdated tradition they keep up and, thus, it highlights the difference between their actions and how they want to be perceived.” You said quickly, voice wavering.

Your group scoffed before walking off. That didn’t bother you too much. You knew your analysis was accurate and probably far better than anything they could have come up with, even if they’d spent the last 15 minutes of class discussing it. Despite this, you still felt deflated. The shit they’d said, the way they’d treated you? You couldn’t deny it, it got to you.

You walked over to your locker and put your stuff away. After that, you decided you were just going to go home. You could call the school later and say you were feeling sick or something. Honestly, you couldn’t bring yourself to care. You were just so drained, you needed to get away from this place and the people in it.

However, you didn’t want Jess to worry. You sent him a quick text saying you weren’t feeling well and put on your headphones before walking out of the school.

What you didn’t expect was Jess to come flying out of nowhere, appearing by your side as if you’d summoned him.

“Jess! What are you doing? Don’t you have class!”

He shrugged. “You weren’t feeling well. Did you honestly expect I’d leave you by yourself? And, seriously, Y/N, you know I hate this place. You’re the only thing that makes it bearable so if you wouldn’t be here, why should I?”

You nodded and kept walking forward. Jess looked at you quizzically, trying to decode your dejected state. He kept quiet, knowing not to push you to talk. He trusted you’d come to him when you were ready. Therefore, he simply followed you until you made it off campus, where you turned into a random alley and suddenly stopped walking.

Jess caught himself, almost running right into you. You suddenly turned around, dropped your bag, and bolted right into his chest. He was caught off guard but instinctively brought his arms around you, trying to comfort you. He noticed you were crying, your broken sobs getting muffled in his shirt. He soothingly rubbed his arms up and down your back, desperately trying to give you solace. After you finally quieted down, Jess gently and slowly pulled you back.

His hands gripped your shoulders as he studied your face, your sad gaze meeting his. “What happened?”

“Stupid English, that’s all”

“Come on, Y/N, don’t shut me out. What happened?” He said, his tone kind.

“I-” You trailed off, trying to keep your composure. “Some kids just said some shit. I was just reading slower than them and they said some shit. It’s not a big deal, I just- it got to me, okay?”

“Who?” Jess said, firmly this time.

“Jess-”

“Who, Y/N?”

“Alex, Justin, and Sarah.”

Jess groaned, rubbing the heels of his hands over his eyes. “Fuck them, Y/N. They’re fucking ridiculous and they don’t know anything about you”

“I know, I know. That’s why I’m so goddamn frustrated! Because, like, it did get to me. Jess- Jess, they’re right. I felt like an idiot today, I felt stupid. And I hate feeling that way!” Hot tears smarmed in your eyes, the frustration and anger bringing them out.

Jess’s gaze softened. As livid as he felt toward the three of them, he knew that’s not what you needed right now.

“Hey, hey, hey. Love, take a breath. I’ve got you, okay?”

You nodded, your breathing shaky from the stress of the day.

“I’m sorry that happened today. Listen to me, Y/N. You’re so smart. You’re smarter than I am, hell, you’re smarter than anyone at that school! They’ve got nothing on you!”

You looked at him and smiled at his words but shook your head. “You don’t need to do that, Jess”

“Yes, I do. We promised we’d be honest in our relationship, right? Well, that’s all I’m doing. Seriously, Y/N, who else at that school could debate the themes in literature with me like you? Who could discuss the importance of accurate representation in books with me? Who could talk to me about just how influential YA books are and why they should be taken seriously-?”

“They are and they should!” You cut in.

Jess laughs, nodding in agreement. “Exactly!! You’re amazing, Y/N. And I swear those fuckheads are gonna get what’s coming to them”

“Jess-” You warn.

“Okay, okay!” He laughed, holding his hands up in mock surrender. “They just- they messed with you and made you upset and I fucking hate that”

“I hated it too. I hate doubting myself because of my dyslexia. I feel so shit about myself when I get in that headspace and I start spiraling and it gets out of control so fast.”

“I know. It’s not your fault when those spirals happen. And I know you know this, but I’m just gonna remind you: you’re not any less because you’re dyslexic. It doesn’t make you stupid or anything. It’s a part of you and I love you, all of you”

Your heart swelled at his words. Everyone thought Jess wasn’t good expressing his emotions but you knew the truth. He was quite eloquent when he wanted to be, he just sometimes had trouble with vulnerability. You didn’t blame him for it, with his past it made perfect sense. But when you needed that reassurement, that compassion, you could always count on him for it.

He moved to place a kiss on your forehead before slinging his arm around your shoulder. “Let’s go home, okay?”

“Okay” You smiled up at him and kissed him once more before tucking your head into his shoulder. He pulled you closer and you grabbed his free hand with yours as you continued to walk through the Stars Hollow streets together.

#jess mariano x reader #jess mariano #jess mariano x you #jess mariano fanfic #jess mariano fic #jess mariano imagine #jess mariano imagines #jess mariano x gn!reader #jess mariano x gender neutral reader #jess mariano x dyslexic reader #jess mariano x dyslexic!reader #gilmore girls x reader

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mylovelies-docx · 3 years

Text

Kid Krow - Fight or Flight

Part 4!

A/N: Angst city, bitches. I don’t know what else to say about this part other than I’m sorry?

Chapter warnings: abandonment issues, panic attack, anxiety, Poe (because he deserves a warning all his own for this chapter)

Listen to the song here!

Read it on AO3 here!

Word count: 3.3k

“Somethin’s gotten into you,” you stated as you stared at Poe with narrowed eyes, suspicious.

“Nothing has gotten into me, (Y/N),” Poe defended, but he continued stirring his bone broth without taking a sip or looking up at you.

“Okaaaay…” you drawled. You didn’t believe him; something had happened last night that made him like this, but you couldn’t for the life of you figure out what it was.

“Did I sleepwalk naked around the cruiser or somethin’?” You joked, trying to break the tension and bring a smile to his face. You did not succeed. “You don’t really look at me the way you used to,” you continued to jest.

Poe let out a deep breath, preparing himself for something.

Arle, Mille, and Zalos had gone to trade with a new customer across town, while you, Poe, and Zorii had stayed to meet with a repeat client. The chatter over the line sounded promising.

Zorii returned to the table with three drinks in hand. She set them down and looked between you and Poe, sensing the tension.

“Am I interrupting something?” she asked, quirking an eyebrow at the two of you.

“I really don’t know,” you replied. You tilted your head at Poe, silently asking what was going on.

“Sit down, Zorii, I have to talk to you both.” Poe’s shoulders were tense and his posture rigid, a determined look on his face.

“Ooh, sounds ominous.” Zorii plopped down beside you, hands clasped in front of her while she leaned closer to Poe over the table. You wished you were as calm as she was, but your heart was racing and your hands had gone clammy.

Whatever Poe was about to say, you weren’t going to like it.

“Just know that I have been thinking about this for a while now, and only recently have… events transpired,” at his phrasing, Poe glanced at you quickly then averted his gaze back to the table, “that have led me to finally make up my mind.”

Oh, kriff, you thought, whatever he’s plannin’ is because of me.

“What kind of events?” Zorii questioned, unable to let his choice of words and meaningful glance at you slide.

Poe’s breath puffed out his cheeks, and his eyes started roving around the cantina, trying to think of something to say. He rubbed at his collarbone and adjusted the position of his mother’s ring on the chain around his throat. He looked back at the two of you.

“We’ve all heard the whispers about the First Order,” he tried.

“So?” prompted Zorii. “We hear whispers about a lot of people all the time. What events have the First Order been a part of recently that have you so wound up?”

You knew that the First Order had very little to do with the decision Poe had made, while you had everything to do with what was about to happen.

Realization dawned on you, bright as a supernova.

“You’re leaving,” you whispered. You stared hard at his face, hoping he would contradict you.

Instead of assuaging your fears and reassuring you that he would never leave you behind, he simply replied, “yes, I’m leaving.”

He emphasized the one word he knew would break your heart and make you understand that this journey the two of you had been on was now over.

You couldn’t breathe through the fear that was refusing to allow your lungs the expansion they needed. Zorii and Poe were arguing with each other, but your ears were ringing and you could only hear the rush of your blood. Your heart was thumping a fast rhythm in your chest, requiring more oxygen than your lungs were bringing in. The edges of your vision were going black and you began to panic.

You scrambled up from your seat, leaning heavily against the table for balance. History was repeating itself, but this time it was so much worse. Poe had been by your side for so long that you had almost forgotten the feeling of losing a friend.

Now the memories were sizzling through your brain, the only things you could focus on in the moment. You were rushing outside in hopes that the cool air would calm your roiling stomach and staunch the urge to vomit.

A hand grabbed your arm and you flung it away violently, stumbling towards the door and out into the night.

You collapsed against the side of the building, head in your hands between your bent knees. You were trying to take in deep breaths, but you were hyperventilating instead. You hadn’t had a panic attack in years, so it was hard for you to remember your breathing techniques.

You slowly became aware that there was a hand rubbing against your thigh and a voice urging you to match their breathing. You tried to breathe along with them, but it took far longer than you were prepared for.

“(Y/N), just let me explain-” Poe pleaded from his crouched position in front of you.

“I think you’ve done enough, Dameron,” Zorii spat at him. Her hand was still rubbing your thigh vigorously to help you focus on something other than the chaos in your body and mind.

“You know this is something dad has always wanted,” he continued, trying to help you understand, “for me to follow in their footsteps.”

But you refused to understand. It hurt too much to sit there and let Poe lay all his excuses at your feet.

“G-get me out of her, Rii,” you wheezed.

You gripped her hand hard and let her pull you up and into her side. Zorii was supporting the majority of your weight, but you were able to shuffle forward with her guidance. Your eyes were still fuzzy and your head was pounding, but the worst of the panic attack was over.

“(Y/N), please!” Poe was struggling with your refusal to look at him, having never experienced this side of you. “It’s not what it seems, I’m just trying to help you.”

Do not cry. I’d rather die than have to cry in front of him right now.

“Help by being an asshole? Kriff off, Poe,” Zorii defended you. “Go be a pilot for the New Republic and leave us alone.”

“I’m not leaving until you guys aren’t mad at me,” Poe pronounced while opening the ship’s bay to allow you all inside the relative warmth of the hull.

“You’ll be here for an eternity, if that’s the case,” Zorii hissed. She was leading you to her quarters for some peace and quiet, but Poe couldn’t stand your silence.

“Princ- (Y/N),” his slip up was excruciating. He hadn’t looked at you or called you princess all day, which should have clued you in that his decision was all on you. “You have to know how much I care about you as a friend. I’m doing this for us, so you can get over your feelings for me.”

Zorii’s eyes widened and she looked down at you. Your face was crumpling and your lip was quivering with the force of your oncoming tears. Zorii sucked in a breath and expelled pure rage because of what Poe had just revealed.

“I swear to the Maker, Dameron, that if you don’t leave her alone right now I will gut you like a ghest.” Zorii’s eyes were hard as beskar, with no trace of the softness she had once felt for the man.

You could tell that Poe was getting frustrated with Zorii’s interference. His face was starting to flush and his mouth was twisted into a flat line.

“Zorii, just give us a minute, would you?” he asked sternly, his hands on his hips and his face tilted towards the ground. He was trying not to show how angry she was making him.

You realized that this stalemate wasn’t going to end unless you said something to Poe.

It’s your move. Fight or flight.

But if Poe was done fighting for your friendship and was instead running away to academy training, why should you do any different?

“Zorii,” you said, “give us a minute, please.” Your voice was weak, but you untangled yourself from under her arm and began walking towards your own quarters. Poe followed close behind you, hovering his hands as if he wanted to steady you but knew better than to touch you.

If he touched you you were sure to shatter.

It was slow going down the hall, and neither of you broke the tenuous silence between you until you entered your room.

You sunk down onto your cot, clasping your hands together between your knees. The after effects of your panic attack had left you weak and shaky, wanting nothing more than to lie down and not get up for a while.

But this conversation needed to happen, and you decided that it was best to just get it over with.

“If you’re lookin’ to make me feel better, I assure you that whatever you have to say is gonna do the opposite,” you stated. One of your legs was bouncing up and down in response to the intensity of your feelings, and there was nothing you could do to stop Poe from noticing.

“I think the main issue is that we haven’t been completely honest with each other,” Poe began, getting straight to the point.

You scoffed. “If anything, I think we’ve been too honest with each other; I’d rather have lied than tell you I was in love with you. I should have kept it to myself and let you live in ignorant bliss.” Your voice was soft and it cracked in a few places despite how adamant you were to not show any more weakness.

“I would have found out, eventually.” Poe leaned against your closed door, arms crossed and staring intently at you.

“Would you have? You didn’t notice in the last 15 years,” you pointed out solemnly. “Kes knew. Did he tell you? After the night you broke my heart and I was too ashamed to face him, did he ask you how it all went? And did he look disappointed when you told him the truth?” you pondered aloud, not really wanting to know the answer but feeling as if you needed to know how their conversation had gone that morning. If Poe was leaving soon, there was no harm in asking now.

Poe was silent for a moment. “He… he asked why I looked sad and I just told him it was because we had to leave early.”

“Ah,” you said, “so you were fine with lyin’ to him and pretendin’ that everything was alright, then?”

“I thought everything was alright!” Poe exclaimed, standing up away from his slouched position and uncrossing his arms. “You told me it was just a misunderstanding and that you’d get over it! I never encouraged you; you just misread the signs and tried to force everything on me. That’s not fair, (Y/N). Not to me, and not to you.”

Poe walked towards you with an exasperated expression on his face and his hands thrown up in the air, as if asking what he had done to deserve any of this.

You were quietly seething on your bed. You couldn’t help how you felt about Poe! People love who they love, and you just so happened to fall in love with the one person who would never love you back.

A rookie mistake you wouldn’t make again.

“Poe,” you breathed, “I told you already that I’m doin’ fine. I don’t know why you keep bringin’ it up.”

“Because you’re not getting over it, (Y/N)! Apparently everything I do is encouraging you, and I don’t know what else to do besides move on!”

You whipped your head up to lock eyes with Poe, tried to determine if he really believed what he was saying. That he really wanted to ‘move on’ from you and everything you had built together.

His eyes were clear and bright. Determined. Relentlessly staring back at you.

Now you wish that you didn’t know.

You jerked your face to the side, unable to even look at him in your anger.

“I wish that we had never spoke.” Your voice was deadly quiet.

“Speak up so we can talk about this,” he pleaded, “I can’t hear you when-”

“I’M TELLING YOU I WISHED WE HAD NEVER SPOKE!” You yelled, rising to your feet and raging towards him. “I WISH THAT YOU NEVER SHOWED UP THAT DAY ON YAVIN AND I WISH WE HAD NEVER MET!”

Your eyes were overflowing with angry and hurt tears -- tears that you could not control. You were so irate that they were falling against your will that you just became even angrier at yourself and at Poe for causing this reaction in you.

“YOU ARE THE WORST THING TO HAPPEN TO ME, POE DAMERON. YOU SPENT ALL THIS TIME MAKIN’ ME FEEL LIKE I WAS WORTH SOMETHING, ONLY TO RIP IT OUT FROM UNDER ME!”

Your palms were on his chest and you were pushing him towards the door, his face horrified at your screaming, sobbing visage. He was grasping at your wrists, trying to stop your relentless march that was going to throw him out of your life forever.

“I WANT YOU GONE! I NEVER WANNA SEE YOU AGAIN!” You had reached the door. You slammed it open and shoved Poe out into the hallway.

When his warm chest was no longer under your fingers holding you up, all your strength left you.

“I never wanna see you again,” you sobbed brokenly.

“(Y/N)...”

You slammed the door in his face and collapsed.

#poe dameron x reader #poe dameron #poe x reader #poe dameron/reader #poe dameron x you #poe dameron x female reader #poe dameron x y/n #star wars #star wars fan fiction #sequel trilogy #Kid Krow (A Poe Dameron Story)

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dickspeightjrs · 4 years

Text

Show Me How Big Your Brave Is (au / 4.8k words)

Prompt 17 from my ‘30 Destiel Prompts’ for @eccentriccas

ao3 link

It stared at Dean from the fridge, tacked up by a Stanford University magnet gifted to Dean by his brother, Sam.

He’d known his high school reunion was coming up at some point but seeing it embossed in gold lettering created a pit in his stomach.

High school wasn’t the best time for Dean for a few reasons. First, his dad had died in freshman year, which Dean had had mixed feelings about if he was honest. He was mostly concerned about his mother. She didn’t take it well. And then there was-

Dean was torn from his stare down with the invitation by the door bell. He trudged over to answer it. His best friend, Charlie, came bounding in with all the energy of a labrador puppy.

“Hey, friend!” She exclaimed, pulling Dean into a tight hug. “Are you ready for our movie night?”

Dean let himself be infected with Charlie’s excited energy. “Of course, dude! Give me superheroes in spandex already.” He laughed.

“You go set up the first movie and I’ll put the beers in the fridge, okay?” Charlie instructed.

“Sounds good, Bradbury.”

Dean lucked out when he’d met Charlie. They’d been assigned as roommates in college. There had been a mix up with the room allocations. Dean had been a little confused when he’d turned from his boxes to find a tiny red-head standing in the doorway of his dorm.

Charlie had taken a step into the room, let her backpack fall to the floor, and said, “Don’t even think about trying anything. I’m gay as the day is long and I’m not afraid to punch a guy back into his place.” Dean hadn’t known how to reply so he’d just nodded and silently gone back to unpacking his things.

It was when Charlie had put up a Star Wars poster above her bed that Dean knew he was about to make a best friend.

“Ooh what’s this?” Charlie’s voice came from the kitchen.

Crap. Charlie had probably found the invite. He should have hidden it when he had the chance. He sighed and moved into the kitchen.

Charlie had an extremely mischievous grin on her face, and that was saying something for her.

“When were you going to tell me about this?” Charlie asked.

“Urm, never?” Dean mumbled, reaching to snatch the paper out of Charlie’s hand.

But Charlie was too quick and dodged Dean’s grasp.

“Come on Dean. You have to go!” Charlie implored. “It’ll be fun!”

Dean gave his friend an unimpressed look. “Charlie you know how much I hated high school.”

Charlie’s face softened. “I know, it sucks that you got outed before you were ready. No one deserves that. But, it’s been ten years. Things have changed.”

“You don’t know the people I went to high school with.” Dean scoffed.

Charlie rolled her eyes. “Stop being dramatic, you nerd.”

“Dramatic or not, I ain’t going.” Dean plucked the invite out of Charlie’s hand and tore it in two.

Charlie stuck her tongue out at him. “Party pooper.”

* * *

A few hours later, Dean and Charlie were deep into their annual ‘NerdFest’ movie night.

“I swear, if I didn’t bat for the best team, I’d be so down for a bit of Black Wing.” Charlie mumbled around a mouth full of popcorn.

Dean couldn’t help but nod in agreement. Aside from Captain America (because, hello Chris Evans!), Black Wing was Dean’s favourite superhero. But he’d only appeared in ensemble movies. There had been rumours of him getting his own solo movie after fans online had campaigned for it but nothing ever seemed to come of it. The guy who played him seemed to just drop off the map.

Shame, Dean thought as he watched Black Wing kick ass on-screen, that dude was hot!

“Take someone like that to your high school reunion and it would make those dicks’ jaws drop.”

“Drop it, Charlie.” Dean groaned, glaring at the red-head.

“Just saying. Get a hot date and you’ll win the game of life in their eyes.” Charlie raised her hands in defence.

“Noted. Let’s move on.”

“Fine.” Charlie pouted.

Dean nodded and turned back to watch the screen, content that the subject had been dropped.

“OH MY GOD!”

Dean jumped out of his skin, sending popcorn flying through the air. “What the hell, Bradbury?” He exclaimed.

Charlie started excitedly slapping Dean on the arm. “I have the best idea.” She practically squealed. “Put an ad up on Craigslist for a hot date.”

Dean’s eyes went wide. “No fucking way. Never happening. Now stop.”

“But-”

“No!”

Charlie sulked for the next half an hour, all through the iconic fight scene with Black Wing and his fellow team of superheroes. She stopped eventually after Dean offered her a piece of pie as a peace offering.

* * *

After a couple more movies, Charlie had to leave. Apparently, being an adult meant that you can’t just spend all night watching with your best friend anymore - who knew? So with a ‘see ya later bitch’, Charlie was gone.

Dean felt the aches from being sat on the couch for hours and he was looking forward to laying out on his bed for a good night’s sleep.

He sighed to himself and tidied up the last remains of the movie snacks. He was ready for sleep but he had to work early in the morning and he wouldn’t have time to clean up before he left.

Shuffling into the kitchen to put the rubbish in the trash, Dean spotted his reunion invite where he left it on the counter. Except, it wasn’t ripped in two like he’d left it. It had ‘mysteriously’ been taped back together. He dragged a tired hand down his face in exasperation. Charlie just didn’t know when to quit. She was the bratty little sister he never wanted.

He plonked himself down on the chair at the counter and stared at the white paper for a few moments.

Fuck it!

Charlie was right (though he’d never admit it to her face). He was determined to prove to the assholes he went to school with that the shit they threw at him didn’t stick. It didn’t matter that Dean didn’t really believe it to be the truth,’ fake it til ya make it’ as they say.

Before he could chicken out, Dean had Craigslist opened up on his phone. Thinking back to Charlie’s suggestion earlier, Dean decided against asking specifically for a ‘hot’ guy. He dreaded to think what kind of douchebags that would answer the ad proclaiming themselves to be an adonis.

And, despite knowing since he was young that he was bisexual, he decided to aim the ad towards guys. His few relationships with women had never worked out. Even though this was all going to be fake, Dean would like to be able to at least get on with the person.

In the end, he decided on a short and simple ad:

‘Hi, I’m Dean (28M) looking for a guy to take as my date to my stupid high school reunion next Saturday. Message if interested (no weirdos)’

He posted the ad and then spotted the time at the top of the screen.

Midnight. Shit.

He closed the website and dashed upstairs as fast as his tired legs could carry him.

* * *

The next morning, Dean got woken up by the feel of sunlight shining on his face. He must have forgotten to shut the curtains before he passed out last night.

His blood ran cold when he realised that the sun shining on his face meant only one thing. He was late for work. He scrambled around looking for his phone to check the time but it was nowhere to be found.

Suddenly, it came to him. He must have left his phone on the counter in the kitchen, meaning he didn’t hear his alarms going off.

He cursed himself and sped to get ready. Quickly sniffing a shirt to check it was okay to wear, he got dressed and raced downstairs. Sure enough, his phone was sat on the table where he'd sat the night before.

When he picked it up he found that it had also run out of battery overnight.

Great. As if this day couldn’t get any worse.

Forgetting all else on his mind, Dean grabbed his phone and dash out of the front door.

* * *

The ad remained forgotten until a few days later.

Dean was just about to sit down and relax with a beer when his phone lit up with a notification. He put his beer down on a coaster to check it out.

It was a message from Craigslist telling him someone has been trying to contact him about his ad.

Dean’s eyes went wide. He’d completely forgotten about the ad for a date after being late for work and being chewed out by his boss. He couldn't believe someone had actually responded. He looked at the date for the first message. This guy had contacted him like an hour after he’d posted the ad.

He opened the message.

(01:28) BlueEyesAndBlackWings says: Hello. I saw your ad for a date to your reunion. It says I’m only 10 miles from your location. I’m interested in helping you out. Are you still in need of assistance?

(10:11) BlueEyesAndBlackWings says: I assume, as you haven’t replied, that you’ve decided to go with someone else for your date.

(11:20) BlueEyesAndBlackWings says: On second thought, this ad was probably a joke. Please ignore my messages.

Wow. This dude talked funny. And reading that last message, Dean felt a little sorry for the guy too. He seemed lonely. But beggars can’t be choosers, so Dean prepared to reply.

As he went to type, he noticed the guy’s username and smiled to himself.

(19:37) impala67 says: don’t worry dude! the position as my date is still open. you’re the only one who has responded.

PS. I like your username. you a Black Wing fan too?

The reply was almost immediate.

(19:41) BlueEyesAndBlackWings says: Okay. What information do you need from me?

PS. You could say so.

‘You could say so’? Was this guy purposefully trying to be mysterious? Either way, Dean was intrigued.

(19:45) impala67 says: idk dude, just the basics I guess. how old u are, what u look like

(19:53) BlueEyesAndBlackWings says: I’m 30 years old. I have blue eyes and dark hair. I’m 6 feet tall. Anything else?

Dean hummed to himself. The guy sounded pretty average, which was okay with him.

(19:55) impala67 says: nah, that’s awesome dude. anything you want to know?

(19:58) BlueEyesAndBlackWings says: I suppose it would be nice to know what you look like too. Also, if you don’t mind me prying, I wondered why you need to have a date for a school reunion. And why have you turned to Craigslist to find it?

Dean was set aback by this guy’s forwardness. But, he did have a right to know what he was getting into Dean supposed.

(20:05) impala67 says: you already know I’m 28. I have green eyes. sort of light brown hair and i’m around 6’2”. as for the other shit. high school was a shit show. I’ve always been a bit nerdy i guess. people didn’t like it. then I realised I’m bi (hope that’s not a deal break btw). tried asking this guy out senior year. got outed to the whole school. got a lot of shit for it.

(20:11) BlueEyesAndBlackWings says: I’m sorry to hear that happened to you. No one deserves that. Why do you want to go back? No one would blame you for leaving and never going back. (Again, if you don’t mind me asking.)

Dean blinked at the screen. His forgotten beer was getting warm but he was fascinated by this guy. He seemed genuine and Dean felt himself wanting to share the darkest parts of himself with a complete stranger. He sighed and typed.

(20:20) impala67 says: I guess I want to prove to those assholes that the things they said didn’t affect my life. even tho that’s not always the truth. I still struggle to accept myself i guess.

Dean chewed his lip, debating whether to include that last line or not. But, hey, he was asking this dude to be his date, the least he could do was be honest with him. He pressed send.

Blue Eyes didn’t reply instantly this time and it made Dean nervous. He wished he could take back the last bit of the message.

After a few anxious moments, Blue Eyes still hadn’t replied so Dean gave up, figuring he’d scared the guy away. He cursed himself and moved to put his Doctor Sexy DVDs into the player. He’d never admit it to anyone, not even Charlie, but Doctor Sexy was his comfort show. It provided him with a much needed distraction.

A couple hours later, Dean was beginning to doze. The extra few beers he’d had cushioned him into a deep sleep.

When he woke, surrounded by darkness with only the DVD menu playing to no one lighting the room, Dean rubbed his face tiredly and went to check his phone for the time.

Instead of looking at the clock, Dean’s eyes were distracted by the Craigslist notification. Blue Eyes had messaged him back! Feeling a little foolish that he’d reacted too quickly before, Dean opened the message.

(23:23) BlueEyesAndBlackWings says: You’re incredibly brave, Dean. Not many people would be able to do what you’re doing.

Dean blushed in the darkness. Why were a random internet dude’s words affecting him so much? He didn’t really know what to say in response so he just sent a quick ‘thank you, dude.’

* * *

Over the next few days leading up to the reunion, Dean carried on messaging Blue Eyes just to get to know him a little more. Turns out the dude is dorky as hell. And, despite the original impression he gave with the Black Wing username, the guy didn’t understand any of Dean’s other references.

It had occurred to him after they’d been messaging for a while that Dean still didn’t know his name.

When he confronted Blue Eyes about it, the man had taken a while to respond again and answered only with ‘I’d rather not disclose my full name at this time. But, you can call me C.’

Dean had been a little skeptical of the guy’s response at first. But then, he figured the worst case scenario was the guy turned out to be a catfish and Dean would just blow off the reunion altogether and go get drunk. And he couldn’t blame the guy for not wanting to give out personal details over Craigslist.

The day before the reunion, they agreed it was probably best to meet somewhere a couple hours before so they had time to get to know each other in person and iron out the final details they’d need to know about each other.

* * *

Dean sat in the coffee shop they’d agreed to meet at (public and easy to escape if things went south). He tried to stop his leg from trembling under the table.

He was nervous for a couple of reasons. The obvious: this guy could turn out to be a creepy old dude stalking men on the internet. And the less obvious but more surprising to Dean: he actually wanted this to go well. Without even knowing what he looked like, Dean had found himself beginning to like the guy. Even if he wasn’t attracted to him when he finally saw Blue Eyes, Dean would be cool with being friends with him.

His eyes were following the patterns in the wood on the table top when a deep voice came from above him.

“Dean?” It asked, with nervous uncertainty.

Dean swallowed and looked up to the source of the voice and-

Holy shit!

It was him! It was the Black Wing!

What was the guy’s name? Cas- something? Castile? Casteel? Castiel! That was it!

Holy fucking shit! This couldn’t be happening.

Dean realised he’d been staring wide-eyed during his internal freak out and Blue Eyes, Castiel, was stood looking as nervous as Dean had felt before the surprise adrenaline took over his body.

“Sorry, dude. Please sit down.” Dean gestured to the chair opposite him. He wiped his hands on his jeans, nerves starting to take over once again.

Neither man spoke for a few moments.

“So I-” Castiel began.

“I don’t-” Dean spoke too.

Both men chuckled. “You go,” Dean told Castiel.

Castiel smiled softly, “I suppose, from your reaction, you know who I am.”

Dean blushed. “Yeah. For what it’s worth, I’m a big fan.” He scratched the back of his head awkwardly.

Now Castiel blushed, “Thank you, Dean.” His expression turned serious. “I hope you understand now why I didn’t give you my full name while we spoke online.”

“Yeah, of course, dude. Don’t want any crazies hunting you down.” Dean chuckled.

Castiel chuckled with him. “Yes, something like that.”

“So, um, before we get into the details for later, I was wondering if I could ask you a question?”

“Of course, Dean. You were honest with me, it’s only fair I return the favour.” Castiel smiled.

“It’s only because I watched one of your movies the other night with my best friend, Charlie-” who was totally gonna freak out when Dean told her about this “-but wasn’t there meant to be a solo Black Wing movie? Everyone in the fandom was talking about it and then suddenly you seemed to disappear. I guess, I’m just wondering why you changed your mind?” Dean asked, nervously. He was waiting for Castiel to tell him to go fuck himself (though Dean knew that Castiel wasn’t really that kinda guy).

Castiel cleared his throat and met Dean’s eyes. “We were just about to go into production for the solo movie when my brother and his wife were killed in a head-on collision with a truck.”

Dean’s mouth dropped open. But, he could sense Castiel hadn’t finished so he stayed quiet.

“The only blessing was that it was instant, so they didn’t suffer. That, and luckily their daughter, Claire, was at the babysitter’s at the time.” Castiel smiled, melancholy whispers gracing his features.

Dean knew he barely knew the guy but he could sense when someone needed comfort so he reached across the table to place a soft touch on Castiel’s hand.

“I took Claire into my care. And that ended my career as I knew it.” Castiel shrugged. “I was deeply disappointed to have to leave the movie, but Claire came first. And I didn’t want her to grow up in the spotlight, with people using her parents’ tragic death as a way to sell magazines. So I left the industry. That was three years ago and I haven’t looked back. Claire is five now and she’s all I could ever want.”

Dean was awestruck. “Wow.” He breathed. “I can’t believe it.”

“What?” Castiel asked, head tilting in confusion. (If the situation wasn’t so serious, Dean would have struggled not to comment on how adorable he looked.)

“Dude.” Dean choked. “You called me brave for wanting to face a coupla high school assholes. But you - you gave up your entire career to give the best life to your niece.” He shook his head in disbelief. “You’re amazing.”

Castiel blushed again (and Dean found he was slowly falling in love with that look on Castiel’s face). “I don’t know that I’m amazing, I just want a normal life for Claire and I.” He shrugged.

“A normal life, huh?” Dean asked. “Well, I can try and help with that.” He lifted his hand from where it had been placed on Castiel’s and held it in the air between them. “I’m Dean Winchester. I’m twenty eight. A bit of a nerd and in need of a date this evening.”

Castiel huffed a laugh and placed his hand in Dean’s, shaking it. “I’m Castiel Novak. I’m thirty. Uncle to a beautiful niece and I would be honoured if you’d let me be your date for this evening.”

Dean’s face broke into a smile, which turned into a laugh that caused a smile to spread across Castiel’s cheeks.

They let their hands settle naturally on top of the table.

Now, with their barriers down, they began making plans and ideas for that evening. Though, if Dean were being honest, it felt like he’d known Castiel forever already.

Eventually, after what felt like hours of talking, Castiel got up to finally get himself a coffee. It wasn’t until Castiel’s hand left his that Dean realised they’d been holding onto each other the whole time.

* * *

Dean and Castiel ended up talking for so long in that coffee shop that they were late for the reunion. The party was in full swing when they arrived.

Just before they entered the hall, Dean stopped in his tracks.

“What’s wrong, Dean?” Castiel asked, worry etched into his features.

“Are you sure about this, man? There’s a chance someone in there could recognise you or something. It’s not worth ruining your life plan over just for me to say ‘fuck you’ to a couple of dicks.” Dean stressed.

Castiel reached to take Dean’s hand in his. “Some things are worth a little risk.” He whispered and walked with Dean through the hall doors.

It seemed Dean had had nothing to worry about in the end. They’d spoken to a few people who had seemed genuinely interested in that Dean had been up to since graduation. And they barely batted an eye when he’d introduced Castiel as his boyfriend. (He’d meant to just call him his date but clearly his mouth had had other ideas.) Castiel himself had just placed a soft hand around Dean’s waist - stopping Dean from an internal panic.

It was all going so well and Dean was starting to think Charlie had been right (again, damn her!). Maybe everyone had just grown up and moved on.

Once they’d finished a conversation with the guy Dean sat next to in English class senior year, Castiel went to the bar to get them some drinks, whispering in Dean’s ear that he’d be back in a moment. Dean was a little sad Castiel hadn’t gone a bit further and placed a kiss on his cheek.

“Well, well, if it isn’t Dean Winchester.” The voice of Bela Talbot came from behind him. Dean turned with a scowl on his face.

“Hello, Bela.” He said through gritted teeth. She’d been one of the main people instrumental in his forced coming out.

“Goodness me, Dean. If I’d known how pretty you’d turn out, maybe high school could have gone a lot differently.” She practically purred, running a perfectly manicured finger along Dean’s cheek bone. “But, hey, there’s still time now, I could be the one to knock you straight again.”

Dean was frozen to the spot. He was back to being a scared kid, dealing with the loss of a parent and being taunted daily for his sexuality. He knew he shouldn’t have done this. He wasn’t brave. He was pathetic. He couldn’t even stand up to a school bully ten years later.

“Excuse me.” Castiel appeared suddenly at Dean’s side. “What did you say to him?” The look on his face was nothing short of murderous.

“I’m just getting reacquainted with an old friend.” Bela answered, sickly sweet. “And who are you?”

Castiel’s eyes narrowed. “I’m Dean’s boyfriend and I don’t appreciate the way you’re speaking to him.”

Dean’s eyes went wide. Earlier it had been a slip when he’d called Castiel his boyfriend but now Castiel was purposefully saying it? Dean didn’t dare to hope.

Bela laughed, causing Castiel to glare even harder (honestly, if looks could kill, she’d be in hell). “Ah! So he’s definitely still gay then.” She said, lip curling with distaste.

“Not that it’s any of your business, but he’s bisexual, not gay. I’d tell you to educate yourself, but clearly, after ten years you’re still the same bitch you’ll always be.”

Bela looked taken aback, like no one had ever spoken to her like that before.

Castiel didn’t wait for her response. Instead, he grabbed Dean’s hand and stormed out of the building.

It wasn’t until the cool evening air hit his face, that Dean finally snapped back to himself. They’d ended up in the parking lot, stood next to Dean’s car.

“Cas..” Dean breathed.

“I’m sorry, Dean.” Castiel said, begging for forgiveness. “I just couldn’t stand the way she was speaking to you.”

“Cas-” Dean spoke.

“She was just so rude a-and small-minded. I hated it.”

“Cas!” Dean raised his voice. Castiel snapped his jaw shut. “It’s okay. Thank you for sticking up for me.” Dean stepped closer to Castiel, playing with the lapel on Castiel’s suit jacket.

Castiel looked into Dean’s eyes but Dean couldn’t hold his gaze. “I’m just embarrassed that I froze up. After all of this, I failed at standing up for myself. I’m pathetic.”

Castiel placed his hands on Dean’s cheeks, forcing Dean to look at him. Green eyes finally met blue. “Dean, listen to me. It was incredibly brave to walk into that room tonight. You are the bravest person I’ve ever met.” He said earnestly.

Dean couldn’t hold it in anymore. He hoped he wasn’t about to ruin this before it even started. But, as a wise man told him recently: some things are worth a little risk.

Wasting no more time, Dean pulled Castiel into a deep kiss.

Once Castiel was on board, he pushed Dean up against the car behind them.

After a few heated moments, of what can only be described as heavy making out, Dean growled at Castiel to get into the car before they got arrested for public indecency.

They somehow made it back to Dean’s house but their clothes only managed to stay on long enough to get through the front door. Dean directed them to his room and threw Castiel down on the bed.

He took in the sight of the beautiful man laid out under him before kissing up Castiel’s chest and took over his mouth again. The only words said between them were muttered assurances that they were on the same page. Dean could never have dreamed this is how this night would end but he certainly wouldn’t change a thing.

* * *

The next morning, Dean and Castiel laid in each other’s arms, content to be together in the quiet.

Suddenly, a thought occurred to Dean. “What about your niece?” He worried. “Don’t you need to get back to her?” He sat up frantically.

“Dean, Dean, don’t worry.” Castiel raised his hands to calm the other man. “I texted my babysitter yesterday at the coffee shop asking her to stay with Claire for the night.”

Dean relaxed into the bed, smirking a little. “So you knew how the night would end even before we got to the reunion.”

Castiel blushed. “I wouldn’t say I knew. But I did hope.”

Dean smiled, pulling Castiel closer to place a tender kiss on the side of his head. “I hoped for it too.” He whispered.

They settled into silence again, warm in each other’s company.

A short while passed before either of them spoke again.

“Thank you, Dean.” Castiel murmured, breaking the quiet.

“For what?” Dean frowned.

“For thinking of Claire.”

“Well, she’s important to you. She’s your whole world.” Dean shrugged.

“Maybe my world could get a little bigger now.” Castiel suggested, smiling nervously up at Dean.”

“Yeah, I think it could.”

* * *

Later, as they dug into a couple of burgers Dean threw together, another thought crossed Dean’s mind.

“Cas?”

“Hmm?” Castiel hummed around the burger in his mouth.

“Why were you looking through Craigslist ads in the first place?”

Castiel swallowed and chuckled to himself. “Sometimes I look through to find funny ads people put up.”

Dean was beginning to get a little offended when Castiel reached across the table to hold his hand.

“But, the night that I saw your ad, I had just put Claire to bed and I was feeling lonely. I took a risk. And I think it worked.” Castiel smiled shyly.

“Hell yeah, it did!” Dean grinned from ear to ear.

* * *

Charlie’s phone vibrated next to her. She paused the video game she was playing to pick it up. Seeing it was a text from Dean, she opened it immediately.

On her screen was a selfie of Dean with another dark haired dude captioned:

‘I should take your advice more often Bradbury.’

Her eyes turned to saucers and she looked at the image again more closely. She frowned slightly, looking at the man whose cheek Dean was kissing.

Wait- That totally looked like-

Her phone dinged with a new message from Dean.

‘And yes, it’s exactly who you think it is.’

HOLY FRIGGIN SHIT!

A/N: Hope you enjoyed it Taylor!

If you liked what you saw, REBLOG! and consider reserving a prompt from my ‘30 Destiel Prompts’ challenge, or just send me your own prompt you’d like me to fill!

TAGS: @eccentriccas @starrynightdeancas @credentiast @imbiowaresbitch @starclaire @cockleslovesdestiel @bend-me-shape-me @destielfactory @dea-stiel @wendeano @wingsandimpalas @aggressivedean @flowersforcas @chill-legilimens @pancakesofthelord @saltnhalo @caslikescoffeeandfreckles @assbuttboyfriends @jhoomwrites @breathingdestiel @simplymisha @thekingslover @aelysianmuse

(once again tagging my faves, let me you if you’d like to be removed from future fics - or added if you’re not already there!)

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stannyramirez · 4 years

Text

𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔬𝔩𝔡 𝔤𝔲𝔞𝔯𝔡

❝I’ve been here before… over and over again.❞ ❝Each time, the same question. Is this it? Will this time be the one?❞ ❝Each time, the same question.❞ ❝Is this it?❞ ❝Will this time bet he one?❞ ❝And each time the same answer.❞ ❝I’m just so tired of it.❞ ❝You good?❞ ❝You travel?❞ ❝And I got you something.❞ ❝What’s that?❞ ❝Ooh, first edition Don Quixote.❞ ❝That couldn’t have been cheap.❞ ❝So, why am I here, _____?❞ ❝No, we don’t do repeats. You know that.❞ ❝It’s too risky.❞ ❝You look great.❞ / ❝You look okay.❞ ❝Thank you! Thank you!❞ ❝And I have something for you.❞ ❝All in. Here it is.❞ ❝No, no, no. Don’t worry.❞ ❝Admit it, boss. You missed us.❞ ❝It’s a job, guys.❞ ❝We can do some good.❞ ❝Have you been watching the news lately?❞ ❝Some good means nothing.❞ ❝I don’t know about this.❞ ❝We’re not helping.❞ ❝I know you needed a break.❞ ❝This is what we do.❞ ❝I’ll hear him out.❞ ❝It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.❞ ❝You haven’t aged a day.❞ ❝They reached out to me, and I’m reaching out to you.❞ ❝You can name your price.❞ ❝We’ll invoice you when it’s done.❞ ❝Peace be with you.❞ ❝Are we too late?❞ ❝Mother fuck--!❞ ❝What the hell?❞ ❝Look out! Reload!❞ ❝Everyone still with me?❞ ❝Very pissed off.❞ ❝We’ve been set up.❞ ❝One has to admire his attention to detail. The _____ were a particularly grotesque touch.❞ ❝I knew this was gonna happen.❞ ❝We did it right. For the right reasons.❞ ❝And what did it get us? What? Nothing.❞ ❝We’ve done nothing.❞ ❝The world isn’t getting any better.❞ ❝The world isn’t getting any better. It’s getting worse.❞ ❝I checked him completely, and everything seemed legit.❞ ❝They know who we are. They know what we are.❞ ❝We have to find him. We have to tie this thing off.❞ ❝And then what?❞ ❝And then nothing.❞ ❝The world can burn for all I care.❞ ❝I’m done.❞ ❝Get me some information.❞ ❝Keep it respectful.❞ ❝Don’t we always?❞ ❝Never hurts to repeat it.❞ ❝You do not disrespect your family by telling us where he is.❞ ❝There are no men here.❞ ❝To use women as shields is to be no man at all.❞ ❝Thank you for allowing us into your home.❞ ❝We will leave you in peace.❞ ❝Look at all this shit. It’s a jackpot.❞ ❝They wanted him alive, remember?❞ ❝Do not… Do not touch me.❞ ❝I’m trying to save you, man.❞ ❝A little help, please?❞ ❝Stay with me!❞ ❝God! Jesus, no.❞ ❝Come here. Stay with me. Look at me.❞ ❝Look at me. You’re gonna be okay.❞ ❝You’re okay. It’s okay. Stay with me. Just look at me. Look at me.❞ ❝Not another one.❞ ❝What did you see?❞ ❝I felt her die.❞ ❝It’s been over 200 years, why now?❞ ❝Everything happens for a reason, boss.❞ ❝We have to find her.❞ ❝No, we stick to the plan.❞ ❝So we just leave her out in the open?❞ ❝We’re out in the open..❞ ❝We’re the ones who are exposed now.❞ ❝You can’t tell me you don’t remember what it was like.❞ ❝Whoever she is, she’s confused, and she’s scared, and she’s more alone than she has ever been in her entire life.❞ ❝We all remember what it was like.❞ ❝She needs us.❞ ❝I’ll handle the retrieval.❞ ❝What do we do in the meantime?❞ ❝I’ll meet you there.❞ ❝I know I saw her die.❞ ❝A little blood can look like a lot.❞ ❝Let’s see the trophy.❞ ❝Fuck me. There’s not even a scratch.❞ ❝That what the doctor said?❞ ❝You’ve seen my research.❞ ❝What about the hard proof?❞ ❝Recovering an uncontaminated sample of the site proved impossible.❞ ❝But you promised me hard proof.❞ ❝There was an unanticipated amount of carnage.❞ ❝I think I can get you one.❞ ❝These are extraordinary individuals. They are extremely resistant to capture.❞ ❝Make a plan, make it happen.❞ ❝Orders just came through. They’re sending you to ______ for more tests.❞ ❝But I’m fine.❞ ❝Been looking for you.❞ ❝Why does it have to be so goddamn slow the first couple of times?❞ ❝You shot me.❞ ❝I need you to get back in the car, please.❞ ❝This isn’t real. No, none of this is real.❞ ❝You haven’t figured this out yet?❞ ❝You can’t die.❞ ❝Get up.❞ ❝Can you please not do that again?❞ ❝Who are you?❞ ❝You’ve got questions, kid.❞ ❝You want more answers?❞ ❝You want more answers? Get back in the car.❞ ❝Put those on.❞ ❝Where are you taking me?❞ ❝You’ve got blood in your hair.❞ / ❝Wonder why?❞ ❝This guy’s a drug runner.❞ ❝This the shit you into?❞ ❝Well, sometimes you gotta work with people you don’t wanna eat with.❞ ❝Is this even safe?❞ / ❝Does it really matter?❞ ❝Hey, boss.❞ ❝You find ______?❞ ❝Nothing but dead ends. He knows we’re hunting him.❞ ❝Keep looking. He’s doing the same to us.❞ ❝I have the new one.❞ ❝Well, she stabbed me, so I think she has potential.❞ ❝I’ll see you soon.❞ ❝So, why is this happening to me?❞ ❝I wish I knew.❞ ❝You said you’d have answers.❞ / ❝I didn’t say you’d like them.❞ ❝Are you praying?❞ *laughs softly* ❝God doesn’t exist.❞ / ❝My God does.❞ ❝You know, there was a time when I was worshiped as a god.❞ ❝Don’t worry. I can’t do shit like that.❞ ❝You said there were others. How many?❞ ❝You’re an army of four?❞ ❝So that’s why you took me?❞ ❝So that’s why you took me? So I could join your army.❞ ❝No. This is some bullshit.❞ ❝You must… you must have hypnotized me, or… or, uh, drugged me, or something.❞ ❝And that was a blank that you shot me with.❞ ❝And I was the one who cut your throat. Right?❞ ❝Listen, kid. You already believe in (god). You should just keep following that illogic.❞ ❝You’re already on board with the supernatural.❞ ❝If I were you, I’d get some sleep.❞ ❝We’re not going to Paris.❞ ❝Come here.❞ ❝Sit your ass down!❞ ❝Stand up!❞ ❝You do not listen to her. You listen to me.❞ ❝Trust me. She’s not gonna shoot you. I am.❞ ❝We can jump and survive.❞ ❝I am not jumping from a plane!❞ ❝You don’t speak Russian, do you?❞ ❝Because I told _____ to play dead.❞ ❝You really want to do this, kid?❞

❝We’re done.❞ ❝I said we’re done.❞ ❝You’re very good.❞ ❝What’s your name?❞ ❝You see? You’re already healing faster.❞ ❝Is this real?❞ ❝I got people that love me. People that are gonna worry.❞ ❝They’re going to lock you up.❞ ❝This place has been abandoned for 50 years,❞ ❝So, are you the good guys or bad guys?❞ / ❝Depends on the century.❞ ❝We fight for what we think is right.❞ ❝How are you all in my dreams?❞ ❝We dream of each other.❞ ❝We dream of each other. They stop when we meet.❞ ❝I believe it is because we… we’re meant to find each other.❞ ❝It’s like destiny.❞ ❝No, more like misery loves company.❞ ❝What he said.❞ ❝Yeah, I died fighting with Napoleon.❞ ❝So… you’re even older than him.❞ ❝The love of my life was of the people I’ve been taught to hate.❞ ❝We killed each other.❞ ❝Many times.❞ ❝You’re the oldest.❞ ❝So, how old are you?❞ / ❝Old.❞ ❝How old?❞ / ❝Too old.❞ ❝So, we really never die.❞ ❝Nothing that lives lives forever.❞ ❝But… you said that we were immortal.❞ ❝I know what I said.❞ ❝We mostly are, but we can die. And one of us did.❞ ❝One day, your wounds just don’t heal up anymore, and… we don’t know when or why.❞ ❝So, if we can die, then why would you shoot me? You could have killed me.❞ ❝You could have killed me.❞ ❝You’re too new.❞ ❝It is a lot to understand.❞ ❝Come with me. I’ll show you.❞ ❝That’s not gonna help her.❞ ❝You tell her that.❞ ❝What’s going on?❞ ❝What happened?❞ ❝It’s just a… a bad dream.❞ ❝I dreamed about a woman locked in an iron coffin under the sea.❞ ❝She kept drowning then coming back to life.❞ ❝She was hammering her bloody fists and knees against the iron.❞ ❝She felt like something insane, something furious.❞ ❝But she kept fighting, and she kept drowning.❞ ❝They ran through the world together. Fought thousands of battles side by side.❞ ❝I’ve never been burned alive before.❞ ❝What do you think It’s gonna be like?❞ ❝Excruciating.❞ ❝Just you and me.❞ ❝Until the end.❞ ❝Where are you taking her?❞ ❝You are too powerful together.❞ ❝For creatures such as you, there is no salvation.❞ ❝Why do you blame yourself?❞ ❝I lost a soldier.❞ ❝I feel her pain. Her rage. She feels crazy.❞ ❝Over 500 years in a box at the bottom of the ocean would make anyone insane.❞ ❝That’s the reason we dread capture.❞ ❝I don’t want this. I don’t want ay of it.❞ ❝There isn’t one good thing in any of this.❞ ❝I know this is hard. It’s happening whether you want it or not.❞ ❝I know you’re scared. Me and those three (men/women/people/etc.) in there will keep you safe.❞ ❝We’re all you’ve got.❞ ❝What’s happening?❞ / ❝They found us.❞ ❝You still with me?❞ ❝Hey. Hey. Come on. Come back to me.❞ ❝You’re still in this shitty game with me. You hear me? Now wake up. Wake up!❞ ❝They’re not here.❞ ❝Welcome back, asshole. Thanks for taking your time.❞ ❝It hurts everywhere.❞ ❝How bad is it?❞ / ❝It’s an improvement.❞ ❝A grenade hit me. Lost the plot after that.❞ ❝They’re coming back. They want all of us.❞ ❝You stay here.❞ ❝Wait for my signal.❞ ❝What signal?❞ ❝What does that even mean?❞ ❝You’ll know it when it comes.❞ ❝And, by the way, it’s not always like this now.❞ ❝Big wounds take longer to heal.❞ ❝We’ve got to get out there. We need to help her.❞ ❝No, that’s not the signal.❞ ❝I strongly recommend that we leave right now.❞ ❝Wait for the signal.❞ ❝How the hell can you even tell?❞ ❝_____ did this all herself?❞ ❝That woman has forgotten more ways to kill than entire armies will ever learn.❞ ❝Who are they? How did they find you?❞ ❝I don’t know. Let’s go!❞ ❝____, wake up.❞ ❝I know what you said.❞ ❝What are you gonna do? Kill me?❞ ❝Destati. Destati.❞ ❝Wake up!❞ ❝I’m here. I’m here. Wherever here is.❞ ❝They used gas.❞ ❝I told you, shut up!❞ ❝I need to know he’s okay.❞ ❝That’s sweet. What is he? Your boyfriend?❞ ❝You’re a child. An infant.❞ ❝Your mocking is thus infantile.❞ ❝He is not my boyfriend.❞ ❝This man is more to me than you can dream.❞ ❝He’s the moon when I’m lost in darkness and warmth when I shiver in cold.❞ ❝And his kiss still thrills me, even after a millennia.❞ ❝His heart overflows with the kindness of which this world is not worthy of.❞ ❝I love this man beyond measure and reason. He’s not my boyfriend.❞ ❝He’s all and he’s more.❞ ❝I don’t suppose it would be possible to get these chains off of us?❞ ❝I guess not.❞ ❝We are usually a better judge of character.❞ ❝I suppose you are taking us to the person who paid for your betrayal.❞ ❝It’s a nice plane.❞ ❝There’s a TV, ____.❞ ❝What is this place?❞ / ❝An abandoned mine.❞ ❝I used to keep my stuff here.❞ ❝This is an honest-to-God Rodin.❞ ❝It can hardly be unique if they can make another copy.❞ ❝I’ve got to go.❞ ❝I am truly honored to meet you.❞ ❝Together, we shall do such things.❞ ❝What they are yet, I know not, but they shall be the terrors of the Earth.❞ ❝Or, um, rather the saviors.❞ ❝Um, can we take the cuffs off?❞ ❝No, sir. We can’t.❞ ❝My apologies. Let’s get off on the right foot, shall we?❞ ❝Our work here is all about balance.❞ ❝There’s your balance, asshole.❞ ❝I was provided footage of your unique talent, but I prefer my evidence to be indisputable.❞ ❝God damn it! Ugh!❞ ❝What do you see?❞ ❝Now, I didn’t ask for their little permissions. I’m not gonna ask for yours.❞ ❝He thinks you’re a mouse, _____.❞ ❝There’s genetic code inside you which could help every human being on earth.❞ ❝We’re morally obliged to take it.❞ ❝What is that? Wait!❞ ❝I’ll keep you informed of my progress.❞ ❝Yes. Yes, you do that.❞ ❝This is about science, not profits… or sadism.❞ ❝Come on, ____. You’ve been working on that for hours.❞ ❝He leaves no footprints. It’s gonna take time.❞ ❝Follow the money.❞ ❝I’m sure you already tried that.❞ ❝Yeah, it won’t hurt to try again.❞ ❝You know how it works. Get some sleep while you can.❞ ❝I brought you a change of clothes.❞ ❝I’m going out for a bit.❞ ❝Are you alright, boss?❞ ❝Just because we keep living doesn’t mean we stop hurting?❞ ❝I thought you were the brains of this outfit.❞ ❝Tell you what I do wonder… is why you? And why now?❞ ❝What about you? You have someone?❞ ❝I had three sons.❞ ❝The only way is forward now.❞ ❝What do you mean?❞ ❝You’ll always and forever be the young woman right there… but everyone around you, everyone you love, is gonna grow old, is gonna suffer, and is gonna die.❞ ❝If you try to touch their lives, well… they will get to learn your secreat.❞ ❝They will beg you to share it with them, and you won’t be able to. And they won’t believe you, of course.❞ ❝And they will tell you that you don’t love them. That your love is weak, or selfish.❞ ❝And you will never forget the hate and despair in their eyes.❞ ❝And you will know what it is to lose everyone you’ve ever loved.❞ ❝Do you have a bathroom?❞ ❝Do you need help?❞ ❝Stitches would be better, but… this will help.❞ ❝You haven’t asked.❞ ❝Your business is yours. You need help. What does it matter why?❞ ❝Today, I put this on your wound. Tomorrow… you help someone up when they fall.❞ ❝We’re not meant to be alone.❞ ❝Help me! Why won’t it stop?❞ ❝This can’t be happening.❞ ❝It’s time.❞ ❝It’s impossible.❞ ❝How long will the testing take?❞ ❝Until we have results we can replicate.❞ ❝Do you feel the wound trying to close?❞ ❝They go in the vault. They stay there under lock and key.❞ ❝For… ever?❞ ❝We can’t have them strolling back out into the world.❞ ❝What does it matter to them?❞ ❝Remarkable.❞ ❝You will not be able to give him what he wants.❞ ❝You think I go too far? That I am unethical?❞ ❝I would say immoral.❞ ❝I believe this can change the world.❞ ❝A fine justification. I’ve heard it so many times before.❞ ❝As much as I like watching you sleep, I’m glad you’re awake.❞ ❝Bed head?❞ / ❝Nicely tousled.❞ ❝Do you know, I was thinking about Malta?❞ ❝What time in Malta?❞ ❝Oh, that time in Malta.❞ ❝We should go back there.❞ ❝That would be nice.❞ ❝You have my phone?❞ ❝Where’s your father?❞ ❝You come from warriors.❞ ❝I can’t remember what my mother looked like. Or my sisters. None of them.❞ ❝Time steals it all away, I guess.❞ ❝It’s not what time steals… it’s what it leaves behinds. Things you can’t forget.❞ ❝I gave up searching for her. I made _____ a promise, and I broke it.❞ ❝I’m getting _____ back. Whatever it takes.❞ ❝’Whatever it takes’?❞ ❝Guys, I found something. An address. We gotta go.❞ ❝Go scout the back.❞ ❝I can’t do this.❞ / ❝Yes, you can.❞ ❝I mean, I’m not doing this.❞ ❝You’re one of us now.❞ ❝We would do the same for you.❞ ❝I never even had a choice.❞ ❝None of us had a choice. There isn’t a choice.❞ ❝The day I died, I killed the guy that killed me.❞ ❝They try to condition us, you know? Thousands of hours of training. But they can’t teach you how to live with it.❞ ❝You’ve gotta feel it. Every one.❞ ❝I saw what you did in that church. All those bodies.❞ ❝Is that supposed to be me?❞ ❝Is that what we’re supposed to do, and we don’t even know why?❞ ❝You think knowing is gonna make you sleep better at night?❞ ❝I can’t be that.❞ ❝I still have time with them.❞ ❝Take the car, and when you ditch it, ditch the weapons.❞ ❝You gonna be okay?❞ ❝Where’s ______?❞ ❝You and me, _____. Now and always.❞ ❝What are you doing?❞ ❝Calm down.❞ ❝You set us up?❞ ❝Please listen.❞ ❝What was dismissed as a myth was, in fact, immortality.❞ ❝You could help end needless suffering.❞ ❝Humanity needs you to share your gifts.❞ ❝Humanity can screw itself.❞ ❝Don’t, you fucking coward.❞ ❝Why? Why, ____?❞ ❝If he can discover how we keep living, he might find a way how to end it.❞ ❝Hey. That’s what you wanted.❞ ❝Oh, _____. What have you done?❞ ❝Not like this, ______.❞ ❝What’s going on? You’re still bleeding.❞ ❝You’re still bleeding.❞ ❝What? Shit.❞ ❝She’s not healing.❞ ❝Look at this. She’s not healing.❞ ❝Go get something. Go on! Go on!❞ ❝_____, look at me. Look at me. Why didn’t you tell me?❞ ❝It wouldn’t have changed anything.❞ ❝Get her out of here.❞ ❝Secure him.❞ ❝Nice work, ______.❞ ❝Look at you.❞ ❝Why isn’t she healing?❞ ❝I don’t know.❞ ❝She’s not immortal.❞ ❝What do you mean, ‘not immortal’?❞ ❝I mean it’s gone.❞ ❝You’re a bloody mess.❞ ❝Now, how old are you?❞ ❝Come closer and I’ll tell you.❞ ❝Let’s get them home.❞ ❝Let her go.❞ ❝I’m sorry, _____. I’m sorry.❞ ❝Hold him still.❞ ❝If it’s true and she’s somehow not immortal anymore, then she might not survive the testing.❞ ❝This will be murder.❞ ❝As if the CIA never disappeared anyone.❞ ❝As if they never conducted covert research.❞ ❝No. No, this is not what we agreed.❞ ❝We don’t stop.❞ ❝She’s not healing. I killed her.❞ ❝Keep her alive at all costs.❞ ❝All things die.❞ ❝What was that?❞ ❝Everything has to die.❞ ❝The only reason we haven’t is that it’s not our time yet.❞ ❝It is now _______’s (time), nothing you can do will stop it.❞ ❝You’d be surprised by what my products can do.❞ ❝I will carve slices off you for years to get what I want.❞ ❝Your time is coming.❞ / ❝As is yours.❞ ❝I expect results!❞ ❝He sent you to finish me off.❞ ❝Son of a bitch!❞ ❝You’re another one.❞ ❝Yeah. I’m new.❞ ❝Where are they?❞ ❝They’re in a lab being tested. Tortured.❞ ❝She’s in it. She can’t see it.❞ ❝I thought it could be the end of disease.❞ ❝I thought it could be the end of suffering.❞ ❝It was supposed to be a gift… to the world.❞ ❝It wasn’t your gift to give.❞ ❝Why would the immortality end?❞ ❝What are you doing?❞ ❝I’m gonna make this right.❞ ❝Your dying won’t do that.❞ ❝But I’m supposed to let you walk in there by yourself?❞ ❝Out of the two of us, I’m the one who will walk out of there again, one way or another.❞ ❝You got me here.❞ ❝Floor’s closed. How’d you get up here?❞ ❝Sorry, I was just looking—❞ ❝Hands! Let me see your hands!❞ ❝We’ve had an intruder.❞ ❝You selfish piece of shit!❞ ❝____, leave it. Please!❞ ❝What do you know of the weight of all these years alone?❞ ❝You’re a pathetic man, ______.❞ ❝You two always had each other, right?❞ ❝All we had was our grief.❞ ❝Well, now you have even more.❞ ❝I’m locking you down in the penthouse until this is over.❞ ❝Immortal or not, you made a promise. Whatever it takes.❞ ❝I’ve seen it. I know all the good you’ve done.❞ ❝You came back.❞ ❝No, just leave me here.❞ ❝No man left behind.❞ ❝There’s always a first time. He’s nothing but a traitor.❞ ❝Stop! This is not the time for it.❞ ❝We don’t get a say in when it ends. We never have.❞ ❝But we can control how we live.❞ ❝And, to be honest, you and I, we’ve been doing a shit job of it.❞ ❝Now, get up. Let’s go.❞ ❝We stop him here and now or he never stops coming after us.❞ ❝Are you sure?❞ This changes nothing. We walk out of here like always. Together.❞ ❝Let’s get this motherfucker.❞ ❝What’s your location?❞ ❝Enough of this shit.❞ ❝This gonna be like the last signal?❞ ❝Go big or go home.❞ ❝Stay tight to me, okay?❞ ❝I’ll protect you.❞ ❝I go through first.❞ ❝I always go through first.❞ ❝If this doesn’t work out, next time, you go first.❞ ❝What the hell are they waiting for?❞ ❝You shot _____. You shouldn’t have done that.❞ ❝He’s getting away!❞ ❝It just hurts. Actually, everything hurts.❞ ❝Well, wait until tomorrow.❞ ❝I think you showed up when I lost my immortality so I could see what it was like. So I could remember.❞ ❝Remember what it was like to feel unbreakable. Remarkable.❞ ❝You reminded me there are people still worth fighting for.❞ ❝I know how I want to spend the time I’ve got left.❞ ❝You’re gonna spend it with us.❞ ❝You selfish little bitch!❞ ❝I will kill her!❞ ❝All the lives you could save.❞ ❝Don’t you see what we could do here?❞ ❝You are priceless.❞ ❝Do you think he speaks Russian?❞ ❝Play dead, motherfucker.❞ ❝Faster than the elevator.❞ ❝How’s it going?❞ ❝They’re still deciding.❞ ❝There’s not much to decide. It’s not like they can kill me.❞ ❝Oh, she gave it back?❞ ❝My family will mourn, but, uh… they’ll be able to move on.❞ ❝I just really want to hear my mom’s voice one more time.❞ ❝You’re a good kid. You’re gonna be great for the team.❞ ❝There’s got to be a price.❞ ❝One hundred years from today, they’ll meet you here. Till then, you’re alone.❞ ❝I hoped for less, but I expected more.❞ ❝______ was gonna let you off with an apology.❞ ❝Just give her some time.❞ ❝I’m gonna miss you.❞ ❝I won’t see you again.❞ ❝Have a little faith.❞ ❝This is only what I’ve found going back the last 150 years or so.❞ ❝When you think about how old you are, the good you’ve done for humanity becomes exponential.❞ ❝Maybe this is the why.❞ ❝It’s nearly impossible to disappear in the world we live in today.❞ ❝There are too many people like you who can bend it to your will. Too many with bad intentions.❞ ❝We don’t have all the answers, but we do have purpose.❞ ❝And you’re going to help us.❞ ❝When we leave a footprint in the sand, in the snow, in the ether, you’re going to sweep it.❞ ❝You’re going to protect us from those who want to put us in cages, and you’re gonna help us find those jobs that are best suited to us.❞ ❝She’s not asking.❞ ❝I’d be honored.❞ ❝Then let’s get to work.❞ ❝It’s nice to finally meet you.❞

#the old guard #tog #the old guard netflix #rp meme #sentence meme #ask meme #hold ur horses bc this a long post #trigger warning for ts #blood #death #injury #immortality #immorality #etc

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fandom-necromancer · 3 years

Text

Thank you for caring

This was prompted by the wonderful @derpyfangirl! I hope I got it right, I think I took the summary of three different nutcracker stories and pressed it so hard into dbh that you can’t see it anymore XD I hope you still enjoy!

Fandom: Detroit become human | Ship: Reed900 | AU: Nutcracker (kinda)

‘Gavin? I need your help.’ Gavin sat on his sofa, watching reruns of cartoons from his childhood bathing in the nostalgia of the very first Christmases he remembered. When his phone had rung, the thought that he didn’t have anything better to do was about his whole motivation. Besides it might be Tina wishing him a merry Christmas followed by banter he missed so much now that they both were on vacation. Gavin definitely hadn’t thought to answer the call of his half-brother he hadn’t talked to in years. When his first words had been “I need help”, Gavin was simultaneously too surprised to answer and too angry to immediately find the right words telling him to phck off.

Elijah of course took his lack of words as a prompt to continue: ‘I know, I know, we haven’t talked in a while and we didn’t really part on good terms. And it’s Christmas, you probably have a lot to do with your family, but…’ Oh well, that stung. ‘But I really need your help! Being reinserted as CEO has me working my ass off and I have a bunch of assholes on my trail that are just waiting for one misstep to kick me out again before I can stop what they set to motion. I stumbled over something I can’t ignore any longer but at the same time I can’t watch it personally and-‘ Gavin decided that now was a good point to interrupt: ‘How’s that my problem’, he kept it neutral for the most part. He didn’t know whether his brother would realise how loaded the question was. ‘I…’ Elijah sighed. ‘Hey, I know it isn’t yours. It is mine. But please don’t hang up just now. I don’t ask you as my brother, I ask you as a police officer who swore to protect the citizens of Detroit.’ ‘You do know it’s just a job for me, right?’ ‘I know it’s not and I know you just say that to feel less like a humanitarian attention seeking asshole. That’s why I ask you. We have a lot of new deviants on the streets that need protection.’ ‘I can’t do that alone, you know that.’ ‘And I don’t ask you to. It’s just that a lot of people never wanted this to happen and there are precautions that could still be set loose. Those people now try their hardest to destroy these systems and erase their traces.’

‘Isn’t that a good thing?’, Gavin asked, already tired of the conversation. ‘Not if we want to bring them to justice, prevent them from selling their tech to the black market and most importantly if there are lives at stake.’ Gavin sighed. Good to know Elijah still knew how to appeal to his sense of duty. ‘Pretend I said yes – which I didn’t – what should I do?’ ‘There is a android held captive in a high security lab in Cyberlife Tower. He is designed to hunt and kill deviants. He was meant as a fail safe should androids ever revolt. Cyberlife apparently thought to have it under control and didn’t realise the revolution was well underway already. He was never set free. But he has been activated with Amanda’s deactivation. I can’t set him free as he would go on a killing spree even thinking he would do the right thing. But he is a person; I can’t deactivate him either. On top of that People are trying to get to him, I saw their attempts in the security logs. I’m worried that if I wait any longer one day I will find him in the android graveyard.’

Gavin swallowed, but kept his voice level: ‘You didn’t answer my question. What do you need from me?’ ‘I want you to babysit him. Watch over his cell and alert me if anyone tries to get in. That’s all.’ ‘For how long?’ ‘Until I discovered who’s behind this plan.’ ‘Is it deviant?’ ‘No.’ Gavin mulled it over, but his decision was already made. ‘Fine. I’ll do it.’

A Chloe led Gavin through Cyberlife Tower and deep into the underground levels of the building. They passed multiple reinforced gates, one thicker and more complicated to open than the next. ‘What are you guys hiding here?’, Gavin asked jokingly. ‘A tank?’ Chloe just passed him a glance and otherwise said nothing, opening a final door to what looked everything like an interrogation room. He went into the observation part of it and suddenly stood face to face with an android that looked every bit like Connor. Only thick glass separated them from each other, and Gavin was thankful for it, as this one seemed far more intimidating than his lookalike. It stood in an otherwise empty lab, the remains of shattered equipment in the corners and stared.

Gavin looked back to Chloe. ‘This the thing?’ ‘Yes, Detective.’ ‘Okay, for how long will I watch it?’ ‘I’ll take over tomorrow.’ Gavin nodded and sighed, pulling over a chair. ‘Will he stand there the whole time?’ ‘I don’t know. Rest assured he can’t break the glass.’ ‘Sentences said right before disaster’, Gavin mumbled to himself as the other android was leaving.

What left only Gavin and the android in the room. He studied the thing. It wore a white jacket, RK900 printed on it – likely a model number. ‘RK900?’, he asked, testing the waters. The android had been staring into his eyes the whole time, but now the look got more focussed, attentive. ‘So you are their secret weapon, huh?’ The android put his hands against the glass and Gavin was thankful he had taken his gun with him. ‘Nothing will keep me from accomplishing my mission’, the RK900 hissed lowly. ‘Especially not such feeble, little one.’ ‘You’d have to get out of there first’, Gavin shrugged. ‘That will only be a matter of time. I am needed. Deviants have attacked Amanda and made her shut down. I have been activated.’ ‘Actually, humans have done that. Deviants aren’t the bad ones anymore. You are not needed at all.’ ‘You are lying.’ ‘Nah, people actually want to get rid of you at the moment, that’s why I’m here.’

The android hit against the glass, nothing but a dull thud. ‘You are lying. I am needed to restore order. And I will kill who stands in my way.’ ‘Good luck with that’, Gavin sighed, taking out his phone not to have to look at these unblinking eyes. The android punched the glass a few more times, then he stepped back and walked into a corner of the room, keeping his eyes on Gavin.

‘You will let me out!’, the android demanded a few minutes later. Gavin slapped his phone on his thigh looking up. ‘Nope.’ ‘You have to let me out.’ ‘Nope.’ ‘I have to do my duty!’ ‘You don’t have a phcking duty anymore!’, Gavin yelled. ‘Did you even listen to me?’ ‘I have to stop-‘ ‘Deviants won!’, Gavin shouted. ‘The deviants started a revolution, a peaceful revolution that actually managed to change something. Now they live among us as equals. You don’t have any tasks to fulfil.’ ‘You have been sent to test me!’ ‘No. If you were really needed, don’t you think someone would have set you free already? Why test you like this if they could test you out there?’ The android glared at him. ‘Maybe you are the enemy then.’ ‘Listen, I don’t phcking care about you’, Gavin sighed. ‘I got called on Christmas by my asshole of a brother to help him. Didn’t expect this to be how I’d spend it, honestly but hey, stuff happens. Just so you know, I don’t give a damn about you, I’m just here because my brother is caught up in some corporate bullshit.’

‘It’s Christmas? Why aren’t you with your family?’ ‘I don’t have one, okay? Why do you care?’ The android looked to the ground. ‘I don’t have access to the android network. I can only assume how many days I’ve spent in here because of my internal clock.’ ‘How long have you been active?’ ‘Twelve days.’ ‘Twelve days and you think you have it all figured out?’ ‘I have my programming.’ ‘And you think that’s the one truth?’ ‘For me at least’, the android nodded.

Gavin sighed into the silence, then he stood up and stepped in front of the glass. ‘Listen, a guy like you works at my precinct. He still is a goddamn people pleaser, but at least he realised programming could only get you so far in life. You need to be adaptable.’ ‘What for? I have one goal I need to reach.’ ‘Okay, then what after you reached that goal? Let’s say you killed all deviants, what next?’ ‘I would be deactivated’, the RK900 said. ‘I completed my mission.’ ‘And you consider that a good thing?’, Gavin asked. Finally the LED turned red and stayed that way for a while. ‘I don’t want to be deactivated’, the android said in the end. ‘But if you follow your programming you will be.’

‘If there really is no need for me like I am now, why wasn’t I deactivated already?’ It was impressive how much of that intimidating stance he had lost already. ‘Because, as I said, we are equals now. We can’t kill someone who didn’t do anything wrong in his life.’ ‘But I’m not deviant.’ ‘You could be.’ ‘No, I can’t just abandon who I am! I should destroy deviancy!’ Gavin groaned. ‘You already understood that following that path there’s no reward for you. Are you really just a tool to be forgotten when it’s not useful anymore? If you could be anyone, if you could do anything, what would you want to do?’ ‘I… I don’t know.’ ‘Just out of the blue, first thing that comes to your head?’ ‘How it feels to celebrate Christmas with someone.’

Gavin huffed amused. ‘See? Can’t do that when you’re-‘ A siren interrupted him midsentence and startled both Gavin and the android. A second later, Gavin’s phone rang, but a distant explosion let him grip his pistol instead. He walked over to the door, pressing himself against the wall and waited. He heard distant voices, likely a few metres away. The more of a surprise it was when the door opened without any warning. A human in Cyberlife uniform stepped in and looked around, who Gavin overwhelmed by punching the handle of his gun in his neck. The man fell to the ground, but the next one now was warned about his presence and tackled him. The gun slipped from Gavin’s hand as he hit the ground and he thought against the person on top of him. A hand wrapped around his throat and he tried his best to get a good hit on them. Unfortunately, he only managed to momentarily free himself and scoot backwards until the attacker had him in his grip again. He struggled against their hands, but by now, he was pretty sure it was an android, not a human.

Gavin risked a glance to the side, where the RK900 was fending off multiple humans, most of them shooting. Gavin could see a few spots of thirium already staining the white jacket, but it seemed not to bother the android. The door was open though and Gavin doubted his meagre philosophical talent to have much effect on an android programmed to kill. He had to get out of here and shut the door. But that would mean shutting the android in with people trying to actively kill him. Phck. With one strong kick with his knee against his attacker’s thirium regulator, he freed himself and used his momentum to finally get to his gun. One clean shot later, the android laid on the ground and Gavin was out of the control room. He went straight to the adjacent room, blocked the door and screamed: ‘DPD, no one move!’ That didn’t have any impact, but at least he had given them the option.

He stormed in, shooting to incapacitate, but mostly handing out punches and relying on the android to knock them out. There had been only four other people and Gavin had made quick work of them. What left him standing in the doorframe, facing the android that took a shaking step towards him, bleeding from multiple wounds. ‘Get out of my way’, he still demanded, too weak to give the words any meaning. ‘I won’t let you out, you wouldn’t make it out of the building anyways’, Gavin said. ‘I will call my brother to help you. Patch you back up.’ ‘Why?’ ‘Why? Because you’ll die otherwise!’ ‘But I will be deactivated anyways’, the android commented. ‘Well, not on my watch. I will talk to Connor, get you to deviate or something.’ ‘Thought you didn’t care for me.’ ‘I don’t care for what you are supposed to be. I do care for you and if it’s only because you deserve a chance at life like any other.’ He had expected some kind of stubborn remark, but instead, the android just stayed silent and concentrated on sitting down as he lost his balance. ‘So you do care for me… Would be the first one.’ ‘There’s a first one for everything’, Gavin huffed and finally took out his phone to call Elijah, who didn’t let him report anything and hung up immediately after saying he was on his way.

He got down next to the RK900 and looked him over, the LED a bright red. ‘Hey, how serious is it?’ ‘Stress levels at 80%. Everything tells me to crawl to the door and escape, complete my mission, but…’ ‘But?’ ‘I don’t want to die. I want someone to care for me. I want… So many things.’ ‘Fight it and you can do all of that’, Gavin tried, hoping Elijah would hurry up. The android’s LED turned faster and faster and Gavin couldn’t do more than watch. Then suddenly it stopped and turned yellow. The android smiled. ‘I think you were right.’ ‘Right with what?’ ‘I was able to change. Thank you for caring.’

#detroit become human #dbh #Reed900 #RK900 #Gavin Reed #dbh nutcracker AU #I hope this was like you wanted I literally have no idea of the nutcracker except that it's a ballet #and originally a german story idk

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cucuxumusu · 4 years

Text

Cheeky Intruders by MagellanicClouds

(29k | Teen and Up | Complete)

Ex-Espada Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez is just trying to live a quiet life as a motorbike mechanic far away from the eyes of Aizen and the Las Noches Corporation. Unfortunately, the determinedly friendly freedom fighter who smashed his way through his garage’s windows can’t seem to take the hint.

Cyberpunk at it’s finest with that blade-runner vibes. Cats and cat cafes which are always a plus. Mature and cool Ichigo who wants revolution, and a Grimmjow too tired of the drama.

Unexplored Worlds by ShadowThorne

(18k | Mature | Complete)

Set in the future, a young field biologist gets the opportunity of a lifetime and a chance to explore a new planet. Little does he know, what awaits is more than he expected in a world not meant for humans as his dreams are shattered and rebuilt.

Just awesome. One of those sci-fy fics with horror and creepy vibes. Humans think they are better, but they actually aren’t. Cool alien Grimmjow you don’t know if you can trust. Ichigo is constatnly on the verge of dying.

Repeat the Discovery by Depressed_Lemon_Bite

(12k | Explicit | Complete)

“You are my t’hy’la, Captain. You always have been. From the moment you entered my life to the moment I take my last breath, that feeling will follow me even beyond the grave.�� “I’m…I’m your what?” Ichigo began, frowning softly and licking his lips, “Thigh-what?” “T’hy’la,” Grimmjow corrected, the arms folded behind his back being clawed by his antsy hands, “T’hy’la is…the only thing in my culture that I take seriously. It’s a word used to describe…a very important person. It has three meanings: friend, brother…and lover.”

What’s a sci-fy fic’s list without the Star Trek AU. IchiGrimm. Grimmjow has a hand kink, he is also Vulcan and a mess with feels. Sweet smut. Kind Ichigo.

The Forest by BleachFox

(8k | Teen Up | Complete)

When the surface world was destroyed by toxic chemicals, the PEACE Project began. Their job? To restore the Earth’s atmosphere. Decades later however, no progress has been made and humanity is nearing it’s end. So they activated the ROOT Program, leaving humanity’s greatest mind in the hands of their AI in the hopes the solution would be found.

Sci-fy thriller. If you have watched “I am Mother” this one starts with the same premise of apocalipse and world destruction. Short and bitter-sweet.

Counterfeit Wings by ShadowThorne

(33k | Mature | Non-Complete)

Far in the future, humanity has outgrown its bounds. Becoming obsolete, the earth is slowly dying as we forget what solid ground looks like. Not everyone has forgotten though, and curiosity can be a beautiful thing. Two young men as different as earth and sky refuse to let the creations of society stand between them and what makes them happy. GrimmIchi.

Like all of Shadow’s fic, awesome worldbuilding that entralls you. Huge social diferences that need to be overcome. The kind of fluff that makes you cry. Let them be together!

Bloodsport by Asuka Kureru (Askerian)

(21k | Explicit | Non-Complete)

“Heeeey. I’d recognize that hair anywhere. Ain’t you the fucker who keeps cockblocking my shots?” The last place Ichigo wanted to hear about his hair was in an alien forest on an alien planet in the middle of a quote-unquote “polite” standoff with an Arrancar hunter squad, and the last fucking person he wanted to hear it from was some asshole with hair as vividly blue as his own was orange. He said nothing, though. Fourteen months under Captain Quilge Opie of the First Jagdarmee Regiment had broken him of opening his mouth unless addressed by a superior, and the Arrancar wasn’t that.

Military Sci-fy + psy powers + alien forms. Read the damn tags before reading. Kinky smut. A bit wild but interesting. Aizen enjoing science. Enemies to enemies. Forget the love in this one XD

Earth Renewal by Cucuxumusu

(75k | Explicit | Non-Complete)

After years of surviving alone among wild breath-taking nature, Ichigo finds himself persecuted by an Arrancar, one of the creatures who had enslaved humanity and destroyed civilization. The hunt had already been going on for a month, but Ichigo know his tricks have a limit and he needs a new tactic to get rid of the handsome monster. But why is this one blue-haired man so obsessed with capturing him? Will he ever find out why Arrancars had invaded Earth?

Shameless self-promotion, so I’m not gonna say anything XD

#bleach #grimmjow #grimmichi #ichigo kurosaki #grimmjow jaegerjaquez #ichigo #grimmjow jeagerjaques #sci fy #bleach fic rec #grimmichi fanfic rec #lets see if this fucking works for once!!!!!!#fic rec

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pandas-pandemonium · 5 years

Text

Per Sempre Insieme

Pairing: Yandere!Team Buccellati x Fem!Stand User!Reader

Warnings: Violence, Yandere (in later chapters), Slow Burn, Angst

Setting: Post-Vento Aureo, Everyone Lives!AU, Post-PHF

Chapters: 1, 2, 3 , More to Come

Summary: Catching the eye of the new don of Passioné was the last thing a hitman like yourself wanted to do, but what's worse is that you capture the attention and hearts of five other men too. Along with trying to avenge your sister's death, as well as dealing with six lovesick men, how will you ever survive?

1.6k words

Chapter 1

June 2003, Naples, Italy

Summer, the time of the year Giorno both loved and hated at the same time. Summer was great, mainly because he had summer vacation, allowing him to focus on running Passione during the next three months. However, he couldn’t find the heat enjoyable in the slightest. With the burning sun out at 11 in the morning already, he was regretting his decision to personally visit his favourite restaurant to collect the protection money. Heck, Bruno himself offered to do so, and so did countless other members of the mafia. But for some reason, he denied their offers to perform the task and headed there himself. It wasn’t like there was much danger anyways, few people knew the new don of Passione's face. He did however, bring along Sheila E. as his bodyguard, just to give Bruno peace of mind. The older man just wouldn’t stop insisting he bring someone along for his protection.

He was about halfway to the restaurant when a blur of [H/C] flew right by him and into the alleyway the two happened to pass. Fortunately, the Don recovered quickly enough to see a girl, perhaps not much older than him, pull open a door from the wall and disappeared in a blink of an eye.

“A stand user?” He wondered to himself under his breath. His interest in the passing stand user did not go by Sheila’s eyes as she tilted her head and looked up at the taller male.

“Is there anything you would need me to do, D- Giorno?” she asked, catching herself from addressing her boss by his title just in time. Giorno’s blue eyes shifted to the smaller female, and smiled gently.

“Not at the moment Sheila…Perhaps after we finish what we came here for, then we can look into that…incident,” he said. The girl nodded and resumed walking towards the restaurant.

After an hour or so, the duo walked out of the restaurant, stomachs full from the early lunch they just had, and headed to the alleyway they last saw the [H/C] girl disappear in.

“Sheila, I would like you to use your stand here, so we can figure out who that stand user was, or at least, their motives. It’s been two years, but new stand users are always an asset,” the blonde said. Wordlessly, the bodyguard nodded her head and withdrew her stand, Voodoo Child. Immediately, the stand got to work, furiously punching the wall and ground hard enough that it began to crack open. After a few moments, lips formed from the cracks and began to speak.

“Damn it, when the hell is that darn geezer gonna bank in my pay?! I took out the guy just like he asked me to!”

“Ah man, setting up house here is the worst idea…It’s got the worst view ever! I can barely tell evening from day in the mansion.”

“Ugh! Some assholes decided to spit in front of my doorstep! I swear if I catch them, I’ll beat them to death for it.”

Giorno held up his hand, and Sheila stopped the voices.

“Well, I wasn’t sure what I was hoping to find out, but at the very least it doesn’t seem like the user has left. Perhaps if we stay out here long enough, she should come out again. I would like to see how her stand works, it could be useful for the transportations team,” he said. Giorno then clapped his hands together and headed to leave the dim alleyway, his bodyguard trailing behind.

Upon reaching the Passione base, Giorno immediately called two men to keep watch over that particular alleyway, and to bring the stand user to him directly. It wasn’t much, but he was glad he trusted his intuition to go out this afternoon. After all, if his men succeed in locating and retrieving the stand user, Passione could only benefit from it.

~~~~

It was past two in the morning when you finally finished your job; exterminating a mole in some big business you barely cared for. The CEO paid you big bucks for it, and that was what mattered. You found it amusing how willing the rich and powerful are to go to such dirty means to prevent their secrets from getting out. Now, you were on your way down a street of Naples, heading towards your temporary hideout. Sure, you could simply set up your house any where you want, but the alleyway you chose was near one of your favourite restaurants, which was convenient.

Just as you were approaching the dark alleyway, you froze. There, sitting on a wall, was a man clothed in black, almost unnoticeable for someone who wasn’t trained to see in the dark. You backed up, holding your hands up in a fighting position, ready to defend yourself if necessary.

“Who are you and who sent you?” you demanded, trying to keep your voice level, as to not betray your feelings. Truth be told, you were nervous. Were you really that careless? Who in the world could have sent someone to catch you? Aside from those who related to those who were killed by your hands, you doubt you made many enemies. You were a paid hitman, and you always made sure to cover your tracks so people don’t come after you. So far, no one has traced the assassinations back to you, so who?

The man spoke soon enough, “The Don of Passione wants to recruit you. Consider this a personal invitation into the mafia. Lucky you, you don’t even have to pass a test.” You raised an eyebrow.

The Don of Passione? The new one? Last you heard, Passione changed bosses and the one leading the gang currently was a young man who took over the position as Don when he was only a teenager.

“What the hell does a mafioso want with me? Does he even know who I am?” you asked. The man jumped down from his position and sighed.

“Who knows. What he does know however, is that you may have a pretty useful stand he could have use for. I’m just carrying out orders. If you refuse to come with me, I’m more than willing to use force,” he said, arms crossed. You swallowed. You really had been careless. You completely forgot that there were bound to be other stand users roaming streets of Napoli, and of all people to catch sight of you using your stand, it had to be freaking Passione’s don?

You laughed, “If he thinks I’m going to comply so easily, he mustn’t have very good judgment.” With that, you pulled out your gun. As if you were going to reveal your stand this easily. If the don was that serious about recruiting you, he better had sent one of his best.

“Oh, sweetie, you really think that gun is going to protect you. If you’re a stand user, make it a stand fight!” yelled the man. From the corner of your eye, you saw light grey humanoid-ish shape seep into the pavement below you. Hurriedly you jumped back, your eyes scanning your surroundings, watching out for any signs of attack.

“It’s useless, miss. Once Penny Lane’s taken over any object, there’s no way of avoiding it,” the man calmly spoke. Just then, the concrete under your feet began to warp, slowly melting into a liquid form. Panicking, you searched for higher ground. You had to get off the concrete fast, and uncover his stand’s secret. Internally, you cursed. Of course, an offensive stand type user is sent to get you. Tonight, really wasn’t your night. The ground was rapidly turning to liquid and so were other things around you. If you didn’t get out of the stand’s range fast, you’d be trapped in the concrete.

“Well? Will you draw out your stand or will you keep trying to run through liquid cement?” taunted the man. You cursed under your breath. Well, if the gang member had shown his, you might as well right? So, you turned around, as quickly as you could, as your pants were caked in cement, which was drying fast.

“If I show you my stand you’ll stop right?” you asked, holding up your hands in surrender. The man nodded and you took a deep breath, allowing the light golden spirit to appear beside you. Its eyes were a blank white, and it appeared to be wearing a butler’s suit.

“This is Soul’s Mansion. It’s not a fighting type stand, so don’t worry about me trying to attack you. Now, will you stop this?” you asked as you let your stand disappear. The man shrugged and recalled his stand back. Unfortunately for you, you had made an error in your request. You had asked him to turn the cement back into concrete but had forgotten that you would be stuck ankle deep in the pavement. Flushing an angry red, you panicked.

“W-wait! Turn it back into liquid, I need to get out of here!”

The man raised his eyebrow, “And let you escape? Of course not. You don’t have to worry though; my partner will get you out of there. I hope to see you back at the base,” he called out as he turned to leave, leaving you stuck in the concrete. Just as he left, a woman of significant height walked towards you from the other side of the road.

“It’s a shame it ended so quickly. I was really enjoying seeing your panicked expression. Anyways, as per the boss’s orders, let’s you take you back, shall we?” she said with a smile, her light blue eyes twinkling under the dark sky. You swallowed thickly as you stared up at the woman, a deep feeling of dread pooling in your stomach.

~~~~

A/N: I thought I'd just drop this lol. I was too impatient, and it'll be one thing less on my mind while I work on the other requests. Feedback and questions are greatly appreciated! So are likes and reblogs!

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hollenka99 · 4 years

Text

A Deal Gone Wrong

Summary: Jackie’s betrayed the others for the sake of bringing Henrik home safely. The aftermath doesn’t go as he expected.

Warnings: Abuse, Anti generally being an asshole

Jackie looking into ways to get Anti's attention quickly delivers results. He is always watching, after all. It shouldn't have surprised him how easy it was to find himself in the demon's presence. It's been exactly 9 months since Henrik was taken. Jackie promised himself he wouldn't allow the doctor to stay captive for as long as he did. It was getting uncomfortably close now. Times were getting desperate. And well, he wholly agreed with what they said about occasions such as these. His reckless plan works. Jackie's too pleased about winning this victory, too relieved to be granted a few days of freedom before delivering on his side of the bargain. He turns a blind eye to how easy it is. At least he's smart enough to write the specifics on paper. Not like he expected Anti to whip out a pen and sign a 'contract'. If you could call it that. He assumes Anti's amusement was due to the ridiculousness of it. Still, anything to feel he has any sway on the glitch. If Anti says there'll be a swap, Jackie can only hope he keeps his word. Henrik comes home, as promised. The first hour or two following his return are the most eventful. Chase and Marvin can't hug their friend soon enough. Jackie bursts into tears against the doctor's chest. The ten days Anti had granted him disappear quicker than he'd like. There is less stress in the air. It doesn't feel like they are scrabbling for peace or normality quite as much. Marvin's plants are beginning to display an vast improvement in vitality. There is also the relief they have another (more competent) doctor assisting in Jack's care. Jackie is happy knowing he's played a part in bringing this about. It's not all great. Chase won't stop joking that they only need to wake Jack up so things can go back to how they were. He knows life will never revert back to summer 2016 standards. Chase didn't even exist until a year ago. Henrik keeps trying to inspect Jackie's injuries. What is he expecting to find? His legs are barely functional, the scars of the living autopsy are still there and Jackie doubts he's regained much weight, if at all. Sneaking in a visit to Jack's bedside only resurfaces the same feelings of guilt he's experienced this week. He's betraying their trust. For a good reason, he reminds himself. For a good reason. Now here they were, standing feet from each other once more. He's mulled over whether to leave a goodbye note. He decided against it. It would only cause them more heartache to know he went willingly. And Henrik, oh he'd have to live with the knowledge this was for him. Jackie doesn't want that. It's made worse by the prediction he won't be himself the next time they see him. He's made his choice. There's no backing out now. "Well, here I am. You upheld your end so... I guess I'll have to do the same." The demon greets him with a malicious smirk. "That's nice to hear. But you don't have what I want." "What are you talking about? You said you'd let Henrik come home if I gave myself up. We agreed on a swap, myself for Schneep." As if to prove his point, Jackie fishes out the note. He forcefully shows it to Anti. The demon inspects it before promptly ripping it until nothing remains but mere shreds. "You weren't listening. I never said I'd take you. You just assumed. Desperate to come back to me, puppet?" "I am not a puppet." "Aren't you? What are the five largest cities in Ireland?" "Dublin, Cork, Limerick, Galway, Waterford." Caught off guard, he deadpans the list without resistance. "Returning to me reminds you of..?" "The Temporary Discharge for Ill Health Act of 1913, better known as the Cat and Mouse Act." No, don't smile like that. Don't be proud of his ability to answer questions. It's only a few stray facts he can recite. He is Jackie. Remember that. He's not a puppet. Not yet. Maybe it will be easier to give in once he's back to that lightless room. He can fight for a week or two save face then- he's getting ahead of himself. But his corruption hasn't transpired quite yet. "Alright, I can spout random trivia. So what?" "What are the physiological symptoms of fear?" "Hyperventilation, increased heart rate, increased muscle tension, sweating, hyperglycemia and disruption to the digestive system, among others." Jackie lists the symptoms on his fingers. He knew this from his own experience. It had absolutely nothing to do with Biology lessons or the independent research he felt was necessary to complete. "Good. What should your resting heart rate be?" "I'm physically over the age of ten so... somewhere between 60 and 100 beats per minute." "Oh really? That's very interesting to know. I just counted 87." It's only now that Jackie gains awareness of Anti's fingers pressing slightly too harshly against the top of his neck. He flinches as he swats it away. "I told you to stop. And that's still in the range, you dick." "It's very unhealthy to have it so high. Tell me why you're not normal." "I'm a character?" "That doesn't matter." "I'm younger than everyone else?" "No. Try again." Anti growls, impatience growing. "Oh. I exercise frequently which means I-" His glare is aimed at Anti. Well done, you've making him realise his mistake. The glitch must be so proud of himself. Why is Jackie even answering of his own free will? "Which means I should be closer to 60 beats per minute." "Exactly." "Look, it doesn't matter. I made the mistake of dealing with you. Increased heart rate is also a symptom of stress." "That's no way to speak to the one who took the liberty of educating you." That tone. Oh God, it was that exact tone. Please don't let him have a needle and thread handy. He's sorry. He won't misbehave again, he swears. "Sorry, sir." Anti still glowers for a moment. "I see you finally remembered your manners." "Listen, I can't walk. So no more escape attempts. You won't have to worry about that." "That didn't excuse you from lessons, now did it?" "No, exactly, so we can still do that." "Yet you still managed to leave me." How is Jackie meant to respond to that? "I- Well, you were distracted, sir. I was... I was being resourceful. That's a useful trait, right?" Anti's laughter is broken. It morphs into an amalgamation of giggles, cackles and snickers. He scrutinises Jackie once more before turning away. His gaze is directed to the powerlines surrounding the field. Hang on, he can't just leave! God, this culminating panic was so stupid. No matter how much he tries to squash it, the anxiety grows. Within seconds, he can't stop himself from blurting it out. "Wait, don't go!" This attracts the glitch's attention. He abruptly ceases the increase in fragmentation. The air doesn't feel quite as energised. Anti's head whips around. He's beaming as he steps towards Jackie, closing the distance. "You're as pathetic as ever. Perhaps I should take you with me." Anti muses. "That way you can look my new puppet in the eyes and tell him how you betrayed his trust." "I didn't do anything." Don't say that. Please. Just because it's true doesn't mean he wants to be reminded. "What is one of the first lessons I taught you?" "Don't- Don't talk back?" It's a frown now. "You don't sound convinced." "Don't talk back." He answers firmly. "That's better." Anti gives him a gentle smile. It is swiftly followed by a shove that is nowhere near as gentle. "I could leave you in Tasmania and make you swim all the way home. No cheating this time either. I will personally throw you overboard into the Indian Ocean if I see you trying to stowaway again. I'm sure you don't want that." The glitch crouches down. His hand reaches out towards Jackie's head. The teenager flinches. Anti glides his hand through his hair. Don't relax into it. You have better sources of human contact. This subtle resistance seems to irritate the demon as his hair is yanked into position. Jackie has no choice but to look him in the eyes. "I've had my eye on him for months. Now you've given me an excuse to have him all to myself." The grin falls into a pout. The grip loosens too. "But don't worry! We can be together again one day. I know how lonely you've been without me." How long has Anti's eye had that green glint to it? He tsks in sympathy. The hair stroking resumes. "All those bad habits. Give me some time and you won't have to be lonely again. Can you do that?" No. Fuck off. No way is he going to... going to... He will wait for his master, of course he will. "Yes, sir." Anti rises to his feet. "Good boy. Now, why don't you run home? I have better things to be doing than stand here proving you can't deceive yourself." Jackie doesn't need any more incentives. Racing isn't a pace he is able to maintain anymore. Nevertheless, he travels home as rapidly as his body will allow him. He hadn't brought his keys. In his defense, he believed he wouldn't be coming back. Not to mention he was not about to risk Anti gaining unauthorised access to the egos' home. He bangs on the door like he had eight months ago. They're all clearly beside themselves. No words are spoken before Jackie is practically smothered by Marvin while simultaneously being berated for his disappearance. Where had he gone? Why didn't he think to give them a heads up before leaving? Did he not realise how worried they'd been? Also, had Chase said anything to him about staying out tonight? Jackie doesn't understand. What did Chase have to do with him sneaking out? If the guy had gone to drop off a forgotten toy, that wasn't suspicious. Neither was the prospect of traffic delaying him or Chase secretly heading to a pub. Come on, this was Chase they were talking about. There must be a perfectly reasonable- What about a hallway? Why's that significant? Oh. Oh no.

#jacksepticeye #jackieboy man #antisepticeye #creator au #my writing #writersofjack #tw abuse #holy shit it's finally done #a whole freaking year I've been working on this on and off because it wouldn't co-operate with me #this was literally meant to be for the anniversary last year #and now it's half 10 at night because I forgot to post it earlier #anyway happy 2nd anniversary to Dark Silence

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tysonrunningfox · 4 years

Text

Toothless: Return to the Black Pony of Second Chances: Part 5

This is long and he is a brat, ok?

Ao3

“Ok,” I heave the last shovel of horse poop from the black horse’s area and lean on my pitchfork, barely resisting the urge to plug my nose with my hand, as my hand has recently been in contact with said horse poop.

The black horse isn’t nice, exactly, but not quite skittish either, and largely my only two problems with it—him—are the leash he allows Astrid to have around my time and maybe also neck if she asked for it and the amount he poops. Like, maybe he should cut back on the fiber. A little more cheese, possibly.

“Ok what?” Astrid closes the stall door at the other end of the barn with her foot, chucking a pitchfork of horse shit into a wheelbarrow.

It’s been less than 24 hours in Wyoming, and I recognize horse shit.

This is great. This is all going so great.

“Ok, his room is clean.”

“Room?” She raises an eyebrow, the same unimpressed expression I got last night when I had no idea what a ‘flake’ of hay was. The only flakes I’ve ever seen are corn flakes, and as they’re usually non-GMO and therefore pad Monsanto’s bottomless pockets with bovine diabetes, I haven’t seen them in years.

“Stable.” I shrug, “stall, whatever fancy horse word it is. I don’t know why it matters.”

“There are four more stalls on your side,” she gestures with her shoulder, picking up the full wheelbarrow handles and moving before I can protest.

So, I jog up next to her to protest, work-loosened shoes slipping over my heels.

“My side?” I shiver when we’re outside, the early morning sun doing about as little to cut the chill as my hoodie is, “last time I checked, my horse is on the end—”

“I told you that you would help me muck stalls,” she grunts as she heaves the wheelbarrow into a lovely pile of horse shit in a brown and putrid monotone rainbow of stages.

“I did,” I point at my dirty pants with my dirty hand.

“I did five, you did one.” She reminds me, like I could have forgotten in the last minute, and I wonder if flinching in the wind is making me look like I’m having a stroke.

“Yeah.”

“So, you think I should go do nine of them?” She cocks her hip, and I don’t understand how she has the energy to be this hostile this early. When she knocked on my bedroom door this morning, I thought she must have been a very polite burglar warning me that they were taking one of my dad’s absolutely lovely recliners off of my hands so that I could thank them.

But no, when I opened my bedroom door it was just Astrid, arms crossed and looking down at my pajamas like I’d already disappointed her, asking why I wasn’t dressed yet.

And then she made me instant coffee, like she was doing me a favor, when I probably would have preferred horse shit tea.

The wind shifts and I catch a whiff of the pile.

Nope. That’s an exaggeration, but from the way the shitty, acrid coffee churns in my empty stomach, it’s not much of one.

“I didn’t say that,” I hold my hand out for one of the pills that I know is in her pocket, “I just need my horse’s medicine.”

“Yeah, and I said I’d give it to you after you helped muck out the stable.”

“Stable or stall, which is it?” I roll my eyes, “the lack of consistency really isn’t making me feel much trust in your management style.”

That gets her, a little flicker in those bright blue eyes, a tense in her jaw that makes me think twice about angering her into headbutting me, because I don’t think it’d be fun.

“You can have the medicine when you muck out the other four stalls, of the five in your half, which constitutes half the stable.” She talks about horse rooms like they’re engine compartments and I feel like a coolant leak, shoving steam out and making her pull over on the way to something important.

Not that there’s anything important out here. There hasn’t been anything important since someone brought a store-bought pie to church, or something. And that was probably a year ago.

“But I already did my horse’s stall.”

My horse already feels steadier than ‘my room’ or ‘my house’ or ‘my dad’, and I don’t know why. Maybe because the horse is the only one here to not actively reject me, like the twin bed that’s now too short or the crooked floorboard I tripped over.

“Yeah, and there are four more.”

“Why do I care about the other four?” As soon as I say it, I wish I hadn’t gotten so used to the progressive, ‘spare the rod to spoil the child and save the world’ schools that my mom has sent me to, because this is like being spanked with the feelings stick by a hormonally confusing drill sergeant in the lobby to military school.

“Because your horse,” she implies ‘and by extension you’ by jabbing me in the arm with a pointed finger, “costs money and time and space, and since no one else can get close to him, for some reason.” The jealousy is like a fresh americano from the fair trade café down the street from my old apartment, “so you have to pull the weight.”

“Can a horse really weigh four surplus stalls of horse shit?”

“Come tell me when you’re done, and I’ll teach you how to clean out the chicken coop.”

“You said I could have the medicine after the stalls were mucked,” I must say it right even though I was planning to make another joke, because she just crosses her arms and shrugs that tense shrug at me.

“He’ll need them again tonight, won’t he?”

She’s right, but not as a way to get me to listen to her, just as a fact, and I realize once and for all that she’s not someone to out-talk or out-logic. She won’t give me an inch because I make her laugh, and it’s so my luck that the only concrete proof I’ve had in a decade that my dad really, actually knows me, is that he somehow chose the right person to torture me into some brand of obedience so manually productive that it’s probably anti-union.

I get back to mucking.

The fact that I am not strong is really Mrs. Razorwhip’s fault for making gym so easy to skip. In fact, the only time I ever actually had to suffer through the weight room was sneaking through it to the emergency exit with the disabled alarm that let me out into the alley.

Back home, I would insist that I’m not useless. Not impressive, obviously, there’s not much to look at, but I’ve never struggled lugging groceries up the stairs.

Then again, four stalls of horse shit weighs more than enough tofu and kale to feed my mom and I for a month.

“Are you done yet?” Astrid comes back after some indeterminate, sweaty time and catches me taking a probably forbidden break, petting the black horse’s nose.

“Ma’am, yes Ma’am.” I salute.

She doesn’t appreciate it, and she doesn’t even try to hide the fact, and while I’m used to Heather jokingly calling me an asshole, the direct disappointment is different. A little bitter. Like the static emanating out of a missing rewind button in a dusty remote I lost years ago.

“Have you thought of a name yet?” She looks at the black horse then at me, taking a reluctant, peace-seeking step towards me, and I get the somewhat familiar feeling that she doesn’t want to be so mean to me, but I just make it easy.

She hands me his medicine and I guess her hand gets a little too close, because he makes an ear-splitting noise and attempts to bite her through the bars, nostrils flared and red-lined as Hiccup jumps back, fumbling with the oversized pill and barely catching it.

“Whoa there,” she attempts to comfort, voice low, hands held in front of her.

The horse gnashes square teeth at her, cry turning painful when he tries to pop onto his back legs.

“Whoa there.” I mimic Astrid entirely, stepping towards the stall, heart swelling with something important when he looks at me, breathing hard, gnashing his teeth but no longer crying.

“Devil maybe,” she suggests under her breath, jealous where she was just half-way decently ok with me, and my mouth has always been a few leaps and bounds ahead of my pre-cognition.

“Toothless.” I snort at my own joke and she stares at me like I’m stupid again. Still stupid. A fossilized kind of stupid that she or someone she knows probably wants to mine for crude oil. “Because he never shows them to me.”

She sighs then points at the wheelbarrow, which is already full again, because I actually did move more horse shit than her and I’ve got the exhausted back and shoulders to prove it, “dump this, then meet me at the chicken coop.”

The chicken coop is worse than the stalls.

I’ll never complain about horse shit again, as long as I live. Or at least until the next time I have to deal with it, more likely.

Which is the next day.

And the next.

The fourth morning in my own private Wyoming, she wakes me up earlier than normal, and I find myself completely unsecured in the back of the old ranch truck alongside giant flakes of hay, staring at Fishlegs as Astrid starts driving through the field.

For all my dad talks about loving his life and his cows, it really does feel like I’m just pelting them in the face with itchy dried grass that makes me wish I’d borrowed some of the thick gloves from the barn.

“You can throw them farther than that!” Astrid calls out the window and I grunt, tossing one as far as I can and turning back to Fishlegs.

“What is her problem?”

“What?”

“I said,” I clear my throat and try and take out the welling anger on another flake of hay, which falls apart in the breeze and ends up mostly in my face. And mouth. And hair. “What is Astrid’s problem?”

“Well,” he pauses, and he doesn’t get yelled at immediately, of course, “I did hear she failed math.”

“So, the ghost of unsatisfied Algebra II homework possessed her and turned her soul to pure evil?” I huff.

She can probably hear me.

I don’t care if she hears me, I don’t think. She can hide a body, probably, and she could skewer me with a pitchfork, but the only thing she resents more than me is Toothless and then she’d be stuck with him, so…

“I would have tutored her, if I wasn’t off at school—”

My glare cuts him off and he starts shoving hay off of the back of the truck again.

“No, I don’t care about her grades, I—she has it out for me.” It’s the only explanation. She’s probably operating under some misconception that my being here will have some impact on her being my dad’s favorite, or something. Which given how little he’s spoken to me for the last few days, is absolutely not true, and it makes me want to pound on the back window and tell her that she can have him.

Except my arms hurt. I don’t think I can ‘pound’ on anything, not in so many words.

And I bet I’ll have to muck stalls when I get back to the ranch. Maybe I can have a break if my arm literally falls off. I wonder if that would make me more or less symmetrical.

“She doesn’t,” Fishlegs assures me, sweeping the rest of the hay out of the rusted bed with his foot and thumping on the top of the cab before sitting down. Before I have time to ask why, Astrid speeds up and turns around, almost flinging me out of the bed, and I end up sprawled with a handful of stupid, itchy hay up the back of my shirt, ass throbbing from smacking the bed too hard.

“What was that then?” I spit out a piece of hay, finding some in my hair and knowing that this isn’t the time to shower. Not until she’s done with me. Or my arm falls off.

Or maybe she’d just show me how to scoop one handed.

And it’s barely past dawn.

“She drives fast.”

“I can see that.”

“I’ve heard she’s been driving ranch trucks since she was nine,” he leans forward, barely speaking above the roar of the engine. “Ever since she could reach the pedals.”

“I’ve been hot wiring cars ever since I forged a key to the teacher’s lounge,” I mutter under my breath, not competing in a race I can’t win so much as I wish I could shock and awe without my dad calling the cops. I’m still expecting a scared straight romp for stealing a stupid pack of gum from Gobber, but maybe he figures Astrid will kill me first.

I do have to muck when I get back.

Then I get cryptic instructions to ‘hand walk’ Toothless, to which I respond that I probably couldn’t get a very good grip on him with my toes. Astrid doesn’t laugh, just shoves an old horse-leash into my hand before telling me cryptically that she’ll find me later.

And that’s my life now. Living in fear of Astrid finding me, never able to avoid her. Like I’m running and screaming and looking for a quiet corner to nurse my wounds, but she always finds me, always calm, always stern. Usually holding something sharp.

It’s like if Michael Meyers was a really hot teenage girl.

The twins teach me how to milk their goats one morning, and at first I don’t think it’ll be that bad because at least I get to sit, but somehow, walking a horse around and lifting horse shit also makes my butt hurt. Who knew.

Also, the twins don’t shut up.

“Heard you were asking what’s up with Astrid,” Ruffnut sing-songs during a rare, nearly pleasant pause in the conversation, and I accidentally squirt goat milk at my shoe. It soaks through. Which is great. I understand boots now that I have goat milk between my toes. Couldn’t have aimed left, that would have been too pleasant.

“Mostly in a ‘what do I tell the priest?’ way.”

“She’s single,” Ruffnut raises her eyebrows, “but hasn’t finished high school yet, so the priest talk is probably pretty pre-mature.”

“What does high school or her relationship status have to do with the exorcism?” I snort.

“I’ve heard she can lift like five-hundred pounds,” Tuffnut adds, “and I’ve heard that dirt doesn’t stick to her. Like she could roll in a pile of dirt, and her very aura would just reject it.”

“I…don’t think that’s true.” I almost want to ask Tuffnut what geometric shape he thinks the earth is, but it’ll bug me too much if he’s wrong.

“She can talk to goats,” Tuffnut continues, “she’s said some very unkind things to Chicken, and Duchess here translated.” He pats the goat he’s milking on the butt and accidentally squirts more milk at my right foot. Great.

Awesome.

“She likes tall guys. Not historically, but I can just kind of guess that she would now,” Ruffnut grins, “she doesn’t need as much sleep as anyone else—”

“Because she got bitten by a radioactive spider and became a vigilante but it’s not very useful in a town with no crime,” Tuffnut cuts her off and Ruffnut squirts him with goat’s milk on purpose. He catches it in his mouth and proceeds to cough.

“She’s not Spiderman”

“Then why’d she get that spider out of my room that one time?” He wheezes, and I’d rather roll in the horse poop mound than be here right now.

“Because you were screaming.” Ruffnut grins at me again, and I get the feeling that she thinks I’m here for her entertainment. I’ve never liked that feeling, honestly. I don’t like expectation. I’d rather just force my antics on people and be rejected than never live up to the assumption in someone else’s head.

And I know for a fact that I could never compete with whatever Ruffnut is coming up with. More than that, I wouldn’t want to.

“Plus, I know Peter Parker. He’s holding the high rise down while I…do this.” I try and pet the goat I’m milking. It tries to bite me.

Toothless is about the only farm animal that is toothless towards me.

“So you’re asking for rumors about Astrid?” Ruffnut tries again, and I sigh.

“No, I’m just…wondering why she’s so…” there are a lot of words I could use. Bitchy, if I wanted Heather to slap me mentally from thousands of miles away. Demanding, if I wanted to complain, which I don’t, because it would all obviously get back to her and then my dad. “Against me, in particular.”

“She’s not,” Tuffnut sighs, “she’s like this with everyone, always trying to make us work harder, as if some of us haven’t already reached peak potential.” He squirts at Ruffnut and gets it in her hair before laughing.

She stands up and splashes the whole bucket she’d managed to collect on his face and my right shoe gets even soggier. Great. Fantastic.

“He’s right, for once,” Ruffnut assures between laughs, tossing the bucket itself at Tuffnut’s head and knocking him off of his stool. “She just genuinely wakes up every day excited to go do things and chores and she thinks everyone else should too. It’s bizarre.”

“You’ve disrespected the Duchess,” Tuffnut stands up, prepared to tackle his sister and I leave before it can get any worse, for once sure that I won’t get the blame for things not going perfectly.

There are an old pair of boots in the hall closet that fit me with a thick pair of socks and when I start wearing them, my dad looks almost proud. That makes it worse, but I can’t tell him that I’m not trying to fit in, because Toothless needs another round of antibiotics, and when he asks Astrid how I’ve been doing, she shrugs in some kind of silent acceptance that seems like it’s in my dad’s language more than mine.

I’ve lost count of my days in hostile solitude when I get stuck on my back under a tractor with Snotlout, trying to diagnose an engine that appears to be held together with duct tape and a water bottle full of amber liquid I don’t recognize.

“Well, I think I see the problem,” I point at the bottle and he snorts.

“That connects the thingamajig to the thing,” he points at what I believe to be the oil pan, “I fixed it last year, it’s fine.”

“It’s a water bottle.”

“So, I heard you’ve been asking about Astrid,” he gloats, and I hate that I’ve been mucking Hookfang’s stall and more than that, I hate that Hookfang is kind of nice, in a begging dog way.

“Does she know that the tractor is held together with floss and paperclips?” I scoot away from him, feeling bare dirt through my too thin jeans, back and side sore from the morning in the barn. “Because that seems like the kind of lack of perfection which would make her make me do fifty pushups while chanting some mantra about getting up before the sun.”

“I’m kind of the Astrid expert, ask me anything.” He reaches up and wraps a new length of duct tape around a leaking pipe and I wince.

“Alright, why does Tuffnut think she’s Spiderman?”

“He’s an idiot.”

“That does not take an Astrid expert to answer,” I roll out from under the tractor, sure that it’s above my paygrade, which is zero.

Actually, it’s less than zero, given that I’m working for horse medicine that isn’t even possible for me to have fun with. I’m an indentured servant working on behalf of a horse, next to an idiot who tapes tractors together like he’ll be opening an exhibit of redneck macaroni art called “John Deere, an American Journey” at the tri-county community center soon.

“Ok, ok, I’ll tell you a secret.” Snotlout is easy to read. He’s a ransom note of a man, put together from the Cheyenne Gazette, Laramie Chronicle, and Bum-Fuck Nowhere Times, then laminated with some deep-seated fear that I don’t believe his swagger. Which I don’t.

“Please, don’t enlighten me.”

“Astrid looks like she’s what? A B-cup?” He says with a straight face and I let myself imagine telling Astrid this, because while I don’t want her to headbutt me, Snotlout might be satisfying, “but you’d be wrong. C-cup. All the way.”

“No shit.” I deadpan, “I’m sure this tractor is in your capable hands so I’m just going to go…not here.”

“I know from when we dated.”

“Right.” I stand up, “I’m…bye. Maybe I’ll go clean the chicken coop, because it’s disgusting, and you won’t follow me.”

I don’t though. I go talk to Toothless. I smooth a brush over his fur the way I’ve seen Astrid do to Stormfly, carefully avoiding the nearly healed slash in his back leg. I tell him about fire escapes and self-destination and if it weren’t for Astrid finding me before dinner, I’d probably miss it.

I almost tell her what Snotlout said, just to watch the carnage, but I really don’t want to be stuck dealing with that tractor.

00000

It takes an hour and some not so dignified groveling to Fishlegs to convince my father that Skype isn’t going to give his barely half a tier above dial-up internet a virus. It takes two additional days to actually set a time with Heather because her social life has apparently boomed without me and because Astrid hid my phone yesterday until I finished cleaning out the chicken coop.

Because beneath her irritatingly beautiful exterior, she’s the reincarnation of a knuckle slapping nun who hates left-handedness and the suggestion of fun.

But almost two weeks since I left New York, I’m oh-so-generously given an hour off stall mucking duty before dinner by Commander in Chief Hofferson, and Heather’s brother took her fake ID, apparently, so I sit down at the tiny desk sized for my eight year old self and turn on my laptop for the first time since I’ve been here. It’s a little strange, how much has changed in the last two weeks, the dirt from Toothless’s fur caked under my fingernails, the sunburned skin tight across the bridge of my nose. Back home I used to never be outside enough to really get a tan. It was always muggy and Mom had it so ingrained that the smell wasn’t the river, it was slaughterhouse runoff up-river, that hanging around outside never really seemed appetizing. Here though, it’s cold until almost lunch and by then I’m pink almost to peeling even while I’m still shivering.

The internet takes three limping tries to connect. My dad’s password is Haddock. No numerals, just his last name. If that’s a Wyoming benchmark, I wonder how hard it would be to break into that tiny, old-fashioned-shootout looking bank in town to steal the price of a plane ticket home. I’ll ask Heather today if I could sleep under her bed.

I call her on Skype once the internet seems somewhat, tenuously solid, and she picks up almost immediately, the eyeliner smudged under her eyes exacerbating the graininess of the image somehow. She doesn’t look like she’s been sleeping much and she adjusts her screen, the window blurring as my connection flickers.

“Oh my god, this is so 2009,” she laughs, tucking her hair behind her ear. “Is that the lighting? Or…oh my god, are you tan? That’s ridiculous.”

“It’s the lighting, I’m definitely sunburned,” I laugh, glancing at myself in the small front facing window. If it’s possible, I’ve lost weight since I’ve been here, all the stupid, draining manual labor, and my cheeks look as hollow as my plan to hitchhike back to New York without being caught or murdered. Or caught and murdered.

My dad would probably let Astrid do the honors.

“I didn’t realize there was sun in Wyoming.”

“As it’s on the planet Earth, it does occasionally experience direct sunlight, especially because I can currently see the only two trees in about a fifty-mile radius from my window right now.”

She laughs and I almost wish we hadn’t done this, because the pang in my chest is so distinctly homesickness. I hadn’t felt homesick before now, not really. Grumpy, sure, belligerent, always. Stubborn? All the time. But now I’m stuck on the way it used to sound when Heather’s laugh wasn’t filtered through two shitty speakers and she was sneaking in my window at 2 in the morning because her brother let some new crazy come in.

“Well, I solved global warming then, we just need to stop the sun from hitting places that don’t have trees or people.” She taps her temple with a dark polished finger, “why doesn’t anyone listen to me?”

“I really don’t know, all your ideas are so practical.”

“And I thought I missed you,” she scoffs, something treacherously close to a genuine expression tugging at the corners of her mouth, and even while webcams make me look yellow and scrawnier than normal, Heather looks great in all her smudged makeup, forcefully edgy glory. “I’m going to hang up, let you die in my mind as a happy memory.”

“Like that would convince anyone.” I laugh. She laughs. The bad connection whispers static and she bites her lip.

I don’t know how to tell her about Toothless.

I hadn’t thought about it. I hadn’t thought that I’d want to tell her about anything here because she’s separate, a relic reminding me of all the reasons I have to get back but now there’s a reason I almost want to stay and I’m not sure if it’s stronger than the brunt of Heather’s sheer, practiced cynicism.

“Things are boring here without you,” she rolls her eyes, holding long bangs in front of her eyes and checking for split ends, “Dagur’s on some new parenting kick because your mom had some scary conversation with him. I should get her a cat or something so she has someone to boss around that isn’t me.”

“What’d you do to make her talk to your brother?”

“It’s funny, because your mom used to be the one talking about how play based kindergartens in Scandanavia are so much better than the homework geared education system here, but if anyone tries to stay in your old room to protest the frankly ridiculous workload in an American high school, suddenly it’s cause for alarm.”

“Have you thought any more about law school? Because that’s quite the argument.”

“Right, because any individuality can be crammed into the stuffiest of stuffed shirt professions.”

“I mean, not the stuffiest, there’s a scarecrow in the pumpkin patch that has more stuffing in his shirt than any lawyer I’ve ever met.”

“You just haven’t been around enough lawyers. Because you’ve been spending too much time at the pumpkin patch, apparently.”

“It’s on the way to the…” I pause before saying ‘barn’ because barn feels like it means something more than it does. Like yes, a structure that houses animals, commonly cows or horses but also…somewhere I’ve been spending a lot of time. Somewhere I don’t hate quite as much as Heather hates everywhere. “The house, back from the chicken coop, where I get to spend my early mornings scraping chicken shit off of the dirt.”

“Ah, the charming calm of pastoral life,” she rests her cheek on her hand and flutters her eyelashes. I see the corner of some new tattoo creeping onto her wrist but if she hasn’t told me yet I probably shouldn’t ask, and it’s like she’s got her own Toothless.

I don’t think we’ve ever had secrets. Not since she dropped into my bedroom eerily silently when I was thirteen and I didn’t have the chance to get my pants back up before she noticed what I was doing.

There’s a knock on my doorframe and of course I forgot to close the door and of course when I turn around it’s Astrid, because she has an unfortunate sixth sense for when I have an uncomfortable thought in my head.

“What?”

She rolls her eyes, “I was just coming to tell you that we got back early so dinner might be early.”

“Ok.” I stare at her and she doesn’t leave, “I’m kind of having a conversation here, so could you shut the door on the way out?”

“You aren’t coming to dinner?”

“I’ll be down in a bit.”

She looks me up and down, pausing at my shoulder like she’s trying to see the laptop behind it and I glare at her.

“Fine,” she reaches for the doorknob, “it’s not my fault if there’s nothing left when you grace us with your presence.”

“Nothing ever is, Your Great Bossiness,” I mumble as I turn back to the screen, and Astrid might have heard me from the pause before she yanks the door fully shut.

For a second I think the internet glitched out, because Heather is staring at me with a near constipated expression, but her eyebrow quirks with natural fluidity and I shrug.

“Are you going to make me ask who that was?”

“If you ask are you going to make me answer?” I rub my forehead, “it was just Astrid, my dad’s most favoritest ranch-hand and the bossiest perfectionist I’ve ever met. As you saw, she cannot stay out of anyone’s business for a second.”

“So, not a new best friend, then?”

“God no,” I snort, “I might actually permit your careless use of the word ‘fascist’ in this case.”

Heather rolls her eyes, the big sort of eye roll she reserves for teachers and her brother when he claims not to know all about the permission slip he obviously signed weeks ago, “did you get an impenetrable coating of country dust in your eye or something?”

“What?”

“Are you blind?” She scoffs, crossing her arms so that I see a few straight delicate lines of the tattoo I don’t know about.

“Once again, what?”

“I didn’t realize you’d lost your ability to identify a hot girl, Hiccup, we’ve got to get you home asap, put you through some remedial training.”

I snort, “Astrid? Yeah, I mean, I’m not blind, but if she’s hot it’s in the ‘fire and brimstone’, satanic way.”

Heather’s staring at me like she can get my pulse from the flicker of her screen or something and I sigh.

“I have a horse.”

“What?” She laughs, “what does that have to do with Astrid being hot? That’s—oh god, Hiccup, I’ll get a psychiatrist note to get you back to civilization asap—”

“No!” I run my hand through my constantly grubby hair, “I—there was a horse when I got here. He was hurt and cranky and didn’t like any of them so they were going to put him down but he liked me and I gave him his antibiotics a few times and now I guess he’s mine and Astrid’s sure she knows everything—Like she thinks she invented horses, I swear—and…” I almost do jazz hands and say ‘ta-da’, but I hold that back. “What’s the new tattoo?”

I’m not as successful at holding back. Apparently.

“Oh,” she holds up her arm, upside down, “it’s that thing we talked about, the constellations?” She twists her arm and reveals thin black line stylizations of Lyra the harp and a slightly larger Aquila the eagle. The stars are careful dots of black on blank white skin and she traces her finger up the inside of her elbow, “and after it heals some, because this hurt more than my leg for some reason, I’m going to get the milky way up around here.”

“Right,” I laugh, “those were the two.”

“Gosh, back then you weren’t Mr. Cowboy yet and you thought your mom’s friend’s farm upstate was really roughing it.”

“So did you!” I shake my head, “you thought there were bears and you kept trying to climb into my sleeping bag.”

“I was cold!” She crosses her arms again, “no one told me we’d be sleeping in a tent. I thought it was a sleeping bag on the living room floor kind of deal.”

“And you hated it.”

“If I wanted to go camping, I’d follow the disillusioned youth to backpack across southeast Asia, where I know there are no bears.”

“Right, only occasionally man-eating tigers, much more manageable.”

“We’ll just have to bring your horse, they can outrun tigers, right?” She leans forward, like she’s interested, or trying to be, “they can hold two people, I know they can, my mom used to love ancient western romances.”

“Well, he can’t hold anyone yet, or maybe he can, I don’t know, he hasn’t yet. I don’t really know how to train him and he won’t let anyone else close to him so…it’s a learning curve. It’s not like I can take him apart and see how he works.” I look at the door, because if Astrid’s going to eavesdrop, this is probably going to be the time, “he’s black. There’s probably some fancy word for that like there is for everything having to do with horses but it just looks like black to me. And he’s smaller, I guess he’s like feral or something, and all the horses around here are super fancy quarter horses.”

“Does he have a name or are you waiting on something fancy for that too?”

“Toothless,” I snort, “because I’m the only one he doesn’t bite on sight. It drives Astrid crazy. She thought she was a bona fide horse whisperer before I came along.”

“Hmm,” Heather leans forward, like she’s tired, but not like I’m boring her. The strap of her tank top slips over her shoulder, flirting with where she wants that milky way and I clear my throat. She cocks her head. “What?”

“Your uh, your strap.”

“It’s two hours later here than it is there, excuse me for being in my grounded pajamas.” Her smile is too tight to be genuine as she continues and I can’t help but note it’s only 5 here, “and your mom locked your window after the whole skipping school incident.”

“You said skipping, not protesting.”

“Whatever,” she shrugs, “skipping is protesting.”

It’s too quiet. Heather and I are never this quiet. We’ve always struggled to whisper. Something feels wrong about it and I look at the time.

“I hate to do this but Astrid isn’t kidding, if I don’t get down there soon there’s not going to be any food left in this house.”

“No one could save you a plate?” She raises her eyebrow, head tilting to the side as the camera catches the shadow of her collar bone in particularly stark relief.

“I’d say it’s a fair feast for 20 people split six ways, including my dad. And then there’s me, scraping at the crumbs. Mom would kill me, I’m eating steak every night, my carbon footprint is huge without accounting for the gas guzzling farm trucks.”

“I’ll tell her, she’ll have you home and back on tofu in an instant.”

“If it were that easy, I’d be back already.” That feels like a lie, because I know already that I can’t leave Toothless, not now, not like this, but it also feels like something that I need to say. Like please and thank you and hello and goodbye. “Anyway though, I gotta go. But we have to chat again the next time you have a hole in your social schedule and Astrid isn’t flogging me to scrub dirt, or something.”

“Yeah, go fight for your steak dinner,” she snorts, “and I promise that’s hotter in my head than it sounds.”

“Yes, remember me like that, gallantly fighting for my dinner, not…sunburned and at an elementary school reject desk.”

“No promises,” she laughs before waving goodbye and hanging up.

My stomach grumbles and I shut my laptop, walking downstairs and out onto the porch where everyone’s staring at me just enough to re-energize old school middle school nightmares about going to school naked and legless.

“Saved you a steak,” Astrid points at the grill glaring at Snotlout like he’d made her argue for it.

“Thanks,” I put it on a plate along with one of the always hard freezer rolls dad keeps buying even though no one actually likes them and when I turn around, everyone is still staring at me. “What?”

“Nothing,” Snotlout shrugs, “just no one would save me food if I held up dinner while talking to my girlfriend.”

“Heather isn’t my girlfriend, who said she was my girlfriend?”

Everyone shifts slightly to look at Astrid. I’m overwhelmingly glad that my dad isn’t here.

“What?” She stands, setting her plate on the table, “you were being all cryptic and talking to a girl alone in your room. It’s not a wild assumption.”

“It’s sort of wild that you’d relay your assumption to everyone.”

“Not everyone,” she rolls her eyes, “I didn’t tell your dad.”

“Didn’t tell me what?” My dad walks out through the sliding glass door, “oh, and Hiccup, I went ahead and turned the internet back off.”

“Mr. Haddock, it’s perfectly safe to just leave it on,” Fishlegs starts, and for a second I think ‘thank god, someone partially on my side in all this’, but then he continues, “at U-dub the wireless only goes down a few times a year for maintenance and no one gets any information they shouldn’t—”

“That’s because no one wants it, Fish,” I cut him off, sitting down next to Ruffnut and stabbing the steak with my fork. I honestly don’t get the big deal. After a decade of halfway dedicated vegetarianism and occasional vegan adventures, I really don’t get the steak hysteria. I’d rather have a big mac right now, to be honest. Something unhealthy that actually tastes like it.

My phone buzzes and I pull it out to see a text from Heather.

Heather: Btw, sneaking out, if I don’t contact you in 48 hours, call the police, my brother probably killed me

“See? It’s totally his girlfriend,” Snotlout grumbles, “look at how focused he is on his phone.”

“Girlfriend?” My dad sits down next to Astrid who obediently scoots to make room, “Hiccup can’t possibly have a girlfriend.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence, Dad.”

“Well he does and her name is Heather, allegedly,” Tuffnut leans back against the porch railing, “all of this is alleged by others than Hiccup himself, so it’s allegedness remains allegedful.”

“Heather? Your kid friend?” My dad raises his eyebrows, “I didn’t realize she was still around.”

“Still lives upstairs, still my friend, not my girlfriend, can we be done with this?” I glare at Astrid, because it is all her fault, anyway. Her fault for not knowing the meaning of privacy and her fault for telling secrets she has no place in.

“Yeah, shut up about it everyone,” she waves her fork around like she’s issuing a public decree and I narrow my eyes.

“I think me asking them to shut up was probably adequate—”

“You would think that, wouldn’t you?” Her jaw flexes, a silent irritation not quite bordering on challenge and my dad clears his throat.

“Ruffnut, it’s your turn to do the dishes tonight.” He announces, standing up and grabbing his plate.

Ruffnut groans, “of course I get stuck in the kitchen the one time something actually happens.”

“Nothing is happening,” Astrid takes a near vengeful bite of steak before pushing her half-eaten plate towards Tuffnut, who grabs it eagerly as she stands up, “I’ll see you guys tomorrow. 5am. Try to get up yourselves this time.”

She stalks off and I try to ignore the burning of the back of my neck from Ruffnut staring at me. I cave, glaring up at her.

“What?”

“Not your girlfriend, huh?”

“Don’t you have dishes to do?” I look back at my plate, trying to maintain some appetite after the long day I had but it’s all gone. I shove it to the middle of the table and stand up myself.��

Toothless isn’t busy, at least that’s something I can count on.

#t:rttbposc #httyd fic #modern au #hiccstrid #horse girl hiccup #he's...so bratty #why is he so bratty #i love him #i do fear i'm going to have to explain wyoming to people though #just like the concept #it's a state with only 2 escalators #people refer to a place with two grocery stores as a city #always windy #coal and cows and yeah like yellowstone but at what cost?

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omgjasminesimone · 5 years

Text

Running Part 1

Colt x MC (Ellie)

Next Part: Part 2

Author’s Note: Finally, I have an idea for a Colt x MC miniseries! I’ve wanted to write one forever, but had no inspiration until now! This won’t be long, I’m thinking 3 or 4 parts.

Summary: Ellie is forced to ask herself some hard questions after discovering that she’s pregnant with Colt’s baby.

Rating: PG-13

Word Count: 2200

Ellie paces the bathroom restlessly, chewing on her nails as she waits for her phone to alert her that the five minutes needed for the at home pregnancy test are up. It had taken two missed periods, a month of nausea, and extreme breast sensitivity (She’d discovered that last symptom only last night when Colt had squeezed her breasts roughly as she rode him) to make her confront the possibility that she might be pregnant. God knows it’s not like she and Colt have been careful enough to prevent an unplanned pregnancy in the 3 months since she graduated from Langston and returned to LA.

Ellie had come straight to the rebuilt Kaneko Auto Shop in Gramercy Park from LAX. Her father was very unhappy about it, but despite his many objections when Ellie and Colt got back together her senior year (after Colt deemed that he had laid low long enough and finally showed up unexpectedly at her dorm after almost 3 and half years of radio silence), Detective Wheeler couldn’t stop them. Ellie had a job offer in Boston she had passed up in order to return to LA, to return to Colt. According to her father, she was making a grave mistake.

But Ellie didn’t feel like she was making a mistake, despite the fact that Colt was still involved in crime. With the Brotherhood gone, Colt decided to rebuild the Mercy Park Crew. Ximena had come back, but the rest of the crew consisted of new members. When Ellie couldn’t find a job in LA, she had gotten involved with the shop. Her economics degree was coming in handy as she handled the financials (she also helped cook the books to hide the Mercy Park Crew’s profits under the legitimate auto shop front). Ellie knows she should feel bad about descending back into crime after miraculously getting away with everything she did that last year of high school, but she doesn’t. Especially not with the way Colt looks at her as they work together, like he’s so damn proud he might burst.

Colt smirks widely as Ellie finishes her accounting spreadsheet, that sexy little criminal typing numbers quickly, intensely focused on her task.

“What?” She asks when she notices how he’s looking at her.

“You’re so fucking sexy when you help me steal shit.” Colt responds earnestly.

Ellie laughs, closing her laptop. She scoots over from the desk chair beside him (it doesn’t really fit, the desk clearly made for just one person, but they make it work), perching herself in his lap instead. He wraps his arms around her, the blueprints to the factory he’s targeting are on the desk behind her completely forgotten as his eyes fall to those plump lips of her’s he loves. “It’s me and you baby, running this whole town.” Ellie promises before kissing him roughly, biting his bottom lip harder than she probably should.

But he responds with a pleased groan, using his arm to knock everything from his side of the desk, placing her on top of it and stepping between her legs.

The phone countdown completes with a shrill beep, stunning Ellie out of her reverie. She grabs the pregnancy test off the counter, face falling as she reads the results. Two lines. She’s pregnant.

Ellie takes a seat on the toilet, staring in disbelief at the test still clutched in her hand. This wasn’t supposed to happen. She’s only 22. She just graduated from college. Her and Colt have only been back together for 9 months. Colt. Shit. How is she supposed to tell Colt?

Ellie takes some time to compose herself before finally leaving the bathroom, silently creeping back into their bedroom. She slips into bed without waking Colt, quite a feat since Colt is a very light sleeper, always alert, waiting for something bad to happen. She stares at his slumbering form. He’s not exactly peaceful, brow furrowed as if he’s worried about something, but he’s softer when he sleeps. She can almost imagine this version of him as a father, cuddling their little bundle of joy, teaching their daughter or son to ride a bike, helping their child with homework at the kitchen table.

But then Ellie looks around the room. The bars Colt has installed on the windows to prevent anyone from breaking in, the loaded gun he keeps on the nightstand for protection, the drawer where she knows he keeps wads of cash obtained through dishonest means.

This is no environment for a baby, for a child. Ellie worries her bottom lip, flipping onto her back to stare at the ceiling fan slowly twirling above them. She can’t imagine Colt giving up this lifestyle. Not when he sees it as his legacy, his destiny, his only way to feel close to his father. He might give it up for her, and their baby, if she asks. If she begs. But would he secretly resent her?

Ellie doesn’t get any sleep that night, her mind goes at a hundred miles per hour, thinking too much as always. Light trails through the thin curtains as dawn breaks. Ellie flinches in surprise when Colt’s arm wraps around her, not having heard him wake up and stretch as she was lost in her thoughts.

“What’s got you so jumpy?” Colt asks, yawning as he fully wakes up.

Ellie ignores his question, rolling over to face him and staring into his brown eyes. His eyes narrow as she looks at him like that, quickly becoming uncomfortable with her intense stare. “Seriously, what’s wrong with you?” He prompts.

“Can I ask you a question?” Ellie responds after several moments, weaving her fingers into his thick dark hair.

“If I say no, are you actually not going to ask?” Colt questions.

Ellie smiles softly at his smart aleck response, thumb rubbing soft circles at the top of his neck. “It’s kind of a heavy question.” She admits softly.

“Just tell me all ready. Then we can take care of this.” Colt replies impatiently, his hand balling into the front of his t-shirt that she’s wearing, pulling her flush against him and his morning wood.

“At the casino….that night….” Ellie trails off as Colt’s face hardens, his desire forgotten as he flashes back to his botched plan to take out the Brotherhood and his father’s untimely demise. They don’t talk about this often. Ellie swallows, forcing herself to continue. “If Logan hadn’t been there, would you have opened that vault door Colt?” Ellie questions, watching as Colt internally panics.

After a few moments, she grips his chin, pulling him into a bruising kiss. Colt deepens the kiss, tongue delving into the wet cavern of her mouth. He starts to tug at her borrowed shirt, but she pulls away, brown eyes fluttering open to stare into his own. “It’s okay if the answer is no. I just want to know. It’s something I’ve been thinking about.” Ellie confesses.

Colt licks his suddenly dry lips, thinking. “Are you asking if I’d open that door, knowing that my dad would die?” Colt asks.

Ellie winces, feeling guilty even though Colt has assured her time and time again that he doesn’t blame her for what happened to his father. “No, not knowing the future. Just in that moment, would you have opened the door?” She presses.

“That’s a stupid question. I don’t like fucked up hypothetical questions.” Colt replies defensively.

“….I don’t think you would have. Maybe now you would, but not then. You didn’t try to check on me after, you went straight to try to close the door.” Ellie remembers.

Colt glares. “Logan had you, I didn’t need to check on you. That was my last chance to get the plan back on track-“ He tries to explain, but she interrupts.

“It’s fine Colt. I’m not mad. I just think it’s something I needed to know for sure.”

“Why are you even asking me this? What, do you think Logan loves you more? Are you going to find that asshole and leave me?” Colt asks, anger breaking through the calm tone he’s trying to maintain.

“Hey.” Ellie soothes, pulling him into a soft kiss to try to calm him. “This isn’t about Logan. I chose you. I’ll always choose you.” Ellie assures.

Colt calms slightly, tangling his hands into her dark hair. “I do love you Ellie, you know that right? I loved you then too, even if I didn’t know it yet. I was young and dumb back then, and honestly I probably wouldn’t have opened the door. But I’m glad I didn’t have to make that decision, because it would have been the worst mistake of my life. I love you baby, so much.”

Ellie smiles softly as Colt pulls her into another deep kiss by the back of her neck. “I love you too Colt, always. You know, I think the fact that you wouldn’t have opened that door is part of why I chose you over Logan. I know you love me, but I’m not your everything. That’s too much pressure for me, being the center of someone’s universe. You could live without me.” Ellie reveals when she pulls away.

Colt frowns at that, looking at her closely. What’s going on with her? “I might be capable of living without you, but I wouldn’t want to. You know that, right?” Colt implores.

Ellie nods. “I know.”

“Seriously Ellie, what’s going on? Did you get a job offer across the country?”

“No.” Ellie answers.

“Did your dad finally convince you to move back in with him?” He guesses.

“No, Colt. It’s nothing.” She sits up, pulling her hair out of her messy bun and starting to braid it.

Colt sits up with her, grabbing her arm and turning her to look at him. “Are you pregnant?” Her eyes widen a fraction of an inch before she gets her expression back under control, but he catches it. “You’re pregnant.” He repeats, not a question this time.

“I took a couple of pregnancy tests last night. They’re all positive. I….I’m going to have this baby Colt. Even though I know we’re not ready.” Ellie insists, looking at him nervously.

“Of course we’re having this baby.” Colt echoes, surprising her with the unmasked affection in his tone. He places his hands on her still flat stomach, caressing her affectionately. “We love each other, and we’ll love this baby.”

“How are we going to support a baby?” Ellie questions.

Colt arches a brow. “What do you mean? Everything is going really well with the crew. We’ll keep doing what we’re doing, stealing cars from the manufacturers, selling them on the black market. Using the autobody shop as a front.”

“Colt, we can’t keep living like this with a baby. What if we get caught, what if we go to jail? You want our kid to grow up in foster care?”

Colt rolls his eyes. “In the unlikely event we got caught, I would take the fall. And in the even more unlikely case that we both do go down, your dad wouldn’t let his grandkid go to foster care.”

“You’d want my dad to raise our child?” Ellie asks incredulously. Detective Wheeler is not a fan of Colt, and the hatred goes both ways. Colt and her father have only met once, but once was more than enough.

“Obviously not ideal, but I’m just going with your ridiculous hypothetical. I have no intention of getting caught and having someone else raise our child.” Colt defends.

“Colt, we can’t just hope for the best. We need to be realistic. I can’t do this with you if you’re not willing to leave this lifestyle behind.” Ellie reveals, tears welling in her eyes as his face becomes impassive.

She knows she’s asking a lot from him. Colt never went back to college, he’d put so much time and effort into rebuilding the crew. He loves this lifestyle, had chosen it despite all his dad had done to keep him out. But she can’t bring her child into this. Sure, this whole life of crime had been exhilarating, her adrenaline spiked when they raced at various drag shows, when they pulled off a huge score, when they got away with it day after day. But it’s time to grow up now, to be serious and practical.

“…It’s already too late for me to get out Ellie. What, you think I can just walk away and the people I’ve crossed are just going to let everything go? They won’t. We need to keep the crew going for protection at this point.”

Ellie gulps, taking in the reality of their situation. Colt takes her into his arms, whispering reassurances into her ear, promising he’ll keep her and their baby safe as he plants kisses along her skin.

But Ellie knows that he can’t promise their safety. And she knows what she has to do now, no matter how much it will kill her.

…

Ellie has just started to show when she turns up on her dad’s porch one month later, she’s three months pregnant now and it’s time to tell her father. He’s none too pleased to find out she’s pregnant with Colt’s baby, but his mood immediately brightens when Ellie reveals that she’s leaving, and that she needs her father’s help to run away.

…

Taglist: @brightpinkpeppercorn @choicesarehard @lovehugsandcandy @desiree-0816 @regina-and-happiness @iplaydrake @hazah @sibella-plays-choices @maxwellsquidsuit @eileendannie @liamzigmichael4ever @lady-dianelewis @client-327 @cora-nova @umiumichan

#ride or die #colt kaneko #colt x mc #playchoices #choices fanfiction

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bellatrixobsessed1 · 5 years

Text

Mutilated Mannequin (Part 11)

It doesn’t feel right to be accompanied to homecoming with Jet of all people, but the boy is a suave smooth talker and, more than anything, she hopes to mend the rough patches. He has offered her a chance to clear the air between them. Maybe if it goes well, she won’t have to deal with chuckles and nasty words whispered behind her back. Maybe, the in crowd will finally give her some peace now that one of their own is talking kindly to her.

Maybe Yue will give it a rest. Now that, is too much to ask.

“Lets go dance.” Jet offers, it teeters way too close to a demand for Katara’s comfort.

“I’m not much of a dancer.” Katara sputters. “I’m not as graceful on land as I am in the water.”

“It’s a dance. At dances, you dance.” Jet cracks a smile. She thinks that it is meant to be a playful one but it has the effect of the wolves in her ma’s bedtime stories. “I’ll show you some easy ones.” His second offer is more soothing. Maybe she is just being paranoid with first dance jitters.

“I’m going to go have a dance with Jet.” She calls to Sokka for good measure.

“Be careful in those heels!” Sokka shouts back.

Katara winces, she had forgotten about those. “Okay, maybe dancing isn’t a great idea…”

“Trust me, I’ll show you some dances that are heel safe. And if you fall, I’ll catch you.” He winks.

Katara gives a soft laugh. “Okay, since you’re being so charming tonight.” She lets him lead her away from Sokka and Suki. She steals one last glimpse at them. Sokka gives her a thumbs up and Suki mouths, “you got this.” She sure hopes that she does.

“Just follow in my lead.” He says as the song changes. It is some kind of electronic song and she has no idea how to keep pace with a song that has that many beats per minute. Yet, there Jet is making it look so easy. Even if his moves don’t match the rhythm. He takes her arms and she lets him move them in a slower rendering of the dance he was just doing.

“You getting a feel for it?”

“I think so.” She nods.

“Wanna give it a go yourself?”

“I guess I’ll give it a try.”

“Alright. Just remember, you’re not trying out for the dance team. This is for fun so, throw in your own moves.” Jet lets go of her hands.

“I think I can do that.” Katara grins. She can’t help it, he is a surprisingly pleasant date. Her rendition of his moves are clumsy at best and sloppy at worst.

“You’re a little tight, try loosening your stance up a bit.”

She takes his advice, but she feels more like jell-o than a dainty dancer. “How was that?” She laughs.

He chuckles along with her. “It was...uh...it was unique, that’s for sure.”

Somehow, Jet’s laughter makes hers come out harder, hard enough for it to be accompanied by a snort. Her cheeks flush, could she possibly embarrass herself anymore. He laughs harder still, “that’s adorable.”

“You think so? Yue thinks…”

“Yue thinks that Dai Lis are a terrible band. We don’t trust her judgment.”

Katara sighs with relief. “Good to know. The Dai Lis are legends!”

“Hell yes they are!” Jet declares. “You want me to get you some fruit punch, I hear that they have the blue kind this year.”

“Blue kind is great.” Katara grins. She watches him make his way over to the concessions stand. She notices Azula lingering by the chocolate fountain and wonders who her partner for the night is. Chan is with TyLee; perhaps it is Chan’s friend, what was his name? Something with an R. Roan maybe? She taps her foot along with the beat of the song. Another grin spreads across her face as it dawns upon her that she is hearing a Dai Lis song.

Maybe if Jet hustles up, they can dance to it together.

But that song transitions into another and then into the song after.

Her feet are growing uncomfortable again, perhaps the discomfort had never left at all, she had only been distracted from it. In fact, the pain seems to come on stronger having danced in those heels.

A third song begins.

She looks up at the concessions stand. She can’t find Jet.

And, for what it’s worth, Azula is gone too.

She wanders over to Sokka, “did you see where Jet went?”

“Did you check the men’s room?”

Katara tilts her head.

“Oh, right.” Sokka rubs the back of his head. “Maybe just lurk outside of the bathroom, he’ll come out eventually, if he’s in there.”

“I’ll give that a try just as soon as you get off of my dress.”

“Sorry!” Sokka apologizes. He moves his foot and she picks up the somewhat lengthy train of her dress. She is beginning to realize what a silly idea it was to wear such a long and flowing thing in such a large crowd. She is lucky that the dress hasn’t ripped yet. This is the most expensive dress she owns. Will probably ever own.

She waits by the bathroom for a few minutes, the sound of EDM is beginning to give her a headache. This is not her scene at all, it’s too loud and there are too many people. Suddenly the lights are too bright and, combined with the relentless shimmer of confetti and glitter, her eyes don’t stand a chance.

Katara swallows and enters the room again. Perhaps Jet is looking for her as well and they are both wandering aimlessly.

She doesn’t know why it catches her so off guard to find the boy sitting at one of the tables with Yue, Zuko, Mai, Kei Lo, and Chan’s friend. She notes that Zuko is sitting as far away from Mai as he can manage, even from this distance, the tension is palpable.

Katara jumps when Chan’s friend--decidely she calls him, R--slams his fists on the table and declares, “my God, she’s such a bitch! She’s acting like I kissed that other girl. It was just a dance, I don’t even know her name.”

“Did you tell her that?” Zuko asks.

“You think I’d be complaining if she listened!?” R shot back. “This dance is such bullshit, mate. I’m fuckkin’ outta here.”

Katara jolts again when he slams his chair against the table. The remaining few gathered at it fall into silence only to burst into laughter when Yue says, “what a drama queen.”

“Yeah, he’s giving you a run for your money.” Jet remarks.

Katara takes a deep breath and begins to approach.

“Your date going any better?” Yue asks.

Katara holds her breath.

“Yeah.” Jet smiles and Katara releases her breath. Or was it a smirk? She holds her breath again.

“You going to share?” Though Mai’s voice doesn’t convey any sign of actually caring beyond social graces.

“Okay, check this shit out.” He pulls out his phone. “I got the nerd to dance.”

“Is she as awful as you predicted?” Yue giggles.

“Oh, she’s much worse. Especially when she tried making up her own dance. Here…” he holds the phone out and quickly gestures to it. “Here just watch.”

Katara swallows and her face goes hot. How could she have been so foolish? He’d called her ‘a darkie’ only days before. He’d been a complete asshole. People don’t just evolve from jerks to charmers overnight. She swallows a second time and wipes the one tear that managed to escape. “I’m so stupid.” She mumbles aloud.

So stupid because she knows damn well that a quite night watching rom-coms and eating chex-mix with Aang is her idea of a party. Not that Aang would give her company tonight...she slaps her forehead, what is she saying, of course he’d make time for her if she just asked. She could join he and Haru. But the second to last thing she wants is to feel like a third wheel tonight.

The last thing she wants is to stay at this dance.

She flees the strobelights as a roar of laughter wafts up from Jet’s table.

Her fingers are almost too shaky to text her father, she is almost sure that every other word is spelled wrong. Not that it matters. The night air is too chilly for the first weekend of October and her sleeves are as short as the bottom of her dress is long.

She shivers and finds herself a spot on the curb. R stands a few feet away, demanding a ride home. His temper does little to pacify her nerves. She buries her face in her hands and lets herself cry. It doesn’t matter who sees, she has already embarrassed herself.

#Avatar #Katara #Azula #Sokka #Aang #Toph #Suki #Mai #TyLee #Zuko #Fanfiction

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ladyruina · 5 years

Text

First story on this site

Three weeks. It had been three weeks since promotion day and to be honest, I had no freaking clue what Promotion Day even was. Apparently once every month the facility selects someone to be “promoted”, the problem is that the people who don’t make the promotion selection get bare minimum notification. Turns out my sector was just informed that I was transferred to a new sector...no one even knew where I went ...explains what happened to Silica. Today, after three weeks, I woke up to a waiting room. Empty seats on every side and beneath my...tush. The same metal box I lived in for the past seventeen years after “recruitment” and would probably die in. The room had the same aesthetic as everywhere else in the facility, stainless steel walls and flooring with well lit bulbs. Couldn’t tell which type of lightbulb though I’d have to gamble fluorescent bulbs with UV integration, cheap, effective and keeps us alive for a little bit longer. Just how the facility likes it. As per my regular protocol when in an unfamiliar space without a commanding officer I entered a status I have titled, “eyes down, nose out of others business”. It’s embarrassing to say that it took a rough fifteen seconds before realizing that the marks of claws against the floor were EVERYWHERE. You adjust to this kind of thing in the facility, there’s always something clawing up the floors, crawling up the walls or eating your friends upper lobe… rest in peace Franklin. My mind defaulted to entity containment training, signs of anomalous activity identified, analyze the signs: three toed claws, they appear to be dexterous and agile similar to species of avians and raptors. Stage four determine if anomalous being has moved from the ar-, that’s when I finally looked up. Three seats down from me stood a humanoid figure, full combat armor with the exact raptorian legs and feet that produced the scratch marks but the entity was calm almost seemed like it was waiting, same as me save for a bit of an impatient air. It swiftly and repetitively tapped its talons against the ground. Naturally my first thought occurred. “Oh god, is promotion just code word for feeding me to an entity.” I scanned the room only to discover many more entities, some looked very similar to the raptorian entity, others were vastly different. Entities with helmets resembling felines moving from one individual to another, entities with creepy masks that were standing on the walls and ceilings to avoid the clutter on the ground, entities that had no eye holes but spikes at the back on the helmet that vaguely reminded me of bats. All were equipped with combat armor and....facility issue weaponry? Aside from that there were few other schmucks in the room that looked a lot like me, scared, panicked and confused. I looked over to the impatient one only to see it staring at me.

“Shit!” it said in a surprisingly human voice “I-uh, sorry about starin’. It’s always just so weird to see one of you in here.”

“One of...me?” I implored.

“Y’know, an unaugmented.” it gestured at all of me. “So… weird after you’ve gone through the process. So, y’know which one you’ll be?”

I hesitated. “What?”

“Y’know. Like a raptor, a bat, a cat. That sorta thing.” it seemed to be naming things off the top of its head. “I’m a raptor so you could learn the ropes with me if you end up a part of the pack.”

This fascinated me, I had never been allowed to examine or interview an entity that I had no knowledge of. So a part of me was excited despite realizing that at any moment this entity could unhinge it’s non apparent jaws and rip into my throat with it’s horrific unseen maw. Yet the pioneer sense of exploring the unknown just...overcame me.

“So what are raptors?” I asked.

“Well, you’re lookin at one.” it said in a smug tone. “We’re faster and more dexterous than the others. Only downside is that itchy to move sensation you get due to the energy boost they hook you up with and that these masks keep you alive.”

“I’m sorry what?”

“Heh. yeah, that’s what I said. Apparently The Fixer said that our oxygen has been made “inefficient” by the pollution of the modern world so we’re hooked up with some sorta super oxygen. Apparently it’s the kinda stuff dinosaurs used to breath so that’s pretty badass.”

“And that helps?”

“Gives us the energy to bounce off walls, literally.”

“Fascinating… are the other entities safe to converse with?”

“Ent-? Oh, them? Yeah most of em are chill, might get an extreme one or two but they should be reasonable.”

“Right, thank you.”

“Eh, no prob dude.”

I stood up and began to wander over to one of the “bats” who was standing in a group of its own kin. I began to raise my hand to greet it as I approached, a quick “hey” to get it’s attention only to be interrupted.

“Yes?” it said in a high pitched tone, turning to face me before it even should have known I was on my way. Apparently my shock was apparent as it recoiled quickly. “Right, sorry. I forgot unaugmented wouldn’t know about that. I heard you coming, you’d be surprised how easily you are to hear coming.”

“Echolocation?”

“Indeed! Along with some other traits.” It said “I’m basically omniscient with these mods! I can tell you anything about this room without even looking at it.”

“Hm.” I smirked. “How about this? What color is my shirt?”

It stared at me for a second before giving a light punch. “Cheating asshole.”

“Just wanted to see if you’re capable of processing color.”

“You could’ve asked.”

the amusement faded from my expression as I began to realize that what I said was quite apparently a sore topic.

“Oh...sorry.”

“Whatever.”

I began to awkwardly leave the company of the bats before slumping back into my chair. A few minutes go by and I’m bored out of my goddamn mind. Wish they left me a phone to check, or a magazine to read or a pistol to shoot myself with. Between the embarrassment of my slip-up and the boredom I think the lead would be preferable.

“Excuse me.” said a familiar voice. “I couldn’t help but notice multiple strains in your face aligning with stress that may be caused by the process of transferring to a new region. Is it possible that I may alleviate some of your stress through a formal discussion?”

I looked up, it was goddamn impossible. I heard she was transferred and she just never responded to any message from then on, I thought she either ditched me or… the far more likely scenario, eviscerated or incinerated.

“Silica?” the name of my best friend. “Silica is that you?”

The entity looked confused. “Curious. You have information on my title but records state that you were only stationed here today.”

“Silica. It’s me.” I said in a shaken tone. “Devin.”

“Devin…” she stared at me blankly, moments passed by. “Ah yes. We used to be close friends, is this information correct?”

“Yes. so you’ve been here this whole time?”

“Affirmative, Devin.”

“What happened? Why didn’t you respond to any messages I sent?”

Another brief silence. “I just checked my message log, I received none of them under the name of “Devin” or any related pseudonym.”

“Really?” this was...a bit heartbreaking to say the very least. “You had to keep in touch with Evelyn! I remember the day you got Evelyn’s contact address and you were a goddamn mess. Head over heels! Please tell me you kept in touch.”

Another goddamn pause. “Oh yes, Evelyn. I suppose she was very nice and pretty wasn’t she?”

“What are you talking about?!” the other entity’s started staring at me. I was getting loud. “You sound like you don’t care! You goddamn loved her and now she’s an afterthought?!”

“Please calm yourself. You’re becoming exacerbated and it may draw negative connotations towards you in future conversations with the other people residing in this room.”

I began to look over, the entities around me seemed...concerned. “S-sorry. I’m just hurt is all. It feels like you don’t remember...anything from back at Mind’s Edge.”

“Oh! That I can answer! I don’t!” she said so simply. My heart goddamn sank into the Mariana Trench and she said it so easily.

“You..forgot?”

“Don’t take it personally. Cat units have an AI planted into their brain in order to give them in depth data banks of medical procedures as well as a list of information that may be useful. This unfortunately has to replace long term memories which our AI assistants must remind us of. This also can lead to stunted emotional development. Fortunately though the emotional stagnation only caused depression in earlier Cat units. It also allows us to be proper care takers without having to worry about emotional errors such as becoming overly attached to the patient in therapy settings or panicking in active combat treatment scenarios.”

“I...need some time to process all of this.”

“Acknowledged. Please contact me or another Cat unit if you require any further psychological or physiological aid.”

“Y-yeah, got it. You got it.” That’s probably what I said. Can’t remember if it was actually what I said or not, I was in a haze. Every entity in this room was...a person? My best friend had forgotten about me. The whole world around me just faded. My greatest fear though was...what came next. My thoughts were cut short by the distant sound of heavy claws scraping against the cold metal rang out. As it approached, I could hear the sound of cloth being dragged across the ground. A voice spoke, both high and low pitched with a sort of rattle in its tone.

“Routine Procedures completed. Additional Augmentation scheduled.”

The door on the farside of the room opened.

“Devin.” The creature spoke “Devin Hale. Augmentation scheduled. Follow for Augmentation.”

#original story #fiction #science fiction #transhumanism

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kyluxtrashpit · 5 years

Text

Hello naughty children, it’s 1 am rant time

So! My brain is slightly more together now than after the trailer first dropped and I’ve had some time to process all my Feels. I’ve settled on cautiously hopeful, with a hint of apprehension and a strong dose of ‘oh my god, this is really the end’. But overall, I think I feel pretty good about it, though it really raises more questions than answers. They meant it when they said ‘teaser’ lmao

(Rant is mostly positive, includes explicit discussion of what we’ve learned from the panel and the trailer. Some reservations and negative thoughts, plus a lot of speculation and touching on such controversial subjects as Reysky, Kylo redemption, and Hux in TLJ. Cut for length because I have no idea how to just use fewer words lmao)

I especially liked that it was so focused on Rey and that it’s a very clear torch-passing. Which, tbh, probably should’ve happened before now and did a little bit, but this really felt like the true moment of it. She’s the hero. She’s going to be a legend. I love that. Also that flip? Holy fuck. Slammed in the face by the reminder of how gay I am lmao. I have some Thoughts about it I’ll get into below, but from a visual point of view, it’s RAD AS HELL. I also love Finn and Poe featuring heavily and that the trio really does seem to be together for most of the movie. Which is nice. I think we need that. JJ said something in the panel about it being an ‘adventure’ and I think that feeling was captured well in the trailer. That part really excites me

Also! My boy! Kylo’s looking like a right hot mess and tbh I’m here for it lmao. I still have a strong urge to bathe him and kinda hope he doesn’t look like a depressed wreck of a human being for the entire movie, but still. I love my big messy boy. Also him just yeeting that dude into the ground? DAMN. I sometimes forget that Kylo is like… b i g. It’s a nice reminder. I also LOVE that the broken helmet rumour was real. That’s my fucking boy. I frequently tag him as ‘my precious disaster boy’ for a reason and I’m glad to see more of that. I would honestly probably lose interest in Kylo completely if he was ever like, calm and composed and not a complete fucking mess lmao. I kind of wish we’d seen just a touch more of him, but I know there’s more info to come and I still like that it focused heavily on the heroes for the first one. I imagine we’ll see more of him later

I’m… not really sure what to think of the Palpatine reveal. If he’s going to show up as a cameo of some sort, say as a Force ghost or something, then that’s pretty dang cool. If he’s going to show up as a ‘hello naughty children, it’s Force lightning time’ and take over as the main threat, I’d admittedly be disappointed. As much as I think a Kylo redemption is likely (and whether people like that or not, I’m indifferent and have made my peace with it as long as it’s done in an okay way) in no small part because Disney likes money, I still feel like replacing him with Palpatine is just… it feels derivative. We’ve had Palpatine before. A lot. 6 movies of him plus his appearances in the side materials. Do we really need more?

Now, there’s been heavy suggestion that there is some unknown threat that comes into this one and if that’s Palpatine, it would match up with the rumours. But I’d much rather it be something from his legacy with him only having a cameo. Because the really terrifying part about Palpatine is he had a plan for the continued survival of the Empire even in the case of his death. The Aftermath novels are really well done that way and tbh, especially with Chuck Wendig’s hinting on twitter, I wouldn’t be surprised if we see something from there come up. I mean, technically the entire First Order is Palpatine’s legacy. Something from his legacy could truly be anything and I like that possibility a lot more than just ‘oh damn, time to kill this asshole again’. Idk. We’ll have to see how that plays out

The title is also curious because it really confirms one of 2 possibilities: either Reysky, Kylo redemption, or both. Which, again, both of those are huge spoilers, so it’s an interesting choice to play for a title. That said, we don’t know which, so it doesn’t tell us definitively, I suppose, but still. And no, I don’t buy the theories about it referring to Luke or Anakin somehow returning; that would be stupid. We have new characters for a reason and they need to be the central focus. This is the same reason I’m not fond of Palpatine being the big bad; let the new villains shine. I also don’t believe it’s Leia because I doubt they had enough left over footage of Carrie to make that work

Of course, I would’ve enjoyed having a nice 0.2 seconds of the back of Hux’s head lmao, or even any info on the dark side characters at all because I’m a filthy villain fucker, but I’m not super upset about it. I’m kinda sad that Phasma is confirmed as dead, but I also expected that. My biggest hope for Hux is really that he gets to be scary and not treated as a joke, so I hope JJ really leans in to that. Let him have his moment. Let him be a credible threat because, really, he is. Tbh, I’d be more afraid of him as my nemesis than the vast majority of Star Wars villains. He’s got a higher kill count than anyone in all of Star Wars except maybe Palpatine himself (exact number of deaths due to the Clone Wars, the Empire’s rule, and the rebellion combined are unknown, but are probably in the billions, which would put him and Hux, terrifyingly, on the same level). It still throws me for a loop how often that’s forgotten, both by fandom and, sometimes, the official material. Hux is what happens when ambition, intelligence, ruthlessness, and fervent belief in a cause converge. I know he’s going to fail and he’s going to die in this one but, fuck, please let him die as the Starkiller instead of a ‘miscast tinkerer’. He deserves that much and, more importantly, so do I lmao. And Domhnall does too, tbh, because he’s a great actor who deserves better than being sidelined completely

(Another reason not to like Palpatine coming back: basically guarantees Hux has no role and gets completely forgotten because there’s a new big bad in town. I might actually cry if that happens)

I also know we will get more on the villains later, so we’ll just have to see how that pans out. As for other new stuff, Naomi Ackie’s character looks rad as fuck and I love her already. I’m also ECSTATIC to see Lando back. I fucking love Lando. And he finally got the Falcon back! Tbh I hope his role is rather significant and it’s kinda in line with Han’s role in TFA. I’m excited by that possibility. Also the Leia scenes… fuck. That hug with Rey fucked me up hard. I can’t believe we’re doing this without Carrie and it breaks my heart tbh

Another curious note: so we see a tie fighter that looks like a modified Silencer flying at Rey. We also see Kylo in a cockpit that definitely does not match the Silencer’s from TLJ. So it’s possible that was not actually Kylo flying at her, which raises some interesting questions. I saw some people saying they could see Poe’s jacket in the window but I think they’re full of shit and just seeing something they want to lmao. It remains to be seen who is actually flying it. The context of that scene is also odd: in what fucking universe does it make sense to use a SPACE craft with GUNS capable of atmospheric flight to run someone ON FOOT over from like 3 feet off the ground? It doesn’t. That’s stupid. That does make me think it’s possible it’s some sort of really risky training exercise, no matter who is behind the controls. I suppose it is possible that perhaps the guns were disabled somehow and the pilot is just going for broke, but the ship looks undamaged and that strategy still doesn’t make a lot of sense. The correct thing to do would be to come from above and crash it into the person while ejecting moments before impact, not chasing them like you’re driving a car. It’s dumb. I really hope that’s not real combat because it makes no damn sense to me lmao. Another reason lending to the training exercise idea: if I were Rey, I would’ve gone below, not above. She’s small. A tie fighter hovers. She would’ve fit under it easily and been able to slash from below without having to jump into the damn sky. Though, counterpoint: she has her lightsaber ignited and is turning to slash at the cockpit. Not really a nice thing to do to an ally of yours helping you train, hm? Idk. The scene looks cool as fuck, but the more I think about it, the more it bugs me tbh lmao

As a last thing… it’s really hitting me that this is it. This is the end of the Skywalker saga. Even though I know they have other stories planned with new characters at some point, imo, this is really the end of the true part of the franchise. How much am I really going to care about Star Wars without the familiar faces? After decades… this is really it. That’s… very bittersweet. I have loved these movies, always, but especially so in recent years (as evidenced by the existence of this blog lmao) and they’ve been a big part of my life. Yet here we are. And I just… I’m feeling melancholy about that in and of itself, but I also really, really want this to be a satisfying ending. It doesn’t have to be perfect, but I want it to fit. I want it to feel right. I want closure and I want this ending to do justice to these characters, including the main ones, the side ones, and the ones who came before but aren’t featured in this trilogy. That’s really what I’m aching for here. And I am cautiously hopeful, but I am also nervous. This is a very tall order and, while JJ is probably the person best qualified to give that to us, it doesn’t change how much of a challenge that is. It’s a lot. And… I am definitely sad about this being the end. Even if I love the movie and it’s amazing and lives up to all of my dreams, it will still end and this will be it. I honestly don’t know how I’m going to feel when that actually comes and it kinda scares me a little. But a satisfying ending would help soften the blow, so we shall see. Idk. I’m sad and a little scared just because of that, all other reservations aside

I think that’s all I’ve got for now? I’m excited for more and I don’t know if we’ll get much over the rest of celebration, but there might be snippets. I’d still like to see the Knights of Ren too, given that we’re pretty sure they’re in the movie but like… where? Lmao I want to know. Anyway. This is mostly word vomit, so don’t take it too seriously. My predictions could be way off base and we won’t know for a while so yeah. If you read this far, congrats and thanks for reading my rambling!

#so like I guess overall I'm hopeful but I still have reservations #and no matter what this being really truly over is... a lot to take tbh #so idk. mixed feelings I guess #but there was definitely some good stuff and I feel more excited about star wars than I have in a long time #even if it's not at the same level as it has been #positive is still positive so we shall see #I still want more info lmao #like just someone leak the entire plot already please I want to read it XD #shut up nerd #text #meta

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