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roscgcld · 4 years

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HEADCANONS + GOJO SATORU || onii-chan

note: this was a few ideas given to me by my beloved 🌸Anon - a bunch of new gojotwins!au headcanons c: this one is a little different compared to my other story, so this is a stand alone one. might turn it into a series if it gets enough love, but we’ll see~ you can read the original ask here!

pronouns: she/her

note: mentions of blood and death and spoilers for volume 8 & 9 of the manga. SUPER LONG by the way lol

gojotwins!au masterlist

twins have always been viewed as a bad omen for the parents - there are high chances of both twins developing no Cursed Technique at all, or have a Cursed Technique that is not desirable. So there had been no hope when one of the wives from the main family of the gojo clan was pregnant, and from what they can tell with twins at that

so it was a huge surprise to not only the elders but the entire jujutsu world when not one, but both of the twins were born with the coveted Six Eyes - something that had never happened in the history of the gojo clan. it was a moment to be celebrated!

if only they knew just what was lies ahead

much to the delight of the elders, the older one of the twins was the boy, satoru, while the girl was born 20 minutes after - it wouldn’t have mattered if it was the other way around, but just having the young boy being the one born first was definitely the icing on the cake

both of you were an absolute headache to deal with, causing so much chaos and mayhem that the elders had wondered if they should have celebrated at the idea of having two Six Eyes users under the same house was a good thing

the both of you trained together throughout your younger years, with satoru becoming super overprotective even though you were twins - he understood from a young age that the both of you were starting at different levels of footing because of your gender

yes, you are a girl - but at 7 years old you had exorcise a Grade-Two Curse by yourself with no more than an annoyed click of your tongue and a snap of your fingers, walking away whilst whining about how it got your favourite dress dirty

with that being said though, he loves to tease you are still the younger one between the both of you, and had teased you about how you should refer to him as ‘onii-chan’ instead of his first name

“come on, Y/N~ it’s a sign of respect~”

“i am going to spend you to outer space one of these days.”

the two of you were already known about the jujutsu world way before you even became old enough to enroll in Tokyo Metropolitan Curse Technical College - you two were even allowed to enter without an interview with the then principal of the school

who would want to waste their time interviewing two highly over qualified teenagers anyway?

the first time you met geto and shoko, they were both intimidated by your sheer presence. the both of them have heard talks about the gojo twins entering their year as a pair

so when they had first met you, standing there in your uniform with your bright blue eyes hiding behind a pair of blacked out sunglasses and an indifferent look on your face - they definitely felt a shiver go through their bodies

however, when they saw your twin brother appearing behind you with the biggest grin, hugging you from behind whilst you scowled and tried to push his head away - they were definitely less intimidated now

“now, now, Y/N-chan, stop being so scary~”

“nii-chan, i am giving you three seconds to let go of me.”

the two of you quite the duo, especially when you two are always pinned against one another with more difficult and more challenging missions compared to when you were under the care of the gojo clan

geto felt less pressure to match up to his friend, since satoru and Y/N are always at each other’s throat - wanting to outmatch the other and one up the other with silly things like Curse head counts and how difficult its level is

with that being said, satoru is very protective of you - if any so much as speaks poorly of you, he would not hesitate to put them in their place

“oya? what makes you think you can speak of my baby sister like that?” satoru had hummed towards the small group of men, who were commenting on how beautiful the young woman was followed by a lot of unsavoury comments.

satoru still sported his casual smile, yet there was a certain air around him that made them shut their mouths up real fast. “mind repeating that? just want to make sure that i have a good enough reason to put your lazy asses six feet underground..”

after that specific incident by the way, satoru had you and your friends out on a little excursion around tokyo - where they just did a bunch of stupid things together to calm down

you can read him like the back of a book though, so when both of your friends went away to browse through some shelves in a video game store, you just wrapped your arms around your brother with a smile. “you know, nii-chan, you don’t need to go about protect my honour. i’m a big girl now.”

he’d just blink down at you before giving you a soft but genuine smile, petting the top of your head with one of his hand while the other was resting inside of his pocket. “if i don’t protect you, who am i going to protect?”

that statement was proven during your second year - a cursed user had overpowered you and shoko and had taken the both of you hostage. the curse user had practically beaten you into a pulp, knowing that you were the stronger one between the two

shoko had been tied up and beaten as well, but you were definitely taking the brunt of his anger - along with being forced to listen about how he was going to sell you to some low life family that had been trying to get you to marry their sorry excuse of a son.

you don’t even remember meeting the father of the boy, who had claimed to visit the gojo clan home a few times now

“you gonna be a good girl for me?” the man had gripped as he gripped your hair in his hands, giving you a smirk whilst you scowled over at him in annoyance, blinking the blood out of your eyes from the wound on the top of your head.

before you can give another snarky answer in reply that will get you another beating, the sound of someone kicking the door in. before either one of you can move, the man suddenly let go of your hair with a pained gasp as someone grabbed his hair and forced his head back, looking up into a pair of glowing blue eyes

“get your filthy hands off my baby sister.”

geto was in charge of taking care of the both of you, leaving the room with a simple reminder to satoru that they needed to bring the man back alive

both of you spending most of your time trying to unlock the many secrets of the Limitless, and how to control it better

during the entire star plasma vessel fiasco, you had stayed by geto’s side. and while you didn’t manage to save rika from being murdered, you had, like gojo, managed to touch the core of cursed energy

toji had ‘killed you’ before he went after geto, yet like satoru, he did not decapitate your head; so you had slowly started to use the reverse curse technique to heal your wounds

so you couldn’t believe satoru’s belief when he found you using reverse cursed technique to heal geto, wrapping you up in his arms while you just smile and hold him as well

the three of you plus shoko had turned to one another for comfort, because along the way you four have grown close to the young girl, and her death really affected all of you

but if there is something bright that came out from this, is that you and your brother had really elevated yourselves to become the strongest duo of the new generation - both pretty much an entire chest above the current active sorcerers

after satoru had calmed down, he had told you about what toji had said to him before his death - about how he has a son that he had planned to sell of to the zen’ins

the two of you went to visit the young boy, discovering that he had an older sister as well; and without hesitation you had taken the both of them under your wing, pulling a few strings behind the scenes while also trying to provide him with as normal as a life as you two could

megumi had viewed you as a mother figure, someone who looked out for him and tsumiki, teaching the two of them life skills like sewing and cooking, making sure they always have warm meals.

you never miss their birthdays either - always making sure to get them either a cake or a small cupcake with a candle on the top to blow out just for the sake of tradition

sure, satoru loves to spoil them too, but he acted more like their chilled older brother - he definitely relies on you more as a parental figure he had lacked for quite a huge part of his childhood

he had remembered how once, when you had made him his favourite curry and rice after a long week, he just sighed and said, “thanks mum,” before he started to eat his meal

at first you froze in shock, and megumi did too - but before the blushing teen can apologise, you had already wrapped him up in your arms as you just cried your heart out

satoru had teasingly asked him if megumi can call him ‘dad’, to which megumi just scowled and sent his divine dogs after your brother

satoru loves to introduce you two as the ‘strongest duo’ by the way - which makes you super awkward and you hate it with a passion. he wasn’t wrong, but it’s still awkward

“we’re the Gojos - the strongest duo out there.”

“please stop calling us that.”

feel like because you’re there, geto might still be on the path to the light lmao - like mans will be a teacher in school and you three will be dub the ‘idiot trinity’ or some bullshit nickname lol - the three biggest troublemakers in the jujutsu world

yet the three most capable ones as well - absolutely drive the higher ups of the jujutsu world insane

with that being said though - the three of you definitely hashed a plan to change the jujutsu world together. even shoko agrees that there should be some change to the old ways of the jujutsu world; so the four of you decided to sign up to work as teachers at Jujutsu High

the first group of students you took under your wing was the then first years - maki, toge, panda, and eventually yuta when he joined your little class

you are the mother for the students while geto is the responsible dad; satoru is the crazy uncle that is not allowed to supervise the students alone, and shoko is the cool aunt who lets you skip class in her office if you want

all the students have, at one point, just referred to you as ‘mum’ and you had always just accepted that with a soft smile and a pat on the top of their head

even if they are taller than you, they will willingly bend down to your height so you can pet them on the head - even megumi lets you get away with it

when itadori and nobara came into the picture, you had taken them un as your own as well - but you did spend a good 5 minutes laughing with geto at the idea that yuji manages to control sukuna like he is just an annoying imaginary friend in the back of his head that refuses to shut up

you had tried to give them some form of normality and comforts as teenagers, even if many times they were forced into very uncomfortable situations

all in all - it was utter chaos the moment both you and satoru were born. yet it was a miracle nonetheless. many times you prove to the world that your bond is stronger than people think it is, and that you two will go through anything to make sure the other is safe.

you are the younger one, but the more responsible one too. the motherly figure that everyone turned to, even your friends and brother, who needs comfort and a warm meal. yet if provoked, you can become deadly and kill with no hesitation. it’s because of this, both you and your brother are considered as quite the deadly duo; the strongest ones around.

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the-void-writes · 2 years

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Hi Dante and Will ❤️😏 Would you please answer for the following ones: 5, 8, 11, 12, 14, 16, 24. Have fun hehe! ❤️

@tryingtimi Thank you so much! 😊

Tagging @bloodlessheirbyjacques because Dante antics 😅

Answers under cut because they got long 😅

What is your favorite thing to do in your free time?

W: “Dancing to music.” He chuckles. “I’m not good at it, at all, but it’s fun to just slide around for a bit.”

D: He smirks, and Will immediately covers his mouth.

“Do not say what I think you’re gonna say.”

“They asked for my favorite thing.”

“Keep it PG, Dante.”

“Okay, fine.” He thinks for a bit. “I actually enjoy reading— Well, listening to Will read, especially outside in the afternoon. Sometimes, it’s nice to not have constant parties around you.”

What do you think had the biggest impact on you growing up?

W: “My fathers…” He smiles sadly. “My real fathers. They made me who I am.”

D: He takes Will’s hand and squeezes it before answering. “When my dad was still around, we used to watch all sorts of protests. People fighting for freedom, love, all that stuff. Their words made me think I could really change things.” He smiles. “And I did, in a way.”

What is your favorite type of media (TV, movie, books, etc)? Name some specific favorites (which shows, movies, books, etc do you like)!

(My brain is too fizzled to come up with names for the different media in their world, so I’ll just stick to actual properties)

W: “Don’t laugh, but I love musicals. Phantom of the Opera is my favorite.”

D: “Sci-fi is all I ever watched as a kid. Lots of Star Wars and Planet of the Apes.”

If you could go anywhere in the world, where would it be? (on vacation or permanently!)

W: “I’m still holding out for the Smithsonian. Or even just outer-space itself.”

D: “I’ve always wanted to go to Rome, actually. The architecture just speaks to me.”

What are your favorite music genres?

W: “I could go for just about anything. Alternative rock is just what I grew up with. Dante and I do share a fondness for Queen, though.”

D: “Rock and roll, baby, that’s where it’s at. But there’s some stuff from later years that sounds pretty good.”

Describe your perfect day.

W: “You can’t beat a good nap by the stream and warm soup for dinner.”

D: “Sleeping in with the love of my life. Maybe we’ll head out for lunch, but we’ll come right back and just watch old movies all day.”

What would you consider your main love language?

W: “Acts of service, definitely. Call it a by-product of needing to prove my worth to the town, but I love doing things for people. It’s also nice to just stop and tell them how much they mean to me.”D: “Touch, all the way. There’s something comforting about playing with someone’s hair, letting them know you love them without having to stumble over your words.” He grinned. “It’s a good thing I found the most touch-starved guy in Paradise.”

#writeblr #ask games

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softpromise · 3 years

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Softie, hello! May I request Link & Zelda star gazing & perhaps revealing some feelings… 😭💕

omg YES you most certainly can!!! if you want a soundtrack for this please listen to "picture me better" by weyes blood, because i did on repeat while i was writing it hehe

~1150 words (and i hope you will love every single one of them)

“So it doesn’t seem like there’s much of a difference, then.”

“Yeah, not really! A lot of people assume there would be, but honestly, the stars are so far away anyway that…”

He peeked at her from the corner of his eye, only half listening. She’d caught him ‘daydreaming’, as she called it, plenty of times; she joked that even on the Surface, his head was always up in Skyloft’s clouds.

She wasn’t wrong about the daydreaming part, though. When he was around her, it was hard not to dream of a secret meaning behind the smile he liked to think she reserved just for him, or maybe intention behind unintentional brushes of their hands. Like right now, her shoulder was touching his, and he couldn’t help but hope that maybe, just maybe, she couldn’t help but touch him.

“Hellooo, Surface to Link! Did you even hear a word I just said?”

“Huh? Oh, um…” His eyes shot up to the sky. Its navy-blue velvet glittered with stars. No matter how many times she explained that they were hot gas, ‘lightyears’ away (whatever that meant), he was pretty sure they actually came from her eyes. They must’ve been rejected, though, because the sparkles in her eyes easily outshone those in the sky. “I did, but can you say it again? Just so I can be sure I heard you right?”

“I said I must be an idiot for trying to explain anything to you when your head’s clearly in outer space,” she grumbled. “Which is funny, because if it really was, then you’d know all this stuff better than I do!”

He knew she was frustrated. She always got frustrated when he zoned out like this. But seeing her furrowed brows and her pouting lip, he was helpless. It started as a snort, then bubbled up into snickering. And it may have stopped there, but she stared daggers at him from the corner of her eye, and before he knew it, he was all out laughing.

“Yeah, go ahead and laugh, tough guy! Get it all out! And when you’re done, you can come find me, because I’m not just gonna sit here and let you laugh in my face!” She moved to get up, and he crossed his arms behind his head.

“You going to go explore the forest? At night? By yourself?” He raised a brow at her, and he saw her shoulders tense.

“So what if I am?”

“Oh, nothing. I’m sure you can handle the Bokoblins on your own.”

He could see her jaw working as she thought it over.

“Maybe I’ll give you a second chance,” she said flippantly, settling on the blanket again. “But just because I’m worried about you being out here alone.”

“Yeah, of course,” he said, grinning. “I’m lucky to have such a considerate friend.”

“Yes, you are, and don’t you forget it!”

They were quiet for a few minutes. She was probably still glowering, but he was happy to bask in the heat of it. Even when she was cranky she was his favorite.

“Sooo… do you see that one?” Zelda said finally, pointing up at the sky.

“Hm? Which one?” He tried to follow the direction of her index finger, but he wasn’t sure which constellation she was pointing at.

“That one, with the bright star on the top.” She jabbed her finger at the sky. He glanced at her and found her looking at him expectantly.

“I… I’m not sure which one you mean.” He looked back up towards the stars, his cheeks reddening. “M-maybe if you got a little closer…”

She scooted closer to him on the blanket, close enough that he could feel the warmth radiating from her body. They’d been close to each other like this before, but usually on accident. Even then, it always made his heart race. But now he was asking her to come closer, which he thought he was stupid for doing, but then she did, and now he had no idea how to act.

“That one,” she said again. He swallowed.

“Um… a little closer, maybe,” he said. What was he doing?! He thanked the Goddess that his voice didn’t crack, thanked Her that it was dark out so Zelda couldn’t see his blush, thanked Her that Zelda didn’t call him out for how weird he was being.

“Oh my gods, Link, really!” She scooted even closer, propping herself up on her elbow, leaning over him. Her arm probably followed the line of his sight almost perfectly, but it didn’t matter; he couldn’t see at all.

Because her hair was in his face. Her soft, golden locks, fragranced with soap and some kind of floral oil and a warmth that could only be Zelda’s, were covering his face. He tried not to inhale but it was pointless—he needed to breathe, and with her hair in the way, it was all he could smell. Not that he minded.

But even without her hair in the way, he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to see the sky, anyway. He was way too overwhelmed by the pressure of her on top of him; and the way she was positioned, he was sure her face was only inches from his, close enough that if not for her hair, he could probably even—

“Shoot, sorry!” She brushed her hair from his face and when her green eyes landed on his, they widened. She blinked. “Sorry,” she said again, her voice a bit less sure now.

“I… I don’t mind,” he said quietly, his heart thudding in his ears loudly enough that he wasn’t sure if he spoke at all. But her cheeks turned pink, pink enough that even in the dark he could see it, and he waited for her to say something, anything, to release him from this silence.

“Oh,” she said. He couldn’t tell if it was a good ‘oh’ or a bad ‘oh’.

“I kinda even like it,” he said, his voice hardly louder than a whisper now. “Well, not just ‘kinda’. I really like it. I… I really… like you.”

“Oh,” she said again. “You… Oh.”

“So, um…” He swallowed. “Do… do you? Like it?”

“I…” She was still staring into his eyes, and his stomach was twisting in knots.

“Okay, that’s fine, f-forget I said anything,” he said. “Which c-constel—”

Something warm and soft eclipsed his mouth before he could finish his question, and his eyes fluttered closed. All he could feel was her; her lips, her hair, her warmth, her hand on his cheek, her back under his palm, her cheekbone against his thumb, her breath on his face when she finally pulled away…

“I do,” she breathed. “Like it. Like you.”

And after that, very few words were exchanged, because they were both too shy to say anything. And besides, he could say more with another brush of his lips than he ever could with words, anyway.

#zelink #zelda #link #skyward sword #legend of zelda #story prompt #mine #softie writes

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steve0discusses · 3 years

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S5 Ep 15 Pt 2: Don’t Trust Anyone Who Wears a Floor Length Robe Over Their Casuals in Yugioh

Hey, it’s my birthday, so I’m gonna release this early because the rest of today I just have to work like an adult and that’s no fun.

In the first half of this episode we dunked the worlds smallest plane into a lake and so this second half of the episode involved the kids running as far away from their only responsible adults as they could.

Which like...took whole of less than a second for them to peace out and enter mortal danger.

...I’ve never been in a jungle in India but...I have seen the Jungle book many times...and there’s like tigers and stuff in there, right? and tons of monkeys that are hella mean? And freakin snakes? They sing jazz and scat? That’s some terrifying stuff.

Like these city kids have to learn at some point to fear the woods. But they just freakin don’t. And strangely, the most dangerous thing in these woods isn’t even a snake or something, but a human man just being as suspicious as possible lying prone on the ground.

(read more under the cut)

The card cultist happens to have a British accent, because this voice acting team freakin loves to pull out their British accents. It’s not as lowbrow as Valon, but it’s not as...well whatever Bakura is supposed to be. He’s a lot more tame than Bakura’s, but still very British.

I don’t know if this is because British English tends to be taught instead of American sounding English in many parts of India, but, most likely they just wanted to do an accent. And like...he’s an archeologist...and so the stereotype is there...but honestly, the decision of making this guy British gets weirder and weirder as this episode goes on, get ready for it. None of you are ready for what I assume is the very obvious plot twist of this freakin guy.

Catfish of the century, this freakin guy, I’m pretty sure.

Yugi immediately believes this completely out of place white British stranger in the Indian backwoods next to this inaccessible lake and immediately thinks “yes, my Grandfather crash landed in India EXACTLY where I’m standing right now, and now I must save him.”

Thankfully, Yami exists to gently and politely tell Yugi to hella stop.

Also, I like that Yugi has finally stopped wearing his school outfit out of school. But, he is instead wearing a jacket that is so close to his school outfit I honestly couldn’t tell until the end of this episode. It’s like...I think one shade more purple, it has white piping, and his undershirt has a center seam. It’s nice Yugi has 3 versions of the same black sleeveless undershirt, and this show cares enough to show that tiny factoid about Yugi’s closet.

So, because Yugi is a dumbass and Pharaoh has to just sit back and watch this happen so he can say “told you so” later, they follow this random cultist they found in the woods. Much like Hansel and Gretel, we snack on cake crumbs all the way to the witches house, which in this case, is an undiscovered monolith you would have easily seen from outer space.

HMMMMMMMMMM.

And so get ready for this:

Hey guys.

Remember how Alexander the great was buried in a pyramid?

Now because they’re name dropping Alexander, that’s actually kind of helpful, because Alexander the Great’s favorite damn horse in the entire world died while he was at war with India so he named a city after it. It’s believed to be in Punjab, which is in the Northern part of India

Which means we first of all, definitely crossed the tallest mountain range in the world to get here, and also means that we are like...in some really disputed territory of India right now, and it is crazy that these kids went here for a vacation completely unsupervised.

Another fun fact about Alexander is that when he died, it took 6 days for his body to decompose. At the time, they thought it was because he was a God (or in Yugioh’s case, Extremely Cursed) but nowadays historians think it’s because it took him 6 days to fully die. He just wasn’t dead yet. Had to give it a minute and the ancient Babylonians just got way too excited.

Anyway, Alexander super died in Babylon so I don’t know what the hell he’s doing in India. There is a fun spot in History where his body did get dragged to a couple different places, meaning we probably did lose the original Alexander and there’s a lot of people just guessing at where he ended up...but putting him clear up in India sure was a choice when one of his assumed burial sites was literally Egypt, which would be a more fitting location for a Pyramid and a more fitting location for this show.

Especially since Alexander was trying to invent a new race and culture...it seems a little strange he’d be buried in such a massive pyramid, but maybe he got a really, really good pyramid deal from the funeral home when he was like 28 and just figured he’d change it before the time he died at 32.

Which...now that I’m older than 32, how crazy is it that Alexander the Great died at freakin 32? You blink twice and you’re 32. Is history seriously trying to tell me this guy wasn’t like secretly 62? That maybe he just celebrated his 20th for like 20 years in a row as a royal mandate? I just feel like history is playing pranks on me with Alexander.

Anyway, our weird shady new archeologist guy is named Alex and so take that as you will.

I sure hope Alexander the Great was revived to wear khakis and bother children. Guy conquered the world once and was one of history’s Freakin Worst so he does deserve it, but also...it would explain why he thinks it’s normal to wear a Darth Maul robe over your business casual.

Anyway, lets enter the obvious trap pyramid.

Joey just wanted a nice time running around Northern India. He just wanted to eat some yummy chaat and look at some tourist destinations and maybe glance at a Bollywood star or two. But instead he’s gotta deal with spike floors because Yugi couldn’t say no to a cultist.

Also...one of those spikes clearly went through Tea’s feet, right? And she is absolutely fine? Just checking on Tea’s godlike strength and clearly it is still godlike.

Alex gives us a very long explanation of how he went upstairs and Grandpa went downstairs, and there was a door or something so Alex turned back around and Grandpa was gone.

All of those steps were probably plot relevant and I’ll probably forget all about it in 2 episodes.

The thing is Alex...literally thinks he evaporated. Literally thinks that. But how do you disprove it to this freakin guy who like...might have named a city after his horse once and thinks that’s a normal and acceptable thing to do?

and so Joey immediately leaps onto the haunted playing floor.

the way Yugi said this line was sort of hilarious to me so I may cap it. If I remember to do it (I’ve been a little busier lately, with things opening up, as you can tell because my update schedule is in the toilet.)

So, if Joey jumps in...everyone else has to, also.

And we say good bye to Alex and enter the new forest zone, which looks a LOT like the other forest we were just in.

Nice Protoss armor.

We get some hijinks from the local wildlife, which are all cards but real (but not real because we’re in a board game...don’t think about it) and the off brand Sheikah tablets have helpful monsters in them if you touch em.

This season may have been better off as a video game, being honest.

Joey has gone somewhere else, despite going onto the same game tile, and he’s too busy on a mountain range to really help anyone out. So he’s just gonna vibe up here for a bit.

Tea got up after this point and said along the lines of “k, what’s next?” Because mortal danger does not affect her and she fears nothing.

At a beach somewhere, Tea and Tristan spend some quality time together forming a new family with whatever these creatures are.

And Tea’s love of her winged angel comes full circle and now I will suffer this winged orb for the rest of this arc, pretty sure.

Please admire the number of belts on Tea. Her outfit is like max 00′s and I appreciate that. We’ve had a lot of questionable fashion on Yugioh, but they actually dressed Tea pretty on point this arc. Like I often feel like 00′s fashion is hard to define or describe, but it’s Tea right now. That’s it. She did it, it’s right there.

Yugi gets a new flagship card for this arc, and this time it’s Celtic Guardian. Hell why? I feel like his defining card changes every single arc, and they need to like focus and just give him one. In fact, I’m pretty sure it’s still Dark Magician...and maybe the show forgot?

Anyway, if you just got here, this is a link to read the rest:

https://steve0discusses.tumblr.com/tagged/yugioh/chrono

I think I forgot that link in the last recap because yo it’s kind of been a while since I’ve updated, I feel. (well I had a graveyard post and those don’t count really) But, we’re back, we’re still going, slowly but surely.

#YGO #yugioh #Yu gi oh #episode recap #photo recap #S5 #Ep16 #yugi muto #yami #capsule monsters #tea gardner #tristan taylor #Joey Wheeler #Alex Brisbane #Alexander the freakin great #and a pyramid in the middle of Northern India #And lets just make it an isekai for kicks

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boogiewrites · 4 years

Text

Burning Star

Chapter 1

Characters: Din Djarin/The Mandalorian / Reader / You

Summary: Din Djarin is a long-time associate and friend. When faced with the truth about the creed he's taken, doubts begin to grow in his mind about his choices. He comes to you, looking for a confidant and he finds more than he bargained for. Begins latter part of S2, porn with plot. A growing romance between two characters that thought of themselves as solitary creatures now wanting to no longer be alone. But with The Mandalorian being who he is, things can never be so simple.

Warnings/Tags: Sexual Content. Dry humping. Confessions of feelings. Hurt/Comfort. Touch Starved.

Click on my icon then go to my Mobile Masterlist in my bio for my other works and chapters. (Had to do this since Tumblr killed links, sorry.) Please like, comment and reblog if you enjoyed it! It helps out us writers A LOT!

You couldn’t recall the exact BBY you’d met The Mandalorian. But then again, you weren’t even sure of your birth year, so dates tended to blend into one another in your memory. You recalled every encounter though, every mission he’d asked you to assist him on, the times you’d healed him and his ship, and especially the time he’d come to your planet for refuge with a strange but endearing little green creature. Your small, backwater planet didn’t have much. But that was one of the main things that had drawn you to it. Your parents were nomads, and you’d adopted the same after their death. So you made yourself a home on a green little planet after years of travel. It homed tiny hubs for weary travelers dotted along with the mountainous surface. But the one they called Mando always came to yours.

You had entertained the idea of becoming a Mandalorian after your parent’s death. They were prospectors, planet-hopping and hoping to make a fortune. On one expedition the Imperials decided the planet you and hundreds of others were on was now theirs for the resources. If you want to call it luck, you did live. You were taken in by an orphanage, one of many overrun with children just like you. You were full of anger and hurt and wanted revenge.

You were caught one night, trying to leave, and a woman fatefully saw you and brought you back in, having the first real heart to heart you’d had in your life. With tears in your eyes, you said you wanted the people who killed your parents, dead. You didn’t see this as unreasonable and you still didn't truthfully. You had read about The Mandalorians and were going to join them you’d told her. You were going to learn to fight and be a warrior and take your revenge. Young and full of rage, this was the only thing that made sense. But this woman, who had been watching you knew better than you did. She saw your softness, that capacity for love and sensitivity, and stopped you.

“Do not let their hate make you hard. It’s what they want. You will act recklessly and in their interests with hate in your heart. The only way to defeat evil is with kindness and love.”

It didn’t make sense at the time and when you were in a heated mood you liked to act like it still didn’t. But she was right.

You had previously spent your days reading and learning, drawing the various landscapes your parents took you too and trying to befriend the local fauna. You were a curious child that grew into a curious adult and you had fought hard to keep that sensitivity the woman told you of. So far, it had served you well.

This didn’t mean you didn’t fight. You had to to survive, but when the opportunity for kindness arose you always gave the other being a chance. But if they betrayed that trust you killed them. It seemed fair when it all came down to it. Philosophically speaking, anyway.

You had settled a store for supplies on a long-abandoned mining planet where a nearly extinct mutated species of Nexu lived in the caves under the planet’s surface. You’d protected them for generations now and they trusted you. But they were deadly to anyone else. There were rumors of the mines not being empty, of treasures left behind because they were too tricky to extract. You knew this wasn’t true. You and your toothy, furry associates had explored every bit of the caves that you could find. But that didn’t stop the desperate from trying. This was unfortunately the root of most of the violence in your life. At least you were protecting others in the meantime.

Maybe that’s what drew your Mandalorian to you. He had taken one way, The Way, and you had taken another. You saw in each other what you could have been. He’d given in to his anger and rage when he was young, and you had learned to see past yours. You had the empathy that came from years of self-reflection and control. You had taken different paths, and you both found what was missing in each other. You had the excitement of helping him on quarry hunts on a handful of occasions and he could hide and mend when needed. It was a balance, much like the force you’d read about, and it fell into place without much effort.

Wasn’t it the way that days that began like any other would lead to things you’d never expected? This day was no different. You had previously been most excited about the stew you’d been brewing for the second day, taking your sweet time with an old recipe you’d found in one of the books one of your neighbors had given you. The term neighbor is used loosely as it would be a day's walk, at the least, to the closest person.

The excitement sparked inside your chest as you went out to greet whoever happened to be landing in the field by your settlement. Then you saw the relic hovering above the broken blades of grass. You hadn’t seen a Razor Crest since his and it was easy to know who was going to come off the ramp when it happened upon your humble patch of the planet. You shield your eyes from the burning sun, close this time of the year as the glint off his Beskar armor sends a shock to your eyes.

It was a relief to see you, he thought. Something familiar, consistent, and warm to come back to after the turbulent journey he’d found himself on with the child.

“Hey, stranger!”You call out loudly, waiting for him to be closer so you didn’t have to shout and scare the foul in the surrounding trees. “I know it’s not repairs bringing you in. Your ship is shining like the Bright Star it’s in such good condition. You been on a vacation or something?”

He knew you were joking, his eyes relaxing under his helmet even though you couldn’t see. “Just got back.” his voice hits your ears, the gritty muffle of mechanical filter making it feel remote. You let him approach you, before reaching to hug him. It was something he’d had to get used to, and something you insisted on. After growing close during your time spent on his ship, the trauma bonding of violence and high stakes forced intimacy between two otherwise solitary creatures. For as long as you spent apart, the time picked up where it started when you came back together. Almost dying is hard work, and saving another from it tends to fasten the bond between people with surprising speed.

You had never shied away from him, he’d never given you a reason to. You approached life with an open heart and only shut it to protect yourself when needed. The contact felt soothing despite his hard outer layers. Both physical and figurative. A wrap of strong arms around his helmet, the weight of someone against him, a slight tug down from the height difference. It all felt very sincere, very human to him. At the moment that’s all he was certain about. The helmet hid the troubled eyes that would’ve given him away, and he found himself thankful for it.

“Always good to see you, Manny.” you give him a good squeeze, a kiss to the helmet that you polish out, cooing up at him with attentiveness. You’d refused to call him Mando any longer after one particularly heinous mission. Calling him something everyone else did, something so generic, didn’t fit. So a pet name it was. He’d never had one before. He secretly preferred it. “This Beskar keeping you safe?” you ask, buffing the spot with your sleeve and then patting his chest plate.

“Yes.” he nods. “Except for all the people trying to kill me for it.” You laugh and pat his hard head.

“Can’t blame them. Stylish... strong... beautiful. Just like you, huh?” you give him a wrinkled nose snort and you hear the grunt of amusement and note the subtle nod.

“What I’m best known for. My looks.”

He spoke with such a monotone delivery that his jokes might’ve not landed to someone more fearful and not as knowledgeable of the Mandalorian's personality under all that flash. “Where’s your little guy?”

No sooner than the words were out of your mouth than a gurgle and chirp from a perfectly him sized sack hanging off his shoulders appeared the little green wrinkly friend. “Always close by. Except when I tell him to be. Then he prefers to wander.”

“This goo ball wouldn’t be bad would you?” he tilts his oversized ears and blinks at his father figure as if he’d brutally insulted him. “Never.” you coo and give him little rubs under his jowls. His eyes shut and he happily soaks up the affection. “C’mon. Let's get inside. I bet you’re hungry.”

“He’s always hungry.” a slightly disgruntled Mando grumbles behind you.

“Sounds like you need to eat too.” you retort, hears his heavy footsteps behind you as you enter the humble building you’d built. It was made from the trees that used to fill the little clearing where the landing pad and accommodations were now. They grew fat and had many low, heavy limbs, perfect for construction. The floor was wooden, the walls a mixture of found metal, clay, and beams, same as the roof which made a lovely sound when it rained and kept the harsh seasons out. Dried flowers and herbs hung from low rafters, all part of the long list of things you did to keep yourself busy. You loved making, and your space reflected that. Despite it not being used by anyone but yourself that often, you kept it clean. Shelves and bins as you entered, a small counter for business off the side, a few small tables and chairs on the other side of the large square space with a small kitchen and refresher through doors on the far wall. It wasn’t much, but you’d made it all and it’d served its purpose thus far.

You sit the child down on a table with a cushion in it, letting his round head reach just over the tabletop. He reaches for the flowers in a bottle while you speak and Mando keeps the child's hand from breaking anything.

“Here you go. Been simmering for two days. Broth, meat, and some herbs and veg from the garden. Doesn’t get better than that little one.” You hand him a tiny spoon you’d carved for his equally tiny hands and he makes a confused sound.

“She made that for you, remember? Be nice, use your manners.” he motions towards it with a nod. You watch the child struggle for a moment before giving up and raise the small bowl.

“That works too.” you grin. “You want some? You could get the broth through that absorption accessory I made you.”

“It was destroyed during a mission recently.”

“Ah.” you nod and purse your lips. “I think I have parts to make another.”

He was used to paying for things being made for him. But you and your hobby of tinkering in a little bit of everything had led to a few things that were one of a kind. You’d made a long device that could fit under his helmet to allow liquids to be consumed without removing his helmet. He thought it was thoughtful but it was purely selfish as you were tired of him not eating your food. Before, you had bartered to eat together in separate rooms so you could get feedback. He wasn’t very good at it. Eating to live was his main purpose of doing it at all, not like you that lived to eat.

“Thank you.” is his quiet reply. There’s an easy silence watching the child burp and gulp and making a mess of himself in the process.

“What brings you in this time? You need me to open up the hut? I’ve still got fuel.”

“I’ll refuel before I leave.” You were used to his pauses, but something felt different, you could feel the consideration for his words churning in the silence. “I came to speak to you about something.”

“I can’t tell if this is good or bad.”

“I’m not sure myself.”

Your brow furrows and you lean across the table to engage him. “In trouble again?”

He is still and quiet for another beat. “I found other Mandalorians.”

Your eyes grow wide, “Oh.” you process the information, your surprise clear on your face, you had never been good at keeping control of your expressions. “Is that... not good?”

“We found a common ground and helped each other. But I feel as if I have more questions than I did before. I was so certain before of my standing within the Mandalore creed. I was raised by it, swore to it. And now...”

“What happened Manny?” you reach across and put your hand over his, the child coos at the action. The child could feel emotions, pick up on non-verbal things others couldn’t, and he knew when you were around, his protector was much happier.

“I come from a segment of Mandalorians that broke away from society. They have very different views of The Way. They told me I belonged to a cult of religious zealots.”

“Wow. They didn’t sugar coat that at all did they?” you pat his hand and try to not come off as condescending about it.

“I was not aware of this. This… difference.” you give him a sympathetic smile even though you aren’t sure if he’s looking at your face.

“What do you mean differences?”

“As soon as I met them they removed their helmets.”

“Oh well, yeah that would…” you nod, “That’s a big difference.”

“Have you read about the Children of the Watch? I know you were fond of reading of Mandalore as a child.” he asks with a touch of warmth to his words, as if it made him proud to say it about you.

‘A bit yes. There’s not much about them out there. They’re very strict and secretive. They didn’t want the progressive Mandalorians corrupting what they saw as the true Way. You all believe in being warriors and protecting what’s yours. The helmet thing seems to be the biggest deal.”

“It’s given me… concerning thoughts.”

“Do you mind if I give my opinion on it?”

“That’s what I came for.” his words made you feel special, like you mattered. They didn’t have the tainted burn of someone that wanted to use you or what you for their gain. He came to you to talk. You were flattered.

You turn your body to face his direction, both hands on top of his large, still armored one that he stared at for a moment while you spoke. Watching your hand's flowery movements to accompany your points broke his concentration on them. “I believe this equates to my discovery that I’m not human.”

His attention is grabbed, head swinging up and the child taking notice.

“I am mostly, but I have Cathar in my bloodline....”

It made sense, he thought, he pieced things together, your angled golden eyes, the large swell of hair you styled in various ways, sometimes wild and free and sometimes braided for more function when fighting. Your nails were long and sharp, your teeth a bit pointed as well, he’d never noticed if you could retract them, he thought you’d styled them in that way. Most importantly he could see the strength your ancestors had instilled in you. Even now. You were fierce, proud, loyal, and passionate. It explained your quick temper for those who harmed others for their selfish benefit. If someone had only glanced at you, human would be the general assumption. But if someone took the time to know you as he had, it was easy to believe there was something else in your blood.

“I grew up with what I assumed were humans, but I’ll never know that now. I could’ve been a foundling for all I know. So I had this loyalty to them, what I thought was a bond, a call to be a part of that. But once I came of age and... things started to appear a bit more complicated I went to someone to see what was wrong with me. Turns out nothing, I’m just not human.” you chuckle and shrug, recalling your awkward memories. “I was then left with the questioning of where my loyalty lies. Who was I? Was I Cathar enough to call myself that? Was I human enough to remain within that species, to live and love and fight with them? I was missing such a large portion of who I was, in my blood, I was someone I’d never known. I had so many things I might’ve missed out on you know? Hunting, hierarchies, mating, having family, a pride. We were known for litters, did I have siblings?” you sigh and you feel the sadness well up as it always did when you ponder the unknowns of your existence. “I digress… what I have concluded, and you may take into consideration is that you are in fact, both. Neither is more or less important. They are born of the same thing, they were once one single unit and all future and past components of Manda. You have your war gods, so do they. You have your morals, your duties, your... Way. Even if you were not a Child of the Watch, if you broke those creeds they specified, you are still a Mandalorian. You are not what you speak after all, you are your actions. Both sects believe neither to be a part of the other, but yet they helped you? You help your fellow Mandalorian. It is only a title, The Way is beyond titles, Manny, you know this.”

“I did not know that about you.” was his response.

“There’s far more we don’t know about our fellow man than we do know.” you smile at him and pat his hand. “You are usually quiet and prefer not to discuss frivolous matters. So I don’t bother you with trivia about myself.”

“I don’t believe that you or your beliefs are frivolous.” He pauses a moment, looking at your hand before placing his on top of yours. Both of his now tentatively trying to comfort yours. He didn’t show physical affection, it wasn’t natural to him. You took notice but kept your eyes on the way his hand gently stroked your own as he tried to elaborate the best he could. “You are... very well-read. An… admirable warrior of high morals. Your ideas have helped me with this. I still have concerns...questions. But for the first time since I learned this I feel… better understood.” You could almost feel the pain of him pulling those words out himself to give to another. This wasn’t his strong suit and you knew it. Was it some of the most endearing conversation you’d ever shared? Yes. Did it make your chest ache just slightly with the sweetness he was presenting even though his eyes were hidden? Also yes. He must be hurting, truly upset, and overwhelmed to try to share the burden of it with someone else.

You look back up to him and hold his hands tightly. “You’re very welcome.” you share a connected moment, eyes to the dark void of his visor as your hands move softly and slowly within the others’. “Would you prefer to continue talking about it? Or would you rather us take one of our walks? I think a break might help clear your head.”

“I think you're right .”

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You took the opportunity to carry about the child, stopping to let him feel leaves and touch branches, pinching tiny bites of native fruit for him to experience. It was lovely, the scenery and the company. You kept the conversation light, talking about the books you'd read, the things you’d made, how the local Nexu’s were doing, and what the former guests had been up to. He’d met many of the foundlings that had eventually found their way to you. They had been in the same orphanage as you had. He’d scared most of them, and you couldn’t blame them, but he had always asked how they were when you spoke regardless. The child to him was the first foundling he’d taken in, lived with, cared for, and protected. You had helped with the younger children at the orphanage as you grew up and had taken in a handful over the years. And as children did, they would leave once they felt they were ready or the itch to be free came. You were concerned about how your Mando would take losing his little guy. You could tell they had a strong connection. You walked back both holding one of the outstretched arms of the very slow child, you could see how it was easy to be swept up by the little creature.

You had him care for the child, readying him for bed and getting what was needed out of his ship before locking it down and coming into the small clay and brick temporary home next to yours. It was modest, like yours, built from the clay in the hills you’d gathered yourself and decorated with various stones and tile. It was more than enough compared to what he was used to. A small room for the child to sleep, tucked away safe and cozy and you once again held the father figure and wished him a goodnight up against the cool metal of his helmet. He thanks you for your help, as he always does.

You tell him not to mention it, he’d do the same for you, as you always did. The parting goodbyes were always rather special and tender to you. He would tell you he hoped you found yourself in the favor of the maker, to be safe, vigilant, and that he would see you again. He’d always kept his promise.

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Going without sleep wasn’t something new for him. So sitting in the light of one of the four moons in the sky wasn’t exactly unexpected when you saw it from the dark interior of your home. He knew you were there. He had detected the movement in the building with his helmet without even looking in your direction. He sat on the stone stoop outside, helmet slowly shifting between looking down to the dirt path in front of him and up into the bright sky. It was the only glint off him from the moonlight, he was without his usual covering of Beskar armor on the rest of his body. He was in his black fabric shirt and pants, odd to see him without the visual breaks the shapes of his armor made. He still had his boots and his helmet on. You had yet to see him without them. You put on a robe to cover yourself in your summer-light sleeping shift and decided to see if you can be of any help.

He couldn’t decide if he was relieved or more anxious at the sight of you. He felt naked suddenly, despite all of his body being covered except his hands. He became hyper-aware of the small patch of skin around his neck that was uncovered, the wind tickling and reminding him he was in his most exposed state around someone in decades. You looked soft as you take slow steps towards him across the grassy garden between the buildings. It wasn’t just your loose hair, the free, flowing fabric showing skin he didn’t recall seeing before. The glow of the moon lent him to think he could see the energy around you as you approached and it bounced off your skin. But unlike The Way he was taught, he didn’t think less of you for appearing delicate. He knew better, but it seemed to help make him feel more at ease in his state of what he would call undress.

“Hey Manny.” your voice was considerate like a mother's and full of affection he didn’t feel he deserved. “Would you like some company?” you ask, tilting your head and holding out a small cup of cold liquid down to him. “Brought tea.” you mumble before moving to stand near him, the edges of your robes reaching out to caress the shaft of his boot on occasion.

With his head low, shielding his chin from your view he takes a sip. At this point in his inner monologue, he didn’t have it in him to ask you to turn away while he drank, hiding in the shadows was good enough.

“Put the kid to bed but you forgot to put yourself down too?” you give him a sleepy smile. You hear a long exhale from the filter in his helmet. “Still too much going on in your head to sleep, huh?” you say with a nod, already knowing. You sit your cup on the corner of the small stone landing in front of the door. You kneel before him, settling in and studying him dutifully. You’d never seen him look so vulnerable before, and you were mixed on your decision about how to approach him.

“Yeah. Still too much.”

“I’m all ears if you want to spill.” you offer with upward palms.

“I don’t want to keep you up. You should go back to bed. You were resting before you saw me.”

“And now I won’t be able to go back to sleep until I know you’re okay.”

A small grunt of acceptance comes from the helmet. “I feel angry and it confuses me. I shouldn’t be angry. I’ve made my decisions. Most a long time ago. But I am. I’m trying to practice humility, acceptance. But there’s only anger and this feeling of being betrayed.”

“That sounds normal to me.” you nod in support, thankful he was finally sharing with you what was going on in his mind. You’d had glances inside before, stories he’d told, where his morals lie, but this felt different. “They did help you. Maybe it’s good to focus on that?”

“I’m not angry at them.”

Your brow shows your confusion.

“I’m angry at the Children of the Watch.”

That was different. You understood him being angry at those that called him a zealot and dismissed his beliefs. Despite them being so similar.

“No matter how small of a part of my creed may have been a lie. It was still a lie. Now I wonder what else was a lie. None of it? All of it? I’ve given my life to this.”

“It’s not... simple.” you offer gently, eyes to the ground, not wanting to antagonize him.

“No. It’s not.” you let him think, studying his bare hands. It gave you plenty to do in the downtime. You’d seen bits of him before when healing him, but you couldn’t recall if you’d seen his hands. The warm brown skin was marked with light and dark scars alike from the years of abuse his body had taken. They were bigger than yours, more square and sturdy in comparison. “The things I’ve sacrificed for a lie.” it was almost a hiss, and you feel the burn of it in your chest for him.

“I know it’s not my apology to give,” you say quietly, rising on your knees to touch his forearms, suddenly aware of the softness and warmth underneath your hands as you touched him. There were no bracers to block you or worry about activating, there was just a man under there after all. “But I am sorry about how much this is upsetting you.”

“You are never a source of upset, Jaira.” Your name came off his lips like a whisper. He had so seldom used it. He wanted to reach out and touch your hands, but the thought of skin against his made him more agitated in multiple ways, both good and bad. Your expressive face told him you had known this but thanked him for the kind words all the same.

“Nor you to me, Manny.” you said his name in the same tender way, making it feel almost vulgar as you rest so close together.

He looks away, you can see the gears shifting from his subtle body language. “I believe it’s long overdue… in the interest of exploring the things I’ve sacrificed... you’ve earned my real name.” Your eyes go large, a quick jerk upward as he moves, bravely so, to place his hand over yours. His skin felt as hot as the sun. “My name is Din. Din Djarin.”

“Din.” you say with an unintentionally sickeningly sweet sigh of revelation. You give a smile that grows larger slowly, feeling it reach up into your eyes. “Din. That’s such a… gentle name. I like it.” you insist with a nudge forward of your chin.

“Yours reminds me of a phrase we have in Mandoa.” he looks down, now preoccupied with his decision to touch your hand. It was so giving, warm, and feeling distinctly feminine when paired with his.

“What’s that?”

“I think it would translate best to luck… destiny. Bright stars that light the good course to take.”

Your eyes went wide like a forest animal. You couldn’t help it, it was one of the sweetest sentiments anyone had ever given you. “Say it for me, Din.”

He felt his chest jerk at the word. He wasn’t used to being affected by them. Certainly not his name. “Jate’kara.”

“I’ve not been able to find much about your language. Would you be willing to teach me someday?”

“Of course.” he sounded borderline offended at your statement.

“Did I say something wrong?” you ask with a tilt of your head.

“No, no.” he shakes his head. “You don’t have to ask things of me like they’re favors.” he clarifies. “Whatever you need of me...I’ll do it.”

It sent a flip to your insides. This felt like a lot of responsibility. You could just... request things from this myth-worthy Mandalorian? It was an odd power rush you weren’t truly capable of dealing with in this rather intimate setting. You were close, almost between his knees, hands clasped together and speaking quietly into the warm night air. The condensation ran cool on your skin, the wind leaving bumps over your skin in its wake. The buzz of animals and insects was loud but faded when you were so close and so deep in conversation. If he said you could ask anything of him. Then perhaps you would. Why sit on the intensity of the moment? Strike.

“What is it that is bothering you? You feel... different. Not angry. I’ve seen you angry this is more subtle more...deep. I feel like you’re holding back. What is it that's making you so angry? You are so logical and reasonable in your approach to things. What is it that's so distressing you can't sleep?”

He takes a deep breath. He hasn’t wanted to say and be thought of as simple or even crude. But you'd asked and he was left with no excuse. “There are things that men want...even need that arent considered with The Way. I am a Mandalorian. But I am also a man. I've given so much of myself to being Mandalorian that I've had to deny myself things that are a part of that human side of me.”

“And with learning of the lies, you’re angry because you feel like you've been suffering for no reason.”

“Yes.” a stern answer and a strong nod to accompany it.

You almost lost your nerve, but with the way his thumb kept sweeping across your skin and the voltage it felt like it created with every touch you would’ve cursed yourself if you didn’t ask. “What have you sacrificed unwillingly, Din?”

Your eyes gave you away if your tone hadn’t. His helmet doesn’t move, he is as still as stone, gray, and shining like a polished river rock as he bores into you. “That is a bold question.”

“You have given me bold answers. I return the earnestness with the things I want to know.”

“You want to know these things?”

“I want to know you.” a direct answer and a slight leaning forward to keep him close as if he might run away in fear. Which was the most ridiculous imagery you could imagine. “I always have. I’ve been witness to your good and the bad actions. I’d like to be a bearer of your thoughts tool. I can’t help but want to understand what makes you, you. Of all the creatures and people I’ve met, you are the only one to hold my attention so completely both with and without his presence.”

Your words made for the most interesting combination of occurrences in his chest and stomach. It was fire and ice, a pull to the man in him, and a calling of praise for the life he led. His cheeks burned, a rare occurrence. It had all been a fantasy before now. But you with your fond words and their heated meanings were making them feel more real by the second.

“You do know how to appeal to both sides of me that I’m talking about.” he pauses and observes your face a moment, and no sign of retreat is within your eyes. “There's been no place for the… physical intimacy that men can crave. I am not one to pay, and I don't have the time to put into such efforts that I believe are needed for such… intimate things. They’re as sacred as an oath. I might've not acted that way when I was young. But clarity is gained with experience.”

“I share the sentiment.” a touch of sadness he understood well was in your eyes and it made his chest ache. A being like you shouldn’t know these feelings. A flash of anger lit within him for the injustice in a universe where a woman like you would ever feel lonely in such a way.

“You’ve taken no oath to hold you back from such things.”

“But I have not had the time, place, or person to swear such sacred oaths.” you give a subdued laugh, throwing his words back at him. “Or… at least I didn’t think I did… because I wasn’t sure if they could.” you look away and he sees it. You meant him.

“They can,” he answers, a deep fearless voice emanates from the helmet that holds your entire body at attention. “There are… obstacles to overcome. But they can.”

With a rush of confidence, you move closer, your chest against his legs and your hands on his knees. “Do you know of any obstacle I have yet to overcome?” a smirk that catches him off guard appears, a playfulness to your eyes bright and doting on him makes him catch the fever you were trying to spread.

“No.” a breathy answer through Beskar.

“Then let me help.” you offer. “I have grown so fond of you over these years. I wasn’t convinced you felt the same.”

“I do.”

“We can approach this issue together and… overcome it the same. As we have before.”

“As we will again.” He recites part of the toast you liked to give before leaving on missions. He remembered it. He did care.

“What obstacles are there? You know you have my silence with such things.”

Where did he even begin? He didn’t feel prepared and ironically he was unprepared for such actions to take place and feelings to be felt. “I know. I trust you.” There was nothing but the truth in his words and you reach to put your hand to the side of his helmet as if it were his cheek. You had always accepted this part of him, treating the helmet as if it WAS him and not an external thing. Which is how he thought of it most of the time. There was never a wish for him to remove it or invasive questions. You were knowledgeable about the Mandalorians and knew their armor was sacred to them, and you assumed as such about this man and his helmet. He places his hand over yours, the warmth between them registering on his helmet display and building condensation on its surface. “Let’s go inside.” he instructs, taking your hands, a flush of warmth through his bones at the touch of another.

“Is the child-?”

“Fast asleep.” he quickly answers, leading you to the small bedroom in the earthen home.

He stands at the long side of the bed for a moment, hand in yours and trying to get his bearings, it had been so long since he’d done anything like this. You saw his head moving and taking in the room and then you and back again, you could sense the uncertainty. “Din, relax.” a warm smile comes across your face, taking the lead, and that was fine with you. You almost coo his name, your hands moving to his upper arms to rub them reassuringly.

“Hard when it’s been so long.” he regrets it as he says it, thinking it might sound a bit pathetic.

“Believe me it’s been a very long time for me too.” you console him, standing chest to chest to start. You follow the hills and valleys of his arms, strong and lean under the pliant fabric to his bare hands, lacing your fingers together, feeling him hide the twitches and jerks from the sensation of touch. “Sit down on the bed. Let me get close to you.” he sits down, sat up far too straight. “Put the bend of your knees against the bed... there we go.” he feels your hands on his thighs and an audible gulp hits your ears that you ignore. “You know I’m not going to judge you. I want this… I want you too.” He feels you close the space between you, your legs sliding between his naturally wide splayed ones. “Now tell me what obstacles did you mean before? Talk to me and let me know what you need.” your hands trace the dark lines on his helmet and a shiver runs down his back.

You were being far better about this than he warranted. It made him want you more, a hunger in his lower stomach slowly growing past his anxiety. “Helmet stays on.” was his first thought, spoken almost too quickly.

“Of course.” you keep your voice quiet and soothing, hands making their trek up and down his arms, waiting to feel them lose their tension. “Do you have to leave everything else on?” you coax him with a squeeze to his biceps, putting one leg up, now visible from beneath your robe over his.

You can’t see it but you get an actual grin out of him. “No.” a more confident response, feeling more relaxed with your unintentional playful humor. You see him look down to see the bare skin, the touchless friction between your bodies growing hotter by the second.“But let’s not get carried away.”

You hear the laugh this time, he sees your expression shift, a triumphant smile for getting him out of his own head. “I know I can be sensitive when I’ve not... been touched in a long time.”

“Yeah?” he liked the sounds of you talking about it a little too much. He wanted to hear anything you’d tell him about your body.

“Yeah.” your breath catches, “Are you?”

He nods, he didn’t have the confidence in this area yet to own what he saw as shortcomings.

“I want to sit in your lap. Can I?” You wanted to take it slow. The last thing you wanted was to scare him off. There is a fine line between indulgence and going too far when it came to dealing with a man like him.

“Yes.” another quick nod, and you are happy to give in, your hips settle well on his strong thighs, feeling secure. To him, it felt it took forever and didn’t last long enough. The drag of your bare skin against his thin clothes was a lot. The weight of what felt like a lifetime of neglect to himself and his needs weighs as heavy on him as you do. He had known touch only through violence for decades now, the tenderness you were offering him willingly was almost overwhelming. He was taught the ways of war and violence since he was young. The ways of more fragile things; of love and intimacy he’d had to learn on his own.

“I’ll go slow.” Slow was the opposite of how your hearts were beating. Your fingers wanted to touch that strip of skin unveiled around his shirt collar, but you only stared at it for the moment. His head pauses just above your chest, your arms resting on his shoulders, fingers light on the edge of his helmet and hungry to move farther down.

“Thank you.” a simple but honest answer.

You’d been close before, seen large spaces of bare skin and carried one another, slept shoved into a single space too small for you both but it had never felt like this. Everywhere your bodies met was warm and giving, both now very aware of the gap between both your hips in this position. You took the time to study him up close, the metal of his helmet was unbelievably smooth as your fingers traced invisible lines and doted on the hard surface separating you from him. Did you want his helmet off? Yes. You wanted to know, to be the only one to know, to touch and feel and savor every inch of him. The more you thought about it, the closer you got to him, the harder it was to recall a time you didn’t think of him this way. Repressing your wants and needs was something you were both personally familiar with.

“It doesn’t bother you when I touch your helmet like this does it?”

“N-no. I like it.” his face a melted mess under the guard. He watched you so close, your bright eyes glowing with the light the moon beaming down. He couldn’t feel it, but he knew everywhere you touched, spots lighting up red with heat, pulsing where more pressure was applied. It was a good introduction to being touched again. You push forward, a single kiss to where you believed his cheek to be. When you pulled away, he answered before you could ask. “Go on.” a heated hiss through the filter deep and dark and heavy as it hit your ears. You place another to the other side, tilting his head you give him another to his forehead. His eyes would close when you were near, a happy sigh, a weighted exhale is let out, feeling his shoulders slumping with each dot of affection. You hold his metal cheeks, a faint kiss to the tinted part of his visor. You press your forehead against his, barely a measurement worth noting separating you as he gives in to your touch, wanting to fall into you, to give you back what you were giving him.

You move your hands slowly, giving him time to register and adapt before moving on, your arms wrap around his helmet, holding him close before leaving a trail of smaller kisses behind, bringing his head only slightly down into your chest. Underneath he was a slack-jawed puddle. Your arms made their way down his shoulders to his back, you could even feel the raised skin of scars you’d helped suture, fingertips light along them, exploring new ones. After your flat palms explored his back, finding his breathing steady and deep you tried something new. A drag of your nails against the fabric drew a deep groan from him. “Good?”

“Ung-” a deep enthusiastic grunt escapes the helmet pushed to your collarbone. “Yes.” You continue, you scratch his back and he swears he could cry at the sensation. You didn’t move away or avoid his scars, the patchwork he felt his body looked like. You embraced it, all of him, and it was hitting him harder than he expected it to.

You take a deep breath, another kiss to soothe to the cold metal. “Do you want to...see me? Or- touch me back?”

He hadn’t even thought about it, his brain hadn’t moved past the feel-good moments you were covering him in.

“Yes.” a simple but hungry answer. As you see his helmet tilt downward towards your chest.

“I want you to too.” Your sincere tone struck him, he watched your agile fingers reach for the belt that held your robe in place. It fell silent, blood in your ears as it was your turn to feel the taste of nervousness on your tongue. Your body was something that did things for you, it wasn’t something you often stopped to consider the aesthetic of. The quiet noises that he let escape as you took off the robe left any hesitation behind with it as it laid on the floor abandoned. His hands didn’t move, his chest did noticeably, as yours mirrored, picking up speed as you moved forward. You take one of his hands, thumbs rubbing circles, leaving small kisses on his fingertips as the sounds beneath the Beskar grew louder. The rhythm of his breathing was now audible, helpless sounds you never expected to hear from anything but pain brushed against your ears and touched you in places no one had in ages. You kiss him palm, nose nuzzled into the only slightly trembling fingers. After you felt the skin-to-skin contact was enough to calibrate him, you meet what you felt to be his eyes, taking his hand and placing it over your breast. You were still covered with the thin sleep shift but it was made for breathability in the heat of summer and didn’t leave much to the imagination. You take him by the wrist of the awkwardly avoidant hand and put it on the curve of your hip. “Is this-?”

“Yes.” he rushes out and sees you smile, causing another kiss to be given to his helmet where you were aiming for what would be his mouth. He groaned, feeling your nipple harden against his palm, the other feeling the silky slip of fabric as he let himself give a firm grip to your fleshiest parts.

“Go on, Din,” you whisper into his visor. “Touch me,” you ask of him. A strangled noise breaking through bitten lips is your answer. You place your hand gently on top of his, showing him it was okay, reminding him how to, helping him give in. Your hand forces his to cup the weight of your chest, the exhale of pleasure fogged up his visor as you had your head rested against his. “Like that, yeah.” you wet your lips and his hand begins to move on its own. Soon his hands are kneading at you, a simple brush of thumb over your nipple forces an inhale he drinks up the sound of.

He fondly recalled this now, that static in the air, the shared breaths and the power he felt with a woman in his grip. He relaxes his head against the bend of your neck, mouth open and watering, hidden from view but the sound of his breathing was enough to tell you he was giving over to it now. The tentativeness leaves, his hand pulls your hips closer to him, both inhaling at the feeling of touch against the places your arousal was spreading from. You let out a small whine at the feeling of the seam of his pants, pressed against by his growing erection.

“Fuck.” you hear exhaled into your shoulder and you shudder. “You feel...so good.” his hand grips you firmly, “Like velvet in my hands…” his lips brush against his helmet and he wishes it was your skin. He was famished for touch, for this connection and lust he’d repressed for so long. But here it was, in his hands, in his lap asking him for more. His hands ran up your bare chest, feeling the pulse under your skin and the slick your sweat had created. “You’re as hot as a star under my hands.” he groans.

You audibly swoon at the comment, feeling that distinct masculine roughness of well-worked hands as his palms moved into your hairline. “And you’re as hard as Beskar under me.” You move your hips, a grind against his, and a fully formed moan escapes, neck going limp and the heaviness of the helmet resting on your shoulder now. You whine, the friction feeling even more delicious against your glossy wet center. He encourages you wordlessly, a hand on your ass to keep a slow rhythm, a painful drag of your engorged clit against the perfectly fit shaft of his cock. Such a thin piece of material between you, you thought. You reach between your legs, a wet mess on both of you and it’s no surprise. “I’m as wet as Kamino, Din.” you hum and smile, the front of his helmet against your neck again. You feel the vibration of his groan against your skin. “Look what you’re doing to me,” you whisper, mouth pressed against his helmet where his ear would be. He sees the light hit your fingers as you raise them. “See that?”

“Fuck...yes little star I do.” he groaned heavily, his chest heaving a bit. You get bolder, your hand moving from your lips to the painfully hard throb in his pants. Another long groan, a jerk of his hips as you palm him, a back and forth against the pressure, feeling him jump against the confines. “Unf - I - I won’t- “ his hips jerk and his hand moved faster than you can register to your wrist. A firm hold that makes you moan and stop. There was that strength you had wanted to be obedient to. “That might be a bit… much for me.” He stopped you out of fear of not being able to stop. He didn’t want to scare you, unleash something he wasn’t ready for or couldn’t control. It was a concern he’d cum too soon and embarrass himself, this wasn’t something he could just jump back into and impress anyone.

He was thankful you weren’t disappointed, “Do you want me to make you cum, Din?” Every time you said his name with such lust in your voice it made him moan. But he didn’t feel the least bit weak for it.

“I wanted us both to...enjoy this.”

“If you think I’m not enjoying myself you’re welcome to put that hand between my legs and find the contrary.” Another moan that makes him slump comes heavily from him. “If you do want to...enjoy this…” you let out a small breathy laugh he raises his head to. “I can arrange that.” you offer, your nose gliding affectionately against the center indent of his helmet. “Relax and enjoy this with me, Din.” you give him a reassuring smile, lining your hips up again. You grind back and forth, his hands finding their place on your body quickly. You straighten your back to give him a view of you, and you finally let your fingers dive under the neck of his shirt, feeling the slightest glimpse of hair at the base of his neck, your fingers go as far into his helmet as they can. You start that back and forth against him, over and over, lazy growing more urgent as each time he gives a harsh drag across your clit, the stimulation you needed. “I’ve thought about you like this, you know.”

A small “Ungff.” was the only response he could manage.

“Wanted my hands to feel your skin, just for pleasure. Wanted to know how you’d feel... thick and throbbing beneath me like this.”

With a deep grunt, his hand holds your hip sternly, the other moving to the back of your head, pressing your forehead to his. “Yes-keep talking like that, fuck.” The demand was thick in his voice, his hands no longer gentle, giving away the need they were trying to find an outlet for.

“You’ve turned me into something I’m not for anyone else. Some needy young girl, hungry for a taste of flash and flesh with a man.”

“You’re so, fuck you’re so soft.” he moans, helmet pushing back against you like a bull, and you were happy to ride. "Your so good at that."

You let it build, focusing on the feeling between your legs, you let your breathing take over, every grind a release of sound, and a step climbed together towards your peak. “I knew you would be impressive. You had to be. Look at you.” You pant and you feel his fingers sink into your hair, a fistful slowly tightening as you held onto his back and head, leveraging and letting your hips do all the work. “No man’s ever made me such a greedy woman with only his hands before Din. No one. Only you.” The filter slips and your mouth falls open, breath fast from exertion, both sets of hands now with a white-knuckled grip against each other's bodies.

It was hot and fast and what you needed to satiate your needs. His hands and sounds told you everything you need to know for now. He wanted you, needed you, craved you. He was giving you the power to make him weak, a rush to your head that wasn’t just your impending orgasm.

“Fuck Din I’m close.” you admit, your mouth open and panting, tongue shamelessly lapping at his helmet, your lips kissing him as if he could kiss back. Once again, he returned the kisses with his hands, switching grip one went to your back, the other back to your breasts bouncing out of their thin confines.

“Fucking do it.” he bites out through gritted teeth, fingers tugging your top down to expose you and give your nipple a pinch.

“Mmmph!” a slight whine but a plea for more. “Yes fuck I love that Din, harder.” your words rush out and he eagerly follows.

“Cum for me. Cum on me. Please.” he growls, and it ignites something in you. Something primal. “C’mon little star, fuckin burn for me.” he commands, a barked order, caught up in it all, the heat, the friction, and the haze of lust around you both he cums. Unexpectedly but it didn’t matter at this point. With that solid thrust against you, a hand gripped into the flesh between your shoulder blades, the masculine energy you’d craved washes over you in the grunts and expletives that leak from the helmet.

“Yes, fucking cum Din. Give it to me.” you moan shamelessly, head falling back. A yip of “Yes.” building from whines to full roars overcomes you as you do as he asks and explode into a white bright hot light that consumes you. You try to keep the pace, the contact but your body stutters and begins to shake. The now warm metal of his helmet presses between your bouncing tits as your head tilts back and he holds you up with both hands, you never felt fear of falling when his hands were on you. At least not falling into the floor.

It was as if his mind cleared, and he was left soaking in this gleaming woman cumming hard in his arms. He held you up, seeing your chest heave, the pink flushing your skin, how much desire he felt in his growled name as you gnashed your teeth and came on him.

Fuck he felt good.

He got to scoop you up, a trembling and panting shadow of the primal goddess you’d just been, arms wrapping around your waist, one hand moving to see your face as it fought to regain its bearings.

"You glow like a star when you're like this." He isn't sure if he's overstepped, he doesn't know if the shine in your eyes is from the recent orgasm or his words. “Fuck you are… beautiful. You know that?” your mass of hair falls forward as you look down at him, chest still finding its normal pace.

Your eyes blink, a flutter of disbelief and, if he read you correctly, a slice of fear for only a second. “Beautiful?” you ask, feeling a bit bewildered.

His hand stops its gentle stroking against your hair and face. “You act like you’ve never been called that before.” You can feel the subtle laugh in his chest when he says it.

When your face remains still for a moment, eyes bright and full of memories he wishes he could access you reply almost sheepishly, “I've not.”

With the simple, quiet answer he was given more information about you than you knew you'd given up. You'd never let anyone in like this before. No one had ever held you and told you the things you longed to hear from another you cared for. You were like him after all.

With a light hand, you rest against his helmet again, stroking it as if it were his hair. "It means more coming from you than it would anyone else."

Now you've taken his words from him. You managed to make him feel special. Something he had denied his entire life. Something he wasn't sure he even believed anyone could be. In the same sentiment as your confession, he was glad it was you that was changing his changing his mind about such things. Learning the truth about the Children of the Watch, and the questions it brought up about his life was the first in a wave of realizations he'd face. Perhaps it was time to reevaluate how he lived his life if it meant missing out on things like you.

I tagged those who wanted in my Javi fic and interacted with my posts about making this fic. If you want to be added or removed just let me know.

@jaegeeeeer @likedovesinthewnd @inkededucatednnerdy @biharryjames @ladamari68 @past-romantic @weliketomoveit @shikin83 @ookamikuro @anglovesthis @swol-bear @louist91syndrome @guiltylitpleasures @nfnoofiii @hellothefriend @beatha-dubhach @l-e-i-n-t-h @firehart9

#the mandalorian reader #the mandalorian x you #din djarin reader #din djarin fic #the mandalorian fic

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hp-imagines-07 · 4 years

Text

Who Better Than The Love Of My Life?

Sirius Black x Fem!Ravenclaw!Reader

Universe: Harry Potter; The Marauders era

Type: lil angst but really fluff

Summary: being Sirius' best friend isn't easy, but it just get worse when [y/n] fall for him and keeps thinking if they could ever be more then just friends...

Request: YES|no - "Hey sweets! I was wondering if you could do a young!Sirius X reader with 14, 21, 10, 41 please? If possible, could you put y/n in Ravenclaw? Thanks so much for creating such lovely reading material ❤️" @approved-by-dentists | Thank you so much for all the love and i'm so sorry it took so long...

Prompts:

10 - "I can't do THIS anymore."

14 - "Why are you awake?" "I could ask you the same."

21 - "When was the last time that you slept?"

41 - "We never were just friends, and you know it." "I know it, but you deserve someone better than me."

Warnings: cursing, kiss maybe and a lot of arguments.....

Song: xxx

Word Count: 4.5K

Posted: 2nd of September 2020

A/N: i am so proud of how it ended, i thought that it wouldn't be as good as i wanted it to be, but i fell for sirius and i don't wan to get up anymore, so yeah (don't forget to read the bonus........) and thats a daffodil if you don't know

My Others Accounts: @imagines-07 (Principal Account) | @mcu-imagines-07 (Marvel Comics Universe) | @stit-imagines-07 (Stranger Things & IT) | @obx-imagines-07 (Outer Banks) | @cm-imagines-07 (Criminal Minds)

MY MASTERLIST

"Why Potions Class is so hard?" You said and sighed, while dropping your head at your book, making Remus just roll his eyes at the way that you were being as dramatic as Sirius. Oh, this boy was so tired of you two making such a scene by nothing.

"It's not that hard. You just have to pay attention!" Remus said the last part a little louder and everyone at the library looked at the two of you, Moony just smiled trying to act normal and pretend that he wasn't feeling his cheeks becoming warmer by being embarrassed.

"I am paying attention, but I just can't understand." You said already giving up and closing your book. Anything was supposed to be so hard to understand, you're a Ravenclaw, you thought that you would understand everything and explain it to the others just like everyone else from the same house as yours, not the other way...

Remus opened his mouth to answer you and probably make you continue to study anyway, but before he could say anything, a pair of hands covered his mouth and another one covered your eyes, while Peter just sat at the other side of the table with a bored expression by Sirius and James' idea.

"Who am I?" A voice asked behind you, but it was obvious that it was Sirius trying to use a deeper voice and you would have rolled your eyes if it wasn't for his hands stopping you.

"I don't know, probably Wormtail..." You said and heard someone sitting at the chair between you and Remus and you just knew that it was Prongs, and Sirius sighed behind you. He took his hands out of your eyes, letting you see again the not so lightly library and your friends rolling their eyes to Sirius' reaction. It was obvious that you were trying to mess with him, and looked like you got it.

"You knew that it was me." Padfoot said while sitting at the chair at your right. You smiled at him and Sirius felt his knees going weak with your beautiful and radiant smile.

Moony asked something to all of you and before you knew, your Potions' book had been already forgotten and you five were chatting about one of the unbelievable gossips going around Hogwarts.

"You really think that this girl is pregnant?" James asked with furrowed eyebrows, looking at you, that just giggled at him and the rest of the Marauders by believing at all of those rumours. But you were too focused on James and Peter arguing if it's true or not, that you didn't notice Sirius bringing his chair closer to yours and putting his arm around your shoulders.

It felt natural, it was like his arm was supposed to be around your shoulders every moment, it was like you were made for it... Sirius' touch was warm against your cold skin and his scent was the best one.

You tried to act normal because he does it - and a lot of other things that are related to physical touch - a lot of times, but since the girls noticed the different way you acted and asked for you if you had feelings about Padfoot a few weeks ago five to be more specific, you couldn't help but also notice that recently you were feeling weird things around him... All the cliche feeling that you had read so many times at a few of your favourite books like butterflies at your stomach, cold and sweaty hands, loud and fast heartbeat, dry throat, warm and red cheeks... You were starting to feel so much of those stupid feelings that you started to involuntary act weird when he's that close to you.

And it all would feel just normal and ordinary if he felt it too when you were together, but how could you know if he felt anything?

Before you could stop yourself from daydreaming about it, your mind takes you to a universe where you and Sirius were together, where he felt the same about you and you or he had the guts to tell each other about your true feelings - doesn't matter who did first... At this universe, you could call Sirius yours, you didn't need to hide any of those stupid feelings around anyone. Flashes of his arms around your waist, while your back is pressed against his chest, with tangled legs at the grass, just looking at the sky full of stars, passed through your mind, just like the ones where you could feel his body next to yours, with his arm around your shoulder, while flirting with you in front of some boy that was trying to take you to his dorm... You could even feel his kisses on your neck, cheek, lips or anywhere else.

Moments where he called you his girlfriend, and you called him your boyfriend.

"[y/n]?" You blinked a few times and shook your head to send all of your unintentional thoughts to the back of your mind - where they should stay and never get out -, with the hand that was passing in front of your eyes, trying to get your attention.

As you looked around, you noticed that all of your friends were staring at you with confused expressions and all of his foreheads frowned. "What are you thinking about, sunshine?" Padfoot asked you and you turned your head to his direction, feeling various goosebumps going up and down your body with his strong gaze focused on you and no one else - something inside of you even could tell that if someone fell in front of you, he wouldn't even flinch his eyes from yours. The way his arm around your shoulders made his face stay so close to yours, caused you the neediest to kiss him at this exact moment, with all of your friends watching, in the middle of the silent library...

But you knew that it would be worse for you. He didn't feel that same way about you, he just sees you as his best friend and nothing more than this. And if your heartbeat wasn't so loud and strong in your ears, you would be able to listen to the way your heart started to break in various pieces just with your thoughts.

You couldn't stay here any second more, you just needed to be able to breathe and organize your mind, you just needed to be alone, you just needed to cry without anyone seeing, you just needed to freak out by yourself while hugging your pillow from your favourite muggle band... You had to be far from anyone, especially Sirius Black.

So, you got up from your seat as fast as you could without passing out, and just ran out of the library as fast as your legs could take you and with everyone looking at you by the sound that your chair did when you got up, the sound of your shoes frenetically tapping against the floor, the voices of your friends calling for you and the fact that you left everything behind (being one of the people that most care books to anywhere you go).

You just stopped when your eyes met the entrance of the Forbidden Forest and then you finally noticed the way that you ran all around Hogwarts to be away from your own best friend. 'What's wrong with me?'

You took this time to breathe a little bit, then started to walk inside the forest. You had been here plenty of times before, just walking around and feeling the cold wind with the all the shadows from the trees, both hitting your body in harmony and union. This never felt so great as now. You feet started to drag you through the trees and as the first shadow got to you, you felt your tense body become way more relaxed. Your thoughts that were running around your head making you go crazy, were completely forgotten, until-

"[y/n]! Wait!" The known voice coming from behind you followed by several footsteps, made you stop on your tracks and turn around, seeing the last person you wanted to see at the moment. "What happened there?" Sirius asked and he felt his heart ache with the vision of your red face with tears running down your face.

"I'm sorry, Pads. I can't talk right now..." You whispered and you even thought that he would be able to listen to your weak and low voice, but you noticed that he had heard you when he just shook his head and tried to walk closer to you, completely ignoring what you just said, because he knows how you always try to hide what you are feeling to anyone. "Please, just leave me alone."

Black took a heavy breath so he could try to control his thoughts and try to connect them to his body, so he wouldn't do something that his heart was screaming at him to do. Sirius' mind was telling him to just go away and let you have the space you were asking for, but his heart was saying that he should go there and hug you, just hold you and confess his feelings to you... But he couldn't.

"Can you just tell me what's wrong? I want to help you!"

"It's nothing, Sirius." He felt his heart ache by how you just called him. "Just let me be." Your voice was starting to raise with your anger by him not listening to you, and you knew pretty well that the unique one more stubborn than you, it's him.

"I won't just walk away. I won't let you alone right now." Padfoot whispered with a weak voice. All he ever wanted to do was to help you, but you never let him do anything for you, like right now.

"Why?" You screamed.

"Because I love you!" He screamed back and your eyes just watered more than before. Your lip started to shake, your eyes were burning more than ever, your throat became a huge knot, you felt your nose becoming warmer, and the tears starting to run down your already wet face.

"See?" You screamed back, with your voice ruined by the run and all the crying. "That's the problem. I can't do THIS anymore." Your heart was burning, aching, breaking... everything together, but you couldn't pay attention to it right now.

"What are you talking about?" Sirius just started to scream with you, he couldn't understand what was happening and what got you so upset. And if you weren't with a broken heart, a stubborn Sirius and crying, you could've had noticed how his strong accent got so hot at this sentence.

"Me and you." Your voice failed and you couldn't feel more embarrassed to confess your feeling for him in this way. "I'm sorry. I just can't be around you anymore." And you left.

Sirius' eyelids wouldn't close for anything in this world.

He was feeling so tired, but he was trying to sleep since '9:28 PM', by his clock. He turned around again and looked again at the clock beside his bed.

'2:52 AM'

An involuntary groan got out of his throat, while he turned to the other side of the bed, probably for the thousandth time this night. But it didn't matter what he did to sleep - he tried everything literally everything - but nothing seemed to word. So he gave up.

Carefully and without doing a single noise, he got out of his bed and started to draggle himself downstairs. As he got to the common room, he saw that anyone was there, but even with all this 'homey' and warm feeling coming from the couch in front of the little fire, Sirius couldn't catch himself to sit there and watch the different ways the fire can be, just like the other nights.

His feet started to take him out of there, and it even seemed like he was in some kind of a trance, because he just noticed where he was when his eyes saw one of the secret passages to Hogsmeade. But this was one of the most far from the Gryffindor Tower, it's on the other side of the castle. Yeah, looked like he walked all the way here.

His eyes flinched away from the door of the passage as he heard a few light footsteps, or he thought he heard because Sirius looked at everywhere around him and everything he saw was the dark corridors of Hogwarts. And then, he focused on the portrait in front of him, it was a beautiful flower, a daffodil, your favourite.

"Pads, what are you doing? Why are you awake?" A voice came from behind Sirius and, if he didn't know the voice, he would've cursed himself by having forgotten his wand at his dorm.

"I could ask you the same, Prongs." Black turned around and saw his best friend, actually just his face and neck, the rest was covered by his invisible coat. But he noticed the fingers of his right hand holding the map, explaining what he was doing here, at the same moment as Padfoot, at this hour.

"I got anxious about the match against Ravenclaw next week." James said and dropped his head a little bit to the side, silently asking for his best friend the same question, but Sirius just rolled his eyes as an answer. And that was when James noticed the dark bags under Sirius' eyes. "Wow, mate. When was the last time you slept?" Prongs asked and even chuckled a bit, but stopped at the second he saw that Sirius wasn't laughing with him. And by Black's guilty facial expression, he knew pretty well the answer to his question. "Wait, you're telling me you haven't slept since the fight you had with [y/n]?"

"Of course, James! I'm in love with her, how do you want to sleep knowing that I was the one who caused her pain?" Padfoot said a little bit louder, which made James shush him and sight.

"But it's been a week." Potter whispered to his best friend and letting pass the first time that Sirius told him that he loved anyone, with a face full of concern and sympathy.

"So what?"

"You have to talk to her, mate." James just shook his head while giving his advice to Sirius. But both of them knew that that was the thought that was haunting him by the past days.

"No, I don't." Sirius answered and Prongs felt like he could kill his best friend right now (but if he did it, Sirius would never talk to her). "And she doesn't want to talk to me, anyway." Pads finished and it was James' time to roll his eyes by the childish of Black.

"But you love her!" James said louder than he should and looked around to see if any professors or prefects were around to catch the two of them out of bed at this time. But as Sirius opened his mouth to fight with him about it, Potter didn't lose even a second to interrupt any bullshit that was going to come out of Black's mouth. "And don't even try to deny it, because you just said it."

Padfoot sighed, defeated and said the first thing that came on his mind. "But that's why I'm struggling!" His head was starting to hurt by the intense argument and he knew what was coming next. Sirius knew James was right about everything.

"So talk to her! You won't struggle anymore."

James' words have been passing around Sirius mind since the day he first said them, three days ago.

'So talk to her! You won't struggle anymore.'

Black has been wanting to talk to you since then, but he doesn't seem to be able to create the courage to go and talk to you. And he couldn't feel more stupid. He's the unique one from the hole Black family to be sorted into Gryffindor, and the Sorting Hat doesn't make mistakes, does it?

Well, he would have time to think about it at detention.

Sirius opened the door, seeing an empty Transfiguration classroom 'perfect, more time alone with my fucking stupid thoughts' and saw Professor McGonagall writing something in a few papers while sitting at her desk. "Hey, Minnie." Sirius said and the professor looked at him with a hard glare by the nickname.

"Hello, Mr Black." She said and pointed at one of the tables, silently saying to Sirius sit. "We'll just wait a second until the other student gets here, so I'll tell you both what to do." Sirius frowned his eyebrows with her sentence.

"There's someone else coming today? Who would it be, Minnie?" He asked and by the look she gave him, Sirius knew that she wouldn't tell him who it was. "Well, what they did to have to pleasure to spend two hours with me?" The professor just looked at the door, probably thinking that it would make the lucky person walk through it, but it didn't actually happen.

"She shouldn't have stayed until too late studying at the library." That was that Minerva said and her gaze still didn't flinch from the door. As Sirius was looking at the professor, he got too lost on the thoughts of how she could wear the same clothes every day - like, does she has a lot of clothes that look the same, or does she wash the same cloth every day and wear those at the next day? - that he just noticed that the door had opened and the person had walked in already when McGonagall moved. "You're finally here, Mrs. [y/l/n]."

Wait-

"I'm so sorry, Minnie. A first-year stopped me on the way here, he was lost and needed help to find our common room, but it's kinda far from here..." Your soft voice echoed through the almost empty classroom. They were pretty sure that you would start to babble about the reason you were late, but when the professor pointed to the chair next to Sirius, you stopped to talk. Maybe it was because you knew that explaining yourself wouldn't be something really important for McGonagall, or it was because you noticed Sirius.

His eyelids were swollen, with dark and deep bags under his eyes, his hair messier then the usual, a paler look on his face, but he was still so handsome.

A knot formed at your throat with the sight of him so close to you - because those days you were avoiding him, but you still noticed him from afar - and you gulped it while taking deep breaths. You were refusing yourself to cry alone at your dorm, you wouldn't cry or show any weakness near to anyone else that could notice and comment about it. You sat at the chair beside Sirius, but your eyes didn't flinch to any single part of him.

"So, you two stay here, I have more things to take care of, and I'll be right back." Minerva said and started to walk out of the class. Sirius looked at you and your confused expression (was so cute) matched with his, but before the professor went out of the classroom, she looked behind and saw the two of you looking at her. "Just do a few essays, I don't know. Just don't make anything that could give you more detentions." And then she left. But not before locking the door behind her.

"Great." You whispered with your voice full of sarcasm and you hoped that Sirius haven't heard you.

"[y/n]." Sirius called your name and looked at you, that was taking your things out of your backpack. He wasn't surprised that you would finish the essays you weren't able to finish the day before, but you were surprised with the way your name rolled easily against his tongue and lips. You even had to think about something else so your body wouldn't get shivers all around it. "Can we talk?" He asked and you continued to ignore him. But Sirius doesn't give up easily. "I really need to talk to you, sunshine." Sirius tried to grab your attention again with the nickname he used to call you before all of the chaos that you created.

"Detention is not to talk, Sirius." You whispered and he just huffed at your words, he knew you were going to say some bullshit to try to not talk to him about whatever you were feeling, but he really needed to have this conversation with you, even if he was the only one talking and you listening. "We're supposed to do essays or whatever, but not to talk." Your sassy tone was better than Sirius had ever seen it and if it wasn't for him in another situation, he would be so proud of you learning all he taught you over the years being friends. "If you want to talk, look me at any other place at school, I don't care."

"That's the point! I can't find you anywhere." Sirius was starting to get mad at the way you weren't listening to him or even caring about what he wanted/needed to say to you. "And I'm gonna talk, even if you don't say anything" He said and got up from his chair, that fell back with the abruptly that Sirius got out of it and did a horrible noise at the before quiet classroom, but his harsh movements grabbed your attention and you finally looked at him. "Can't you see that I feel the same way about you?" He said loudly and it almost looked like the whole air was taken away from your lungs.

But you needed to be sure about what feelings he was talking about, you couldn't just act because of a sentence that could have multiple ways to be understood, but you just wanted one of them. "You don't even know how I feel, how can you feel the same?"

"So, tell me." Sirius said softly and stared hard at your eyes, you even though he could see your hole soul from the stare he was giving you and your body trembled under his gaze. "Tell me how you feel."

You don't even know why, how, when or anything, but you just got up and stared back at him, with angry tears starting to blur your vision - sometimes you just wanted to end the way you were so sensible, even about little arguments like this one. "You wanna know how I feel?" You asked at him, with a frowned forehead and closed hands to try to control yourself and not cry in front of him again. "Well, I fell for you." Your voice wasn't on the way you had dreamed that it would be while saying those exact words to Sirius, but you found out you don't have any control over the future so, what can you do? "I fell so hard, that I didn't know who I was anymore. All I cared was about you and the way I could make you happy if we were together. But we never were." Your voice started harsh but it was becoming softer with the seconds you talked. "And it broke me."

"We were never just friends and you know it." Sirius said you felt your heart ache. You knew his words were true, he knew his words were true, your friends knew his words were true, fuck, the hole Hogwarts knew his words were true, and that's what hurt the most. Because even if you were never just friends, whatever the two of you were, never passed from it. You were friends, always.

"I know it, but it was always like this, and neither way you deserve someone better than me." Your voice becomes just a little whisper that no one would be able to hear if it wasn't for the empty class. But Sirius ignored your words and walked to you before you could think of anything else or try to walk away from him, his hands were holding your hips and you couldn't move away from his chest pressed against yours (even if you actually wanted to).

"So, enlighten me." Sirius whispered and his breathe was hitting against your face, with his lips brushing against yours while he talked. "Who better than the love of my life?" His smirk was so big, but you couldn't focus on his beautiful teeth, all you were looking at was his grey eyes. Sirius got afraid that you would walk away from him or break his heart as he had broken yours, but he knew you were going anywhere when you smiled at him, giggling at his words.

Your hands went to the back of his neck and brought his face closer to yours, selling your lips in the most passionate kiss you had ever thought and Sirius could just dream of. You didn't need words to show for each other how you were happy in the arms of each other. It was even being hard to kiss with the smile that fought to appear on your face - by being finally able to run your hands through his soft hair - and on his - by holding your body so close to him that all the times he needed someone to hold him like this, were filled.

Neither of you knew how long you were kissing but you were becoming exhausted with your lungs screaming for you to stop, but you didn't want to, so you just broke the kiss. You were both breathing heavily, but your arms, legs, hands or anything else moved. You and Sirius stayed like this, with your foreheads together, your hands lost on his hair and his arms around your waist, just feeling each other this close, for a while. But you didn't care.

You finally had him. You could call him, yours and he could call you, his.

☀︎︎☀︎︎☀︎︎☀︎︎☀︎︎

+ bonus:

McGonagall, James, Remus, Peter, Lily, Alice and Marlene were watching by the magic mug that Minerva left at the classroom, so they could see what was happening.

"Are they going to kiss?" James asked, for what felt like the millionth time, when Sirius got closer to [y/n] and everyone shushed him, seeing Sirius walk forward and kiss you.

They all cheered seeing them kissing and when they got apart smiling, they all knew the plan had worked. Marlene was even crying for her friend that finally told Padfoot about her feelings and James couldn't stop smiling while looking at his friends happier than ever together.

"I can't believe your plan worked, Minnie." Lily said and everyone nodded at the professor, that was smiling just like them.

"As I already told you, I'm pretty good at getting couples together..." Minerva said and winked at the students that laughed at her and looked at their friends again through the magic spot on the Black Lake that gave them a perfect vision of what was happening on the classroom.

They were so proud that their friends and students we together and happy.

☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾

Taglist:

@cheapglitter @weasleysmuch @missmulti @writtenbypics @littlemaladaptivedaydreamer @dralf0yy @buff-bork @rd155 @seppys-return-to-madness @luciferedits @old-soul-young-mind @pxtrickhxckstettxr @sleep-i-ness @marauderswhisperer @liberty01 @gweaslvy @weasleytwins-41 @siriuslysirius07 @turtlepad @ilovewinter101 @monimillion @simonsbluee @smokey102 @yourlevanter @aberette13 @yourbloodyqueen @loverboyreid @eeshea @susceptible-but-siriusexual

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nano--raptor · 4 years

Text

Bucky x TJ

- A Series of Firsts-

First Sleepover

·Series Masterlist·

Words: 700 Warnings: 18+ ONLY! Smut, soft smut, vague smut, kissing, cursing, fluff and feels and love.

A/N: These boys!💕 This chapter is a bit late, but we’re here at the chapter for First Sleepover! For @the-ss-horniest-book-club Week of Love writing challenge. If we’re being techincal, they’ve probably had an overnight before, but this one is still special. Thank you for reading, enjoy!❤

Do not click “keep reading” if you are under 18, thank you.

They’d ordered in that night, Chinese food, and sat back on the couch at TJ’s apartment to watch movies. Star Wars, Bucky’s favorite. TJ had seen it before, but something about watching it with Bucky now, it made his heart leap. The man was actually such a nerd, it was hilarious. Endearing. They way Bucky’s eyes lit up during the starship scenes, whenever the characters were flying through outer space, it was so wholesome that TJ couldn’t stop the smile that spread across his face.

“You’re a fucking nerd!” he jabbed, giggling, and then laughing harder at Bucky’s indignant expression.

“No… space is just. Super cool. That’s all.” He tried to act tough but a smile pulled at his lips and TJ curled against his side, still laughing.

“It’s ok Buck, I think it’s actually super cute. You be a nerd all you want. It’s cool you’re sharing your interests with me.” Then he kissed Bucky’s jaw, humming as the other man pulled him closer, and he snuggled against him for the rest of the movie. Being so close to him, breathing him in, his warmth, his scent, it was hard for TJ to focus on the movie, but he managed to make it through for Bucky’s sake, cause it was just adorable seeing how into it he was. As it started winding down though, TJ trailed his nose over Bucky’s neck, pressing small kisses against his warm skin. Bucky hummed, holding him tighter, rubbing his back, and when the end credits started scrolling, Bucky hauled TJ into his lap, their mouths finding each other after both longing for it. It heated up quickly, and TJ was soon grinding his hips against Bucky’s, moaning wantonly, pawing at him and wanting more.

“Please Buck,” he murmured against Bucky’s mouth, and Bucky just hummed in response, his fingers creeping up under TJ’s shirt. With his fingers on his skin, TJ was suddenly on fire, needing Bucky all over him, and needing to get his own hands all over Bucky. His hips jerked forward on Bucky’s lap, rubbing against his hardening cock, and TJ’s hand came up to tangle in Bucky’s hair, kissing him hard.

“Bedroom,” he demanded in between kisses, and Bucky stood right away, wrapping TJ’s legs around his waist and carrying him off. Dropping him on the bed, Bucky pulled back to strip his shirt off, then crawled over TJ, finding his mouth again in the darkness.

This was actually the first time they’d been in TJ’s bed, and if he hadn’t been so horny and so consumed by Bucky on top of him, he probably would have been a little more sentimental about it. TJ whimpered when Bucky started pushing at his clothes, helping TJ out of them, his strong hands then smoothing all over TJ’s skin. So warm, so good. Bucky guided him to roll over, then trailed kisses up his back, eventually finding TJ's lips again while his fingers slowly worked him open.

TJ moaned, dirty and needy when Bucky sank in, and the friction against the mattress was making him feel like we could cum already. He felt out of his mind with need, consumed with pleasure, moaning and pleading, and Bucky gave him everything he needed and more.

Afterwards, they lay tangled up in each other, drifting off easily in that post orgasm bliss.

The next morning offered a more gentle repeat of the night before, and TJ's heart soared from the intimacy.

"Thanks for staying babe. I love waking up next to you." TJ's voice was quiet, but Bucky's arms had quickly become his favorite place to be. "Y'know, that's the first time you've stayed here."

"It was, wasn't it. Way too long baby, I shoulda stayed sooner." Bucky wrapped his arms around TJ and pulled him even closer, kissing him slow and deep. They nearly fell asleep again, until someone's stomach started growling, and TJ laughed out loud.

"Maybe it's time for breakfast and coffee? But then we could probably come back to bed…" TJ let his voice trail off while he walked his fingers up Bucky's chest, and Bucky grinned, lazy and relaxed, both of them wanting nothing more than to just spend the whole day in bed. Perfect.

#bucky barnes x tj hammond #tj hammond x bucky barnes #hbc week of love #tj hammond #bucky barnes #tj hammond imagines #bucky barnes imagines #bucky barnes smut #tj hammond smut #tj x bucky #bucky x tj #a series of firsts #crackships

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davosmymaster · 4 years

Text

To the Ends of the Universe

A/N - Hello!!! How’s everyone doing? Just wanted to say thank you to the people who left a comment/liked the post about this one shot. I really hope this fic won’t dissapoint anyone.

Special thanks to @wonders-of-the-multiverse who has been there from the very first second. This fic initially started as both of us just daydreaming about the Master as usual and well, here we are XD. She was also my incredible beta reader.

As some of you know, English is not my first language, so I apologize in advance for any mistake. This is also my first fic on tumblr YAY

I really hope you have a good time reading this!!!

WARNINGS - Blood, mentions of nightmares, it’s pure fluff basically with hints of angst

PAIRINGS - Dhawan!Master x Reader (The Master x Reader)

WORD COUNT - 6,062 words

TO THE ENDS OF THE UNIVERSE

The dimly lit hallways exploded in a bright white light as you rushed to the medbay, the loud thumping of your heart stuck in your ears as you forced your legs to keep the pace for just one more second.

As Opposed to The Doctor’s, The Master’s TARDIS had always looked quite dark and unwelcoming, almost as if it wasn’t pleased with having anyone wandering around inside her. This time, however, a white flickering light guided you through the maze-like corridors to your destination. It was a big change from the dirty tricks she used to play during the first few months of your stay.

The floor under your shoes quaked as the ship took off, the harsh trembling sending your body forwards and your shoulder crashing against one of the metal doors. You rubbed the tender spot for a second, the worry that had overwhelmed you at the sight of blood quickly being replaced by a wave of pure annoyance and agitation.

“You could help me a bit here” you whispered through gritted teeth towards the TARDIS, the pain in your shoulder slowly dissolving into numbness.

A low groan seemed to come from the walls and the energy inside it. The metal disappeared as the door slid open to reveal the grey colour of the medbay.

“O-oh” you gasped “sorry”

Once inside the room and without a thought, your body automatically went for the second drawer in one of the cupboards.

Traveling the stars wasn’t as safe as you would have liked, and both the Master and yourself had gotten hurt more times than either of you remembered. As years and years passed you had surprised yourself in the most appropriate situations, becoming aware of the fact that you could find almost anything in the medbay at this point; even if you couldn’t understand the advanced medical technology a time lord could have gathered all over time and space for god-knows-how-long.

“I’m back!” you announced when the control room appeared in front of your eyes again. The figure of the Master was leaning against the console, eyes too focused on his own empty fists to be considered normal. His hair was more disheveled than usual, the fringe coated with blood as it brushed across the top of his eyes. “Master”

He jumped in place at the sound of your voice, one of his hands instinctively going to his coat’s pocket as a reflex. The wound on the side of his head was still bleeding, although the oozing flow of blood seemed to have lessened considerably since you had last seen him. His skin was much paler than usual and the dark rings under his eyes were looking much worse than that morning. You couldn’t help but think that he looked miserable, even beyond the blood staining his face and clothes.

“Are you alright?” you whispered. You took a step forward cautiously and didn’t look away from his eyes, trying to find all the answers to your questions in those big brown orbs.

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

He quickly backed off, putting as much space between the two of you as he could. You watched him wander the room, walking in one direction before changing his mind the next second. You clenched your hands around the medical supplies, the weight of all the things you were carrying reminded you why you had left the room in the first place.

“Have a seat somewhere” you demanded, although it sounded angrier than you had intended, almost like a bark. “You’re still bleeding”

“YOU DON’T TELL ME WHAT TO DO!”

Your heart hammered in your chest as a response. The silence fell between the two of you, the atmosphere suddenly running out of air. He looked like a madman right there in front of your incredulous eyes, bleeding and pointing at you like he pointed at his enemies after stating a threat. He had never glared at you with angry eyes before.

The Master had been acting odd for some time now. It all started with a change in his plans. One day, for no apparent reason, he took you on a trip to one of the most beautiful planets in the universe. The blue dunes of sand under an orange bright sun permanently eclipsed by one of its forty-three satellites. It seemed to be the perfect place to have some rest, at least it was until some of the natives recognized the Master and threatened to kill both of you.

Surely ‘the most beautiful’ didn’t imply ‘the safest’, as the few civilizations that lived there had been at war for more than a millennia. The only thing all those aliens had in common was, somehow, the desire for the Master’s dead body. When the TARDIS set off again, as far away from the planet as she could, you realized he had done the first good action in a long time: he had left behind two civilizations unified for a cause greater than themselves, to get rid of him once and for all.

Most of the time you couldn’t choose where to go, he always traveled whenever and wherever he needed in order to gather weapons or artifacts. Other times it was merely to have some fun, and on some rare occasions you would manipulate him to use his bloodthirstiness to do some justice.

Those trips weren’t as usual now, or maybe he just had stopped telling you the truth about his intentions. Burning planets, dangerous ships and poisonous waters became beautiful trips to sightseeing constellations and the most delicious dinners served next to the colorful Medusa Cascade. No matter how beautiful or safe the place seemed to be, there was always someone or something interrupting the dates you were trying to enjoy with the Master. Not that he would call them dates, anyway.

You used to read him like an open book. When he said “you’ll slow me down” in reality he meant “this is gonna turn nasty and I want you as far away from here as possible”. When he said he wanted to be alone, that was probably the last thing he wanted. And most of all you were almost a hundred percent sure that the strange words he whispered into your hair when he thought you were asleep meant “I love you” in Gallifreyan.

But you still hadn’t managed to persuade the TARDIS to get you a Gallifreyan dictionary with the words’ pronunciation. It was definitely a work in progress though, or it had been until you realized that the Master and yourself had been slowly growing apart for the last few months.

“(Y/N)” he said, his voice almost as low as a whisper “I- I shouldn’t have-”

“You’re right, you shouldn’t have” you responded firmly. There were a lot of things you were willing to forgive him for, but yelling and mistreating you wasn’t one of them.

He groaned in pain then, drenching his fingertips in the blood clot in his temple. Your own heart shivered in your chest at the sight, concern quickly burning your insides as a white hot fire ran through your veins.

“Don’t touch it!”

You quickly walked the space keeping you apart and gave him a gentle smack to his wrist. He avoided your eyes, fixing them instead on the rolls of unopened gauze, alcohol, towels, and those strange alien band-aids that accelerated the healing process up to five times faster.

In a flurry of movement the Master moved, his hands quick to try and snatch them from you. But you had known him for a long time and knew exactly what he was like.

“I can do it myself, I’m not a child”

“I know you can-” you replied softly, your mind trying to convince itself that he was acting weirder than usual because you had underestimated the damage caused by the blow he had suffered to the head. “-but I’m not as sure about the rest of the sentence.”

He raised one eyebrow in response and you watched him try not to grimace in pain again.

“Here” he pulled away from you and walked to the front door of the TARDIS, opening it with ease. The old wood-like doors pulled back to reveal a black nothingness filled with thousands of distant flickering stars “I need some air.”

The Master took a seat at the border. His back rested against the doors, one of his legs dangling out into space, the other bent beneath him on the floor.

“You’ve definitely taken quite a hit.” you laughed, “There’s no air in outer space!”

He smirked with closed eyes, calmly breathing in and out through the nose. “Don’t tell a Time Lord what can and cannot be in outer space. Now get to work, if you’re not going to let me do it myself.”

You took a seat in front of him in the small space between his figure and the open door, one of your legs also dangling out into space. Leaning in, you pressed the gauze soaked in alcohol against the open wound to finally stop the bleeding. The Master clenched his jaw as much as he could, hissing in pain.

“Sorry” you apologized, “Keep the pressure on yourself, I’m gonna clean you up.”

He leered at you, the corner of his lips smirking lasciviously. You rolled your eyes, taking the wet towel in your hands and proceeding to clean the dry blood away from his chin and cheek. You cleaned his short beard the best you could and tried to get rid of the blood clots in his fringe, unsuccessfully to your dismay.

You could feel his eyes piercing yours, his fingers gently sliding across the skin of your shoulder, softly brushing your hair to get it out of the way. You fixed your eyes onto his own only to catch him avoiding your gaze, his attention stuck on staring out at the endless sight of the universe.

The Master kept his eyes fixed in nowhere in particular while you worked on his wound. You slowly opened one of the band-aids and tried to avoid his hair as much as possible, so you could place it on the side of his head; just above the temple. Now you just had to wait a few minutes to remove it. You had used those curious things several times before and although the healing was sped up, the thing never failed to leave some kind of scar. But even with those odds stacked against him, the Master was always lucky enough to never get scarred- likely thanks to his own unique biology.

You let yourself fall limp against the door and tilted your head to whatever the Master was looking for. The sight was beautiful as it had always been, millions of stars were almost swallowed by the black nothingness that separated planets, constellations, solar systems, and asteroids. And even at the incredible sight of all of this, you struggled to find something that could possibly retain the Master’s attention for more than a split second.

“Are you alright? You’ve seemed a little distant lately” you asked again.

Fixing your eyes on his features you searched for any sign of discomfort, either physical or emotional. At the lack of response your gaze started to wander, his hand catching your attention as he played with something inside of his coat pocket.

He was likely twisting and curling the TCE between his fingers. It was a trait you had noticed during your time travelling with him, his fingers fidgeting without fail whenever he was deep in thought. It happened every time, he would either tap four beats on any surface he could find or get something to entertain his restless fingers with, most of the time the ‘thing’ being his TCE.

The memories from the day filled your head then. He had looked distant the whole time, from the very first second he landed the TARDIS in one of the three planets that formed the solar system of one of the seventeen suns in Kasterborous. It was the closest you had ever been to Gallifrey and, still, it was far enough to not be able to admire the beautiful planet that had watched the Doctor and the Master grow into adults for centuries.

“I’m just planning my next scheme to trap the Doctor”

You nodded, although you didn’t believe a thing of what he said.

The words of what you had been thinking for endless nights poured from your lips before your mind could make up an excuse for his strange behavior, like all the other times. No one could blame you, after all you were just trying to protect your heart and mind from shattering.

“Is it me?” you asked finally, your voice betraying you and showing more emotion than what you had intended.

The Master suddenly turned his curious gaze to you. So he was paying attention then…

“Don’t you think I haven’t spotted how distant you’ve been lately” you added, although lately didn’t seem to be the right word. Obviously you had realized how much time he spent alone in the library and how his visits to the room you both shared were becoming less and less frequent. He always claimed he didn’t need to sleep as much, but you had been apart for enough time for you to notice that it was just a cheap excuse to not be there.

“Do you not want me to be here anymore?”

He frowned at your words.

“W-wha-”

“Are you still happy?” you asked with a hoarse voice, feeling the familiar weight of tears building up in your eyes at the low wheezing sound of the silence. You clenched your jaw and tried to swallow the tears. “Don’t lie to me.”

He just stared at you in silence for a second, mouthing like a fish out of water, until he finally blinked and tried to make a sound.

“I-is not-”

“Just-” you cut him off, feeling again like a lie was about to spill from his lips. “-you seem sad, distant, you’re not happy and you’re lying to me.”

“No-NO!” You snapped when he tried to talk again, “Don’t try to deny it, I can tell. I know you”

“So…” Anxiously you took a shallow shaky breath “It has something to do with me, doesn’t it?”

He pressed his lips together for a second but soon relaxed again. Changing his expression, the shimmer in his eyes shifted as he smirked slightly, the dark circles under his eyes failing to achieve the frightening look he was striving for. Maybe it would have worked with anyone else, but not with you.

“You humans are so vain, always thinking the universe spins around you.”

“I’m being serious, Koschei”

He took a breathless gasp, almost as if he had been hit. The name of a time lord was one of the biggest, best-kept secrets in the universe. Only a handful of people had known (or would ever know) the real name of the Doctor, and due to the Master’s lack of sympathy and his trouble to connect with people to an emotional level, even less had known or ever would know his.

‘How many?’ you had asked when he confessed his real name one night, his forehead pressing against your sweaty collarbone.

‘Only you’ he had whispered, right before kissing your shoulder “and some Time Lords at the Academy, but they are not important.” you heard him take a deep breath, his nose pressed against your throat “All dead now.”

Those times seemed out of reach. You even asked yourself if he regretted telling you.

“Not you.” he whispered defeatedly, his head falling to his lap “It could never be you.”

“What is it then?”

He shifted his whole body to face you, squirming in his place and unable to keep still. He removed his hand from his pocket, clasping your own tightly.

“It’s me.” he whispered in a choked breath and looked at your eyes “It’s so selfish of me to want you forever even though I know I don’t deserve you.”

“Don’t say that!” you replied, struggling to believe the honesty in his voice and eyes. “You’re not serious. You can’t think like that after everything we’ve been through!”

He focused again on your hands firmly entwined.

“I believe it because… you’re so good” he looked away briefly towards the stars, before turning his gaze back to you again. “And people like me don’t get good people by their side or moments like this.”

The Master stroked your palms with his thumbs, suddenly finding them more interesting than his own thoughts. After a few moments he gave a shaky sigh, backing off once more.

“And if the past few attempts haven’t been proof of that, then I don’t know what could it be.”

“Proof?” you questioned, “Proof of what? And what do you mean by the past few attempts?”

He froze in place, and you frowned at his sudden stiffness. His shoulders tensed and body solid as he sighed deeply, his eyes fluttering closed as he tried and failed to relax his posture. The Master grumbled to himself in defeat, his hand dipping back into his pocket and playing with the TCE or whatever he had found to fiddle with once more.

“I-it’s nothing. Just rambling.” he shrugged in an attempt to consolidate his own thoughts, but not even you believed his body language. “You do it a lot, ramble I mean, ugh, it’s your fault. I’m getting your bad ha-”

“Does it have something to do with the last few stops?” you insisted, although you knew from personal experience that pressuring the Master to talk more than he wanted was never a good idea “All those… extravagant places, the two dates at the Medusa Cascade…”

“Dates?”

You would have laughed at his disgusted look if the atmosphere wasn’t so tense between the both of you. So you just gave him a crooked smile.

“Yes, Master. That’s what it’s called when a person takes another person for dinner to talk and have a good time, especially when the place is that fancy. I loved it even though...”

He watched silently as you told him about the whole date and everything that happened afterwards, despite him being there by your side. Although the dinner had started off with good intentions, it had quickly slipped into a tone of awkwardness through no fault of his own. So much so that the chasing and ‘running for your lives’ had been very much welcomed, although he didn’t notice it. He even apologized once you got into the TARDIS. It was fair to say that he was beyond annoyed the first time.

A month later, when the second date was just another failed attempt in another restaurant in the Medusa Cascade, he had been furious. That was one of the reasons why the console room (or the living room of the house the TARDIS was disguised as) was even messier than usual. He had broken some chairs and cups before following your steps as you had stormed out to the library.

The Master realized as he watched you talk that there would be no such thing as a perfect time. He silently admired the star light reflecting in your eyes and highlighting your features, oblivious to everything else. He couldn’t believe the fact that fate had found a way for both your souls to meet and connect. It didn’t matter in the end how much he had tried to distance himself from any other form of life in the universe, because at the end of the day you had always been there, always. He didn’t believe in fate, but when he looked back at the few possibilities there was for him to meet a person that he truly cared about, it was hard not to succumb at the idea of a force greater than himself pulling the strings to figure everything out.

Even if he dared to think for a split second about not seeing you again, he wouldn’t be able to keep his pieces together. The Master wanted to do the right thing for once, and if fate surprisingly existed, he was certain it absolutely despised him. Countless times he had tried to have a full minute in silence with you, just enjoying each other’s company with a beautiful view, and the same amount of times his plans had been ruined by someone or something trying to either kill him, obtain revenge or obtain revenge via killing him. Until that precise moment he had never had regrets about all the people he had annoyed.

He wondered what he could do now. Kasterborous was the last place on the list, and he was beyond exhausted from trying. On the other hand, he couldn’t give up on you. His best dreams were always about you, but so were his worst nightmares. And whenever and wherever he was he could always be sure about two things: his love for you and his conviction that as long as your heart was beating, so would his.

How had he expected to make it perfect when your lives had always been so messy? After all, that was the whole basis of your lives: chaos, adventure, nothing ever occurring according to plan. And still, everything seemed to always find a way to fall into place. Not even the tardis had felt like a home before you, but now home seemed to be in his hands whenever he held yours, and he would be so lost if your hand ever left his.

A sudden current of hope swallowed him whole.

“Travel the universe with me.” He whispered, loud enough for you to hear.

You couldn’t help but chuckle at his pleading. However, your laugh died with ease when you turned around to find a pair of saddened eyes.

You leaned in and stroked his beard in your palm, using a few seconds to admire his lips and features. Sighing, you repositioned yourself with both of your hands in his lap, your eyes staring intensely at his own as you held his attention on yourself.

“I already travel with you, idiot.” You gave his hands a gentle squeeze, “What’s wrong?”

The Master took three shallow breaths, his sight lost somewhere in your hands above the fabric of his trousers. You moved away from him again, gazing worriedly to how distant he seemed to be from his own flesh. It was at that moment that his hand emerged from the concealment of his thick purple coat pocket, his fist trembling and knuckles a stark white colour.

An idea quickly surged in your brain, and you fought to swallow the dry lump in your throat at the fear of something serious happening to him.

However, that fear quickly vanished when his fist relaxed and his fingers slowly curled open; revealing what was inside for the light of day to see.

For a split second you thought he wasn’t holding anything, but then your mind acknowledged the shape of a ring sitting proudly in front of your incredulous eyes. The ring was so tiny in his large hand that you couldn’t properly see it until his fist was completely open and flat, it seemed almost a crime to keep something so beautiful concealed in the shadows.

The ring was silver, encrusted with white circular gemstones that you didn’t even bother to try and name as without a doubt they weren’t from Earth. The central gem shined a dim light almost invisible until he lent his hand to the side. For a second you could have sworn you had seen a fine black line inside of it, the thought quickly dismissed as a trick of the light as your eyes filled with unstoppable tears once again.

The only thing that could make you look away from the small piece of jewelry was a gentle squeeze to your shoulder, that and the fact that the Master had quickly stowed the ring away in his coat pocket once more. Your trembling body kept your eyes locked on the empty space it had once inhabited regardless, that was until you heard his panicked voice breaking through the loud thumping of your heart in your ears.

The Master had positioned both his hands against your cheeks which were now wet with your tears, his thumb tracing the contour of your cheek and drawing you away from your reverie. Only then did you dare to look at him again.

“I-I’m sorry. I-” he took shallow breaths, blinking away the tears forming in his eyes at light speed. “I’m so sorry. Don’t cry, please. Don’t cry.”

“W-” you tried to ask, but the words in your mouth didn’t seem to appear fast enough in your mind “W-what’s that?”

He leaned in and pressed his forehead to your own, still wiping away the tears that littered your cheeks with his thumbs. Even from that angle you could discern how one tear slipped away from his right eye, licking gently at the hot skin behind only to die in the corner of his lips.

“Nothing.” He stated with a shuddered exhale, suddenly cutting himself off by chewing his lip “It’s nothing!”

“It’s a ring!” You cried in return.

From all the things you expected from the Master, marriage was very low on the list. He despised most planets and sassily commented about any tradition and culture that wasn’t his own. You had never even bothered to think about marriage, especially after knowing that weddings on Gallifrey were mostly arranged, a mere game to obtain political power and status amongst the community. In Gallifrey weddings weren’t enjoyed and at the end of the day, they didn’t mean anything either; it was just a convenient tool for both parties.

But you weren’t a Time Lord.

You were human.

Just one more human traveling the stars.

During your travels, you had learned that the meaning of marriage was a timeless concept to the future of the human race, no matter how long someone had been away from Earth or how many millenniums had passed since the Solar System had been destroyed to dust. Some things simply stayed the same.

So he knew what marriage meant to the human race, and most importantly, he knew what marriage meant to you, for the both of you.

“No” he tried “No, it’s…”

“Don’t lie to me” you growled, pushing his shoulders back “Don’t you dare lie to me. I’m tired of getting pushed away. You always, always, do that. And it hurts”

You buried your head in your knees, your arms wrapping around yourself tightly as tears silently escaped your eyes without remedy. It happened regardless of how you felt, were you happy? nervous? sad? You didn’t even know at this point. The thing with the Master was that he was always so hard to comprehend, despite all the years of traveling and living together. In the end he was always true to his spontaneous, chaotic natures, never failing to surprise you at the least expected moment.

The Master moved closer, this time pressing his forehead to your shoulder. A second after you felt your own shirt getting damp, your heart tightening in your chest even more, if that was even possible. Knowing that not only was he only trying not to cry in front of you, he was also trying to hide, trying to find somewhere safe to let himself break. It was hard not to think about how much exhaustion and courage it was taking him not to get on his feet and run as far as he could.

He always had struggled to put his emotions into words, and expressing the depth of his feelings for you was still something he wasn’t quite used to. Even though he had never said I love you openly, you also knew he didn’t need to.

The Master was the kind of person whose acts always said more than his words. The way he supported you in everything you wanted to do, the soft whispers to wake you up and his habit of making a single cup of coffee in the morning just for you (mostly because he didn’t like the taste). You had spent an endless amount of nights in his arms when you couldn’t sleep, countless days curled up tightly next to him when sickness took over your body. You didn’t remember what nightmares felt like anymore, you hadn’t had one since the first night he shared with you. Yet still, you preferred them to the terror swallowing your body whole when his own nightmares woke you up in the middle of the night.

“Of course it’s a ring.” he finally admitted, “Im selfish enough to not want you with anyone else or anywhere else. I want you here for as long as we have.”

His confession was sealed with a feather light kiss against the exposed skin of your neck. “I’ve been trying to ask you for a long time, but it never works out. I fear this will have to do”

When you pulled away, he quickly wiped all the tears from his face in a rapid and almost angry manner. But even with his cheeks partially dry, you could still see the redness tinted around the edges of his eyes and the tip of his nose, still spot the remnants of tears clinging to his eyelashes.

You pulled his hands away from his face and cleared away the final tears that slipped across his cheeks. A choked sob tearing from his throat as he tried to take a steadying breath. You could clearly see the conflict he waged with himself, especially so when his hands turned into fists and his jaw clenched so tightly you feared he would break a tooth.

Pressing the tip of your thumb against his lip, you caressed the soft skin you were dying to kiss. Looking deeply into his eyes, you could tell he seemed to be finally paying full attention.

“Look at me.”

“I’m looking at you.”

“No, you’re not.” You exclaimed, “You’re thinking, not looking. Stop torturing yourself in that head of yours and just… look at me and see.”

Frown lines marked his face and you took the chance to get rid of the white band-aid that stuck to his forehead; revealing the pristine healed skin underneath.

“What do you want me to see?” The Master ventured after a moment of silence.

“How much I love you.” You brushed the tip of his nose with yours and slid your hand against the soft hairs in his jaw. “You need to see it, and believe…”

His short chuckle was melody to your ears.

“It's impossible not to see it, love.” He smiled sadly, your skin shivering under his touch as he slid two fingers under the fabric of the shirt’s collar. Lazily he outlined your collarbone, his hands roaming and exploring your skin as though it was an uncharted planet.

You smiled to yourself, knowing it was yet again another sign of his nervous quirks; the constant need to entertain his fingers with something.

“It’s there every time I look at you.” The Master continued, “And unfortunately, I never believe what I see.”

Somehow, you already knew what he was going to say, the words nestled deep within your heart. Closing your eyes, you gently pressed your lips against his own, the moment brief and chaste before backing off almost immediately afterwards.

“I’ll have to make you then.”

Leaning forwards your hand reached outwards, pulling the pocket of his coat round as you brazenly dug down into his pocket. It wasn't hard to find the tiny piece of jewelry, but it was definitely harder to free your wrist from the Master’s grip.

“Please…” he begged with pleading eyes “What are you…?”

Eventually, and without a word, he let your wrist go. You licked your lips, feeling the coldness of the ring nestled against your own palm but too afraid to open your fist to give it a proper look.

Taking a deep breath, you finally encouraged yourself to do what had to be done.

Even before giving the ring a second look, you slowly slid the piece of jewellery on to the place it belonged; where it would always belong. Then with baited breath you drew your gaze carefully across every inch of it, committing every shine, every detail to memory. The circular gem in the middle caught your attention for a lot longer than when you had initially seen it, and you found that the more you fixed your eyes on it, the clearer the thin black lines became inside of the gem.

You could tell it was gallifreyan, the entwined circles were hard to mistake for any other language, the black dots inside the circumferences were almost impossible to see. You struggled to find the meaning, even with the knowledge from the classes that The Master had given you in the past.

He seemed to be holding his breath when your eyes watched his features again. Noticing your eyes on him, he swallowed loudly. His whole figure relaxed. His shoulders falling back against the wood-like door, his constant frown fading and hands falling limp in his lap. With nifty fingers brushed away his fringe in an attempt to remove the hair from his eyes.

He was clearly overwhelmed by the situation and you did understand his reaction, after all he had been trying to propose for a long time.

“What does it mean?”

His grin was the biggest he had ever made, his eyes recovering that special shine you hadn’t seen in months.

“Why do I even bother trying to teach you?”

“Why do I even bother treating your wounds if you make me want to punch you in the face afterwards?”

“Uhm… let’s see…” He jokingly teased. Catching your left hand, he brought it closer to his eyes, his gaze fixated on the ring perched on your finger.

With a steady voice and growing confidence, The Master pronounced a series of sounds that you couldn’t quite comprehend, your mind still flaring with recognition for them as the words he always whispered in your hair during the night.

Before you could protest about not speaking gallifreyan, he promptly translated.

“Hold my hand to the ends of the universe.” He took your hand and gently pressed his lips to the ring and the skin around it.

“This is my promise” he finished with a whisper.

Your breath was caught in your throat. You only remembered you needed to say something when he warily gazed to your own incredulous eyes. You had no idea what he would decipher in your gaze, as your own torrent of emotions were hard to decode even by yourself. But you caught sight of the huge amount of hope installed in his eyes and your heart hammered in your chest at the sight.

“Yes, I do.”

The Master chuckled, your attention catching a glimpse of the happiness exploding in his eyes. It was like watching a supernova explode in before you. He let his head fall to your intertwined hands once again, sliding his fingers to tighten his grip around your own as he held your hand.

“I wanted to propose to you.” he smirked, “Not marry you on the spot. We have time for that.”

You chuckled and he lent in, his lips gracing your cheek as he kissed you once more. With his breath hot against your skin, the Master released a shaky, relieved whisper.

“Thank you, love.”

With a gentle touch, his hands wandered to the small of your back urging you to lay down on top of him. You followed his guidance with little resistance, hands pressed against his chest as you could hear the rapid beating of his hearts despite the numerous layers of clothing he always wore.

Excited at the sound, you shifted your hand directly above his hearts, the gemstones in the ring sparkling and reflecting the flickering light of the stars on your finger.

“I love you.” You whispered as his hands traced circular lines in your back. He made an amused sound and kissed the top of your head.

“I love you too,” He answered without a moment's hesitation.

#dhawan!master x reader #the master x reader #master x reader #doctor who #doctor who imagine #doctor who fanfic #doctor who x reader #sacha dhawan #the master #dhawan!master

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smalltragedy · 3 years

Text

* herman tommeraas, cis man + he/him | you know donovan mercer, right? they’re twenty one, and they’ve lived in irving for, like, four months? well, their spotify wrapped says they listened to ice boy by corbin like, a million times this year, which makes sense ‘cause they’ve got that whole fear hidden behind a stoic stare, bleeding from your nose and from your gums, and the night sky with all its stars, with all its mystery and unknown thing going on. i just checked and their birthday is march 15th, so they’re a pisces, which is unsurprising, all things considered. ( james, 21, est, they/them )

yes hi i did bring ducky back. i promised. please love him jst the same im sry he had 2 go fr a while.

ABUSE, VIOLENCE, DRUG ABUSE, EYE INJURY, GANG MENTIONS TW.

mini playlist.

father ;; the front bottoms / ice boy ;; corbin / lose yourself ;; eminem / my own worst enemy ;; lit / say it ain’t so ;; weezer / maps ;; yeah yeah yeahs / star stopping ;; lil peep / benz truck ;; lil peep / trauma ;; nf / northern downpour ;; panic! at the disco / your graduation ;; modern baseball.

statistics.

full name: donovan mercer.

nickname(s): ducky.

birthday: march 15th, 1999.

zodiac: pisces sun, aquarius moon, aquarius ascending.

label: the despondent.

hometown: hell’s kitchen, new york.

sexuality: bisexual (bt not out).

pinterest.

biography.

born in hell’s kitchen to vinny mercer and a mother who ran out of the hospital as fast as she could, as soon as she was able. she’d gone so quick that she’d never given ducky a middle name - just donovan. the younger brother of mercy (shoutout 2 bri)

his father’s the right-hand man of a well known mob boss named lars amaretto, and so, you can imagine the kind of environment ducky (& mercy) grew up in. weapon & drug dealings, interrogations, violence around every corner. a brutal way of living, no place to raise two children.

implied abuse tw // their father was not kind, or merciful - and ducky was a runt compared to mercy, small and sensitive and kinder than his brother. weak, and filled with softness, with big brown eyes and a smile that should’ve been able to melt ice - but it didn’t. and it never did.

he cried often, and was punished often for it until he learned to stop crying - at least in front of their father, and mercy too, at some point. only in the comfort of his room, with doors locked and blinds drawn closed. implied abuse end of tw

he dreamed, too, dreamt often. he’d been obsessed with outer space since childhood, as long as he could remember. school had once shown man landing on the moon, and ducky wanted that. wanted to be that, wanted to be there, up with the stars, discovering the unthinkable.

abuse mention // but it was discouraged, heavily so - projects destroyed by an angry fist only to be reconstructed to the best of ducky’s ability, with mercy’s help, all throughout the night. he’d saved up for a telescope when he was thirteen, but it’d been destroyed almost immediately when discovered. not a day went by that their father didn’t tell ducky that he was, first and foremost, stupid - and would always be. end of abuse mention

to the point where he stopped trying, simply. he never graduated high school.

abuse mention // anxiety mention // anyways … at the age of fifteen, he’d have enough. he was sick of the abuse, the pain - the crying behind closed doors, the sneaking around, the constant feeling of needing to escape, impending doom, anxiety attacks in the shower and in school bathrooms and at the back of the bus where nobody sat besides him because he was - that boy, the son of that man, the brother of that brute. he’d been a teenager and he’d already been an outcast by all means - an outcast in his family, no matter how hard he tried to appease vinny, and an outsider everywhere else.

the plan took months of preparation, paper ripped out from the back of his school notebook and stuffed beneath his mattress, details of his escape from a checklist of essential items to makeshift maps of bus routes to different cities.

all for nothing, the moment vinny discovered it, the edge of a map sticking out after a rushed morning.

heavy abuse tw // violence tw // it’d been the same day he’d gotten the nickname - ducky - the way the wound wrapped below his mouth, and the way it’d begun to heal - puckered, at first, like a duck’s bill. a better name than eyepatch, at the very least. the scar’d run from the arch of his left brow, across his eye, down his cheek, and below his lip. his eye sustained injury, and not allowed to see a doctor about it, it never healed properly.

eye injury // corneal scarring, impairing his left eye. astronaut dreams destroyed, but not in a matter of seconds. in the matter of an hour, maybe more - and that’d been much, much worse.

he stopped trying to run away after that. tried to be more like their father, more like mercy - more brutish, less feeling. spoke less, and less. spoke hardly at all, unless spoken to first.

still didn’t matter. still lived his days in fear, still knew it’d never change. nothing would ever change.

the mercer brothers have been floating around the north carolina scene for ~5ish years now, trailing after their father who is consistently chasing after their mother with no luck. they’re currently residing in palm motel. can we get a hell yeah?

personality & facts.

he’s actually very? intimidating? when you first meet him. mercy’s younger brother, with a criminal’s record almost as long as his - a scarred face and a mean resting face. it takes at least five minutes of conversation beyond small talk before it starts to weigh on your mind that maybe, he’s not as bad as he seems.

and - well, he isn’t. but he’s guarded - so guarded. more-so than mercy, because mercy’s quicker to anger, quicker to react, and ducky tries so hard to drown out the noise. but he’s not a robot, and his facial expressions can give him away in a second.

he’s seen what happened when mercy had a glimpse of something good in his life (though, it wasn’t actually good at all - mercy had someone, at least. at the very least) - and how quickly it’d all fallen, and so ducky puts a barrier between him and others. distant, as much as he can be.

it hurts, because ducky isn’t by any means antisocial. he doesn’t hate people - he wants to be normal, wants to have friends and a girlfriend - or maybe even a boyfriend, god - but he’s so afraid. ducky is, by nature, a very scared person. terrified to his very core. he knows there is always eyes on him, and mercy too, and he knows that nothing is worth getting someone else hurt.

you know him as mercy’s little brother, and he’s quiet you know that - but his name is ducky, and you think - he’s not too bad. and he knows this, knows the doubts. knows that it’ll get back to mercy, eventually, that his brother is nothing more but a pussy. so he fights more than he’d like to, against the guilt that buries itself deep within his chest with every thrown fist. he throws up, afterwards, in the garbage can outside. too much to drink, he says, rare grin - because grins are convincing, and grins with bleeding gums are intimidating. he learned that from his brother.

violence makes him sick to his very stomach. he can’t watch horror films, or even action films, without feeling queasy. there’s been more times than he can count where he’d thrown up after a fight, or after an interrogation, usually in private but in the occasional presence of mercy.

they fight, a lot, sometimes - ducky’s too soft, too weak, and it’s bad and it’s terrible and ducky knows that mercy’s afraid. for him, of their father, and his wraith. ducky knows that if mercy isn’t hard on him now, their father will be on him harder. still. there’s resentment, small but there, like the flame of a match. he doesn’t know what’ll happen when there’s nothing more to burn, but he doesn’t want to find out. he’s afraid to find out.

he’s still in love with the moon and the stars, and the planet’s - and their moons, too. its subdued, now, though. a silent passion - one that is often not watered, left for rot. he sneaks into engineering lectures at the community college, occasionally, or physics, or whatever peeks the small curiosity inside of him.

commits small acts of kindness when nobody looks. doors held open, the meals of elderly folk eating alone suddenly paid. picks up litter besides trash bins, and always cooks extra than what he needs and leaves the rest for mercy. it’s these small things that make him feel, just the slightest, better about himself.

because god - there are layers and layers of self-loathing. it’s a labyrinth, and he’d never speak of it - but he can’t stand his own reflection. doesn’t keep photos of his family, only a few sparingly of mercy.

a liar, sad to say. has little experience with. ehem. intimacy, and the bodies of others, but lies often and says that he does. mostly to his brother, but word travels quick - and he’s not nearly as much as a fuckboy as is rumored, having only been with a handful of girls, if even that. it’s better this way - if people know that he throws others away like they’re nothing.

he ghosts often, too, if he does get to talking with anybody. the moment ducky feels a spark, something pulling at his poor heart, he ghosts. he develops feelings too easily, too often than he’d like. has left many friendships without explanation, because of this. you know the priest in fleabag season 2? the scene where he comes to fleabag’s house? yeah. tht’s ducky!

has maybe half the amount of clients that mercy does, but he’s working on it.

pretends he doesn’t care as much as he does. pretends a lot, like there’s nothing soft to him. but a trained eye can see clearly through this. even so - even if you can see that there’s more to ducky than violence and drug deals - you’d still have to break through a dozen walls.

in the rare occasion you get him talking - i mean, talking a lot - he’ll talk about space. ramble off a dozen useless facts about dwarf stars and black holes and all of jupiter’s moons. about a video game he likes, about nothing and everything at all. but as soon as he begins, he stops - embarrassed. apologizes, shuts his mouth, disappears to wherever. anywhere but there.

drug abuse // has a. complicated relationship with benzos n xanax n a various assortment of painkillers. ironic bc he hates drugs due to. his chosen career n wldnt do most of what they sell, bt yknow. this ws inevitable. hates beer bt forces himself 2 drink it bc toxic masculinity probably man idk.

overall just … he’s a soft boy, with a big heart - bigger than anybody else in his family, that’s for sure, but his exterior is far different than that, and it’s hard to tell.

violence mention // purposely loses fights so that he doesn’t have to severely hurt someone. because sometimes he just - he was raised in a violent environment, and sometimes he snaps. sometimes ducky just fucking snaps. and his vision goes red, and he can’t control himself - because need to survive kicks in, and violence is all he knows. if someone pushes ducky - pushes him enough, he breaks. he fights back. it’s all he knows. it’s all he knows. it’s all he knows, and that’s not an excuse - and he knows this, and god, he’s so tired. he is so. tired.

wanted plots.

u look good tonight ... ;; wld love a connection in which he is feeling emotionally compromised n maybe kinda hs a thing w someone bt hes like. very unreliable n kinda ghosting bc he is very afraid n it wld b maybe bad fr them to b anything other than hook ups. cld apply to smth very intensive or smth very surface lvl i’ll take thousands.

palms sweaty ... moms spaghetti ... ;; ppl tht ducky just hs fkn brawled. cld b anybody fr any reason. ducky prob lost n he prob lost on purpose bt also ur muse cld maybe kick ducky’s ass? cld b a fake fight cld b a real fight. cld b a npc fight n then ur muse cn patch up ducky? possibilities endless. maybe they hv a nice spaghetti dinner n both of them r both bruised up frm their fight. sometimes fights end in spaghetti dinners. thanks eminnem or whatever.

own worse enemy... ;; ducky needs friends bt hes bad at making friends n sometimes he fks shit up by pushing ppl away n self sabotaging n being a major cunt n sometimes he just ghosts bt hes always very remorseful abt it? this cld b a very like. up n down friendship of any type its just. where do they stand. r they friends. r they enemies. r they lovers? probably not lovers. prob just platonic. but still its the thought tht counts.

and also ;; literally just like. anything. clients who buy off of him n like. casual friends n casual enemies n casual hookups. ppl hes ghosted. ppl hes embarrassed himself in front of. maybe ur muse tries to get ducky to socialize or maybe ducky is like. u are too much fr me. n ur muse runs off crying. endless possibilities all u hv to do is call this number now.

#irvingintro #abuse tw #violence tw #drug abuse tw #gangs mention #eye injury tw #chuckles evilly #im a madman #anyways this is like essentially a repost

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softstarfire · 4 years

Photo

From Outer Space - RobStar Celebrity AU 

Summary: Almost a year after leaving the Teen Titans, Starfire comes back to Jump City as the newest princess of pop. Her first album is the best on every music top list there is. She is loved by everyone but she wonders if the one who inspired her music feels the same.

 Listen to “From Outer Space - The Album” on Spotify and Apple Music

Credits for the photos

 Chapter 1/3: Be The One

It was a sunny day in Jump City. The skies were clear, and the rays shone through every apartment, every store and every corner of the town. The streets came alive even more when the weather was this good and specially today, which was a special day.

The stadium was already surrounded by lots of people. Some had been camping outside for at least a week, others came in running in the morning and stood at the end of the large line that waited to enter the venue. They had to wait for at least 9 hours more.

In another corner of the city the star that everyone was waiting for was getting ready to go on stage.

She sat on a couch as she waited to be called to the main stage. The girl sighed as she stood up and looked at herself in a mirror in front of her. She was wearing a cheerleading outfit. A purple skirt, top and converse. She was glad her team respected that purple was a very important color for her and didn’t make her dress in other colors. She adjusted her ponytail so it wouldn’t fall in the middle of the performance.

This happened every time she had to go on stage. She didn’t know what to do. She didn’t have a tradition; her management team was always so busy with other things and she didn’t think asking them for help in this was as important as whatever they had to do. She looked around and her eyes landed on her handbag. There was something insight that could maybe give the right energy she needed.

She took the handbag and searched for the thing she was thinking about. She moved her right hand around, pushing away her makeup, her sunglasses, her perfume and then she felt it. The steel was cold and there was no way to miss that round shape with the big T on top. She took it out and immediately a different energy hit her. Was it the right one?

“Let’s go!”, her manager opened the door. The teen jumped in shock and dropped everything she had in her hands. She bent down but her manager called her once more. “I’ll get Jackson to pick it up, let’s go!”, the woman spoke firmly. She sighed and ran out of the changing room with her.

Both females waited on the side of the stage. The presenter was introducing her album to the cameras. Normally she loved live shows in front of a big audience, it made her feel alive. But this time she was glad that her first show on Jump City had no audience. She closed her eyes. Her emotions were starting to get all over the place as she thought about the it. There was no public on the studio, but this show was going to be broadcasted live to every TV in Jump City. And there was one big TV she really wished it didn’t broadcast to.

“Well, I don’t think I have to say anything else. Let me introduce you to the girl you’ve all been waiting see. The amazing, the powerful, the beautiful and talented: Starfire!”, the purple and green lights lit up as she walked into the stage. The music started and she did to.

“If you wanna run away with me I know a Galaxy and I can take you for a ride…”, Beast Boy sang as he danced in front of Raven and Cyborg. Cyborg jammed to the rhythm and sang some parts of the song too. Raven just moved her head and her feet as the music took over her body without her even noticing.

“I got you! Moonlight you are my starlight…”, Beast Boy kept dancing around. Cyborg accompanied the green teen bopping his head.

The doors to the living room opened. Robin walked in and went to the kitchen with a pizza box in his hands. The two teens kept jamming to the song, but Raven turned her body just a little bit to look at her other teammate. As Raven was about to call his name, he took out his phone, put on his headphones and opened the box to take out a slice.

The empath turned around again. This time both Cyborg and Beast Boy were up dancing to the music. Both teens tried to make her join them, pulling her from her seat. Beast Boy even tried tickling her to make her stand up, but she fought as hard as she could. The three laughed, jammed and enjoyed the music.

Suddenly the phone in the computer that was below the TV rang. Everyone froze. Cyborg sat next to Raven and they both looked away. The phone rang once more. Beast Boy sighed and he walked to the computer to take the call, but before he did Robin came in and hung up.

“Dude, what if it was an emergency?”, Beast Boy asked. “If it was then-“, Robin was cut off by Cyborg who stood up once more and he yelled. “She is flying, men! That’s not fair to Ariana Grande, but I’ll allow it because she’s Star”, Cyborg laughed. Beast Boy looked back at the screen and sang with Starfire as the song came to an end.

The phone rang once more, and Robin hung up again. The song ended and the three other Titans clapped. Robin sat on the computer, avoiding looking at the TV.

The presenter came back on stage and he hugged Starfire. “The Tamaranian princess Starfire is back in town!”, the man clapped. “Once a Teen Titan and now one of the biggest celebrities. How does it feel to go from fighting crime in Jump City to opening for Taylor Swift’s latest tour and now getting your own world tour?”, the man asked. She smiled. “It is most unreal, I feel very grateful”, she answered, and Beast Boy laughed. “She is most our Starfire still”, Raven shushed him. “And how do you feel know that you are not saving lives with our local superhero team the Teen Titans?”, she took a couple of second to think before she opened her mouth again. “I am most thankful for everything I learned as a Teen Titans but perhaps I am saving lives in my own way with my music”, she smiled at the end, but Raven could tell she wasn’t really sure of her own response. Robin chuckled. “Way to go”, he mumbled as he stood up and walked back to the kitchen.

“I’ll leave you with the new princess of pop now! What song will you sing for us, Starfire?”, she smiled and looked around. “I do not know”, she giggled playfully. “Be the one, please. Be the one, pleeease. BE THE ONE PLEEEEASE”, Beast Boy moved forward on his seat. “Be the one!”, she said joyfully. Beast Boy stood up as he yelled in excitement. The song started and he sang with the alien singer. “This one’s new?”, Cyborg asked. Beast Boy took the CD he left on the couch when he came to see the concert on the TV. He handed it to his friend and started dancing again. Raven and Cyborg looked at the CD and BB kept enjoying the song. From outer space, it read on the cover of the record. The album had come out just a week ago, but he already knew every song and he genuinely didn’t do it just because it was Starfire.

“Oh, baby come on let me get to know ya, just another chance so that I can show that I won’t let down. No, I won’t let you down- “, the phone rang again. “OH. COME. ON!”, BB angrily walked to the computer and picked up the call before Robin could stop him. “Hello, this is The Jump City Reporter, we wanted to know if we could ask you some questions about Starfire?”, a woman asked from the other side. “Yes, but could you call in like 5 minutes”, the shape shifter tried to get off the call, but the woman insisted. “Are you going to the concert tonight?”, she said. “We don’t have tickets, but we’d love to. Thanks for the questions. Bye!”, he hung up and got back to dancing around. “Oh man, I didn’t hear the second verse!”, he whined.

“What did she say?”, Robin asked. “She just wanted to know if we were going to the concert tonight, I told her that we didn’t have tickets. I didn’t say that you didn’t let us buy the tickets because you are a bitter dude. Chill”, Beast Boy got back to singing. Robin didn’t answer. He just walked off to the kitchen.

The song ended and Beast Boy kept whining about not getting to enjoy it. “Well, we could get the tickets right now. I mean, the city is not under attack and Robin’s too busy being all moppey to stop us”, Cyborg whispered. “Yes, Raven could take care of Robin while we go get three tickets”, Beast Boy sat beside the empath and started begging her to help them get to the concert.

“That was great, Starfire! Be the One is currently number two on the Billboard 100 just below Levitating and before Boom Clap. Everyone loves that Be the One. Where did you get the inspiration to write it?”, he asked. Robin heard the question and secretly stopped the music he was listening to. Starfire giggled as she took a moment to answer. “It was the first songs I wrote. I do not wish to reveal much about the magic behind the writing process, but I will say that I wrote it after one night in which I learned that Earth is full of amazing things”, she smiled at the end. The Ferris wheel, Robin thought. Did she write it for him?

“It sure is! Anything you want to say to anyone who’s watching this live in the comfort of their home sweet home?”, he moved aside so Starfire could speak directly to the camera. “Yes. I am glad to be back in Jump City. I have been feeling the sickness of the home. So, I wish to see you tonight. It has been so long, but I will always have a special place for this city in my heart!”, Beast Boy acted like he was sobbing. “I’ve missed you too, Star”, Cyborg said softly and Raven nodded because she shared the same feeling with the half robot.

“Come on, we have to go to the concert. We have to be there for her. It’s the first concert of the tour. She’s been there for us every time we needed her”, Beast Boy stood up once more to make his speech. Cyborg nodded. “You’re right for once, BB”, he added, and Raven sighed before joining in. “I guess I can help you keep Robin distracted”, she mentioned, and BB hugged her laughing of happiness.

“Thank you so much for being here, Starfire! We are glad and sad to announce that the ticket’s for tonight’s concert are sold out!”, the presenter announced, and BB jumped out of the couch. “Oh, come on! Is Jinx around or something?”, he looked below the coffee table in the middle. “Is there other way we can get some tickets?”, the empath asked. “I don’t think so. Not like we got someone that knows someone that owns half the country”, he sighed. “It’s useless, he won’t call his batdad, we are on our own”, Beast Boy sat on the floor below the computer and at the same time it rang once more. He jumped and answered the call. Robin ran but couldn’t get there on time.

“Hello, Teen Titans To- “, he stopped himself. “Aha”, he nodded. “Yes”, he nodded once more. “What?!”, he yelled this time. “Oh, man! I mean, woman. Thanks! Yes, sure. We’ll be there”, he hung up.

“What did you just do?”, the leader asked. “Nothing”, BB answered walking to his other teammates. “Beast Boy!”, Robin called his name in one of those almost yelling but not tones he did when he was mad. “Well…”, the shape sifter stood beside Raven and Cyborg. “The Teen Titans are going to Starfire’s concert for free and we’ve got VIP tickets with a meet and greet pass!”, he celebrated, and his friends did too. Everyone but Robin. Would he be able to handle seeing Starfire singing that song now that he knew that maybe it was for him? What if there were other songs for him in the album? He hadn’t listened to it. And the meet and greet. What if he couldn’t hide how he felt? He couldn’t allow himself to show her. He couldn’t allow her to see that he missed her.

 A/N: Heeeey! Sooooo, I’m not abandoning Secret Apprentice, don’t worry. But I had this story in my head since I found this post . I made playlists for the From Outer Space album which will come in handy for next episodes and are in a special order that will make sense later, I promiiiiseee. This fanfic will be 3 chapters long and RobStar is reuniting soon, get ready. I hope you like this story. Let me know what you think! Byeeee <3

#robstar #starfire #robin #teen titans #celebrity au #raven #beast boy #cyborg #dickkory

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thebrotherssalvatore321 · 3 years

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Keeping Secrets Ch. 54

Keeping Secrets Masterlist

Katie and Klaus laid in bed both awake, laying on their back staring up at the ceiling, lost in their own thoughts. But eventually Klaus broke the silence. “I have a confession to make.” Katie turned onto her side to look at him with her head resting on his bare arm. “I called Bonnie yesterday evening.” He admitted.

“Why?” Katie drawled with suspicious eyes.

“I asked if she could consult the witches on the other side before they are torn away and find out if you can be turned again.” He told her with a tone that said he was worried she might get mad at him.

“And I’m guessing she was alive to give you an answer?” she asked and he nodded. “So can I be turned after this baby is born?”

“Do you want the short, yes or no, answer or the long explanation.” he asked.

“Short then long.” She answered.

“The short answer is yes, you can still become a vampire after the baby is born.” He answered, making her smile. “Turns out when someone takes the cure, one magic is replaced with another so they can not be turned afterwards. Even after that cure is taken from their blood by another who wishes to be human the essence of the magic is left behind rendering any other magic mute.” Katie sat up and crossed her legs to look at him while he explained things to her. He placed his hand on her leg and rubbed it as he continued talking. “In your case one magic didn’t replace another. The magic that made you a vampire simply faded away leaving no trace of it behind. Because, as a vampire you were healed of all ailments, your human body was in perfect condition to carry on as normal. Since your body is now magic free, you can be made a vampire again.”

“How do we know those witches are any more reliable than the witches here?” Katie asked suspiciously.

“Do you really think your best friend would rely on untrustworthy witches?” Klaus answered her question with a question. “She and I believe them, so perhaps you should too.”

Katie took in a deep breath then let it out. “Okay, when our daughter turns one I will gladly let you turn me.”

“That is another thing I wish to discuss with you.” he told her as he sat up to be eye level with her. “I understand why you wish to wait that long, but I fear, after the multiple threats on your life here of late, that you will not make it a full year.” He rested his hand on the side of her neck and looked her in the eyes. “I cannot, and will not, lose you.”

Katie tilted her head and chewed on the inside of her lip, looking into his eyes as she thought about it. After a minute she took in a deep breath and bit her lips closed as she moved to straddle him. He held her sides in his perfect hands. “How about you give me three days with you two as a human, then you can feed me your blood and choose the best way to turn me.”

“I think I can live with that.” he told her with a crooked smile, happy she didn’t fight him tooth and nail on the subject. He knew she wanted to breastfeed their daughter for a year, but when push came to shove what was best for their daughter was to have a mother who was alive to help raise her.

“Thank you for talking to Bonnie.” she told him with a gentle smile back. “Having our baby aside, I hate being human.”

“Don’t thank me yet.” He told her, making her smile fade. “I didn’t just talk to Bonnie about you being able to turn. I also told her I didn’t much like her leaving you to wonder day to day if she was alive or not. You’re stressed enough as it is, you don’t need to be left in the dark when it comes to your friends.”

As if on cue her text tone chimed and when Katie didn’t get it, expecting Klaus to keep talking he looked at her phone then back at her. So she grabbed it off the bedside table and looked at it to see a text from Bonnie. “Hey, I’m still alive. We’re still looking for a way to fix the other side. What I didn’t tell you was the girls don’t know that I will disappear with the other side. I’ll tell them when the time is right, I promise. I also promise to text you at least once a day and let you know how things are going here in Mystic Falls. Elena and Damon are currently off again, but other than that and this mess with the other side, we’re okay. Love you girl, talk to you soon.”

Katie smiled sadly and texted back, “It’s good to hear from you. I won’t tell the girls, it’s not my place to. That doesn’t surprise me about Damon and Elena. Love you too, Bon, please stay safe.” she hit send then looked up at Klaus who was looking at her like he didn’t know if she was going to be mad at him for putting himself in her business with her friends. “Have I told you how much I love you recently?”

The worried look faded from his face and a smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “No, but I never tire of hearing it.”

She smiled as she moved back to sit in his lap with her legs wrapped around him and placed her hands on each side of his neck. “How many stars do you think there are in outer space?” she asked as she looked around in thought.

Klaus smiled and shook his head, taking in her sleep mussed auburn locks. “I have no idea.”

“Well,” she started as he picked her up and laid her back on the bed, hovering over her from the side as he placed random kisses over her chest, “whatever that number is, take it and multiply it by a million and it still wouldn’t touch how much I love you.”

Klaus pulled away with a smile on his face. “Well, that is a sizable amount, but I wonder,” he looked around in thought, “if there are more tiny, little grains of sand on the earth,” he held his thumb and pointer finger up in a pinching manner to show the size then dropped it to cup her cheek in his hand with his arm resting on her pajama tank top covered chest, “than there are stars in the sky, because you could multiply whatever that number is by a billion and it wouldn’t touch how much I love you.”

A smile spread over her face at his confession. Yes, they were being cheesy and they both knew it, but neither of them cared. The cheesy moments tended to be the most memorable.

TVDTVDTVD

While Klaus and Genevieve sat in the formal dining room where Genevieve worked on combining three spells from Esther’s grimoire to make the enhanced moonlight rings, Elijah and Katie sat in the lounge, Elijah having a drink at the bar. “We’ve been building up to this for months. Is it crazy that I’m really freaking nervous now that the day to make moonlight rings is finally here?” Katie asked as she paced the room.

“No, any number of things could go wrong, but we will do our best to make sure nothing does.” Elijah answered calmly.

“Klaus said Marcel has gotten word that we’re planning something with the wolves, what if he decides to do something stupid and screw up our plan?” she asked, still pacing.

“You are letting your fears get the best of you.” Elijah pointed out.

Klaus walked in and Katie was glad Genevieve wasn’t with him. “Genevieve is working on combining the spells as we speak.” He grabbed Katie by the shoulders stopping her pacing. “Everything is going according to plan.” He told her with a pointed look and Katie nodded then took in a deep breath and let it out in an attempt to calm down.

“We have a problem.” Hayley announced as she walked into the room. Klaus rolled his eyes and let his shoulders fall at her bad timing. “Jackson and Oliver were supposed to be back with the stones hours ago.”

“You were saying?” Katie asked with a look at Klaus.

He sighed and gave Hayley the evil eye. “Hello, Hayley, come on in. Make yourself at home.” He told her as he watched her flop down on the couch in the room. He looked at Katie and cupped her chin in his hand. “I will take care of this.” He gave her a pointed look. “Do me a favor and stay here?” he asked and she nodded. “Try to stay calm.”

As Klaus pecked her on the lips Nate walked in. “Did I miss something?” he asked with a look between Klaus and Katie.

“Katie will fill you in.” Klaus answered as he walked past Nate and out of the door.

Nate looked at Katie with raised brows. She stuck her head out the doors and looked around to make sure Genevieve wasn’t around then closed them. “Klaus and I never broke up.” she told Nate quietly. “It was all a lie, a part of a plan that is coming to a head today.” She told him the whole plan while Elijah listened at the door, making sure they weren’t overheard.

“So you’re telling me that Klaus never cared about Genevieve, it was just an act to soften her up and trick her into doing a moonlight ring spell. And the rings will make the wolves more powerful and put them above vampires on the strength scale?” Nate asked. “Why?”

“This baby needs a safe environment to grow up in.” Katie answered. “None of us were fool enough to think the factions would adhere to this peace treaty for long. Getting them to see that they can all live in peace was just the first step. Once the wolves get their rings they will be the army needed to ensure the factions stick to the treaty. As long as everyone plays nice, the factions can live their lives freely and the wolves will no longer be outcast to the bayou. The only time the wolves will be utilized is if anyone comes after me or if they’re stupid enough to come after them.”

“You people are crazy if you think Marcel will go down without a fight.” Nate told her seriously.

“We’re hoping that he’ll see that he can’t beat us and join us.” she replied.

Elijah’s phone started ringing so he answered it and put it on speaker phone. “We’ve located their car on a back road in the middle of nowhere. I suspect they’ve been shanghaied.”

“Really what gave you that idea?” Hayley, who Katie had honestly forgotten was in the room, replied.

“The only person who would be bold enough to snatch my wolf allies is the one who has the most to lose.” Klaus continued, ignoring Hayley.

“Marcel.” Elijah surmised.

“No, he’ll kill them.” Hayley pointed out the obvious.

“Genevieve assures me that Marcel has procured a cloaking spell. The only witch that will aid Marcel is Davina. I just need to get one last bit of leverage before I pay her a visit.” Klaus told them.

Katie took the phone from Elijah and took it off of speaker, “What exactly are you planning on doing?”

“I’d prefer not to say.” He told her, sounding like he was afraid she might find a way to reach through the phone and punch him if he did.

“We are partners, remember.” she reminded him.

“Joshua is my leverage and I plan on biting him.” answered matter-of-factly.

Katie sighed. “Fine, but only bite him if Davina won’t answer you willingly then cure him as soon as you get what you need from Davina and not a second later.” Klaus didn’t respond. “Please, Klaus.”

“Fine, I will try it your way.” Klaus agreed with a sigh and she was pretty sure, an eye roll.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He hung up and Katie handed Elijah his phone back.

“Why would you allow him to hurt Joshua?” Elijah asked, having listened to their conversation, worried about what Klaus was planning.

“Because, unfortunately, a few eggs need to be broken in order to make an omelet.” She answered with a sigh not liking it even though she understood it.

Thirty minutes later Klaus called and told them he knew where Marcel was with Jackson and Oscar. He also assured Katie that while he did have to bite Josh, he had healed him and he was okay, but Davina was still pissed. She expected as much, but hoped there was some way they could make it up to them later.

So Elijah met up with Klaus, leaving Katie with Nate, Hayley and Genevieve. Katie paced the common room while the others sat around patiently. “Klaus should have called by now.” Katie complained as she slipped her hand over her dark grey shirt dress covered stomach.

“You should sit down, try to keep calm.” Genevieve spoke up.

“Yeah, worrying raises blood pressure and high blood pressure is bad for you and the baby.” Nate spoke up.

“Says Doctor Nate.” Katie quipped, still pacing. “I hate not being able to help.”

“Don’t you get it?” Genevieve asked, making Katie stop pacing to frown at her. “You’re the point of all this. Klaus and Elijah running all over town…it’s all for you. I’m actually a bit envious.” Genevieve told her with a shrug.

“You take what’s mine and yet you still envy me.” Katie popped off with a sarcastic tilt of her head then took a sip of the bottle of water in her hand.

“I may have Klaus’s love, but you’re still the mother of his child and as such he will always care about you. Not to mention Elijah has a soft spot for you.” Genevieve pointed out. “Nice bracelet by the way.” Katie took in a deep breath and cracked her neck in an attempt to calm herself and talk herself out of finding something to shove into Genevieve’s carotid artery. As she did she noticed Hayley giving her a look that could’ve caught her head on fire.

“I need fresh air.” Katie excused herself to the balcony as Hayley stood up with her phone in hand and left the room. Not long after, Nate joined her on the balcony and told her that the building Klaus, Elijah and Jackson were in exploded while Hayley was on the phone with Elijah.

They were still standing on the balcony when Elijah, Klaus and Jackson came into the common room. Jackson was injured, but Klaus and Elijah, being quicker healers, were fine.

Since Genevieve had left to check on the harvest girls and their training Katie rushed to Klaus and hugged him. “I’m invincible, Love, no need to worry about me.” he told her then kissed the top of her head.

“Just because you’re invincible doesn’t mean I don’t have to worry about you.” She countered as she pulled away from him then went to the ice bucket and decanter set in the room and made a drink. When she handed it to him he gave her a look considering he usually made his own drinks. “I forgot for a hot minute that I can’t have it.”

“So where are the stones?” Hayley asked with a look between Elijah, Jackson and Klaus.

“Scattered across the bed of the Mississippi, I imagine.” Elijah answered.

“Marcel is no fool.” Klaus spoke up as he hugged Katie from behind. “He knows an empowered werewolf army would mean the end of vampires in New Orleans. The explosion was his way of saying he means to prevent that, for all the good it’ll do him.” he took a drink from the glass Katie had handed him.

“So it was Marcel that bombed the bayou?” Katie asked with a look at him over her shoulder.

“The explosives in the building today matched those used in the Bayou.” Klaus answered.

“Well,” Hayley spoke up, “it did him pretty damn well, didn’t it?” she said with a look between the originals before she went back to checking Jackson over for injuries.

“This is my fault. I will find a way to fix it.” Jackson spoke up for the first time.

“No, Jack, you’re hurt, and no one is blaming you.” Hayley told him.

“I’m blaming you.” Klaus spoke up. “Those stones will be hard to replace. Fortunately, we always have a back up plan.” He looked down at Katie making the rest of them look at her.

“I called Francesca as soon as I heard that Marcel had gotten his hands on Jackson and Oliver.” Katie answered. “It was a failsafe we discussed a few days ago and one I hoped we wouldn’t have to fall back on, but we had no choice.”

“Seriously? The woman is literally a gangster.” Hayley argued.

“I see her more as a means to procure rare items at short notice.” Klaus commented and Katie’s phone dinged.

“She’s about to walk through the courtyard doors.” Katie informed them so they all headed down.

“Greetings, Ms. Correa. I see you’ve brought company.” Klaus said as they walked down the stairs to meet Francesca and four men who stood behind her like bodyguards.

“These are my brothers.” Francesca informed them. “I always include them in delicate business matters.” She glanced back at her brothers. “Fellas, meet Mr. Mikaelson and Miss Finnegan.”

“Please, call me Klaus, all my friends do.” He told them as he tucked his hands behind his back.

“I don’t know if I’d call us friends, but if you and Marcel are planning on having a little throw down,” Francesca turned to one of her brothers who held up a metal briefcase and opened it for her. “I’d prefer my family be on the same side as the inevitable victor.” She turned back to Katie and Klaus, who stood side by side while Hayley, Elijah and Nate stood behind them, a small felt drawstring bag in her hand.

“Then you have what we asked for.” Klaus assumed.

“Not enough for an army at such short notice,” she put the bag in Klaus’s hand, “but it’s a start.”

“Strange,” Elijah walked up to stand next to Katie, “I wasn’t aware that she was familiar with our plan.”

“My price for doing business is full disclosure.” Francesca spoke up as Klaus took out a black stone and examined it. “Your brother and his partner complied.”

“And what does the human faction expect to benefit from all this?” Elijah asked.

“I only want to solidify our allegiance to the ruling class.” Francesca answered. “It’s good for business.”

“If only everyone shared your capacity for reason.” Klaus told her with a smirk.

“Sadly they don’t.” Francesca said with a tone that was more serious and harsh than her already hard tone. “Marcel is being especially vindictive. I’m worried he might come after me or my family just for meeting with you.” She stepped closer to them. “It might be in our best interests if we combine our efforts.”

“So be it.” Klaus told her then looked at Katie. “The more bodies we have to defend the compound, the better. Right?”

“I don’t have a problem with it.” Katie shrugged so Klaus looked back at Francesca.

“Let’s get started shall we?” Klaus asked as he held his hand out to the formal dining room where Genevieve would be performing the spell.

TVDTVDTVD

Katie, Elijah, Klaus and Hayley stood around the table in the formal dining room while Genevieve chanted a spell over the stones that were scattered in a circle of salt with a three legged swirl in the middle of it.

Francesca let herself in. “My people say Marcel is on the move and he’s bringing friends.” she told them, sounding a bit scared.

Klaus looked at Elijah, “Get Katie to safety.”

“No.” Katie told them making Klaus stop. “She’s not leaving my sight until the spell is done.” She told him referring to Genevieve.

“Mine either.” Hayley spoke up.

When a few seconds of silence passed Francesca spoke up. “You two should go. My brothers and their security detail won’t be much against a vampire army.” When the two brothers shared an unsure look Francesca said, “I’ll stay with Katie and Hayley. We will be fine, go.”

Nate let himself into the room and looked at Klaus. “You know I’ll protect her with my life.”

Klaus sighed and went to Katie. “You do not leave his side for anything.” Katie nodded so he and Elijah left to protect them from Marcel and his vampires.

Not too long after Klaus and Elijah left the room the sounds of fighting in the courtyard floated into the room. One of Francesca’s security men came in and informed her that they needed to go and her brothers were already leaving. “Not yet.” Francesca told him, not taking her eyes off the stones. Something about the way she was looking at them rubbed Katie the wrong way, but she brushed it off considering she just didn’t like Francesca.

Katie’s phone started ringing, but she silenced it when she saw that it was just Cami. After chanting the spell a few more times Genevieve stopped and picked up one of the stones, looking at it. “The stones are finished. I’ve done my part. Now it’s up to you.”

“I’ll get them to the bayou.” Hayley said as he walked over to collect the stones.

“Actually, she was talking to me.” Francesca cut in as she walked over to Genevieve and held her hand out.

“Excuse me?” Katie asked as she walked around the table to stand next to Hayley and Nate followed.

“What the hell is this?” Hayley asked.

Genevieve turned her back on Katie and Hayley and placed the stone in Francesca’s hand. “Call it a side deal. Point is I’m taking the stones.” Francesca told them.

“First of all, like hell you are and second what do humans need with moonlight stones?” Katie asked.

“You can’t tell me you seriously think the human’s can go up against the originals.” Hayley added.

“No, I don’t, but I’m not human.” Francesca grabbed the knife off the table and slit the body guard’s throat, making him fall to the floor. Francesca bent over in pain, holding her stomach before she stood up showing them her yellow werewolf eyes. “I’m like you, Hayley. And now I’m gonna take back my town.”

Hayley started for Francesca, but Genevieve cast a spell on her and she fainted. Nate whooshed to her and grabbed her by her neck, but she brain pained him making him let her go before she knocked him out too. Katie, who kept a magic muting bomb in her pocket anytime Genevieve was around, grabbed it and threw it at her then tried to run for the doors, but the bomb had no effect on her and with a twist of Genevieve’s hand she too passed out and fell to the floor.

TVDTVDTVD

Katie woke up, cradled in the arms of a man, a searing pain shot through her back and around to her stomach making her scream out in pain. Genevieve was walking ahead of the man. “What the hell did you do to me you psychotic bitch!?” Katie yelled at Genevieve’s back.

“I had to subdue you, when I did the trauma caused a placental abruption. You’re having your baby tonight.” Genevieve answered, not bothering to stop walking to talk to her face.

Katie mustered her strength and elbowed the guy holding her in the face. He dropped one arm to grab his bleeding nose and as soon as she tried to run another wave of pain rendered her unable to even move. Two men grabbed her by her arms and started dragging her into Saint Ann’s. “Let me go!” she fought with all her might to get out of their grasp, but it was no use.

“Get her on the floor.” Genevieve told the three female witches that took her from the men and sat her on the steps at the front of the sanctuary.

“We should take her to the city of the dead.” Monique argued with Genevieve.

“We won’t make it. The baby is coming now.” Genevieve argued back.

Genevieve made a move toward Katie and Monique grabbed her arm. “The plan was to induce her when the sacrifice was ready.”

“I don’t know how much you know about the human body, but when a baby is coming there is no stopping it, even with magic. We’ll just have to adapt.” Genevieve told her condescendingly.

“What sacrifice are you talking about?” Katie asked as Genevieve and Monique walked over to her and kneeled down.

“To be reborn, we must sacrifice.” Monique told her.

“I’m sorry,” Katie said as she tried her best to breathe through the pain, “I don’t speak bratty teenage witch.” She visibly tensed and gritted her teeth when another wave of pain rolled over her.

“The ancestors demand an offering in exchange for power.” Genevieve told her in human talk.

“And your child will be a fine offering.” Monique added.

“If you so much as lay a finger on her I will murder every witch in this hell hole of a city!” Katie yelled at Monique.

“No, you won’t, and neither will Klaus or Elijah.” Monique told her. “When your baby is born, we will offer it up to those who came before us.”

“Screw you!” Katie yelled and head butted Monique making her fall on her ass and grab her head in pain.

Another witch took her place and put pressure on Katie’s shoulder keeping her from headbutting anyone else. “I’m sorry.” Genevieve told her, making Katie look at her. “If I don’t sacrifice your baby the ancestors will kill me and I am not ready to die.”

Katie sat up as much as she could, glaring at Genevieve with a searing hatred in her eyes. “You will pay for this.” Her words came out as a growl and Genevieve actually looked a little scared for a second.

When another wave of pain rolled over her, Katie threw back her head and screamed Klaus’s name as loud as she possibly could, not caring what it was doing to her vocal cords. She hoped with everything in her that he would hear her.

A few minutes later, when Katie was all screamed out and had been moved to the altar table of the church, Klaus finally showed up. Katie, weak from fighting, just turned her head to the side and watched as he beheaded the male witch that tried to stand in his way then as Monique, Abigail and Genevieve used their powers to pick him up, move him across the sanctuary and pin him to the wall over the altar. He fought it, but he too had been weakened and couldn’t fight their spell.

Most women cursed and screamed as they gave birth, but Katie didn’t. She simply kept her eyes on Klaus and breathed through the pain knowing the baby was coming, there was no getting out of their current predicament and now that Klaus was there and just as powerless as her, screaming wouldn’t help.

Genevieve picked up a silver dagger off of a nearby table and looked up at Klaus. “You should know this brings me no joy. I promise I’ll make it quick.” Katie still kept her eyes on Klaus as the two harvest girls tossed a sheet over Katie’s bent knees. “Let’s begin, shall we.” Genevieve moved to the foot of the table.

Feeling her body telling her that it was time to push Katie did as it said. The whole time Klaus yelled profanities and threats at the witches. “I will bring hell to your doorstep!”

“I can see the head.” Genevieve told Katie between pushes. “The baby’s almost here.” Katie pushed again but couldn’t do it for long before she had to stop.

“I will bathe in rivers of your blood!”

“Come on, Katie, one last push.” Genevieve prompted so Katie gathered all her strength and pushed once more.

“You will die screaming!”

As the pressure and pain finally eased, Genevieve took the baby into her hands. “It’s here.” she announced as the cord was cut with the silver dagger and the baby, covered in placental fluid and blood was wrapped in a white blanket. Genevieve, holding his daughter, looked up at Klaus who had gone silent. “You have a beautiful baby daughter.” For the first time Katie took her eyes off of Klaus to look at their baby. “We must start the sacrifice as soon as the moon sets with the morning sky.”

“Please.” Katie begged weakly, “Please give me my baby.”

She was surprised when one of the witches helped her sit up and Genevieve placed the tiny girl in her arms. Overwhelmed with love and the relief of finally holding her blue eyed baby in her arms, tears slipped down her sweaty cheeks and she looked at Klaus. His blue eyes were wide as he too was overwhelmed by the sight of his daughter. Katie saw something in his face change a split second before a sharp pain shot across her neck and warm sticky blood flowed from her neck and down her chest. “No!” Klaus screamed.

Her eyes stayed on Klaus as she held onto the feel of her daughter in her arms as long as she could. Klaus had no other option but to watch as the fire in her eyes, that he loved so much, disappeared and they slipped shut. She fell back on the table as Genevieve took the baby from her limp arms.

Klaus screamed at them in anger as Genevieve, Monique and Abigail started out of the church, but Monique put a stop to it with a twist of her fist in the air, breaking Klaus’s neck as he fell to the floor.

When he woke, he whooshed to Katie and slipped his arms under her, holding her bridal style, cradling her into her chest as tears slipped down his cheeks and sobs shook his body. No longer able to stand he slipped to the floor and leaned against the altar table.

TVDTVDTVD

“Bonnie?” Katie asked, making Bonnie, who was standing in her and Elena’s college dorm room, turn to look at her. “How did I get here?”

“No.” Bonnie sighed, not answering Katie’s question.

“No what?” Elena asked, turning from where she stood putting clothes away in her dresser.

“It’s Katie.” Bonnie answered with wide eyes. “She’s dead.” Her words came out in a whisper.

“No. I can’t be dead.” Her eyes went wide. “Besides I’m human, why would I go to the other side?” Katie argued.

“You’re a reincarnation.” Bonnie pointed out.

“How?” Elena asked with wide shocked eyes as she walked over to stand beside Bonnie.

Katie thought about it for a second before she remembered. “The witches…” she whispered as she placed her hand on her neck. “They took my baby then slit my throat…” Bonnie told Elena then held her hand out for Katie to take and pass through her. “No.” Katie shook her head and took a step back. “I can’t go to the other side. Not until I find out what happened to my baby.”

Bonnie took her phone out of her back pocket and called Klaus. When the call went to voicemail after a few rings Bonnie hung up and tried again. He once again ignored it. “He keeps sending the call to voicemail.”

“Then keep calling until he picks up.” Katie pushed so Bonnie kept calling.

“Take a hint, love.” Klaus answered then hung up.

Bonnie called him back and he picked up again. “Don’t hang up. Katie’s here.”

“What do you mean?” he asked with a voice that told her if she was joking he would murder her.

“She’s a reincarnation. So I can see her.” Bonnie told him then put the phone on speaker so that Katie could hear him.

“Prove it.” He told her. “How much did I tell her I loved her this morning?”

Katie answered the question and Bonnie repeated. “More than all the grains of sand on the earth.” Bonnie paraphrased.

“Katie…” Klaus sighed.

“Ask him where the baby is, please.” Katie told Bonnie, but before she could relay the message Katie’s ghost disappeared.

“She’s gone.” Bonnie said with a look around.

“What do you mean she’s gone?” Klaus asked.

“I mean she’s disappeared and I don't know where she went.” Bonnie told him and Klaus hung up on her.

TVDTVDTVD

Katie gasped as she sat straight up on the table in the sanctuary of the church and looked around to see that she was alone. Her hand went to her blood crusted neck, remembering everything that had happened, the harvest girls pinning Klaus to the wall as she had the baby, holding her daughter while Genevieve slit her throat, then seeing Bonnie and Elena before she woke up here. “How am I back?” she asked herself as she slid off the table.

A woman walked into the church most likely to worship or to have a peaceful moment to herself. Instead her eyes landed on Katie, her hair clumped with sweat and blood wearing a dark grey, blood stained dress. “Oh lord…are you okay?” she asked as she rushed over to Katie, ready to help her. That’s when Katie realized she could smell the blood that coursed through the woman’s veins and the hunger that burned her veins.

“I am…so sorry.” Katie told her making the woman give her a confused look before Katie grabbed her and sank her teeth into the woman’s neck and drank a few gulps of blood then tilted her head back with a smile. This time when the pain of her fangs coming in pulsed through her mouth and sinuses she embraced it and the power and strength that came with it. She force fed the woman her blood then looked into her eyes. “Forget everything that you saw and everything that happened after you set foot in this church.”

As she walked out of the church and into the early morning light she looked down at her hand, happy she never stopped wearing her daylight ring. Then she realized she felt something. It was almost like her link to Elijah, but not as strong or detailed. It was more of a feeling than a link, but it was one that she needed to follow, so she did. When it led her to the cemetery she realized it was her daughter. “We’ve passed through here twice already.” She heard Elijah saying nearby. “We’re running out of time.”

She heard glass break before Klaus said, “Then we move faster.”

She whooshed to them. “Or you could follow me.” Katie spoke up as she walked into the tomb Elijah and Klaus were in. Both of them looked at her as if they thought they were hallucinating, but when Katie ran to Klaus and threw her arms around him he realized she was really there.

“How are you here?” Elijah asked.

“I don’t know for sure, I just know I woke up in transition, fed on some poor woman then found my way here.” Katie explained then pulled away from him. “I can feel her, I can feel our baby. So I need you two to follow me.”

“Lead the way, Little Phoenix.” Klaus told her with his hand held out to the doorway of the tomb.

They followed her straight to the three witches that were chanting around an altar, the baby lying in a basket of blankets in the middle of it. Genevieve had the dagger in her hand, raised over her head. “No!” Katie and Klaus yelled at the same time.

Elijah picked up a vase and threw it at Genevieve, knocking the dagger out of her hand. While Genevieve ran to retrieve the dagger, Monique and Abigail joined hands then held their other ones up, flinging Klaus, Katie and Elijah back. An army of ghost witches appeared between them and the two harvest girls. “You fools, to come against us in our place of power in our strongest hour.” Monique told them. “You don’t face three, you face us all.”

“You handle them. I’ve got her.” Katie told Klaus then ran in the direction she’d seen the dagger fall. She found it just as Genevieve was picking it up and kicked it out of her hand before she punched Genevieve twice. Thinking she had knocked her out Katie ran for her baby, but was stopped with a resounding pain in her head that made her stop and cry out and sink to the concrete on her knees. When Klaus threw a wrought iron spike from the cemetery fencing and impaled Abigail, the army of ghosts faded away.

Monique ran by Katie and grabbed the dagger. Katie managed to grab her ankle and trip her, but it didn’t do much good because Genevieve intensified the pain making Katie let go of the girl’s ankle. Katie yelled out in frustration as she fought against the pain, whooshed to Genevieve, grabbed her head and slammed it into the tomb beside them, knocking her out.

No longer in pain, Katie turned back to the altar to see Monique with the dagger raised above her head, but before Katie could even whoosh over to stop her, a throwing star was embedded into the young witch’s chest. Two inch cuts covered her body and blood slipped from her open mouth before she fell to the ground.

As her eyes followed the direction the star had come from she saw Marcel, who whooshed to the altar, grabbed the basket and whooshed away. Klaus gave her a look that told her to stay with Elijah then whooshed away. Katie walked over to Elijah looking like she was ready to break.

Elijah wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her into his chest. “You needn’t worry. Marcel would never harm a child.”

Katie pulled out of the hug. “Yet he bombed the bayou.”

“I believe Francesca has been biding her time, stirring things up, waiting for her moment to strike.” Elijah told her. “Regardless, Klaus will handle him. We have to take care of her.” Elijah told her as Genevieve started to stir. Katie whooshed over and grabbed Genevieve by her arms that she quickly bent around behind her back in a painful manner making Genevieve cry out. Katie brought her into a tomb and Elijah chained her up. “Why?” Elijah asked as he stepped back. “Was killing an innocent baby for more power really worth it?”

“Not just power. It was the ancestors’ decree. It was her decree.” Genevieve answered.

Elijah grabbed her face roughly in his hand, “It was whose decree?”

“I’m surprised you have to ask.” Genevieve laughed. “After all, you were the one who convinced your siblings to consecrate her in New Orleans soil.”

“Have I mentioned I hate your mom?” Katie asked from where she stood behind Elijah.

Elijah let go of Genevieve’s face in disgust. “So, not even death can stop my mother from seeking the annihilation of her own flesh and blood.”

“This isn’t the end.” Genevieve told them. “As long as that child lives, the witches of New Orleans will never stop coming for it. Ester will never stop coming for it. It has been decreed. Your baby will be consecrated among her ancestors. She will not live.” Genevieve started crying. “Tell Klaus I’m sorry.”

“Haven’t you figured it out yet?” Katie asked as she walked over to stand face to face with Genevieve and Elijah gave her space to talk to Genevieve. “Klaus never cared about you. I told you…Klaus…loves…me. He loves his family, but you…? You are nothing more than the woman who drove a wedge between him and his family and the pathetic, naive bitch that severely underestimated me.”

Blood replaced the tears that were freely slipping down Genevieve’s cheeks. “They’re coming for me.” she sobbed.

“I’ve been dreaming about doing this for months now.” Katie told her as she grabbed her neck in her hands. Genevieve’s eyes went wide as her airflow was cut off. “Allow me to save the ancestors the trouble.” She squeezed Genevieve’s neck until her head fell to the ground and her headless body, dripping in blood, went limp in the chains. She stretched her neck with a sigh and rolled her shoulders. “God that felt good.” When she turned around she saw Elijah looking at her with a concerned frown and when he looked down at her hands coated in blood and bits of flesh and bone she looked down at her hands, unaffected by the sight. Elijah whipped the handkerchief out of his pocket and handed it to her. She took it and wiped her hands as she walked past him headed to the compound.

TVDTVDTVD

Katie, now showered and wearing clean clothes, held her also freshly bathed baby in her arms as she rocked her in the chair in the nursery. “We should have felt our mother’s hand in this.” Klaus told Elijah where he and his brother sat in the bedroom. “We should have known she would not be bound by anything as obvious as death and now she has control of the witches. They will never stop.”

“No they will not.” Elijah agreed.

“Nor would I expect the Guerrera wolves to back down. Everyone knows the child can create hybrids and as such is a threat to the wolves and Francesca’s claim to leadership. She will never be safe.” Katie looked up from her daughter to Klaus. “What was it you said to me earlier, that I have made enemies every day of my miserable life? Well, the worst of them are within these borders, Brother.” Elijah sighed and dropped his head. “I have brought into the world a weapon they can use against us.”

“Then we will arm ourselves.” Elijah argued. “Brother, we have fought every adversary in this town, and we have won, and we’ll fight them again. No matter who they are. We will make this home a fortress.”

Katie frowned and looked down at her baby who cooed at her. “I will not have her live her life as a prisoner.” Klaus argued back saying what Katie was thinking.

“Then we leave here together, all of us.” Elijah tried.

“Wherever we go, however far we run, those who seek power and revenge will hunt us, they will hunt her.” Klaus pointed out. “She has inherited all our enemies with none of our defenses.”

“So whether we stay or we leave, we condemn her.” Elijah surmised.

The men got quiet, trying to come up with a solution. As Katie looked at her daughter’s blue eyes, chubby cheeks and her tiny hand that held her pinky, she realized if they wanted to keep their daughter safe there was only one thing they could do. Tears slipped down her cheeks at the thought of leaving Klaus and Elijah. “Katie?” Klaus asked as he walked over and kneeled by the rocking chair. “Are you alright, Love?”

“Yeah.” She sniffled and the baby jerked at the loud sound, but didn’t wake up. “I think I know what we need to do to keep her safe, but I don’t like it and neither will you.” Klaus and Elijah waited for her to continue. “Other than Marcel, no one knows this baby and I are alive and everyone knows our heads have been on the chopping block since we first sat foot in this town.”

“What are you suggesting exactly?” Elijah asked with a frown.

“She wants to fake their deaths.” Klaus guessed with wide eyes.

“Yes.” Katie agreed. “We can leave town and find somewhere safe to hunker down or we’ll stay on the move, whatever is the safest. We will stay away until the two of you fix this broken city and make it safe for the princess to return to her kingdom.”

Klaus sighed and looked down, trying to hold back tears. “You will need someone to cloak you.” he told her as he stood up and looked down at her. With the baby asleep Katie stood and laid her in her crib. Klaus walked over and stood beside her, looking down at his beautiful daughter. “But you can’t do it alone.” Katie looked away from their daughter to give him a questioning look. “Okay, you could, but you don’t have to. I’m sure Rebekah would love the chance to be a true aunt to her niece.”

“Is this really what we want to do?” Elijah asked and Klaus and Katie looked at each other then looked at him and nodded. “Then, I believe there are preparations to be made.” Elijah left giving Klaus and Katie a few minutes together before they started making arrangements.

“What happened to Nate?” Katie asked and Klaus’s eyes fell. “He didn’t make it, did he?”

“He was amongst those bitten and finished off by the Guerrera’s.” Katie sighed and rested her forehead on his chest as he wrapped his arms around her, rubbing her back comfortingly.

TVDTVDTVD

Klaus held their baby while Katie finished packing her bag. “So the witches killed me, the wolves killed our baby and Marcel has agreed to let you compel him to forget what he knows in exchange for vials of your blood?” Katie asked just wanting to make sure she had things straight.

“And Rebekah is on her way.” he added. “You and I will meet her on the outskirts of the city tonight. Also Elijah and I took our grieving public. There is now a picture of you and something to represent baby Mikaelson on the memorial wall the city’s residents have put together for the loved ones lost in last night’s so-called gang violence.”

Katie put a shirt of his in a zip lock bag making him give her a curious look. “Call me weird, but I can’t be away from you and not have something that smells like you.”

He smiled and shook his head at her. “There are a few things left on our checklist.” He pointed out with a look down at the little nameless girl in his arms.

“I thought something would come to mind when I saw her face, but…nothing.” Katie answered.

“Elijah said something to me this morning that stuck with me.” Klaus told her. “He said that you and our baby are this family’s hope. I think it's a fitting name.”

“Hope Dorothy Mikaelson.” Katie said, putting the names together as she slipped the back of her finger down her daughter’s cheek. “I like it. What about you, Hope?” The baby squeaked, making her parents laugh at her.

“I think she likes it.” Klaus said with a smirk at Katie. “There’s one thing I want before you have to go.” He told her as his smirk fell and he handed Hope to her then sat down on the foot stool and motioned to the rocking chair so she sat down. “I want to see you sing to her.”

Tears slipped down her cheeks and he reached out and wiped them away. She took a deep breath then let it out. “Hormones have nothing on heightened vampire emotions.” She sighed and Klaus smiled. She leaned back in the chair and propped her feet up in his lap. When she was sure she could sing without crying she started, “Midnight moonlight shining through the curtain lace paints a perfect picture on your perfect face. One sweet angel sleeping in my arms.” She kept her eyes on Hope as she sang, because if she looked at Klaus she would remember that this would be one of the last moments the three of them had together for a while. If she thought about that she would cry and she didn’t want to ruin it. “And you’ll never know how much we love you, but we’ll keep on loving you our whole life through. Now I believe in miracles and you’re the reason why. So dream on while I sing you my angel’s lullaby.”

When she looked up at Klaus she could see trails on his cheeks where he’d let a few tears fall. “Thank you, Little Phoenix.”

“You’re welcome, Big Bad Wolf.” She told him as they stood up and he placed a tender kiss to her lips. When it broke and they pulled apart, he saw that her true face was showing. “I swear your kisses taste better than they used to.” she told him with a smirk as she pushed back the urge to bite him.

“It’s time.” They heard Elijah say and they turned to see him standing in the doorway.

“What?” Katie asked with a look out the window to see the sun had set.

“Already?” Klaus asked as he too looked at the window.

Katie took in a deep breath as she laid hope in her crib then went to the vanity in the room and pulled three CD cases out. “I uh, honestly didn’t know if I would make it through this pregnancy in one piece, so as soon as Klaus gave me my studio I started working on these.” She handed one labeled with his name on it to Elijah then another to Klaus. “Most people probably would have just written letters, but that’s not me, so…” she shrugged then looked at Klaus. “Just keep in mind I thought I would be dead when these found their way into your hands.” She handed Klaus one with Baby M. written on it. “You might get more use out of this than Hope will. The song I sang earlier is on there.” With those handed out she grabbed the car seat and sat it on the foot of the bed while Klaus went for Hope.

Elijah held his arms out for the baby to say his goodbye and Klaus passed her to him. “So I hear your name is Hope.” He told the now bright eyed baby.

“We actually have you to thank for her name, Brother.” Klaus pointed out.

“Our family’s hope.” Elijah whispered recalling what he’d said to his brother.

Not wanting to, but knowing they couldn’t keep stalling Katie grabbed her bag and Hope’s and threw the straps over her shoulder. Elijah kissed Hope’s forehead then handed her to Klaus. While he put her in her car seat and strapped her in Katie went to Elijah. He took her hand in his and slipped his thumb over the infinity sign. When their eyes met she threw her arms around his neck not able to hold back her tears. “I’m gonna miss you, Button Pusher.”

Elijah laughed as she let go and took a step back. “This house is going to be quiet without you, Songbird.” He told her as he wiped her tears and she gave him a sad smile. She turned from him to Klaus who held the handle of hope’s car seat in one hand and the other out to her.

TVDTVDTVD

They were both quiet as they drove out to the middle of nowhere and they ended up getting to the agreed meeting spot before Rebekah. So while Klaus got out and took Hope from her car set, wanting to hold her as much as he could before they had to go separate ways, Katie made a bottle of formula then brought it to him where he leaned against the hood of the car. Words didn’t feel appropriate for the moment so she just leaned her head on his shoulder and watched him feed her.

Hope had finished her bottle, been burped and Klaus had his now free arm wrapped around Katie’s waist when Rebekah pulled up, got out of her car then walked over to join them. Rebekah and Klaus looked at each other with small smiles, a huge contrast to the last time they’d seen one another. “Hello, Sister.”

Rebekah looked down at Hope in Klaus’s arms and moved the blanket she was wrapped in so that she could see her face. “She looks like her mother.” Katie smiled when Rebekah glanced at her then back at Klaus. “Maybe there is a god after all.”

Klaus quietly chuckled as he looked down at his daughter. “Well, she has a hint of the devil in her eyes. That’s all me.” they all smiled before Klaus got serious. “You’ll need a witch you can trust to cast a cloaking spell.”

“We’ll find one.” Rebekah told him.

“No one can ever find her.” he replied.

Rebekah placed her hand on his arm. “I know what to do, Nik.” Hope cooed and they looked down at her. “Perhaps we’ll get a white fence. I think that will be lovely.”

Preparing to hand Hope over to Rebekah, Klaus moved her around in his arms to hold her in both of his hands facing him. “This city would have seen you dead, but I will have it your home, and every soul who wishes you harm will be struck down.” he whispered to his daughter. “Just as sure as my blood runs through your veins, you will return to me.” he kissed her forehead and cheek then passed her over to Rebekah. When he pulled the carved knight out of his pocket and placed it on Hope’s blanket Rebekah looked up at him with wide eyes.

Katie chose this moment to dismiss herself and grab their bags. She was putting them in the trunk of Rebekah’s car while Rebekah put Hope in a car seat that was already strapped into the back seat, when Klaus walked up to her and wrapped his arms around her waist. Losing the battle with heightened emotions Katie wrapped her arms around him and pressed her face into the bend of his neck, wetting it with tears. After a few long seconds she pulled back and looked into his watery blue eyes as he brushed away a tear from her cheek. “I had a plan, you know.” He told her as he took her hand in his, fiddling with the tiara ring on her finger. “During your three human days, I would propose to you. I was even planning on inviting Rebekah to the wedding. Then, after we were wed and on a night of your choosing, I would give you my blood, let you fall asleep in my arms and when you woke up I’d have a glass of fresh blood waiting for you to drink so we could spend the rest of our lives together, raising our daughter in our home surrounded by our family.”

His confession only made her cry harder before she pulled herself together enough to say, “I would have loved that.”

“Instead, as it tends to do, fate decided otherwise.” He told her as he slipped his thumb over her wet cheek. “But, I promise, one of these days you will be my wife and we will have our big happy village.” Katie threw herself into his arms, catching his lips in a kiss that told him all the things she couldn’t stop crying long enough to say. When it broke he pressed his forehead to hers. “I love you,” he pulled back and picked up the pendant of the necklace she never took off, “My Phoenix Queen.”

A smile pulled at the corners of her lips as she took his hand in hers and looked at the ring on his finger. “I know you have to sell your grief, but please, don’t ever take it off.”

“Never.” He answered.

She kissed him one last time then hugged him. “I love you too, My Wolf King.” She forced herself to let him go then got into the back seat of Rebekah’s car and drove away.

#the originals #t.o.#to the originals fanfiction #to fanfiction #the vampire diaries #the vampire diaries fanfiction #tvd #tvd fanfiction #klaus mikaelson #niklaus mikaelson #klaus mikaelson fanfiction #klaus mikaelson x oc #klaus mikaelson x oc fanfiction #klaus x oc fanfiction #klaus x oc #rebekah mikaelson #elijah mikaelson #marcel gerard

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unwhithered · 4 years

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Portamis "I envy anyone who has the pleasure to be loved by you"

Sorry it ended up Jedi!Musketeers because I’m fighting with that fic right now and it’s kind of all I can think about. Also, like, really long and full of pining. Idk.

A Jedi does not pout. So it’s a good thing Porthos is still a padawan, and long sullen silences and brooding stares - while frowned upon - are considered natural behaviors among human adolescents. Learning opportunities, rather than personal failings. Master Treville is not particularly impressed by this way of thinking. Neither is he impressed with Porthos’ ability to meditate and release his feelings into the Force - at least not these feelings. His solution only worsens Porthos’ foul mood.

“The outer rim? For how long?”

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t--” They rarely know, which is the only reason Porthos bites his tongue and redirects his glare down at his plate. He can’t help mumbling his displeasure to the pile of mashed potatoes. “They’re not even part of the Republic.”

“And yet they asked for our help, so we go. It’ll be good for you to get some distance from the chaos of Coruscant.” Treville’s gaze is heavy, as is the weight of his concern just at the edge of Porthos’ awareness. His Master is a serious man, a warrior-knight rather than a scholar, but Porthos knows by now to listen when he offers guidance. His Master has never led him wrong or left him to suffer without help. “And by the time we get back Aramis will have moved on from his latest infatuation.”

“Master.”

Treville snorts and shakes his head. “Do you think I am deaf and blind and cut off from the Force all at once, Porthos? You’ve been sulking since Aramis started chasing that Senate page, and his Master has been equally irritated with his increasingly ridiculous behavior.” The affectionate frustration he radiates in the Force only makes Porthos flush and look anywhere but at his Master’s knowing face. “Jealousy is unbecoming of a Jedi. Ah, do not lie to me by denying it. You’ve never been good at hiding your feelings, pup, not from me. You’ve been head over heels for that boy since he first took your hand in the creche. I thought you’d at least have the decency to do something about it by now.”

Porthos shoves his plate away, no longer hungry. What little he ate sits like a rock in his stomach. “A Jedi does not have attachments,” he responds flatly. But oh, he is attached. Attached in a way Aramis never has been, at least not to him. It’s not so bad watching him chase members of other genders, other species for meaningless flirtations and short flings - but watching him fall for a human boy? Porthos didn’t realize it would hurt so much to see that Aramis could love someone like him, without loving him.

“And yet here you are, attached to him, to Athos. And here I am, attached to you, and to my Master, and to my friends.” Treville spreads his hands in a universal gesture of helplessness. Thick, scarred fingers and calloused palms that Porthos has seen kill and coddle and hold the weight of the galaxy. The hands that picked him up at five years old and held him as Treville promised that he was not alone anymore, that there were others like him, and that he would be safe. The hands that have picked him up and dusted him off and put him back on his feet a thousand times since. “But I will do my duty to the Republic and the Order and above all the Force regardless of its impact on the ones I love. So will you, I hope. That is all the code requires of us - we may love, but only unselfishly.”

Porthos shifts uncomfortably under Treville’s hard gaze, finally making eye contact when his Master growls, “Look at me, Porthos. At the moment, you are being selfish. And stupid. And I won’t have either. That boy has been looking at you like you hung the stars for as long as I can remember, so either get your head out of your ass and do something about it before we leave for the other side of the galaxy or accept that you will never know what might have happened if you acted. Whichever you choose, do it out of my sight. You have two days to sort yourself out before our ship leaves.”

With that Treville pushes away from their small kitchen table, leaving Porthos with the dishes that they usually clean up together. He shoves them haphazardly in the washer and storms out of the apartment without any idea where he’s headed.

----

Without any conscious thought, Porthos’ feet lead him to the door of the apartment Aramis shares with Master An. He doesn’t even have time to raise his hand to knock before the door slides open and Aramis appears, only to stop short when he sees Porthos in the hall. Not answering because he sensed Porthos’ approach, then. Just a coincidence. Aramis’ smile is wide and pleased regardless.

“Porthos, what can I do for you my friend?”

“It’s, uh…” Porthos shifts awkwardly as he realizes that Aramis is dressed up, or as dressed up as a Jedi ever gets. His tunic and tabards have obviously been pressed and he’s wearing the blue cloak and sash that look so good against his skin tone. Clearly he’s going out to meet that boy. Again. “It’s nothing that can’t wait ‘til you get back.”

“No, no, I insist.” Aramis waves Porthos inside and directs him to the well-worn couch nearest the door, sinking down to sit opposite him on the edge of the low table. “I always have time for you. Now, tell me why you’re looking at me like...that.”

“No reason,” Porthos lies, badly. He’s never been good at it. Not in front of the people that matter, even though he can bluff his way through a sabacc game as well as any professional. “Just came to tell you Master Treville an’ I’ve been assigned to some backwater in the Outer Rim. Might be awhile before we’re home again.”

“Oh. Let me just...” Aramis frowns and immediately fishes his comm out of a hidden pocket, tapping out a message without ever looking away from Porthos. “There, canceled, now we can spend the evening together.”

“Don’t cancel your date on my account,” Porthos mumbles, looking at the floor guiltily as a small thrill of satisfaction bubbles in his chest.

“Dearest Porthos, I would cancel nearly anything on your account, especially when you’re about to leave me. Even drinks with a very beautiful man.”

There, the spike of jealousy Porthos has been wrestling with for two months rears its ugly head. He pushes it down violently - a very unJedi like response - and hopes Aramis doesn’t notice. Because he’s never that lucky, Aramis immediately leans into his space and fixes him with a concerned gaze.

“It’s not the mission that has you so upset. What is it?” Invading someone else’s mind without consent is a violation, especially among Jedi, but Aramis doesn’t have to go digging to discover what Porthos is feeling. They’ve shared a bond too long to hide the broad strokes of emotion from each other. “Is that,” Aramis’ eyes widen. Porthos looks away again. “Jealousy. But of what, or whom?”

“Don’t act like you don’t know.”

“I truly don’t, unless you want me to go poking through your head to find out.”

“No. I…” Porthos hesitates. Forces himself to look up, to face Aramis and the confusing ball of emotion he causes head on. “I am jealous of your company. You must know, Aramis. I envy anyone who has the pleasure to be loved by you. I always have.”

“Oh.” Aramis lets out a heavy sigh and his face does something complicated. And then, worst of all, he laughs. Even in Porthos’ cruelest daydreams he hadn’t imagined Aramis would laugh in his face. “You stupid, wonderful man. Do you not realize that no matter who else there is, I will always love you best?”

“Not like that,” Porthos growls, already halfway to his feet. Maybe Master Treville would allow them to leave early for their mission to escape this mortification.

Aramis stands as well, blocking his path and seizing him by the shoulders. “Exactly like that, you idiot.”

And then, somehow, they’re kissing. It’s not the first time, but it feels very different than when Aramis had suggested the three of them practice on each other as they fumbled their way into adolescence together. Aramis knows what he’s doing now and by the time they separate Porthos is no less confused, but reluctant to let Aramis go. Instead they hover nose to nose, close enough that Aramis’ long eyelashes brush Porthos’ cheek.

“I will always love you best, Porthos,” he whispers. “I was simply too stupid to realize you felt the same. You do, don’t you?”

Porthos answers him with a kiss.

#the musketeers fanfic #star wars fanfic #porthos x aramis #treville #prompt fills #sorry i apparently can't write canon musketeers today #me and my jedi musketeers #my fic #gremlinbehaviour

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cagestark · 5 years

Text

WinterIronSpider Ch. 2

Read chapter one here.

Story spurred by this prompt: There's a meme about a poor college student being robbed; the robber, upon learning just h o w poor, stopping and giving the (empty) wallet back and being sincerely concerned. "You... you live like this?" What if the winter soldier/bucky barnes breaks into struggling college student Peter parker's apt and all his pre-serum steve instincts are triggered by the state of the place and how /tiny/ Peter is.

Chapter warnings: dubcon/noncon discussed, not between any of the OT3.

A note: In the brief teaser I gave of this fic before I’d written chapter one, Steve had skipped timelines to live his life with Peggy. But that is no longer the case.

Tony stands lounging against the back of the sofa, watching the elevator doors. FRIDAY alerted him moments ago that Bucky and his guest had entered the building—those are the exact words she used. Bucky and his guest. He finds himself drumming his fingers against his legs, filled to the brim with fizzing carbon bubbles of energy. They’ve been dating for two years now, and Bucky has never brought anyone back to the Tower. He’s tempted to ask FRIDAY to bring up video feed, to get a glimpse of whoever Bucky is bringing home, but the elevator is rising, rising.

“Here, boss,” FRIDAY warns, soft, redundant.

“Quiet from here on out, baby girl,” he reminds her. She doesn’t respond.

Then the doors open.

His eyes go to Bucky first. He can’t help that. Tony will never get enough of him, spends an embarrassing amount of time staring out of the corner of his eye (or unashamedly when the other man is sleeping). Bucky’s hair is past his chin, wind-swept and tangled. He’s dressed casually with his dark jeans and t-shirt—Tony’s, it’s Tony’s t-shirt, he notes with a burst of warmth in his chest—his gloves on, the soft leather ones that Tony had custom made. He stance is guarded, from the low eyebrows to the hunched shoulders.

Tony glances down to the figure at his side and sees why.

It’s a boy, man, maybe, anywhere from sixteen to twenty-six, if Tony had to take a guess. The sad, tired eyes belie the youthful features, so it’s difficult to tell a specific age. He’s petite to an extreme (sickness? Tony wonders. Cancer?), dressed in what appears to be the common man’s version of his Sunday best—dress slacks, a collared, long sleeve shirt with cuffs that gape around his tiny wrists. Paleness verges on sallowness, skin tinged faintly green, lips faint white. But he’s handsome: sharp features, if a little too gaunt, dark eyes and dark curls that are still damp from a shower, or maybe the rain on the way over.

Then he spots it: the hero worship. The kid has stars in his eyes. Tony can spot a fan at fifty paces, the slack mouths, the wide eyes, the oh my god, you’re Iron Man! And it gets him, gets him like a knife between the ribs. He loves the praise. It flatters him, it waters his ego (which isn’t ever flourishing the way the press makes it out to be).

Coming from the right person, it makes his cock hard.

Tony knows he cuts quite a figure, even in his sweatpants, socked-feet, and tee. His hair is un-styled, soft the way Bucky likes it. He’s wearing the blue-tinted glasses that contain his latest AI, his latest baby—but he’s always wearing those these days, even when he doesn’t have EDITH active. He must look soft, relaxed, alien, because the kid looks like he’s seeing something from outer space and not upper Manhattan.

“Hey, cupcake,” Tony says, hands in his pockets, watching Bucky nearly carry the kid out of the elevator. His face is white as a sheet, mouth quivering. “Who’s this?”

“This is—” That’s as far as Bucky makes it before the kid swoons. His eyes roll, body going lax, a puppet with the strings cut. Bucky, quicker reflexes, catches him before his head can hit the tiled floor. Kneeling with the boy in his arms, Bucky gives a tentative smile that looks more like a grimace. “—Peter. He’s sick.”

Tony clutches his heart. “And here I thought it was just my influence. FRIDAY, diagnostics please. Give me some biometrics.”

“Scanning, boss.” Peter’s eyelids flutter at the disembodied female voice, but even if he is regaining consciousness, Tony doesn’t think he’ll remember it.

“Send it to E, Fri.”

No response, but the words appear in front of his eyes. Sex: male presenting. BMI: 16. Which is—yeah, that’s too fucking low. Temperature: 102.8 degrees Fahrenheit. His girl manages to narrow the age from 20 to 24, and she has more. The information goes on and on: he’s sick with the flu, it looks like, but now it has blossomed into the beginnings of pneumonia. Evidence of long-term vitamin deficiencies. A heart murmur—probably benign.

Gonorrhea.

“I got medicine for him,” Bucky says, holding up the pharmacy bag. There’s where Bucky used his card, then. “He took some in the car on the way over, and didn’t cough so much after that.”

“He’s got pneumonia, cupcake. Nothing over the counter will help that. It won’t help his gonorrhea either.”

“He’s got VD?”

Tony hums. “Can I ask what he’s doing on my four-thousand dollar leather sofa?”

“He’s sick,” Bucky says. “I thought you could help.”

“How’d you two know each other?”

“We met today.”

“How?”

“I—don’t want to say.”

Tony softens. Bucky’s skills of deception are honed enough that he could have lied without Tony being the wiser. In the beginning of their relationship, it was a serious problem: Bucky hiding things from Tony that he was worried would upset him. It’s taken a long time for him to know that he can keep secrets if he wants to, that telling Tony I don’t want to say would, under most circumstances, be enough to end the line of questioning.

“Alright. But I feel obliged to say this: there’s no legal way you could have met that I would blink an eye at.”

It’s Bucky who blinks, once, long and slow.

“You met illegally?”

“You’re getting very good at reading me,” Bucky says. Which is nice of him, considering there are still days where his lover seems like a closed book to him. “Could we, like, get him a doctor? Do you have a doctor who makes house calls? Do doctors make those, these days?”

“I’m rich enough to afford one,” Tony says. “And luckily, I have a very discreet one on container. Fri, ask Bruce to come by. Tell him it’s an emergency and to bring whatever he needs to treat pneumonia and gonorrhea—God, I wish I could see the look on his face when you tell him that. FRIDAY, take an image capture of Bruce’s face. Don’t think I didn’t notice you sidestepping the question, either, mister. We talked about your extracurricular activities—”

“I couldn’t leave him there, Tony,” says Bucky, voice tortured. “He’s sick, and he’s got no food, no health insurance. I don’t want him to go back there.”

While they’re waiting for Bruce, Tony wets a rag to put on Peter’s burning forehead. His eyes flutter, and he is looking less pale—no chance he’ll be out much longer. “Here’s a list of things that are acceptable for you to bring home with you: stray dogs, some of those pastries from that cafe we love, a downright egregious number of sex toys–actually, a few of those things I would even encourage you to bring home. But Bucky, baby, a stray human is not on that list.”

“I know that, but he–” Bucky cuts off.

“Yes?” Tony prompts. He lifts a hand, slow, fingers still damp from the washrag to tuck some of Bucky’s hair behind his ear. It’s getting longer and longer these days, and the other man doesn’t trust any professional to cut it. That leaves Tony for the job: Bucky shirtless in their bathroom, hair damp, split ends being carefully trimmed to rain down around their bare feet.

“He reminds me of Steve,” Bucky admits. “Before the serum. Small, and sick, and with a heart bigger than his stomach. I didn’t turn away then, and I can’t turn away now.”

Steve isn’t a name they mention often, not since Thanos. For Bucky to bring it up now shows how serious he is for this. How much it means to him. That’s all Tony needs to hear to be sold. He’d give Bucky the moon, if he could.

“My sugar baby wants a sugar baby,” Tony sighs fondly. “What does that make me?”

Bucky’s lips twitch. “A sugar granddaddy?”

Peter stirs. His eyes open, bloodshot, tender, honey-tinted eyes. They get wide again when they see Tony kneeling by the couch he’s resting on. He holds out a shaking hand, palm down, like he wants Tony to kiss his knuckles. “Mr. Stark,” he breathes, tongue thick and clumsy. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir.”

Behind him, Bucky snorts, the softest exhalation against his neck. Tony reaches out and takes the burning grip in both of his own hands. Peter is short for a man, certainly underweight, and though he has long fingers, they are thin and spindly, swallowed whole by Tony’s larger, tanned hands. The size difference between them makes him swallow—the size difference between Peter and Bucky? It’s—indecent. “The pleasure is mine, Mr. Parker.”

“Oh, call me Peter, please,” he says. The softness, the earnestness charms Tony.

“Peter, then.”

A coughing fit comes on, lasting until the younger man’s face is red and tears are at the corners of his eyes. Tony fetches him some water that he sips at. He blinks like he’s trying to focus his eyes. “Did I faint?”

“Gracefully, if it makes you feel any better. Welcome to Stark Tower, kid. Sorry the experience has been less than ideal.”

The younger man gives a dopey smile—more than likely high off of whatever he took in the car. “The only way it could have been better is if you’d caught me, sir.”

Tony fights to keep his twitching lips from blooming into a downright grin. Bucky’s face is red, the only indication that he’s holding back laughter. “I’m sorry to say that my days of being quick enough to catch damoiseaux in distress are about ten years behind me. Luckily, Bucky was here to act as my hands. Trust me, kid, he’s got nicer biceps to cling to anyway.”

“Oh, I noticed that when he helped me to the car,” Peter says, craning his head back to wave frailly at Bucky behind the couch. Seeing Bucky wave back, stiff and straight faced, is a sight Tony will cherish for many years to come.

The elevator opens. Bruce is there with his bag in hand. He looks like a man who is about to face the gallows—but at the sight of Peter sitting on the couch with the half-empty glass of water in his hands, his eyebrows raise. This could hardly be what he was expecting when FRIDAY told him to come to the penthouse floor.

“Hello,” he says carefully stepping into the room. “Someone rang?”

“Bruce!” Tony rises on creaking joints to greet the man. The warm hug takes the younger man by surprise based on the way he tenses, returning it hesitantly. Tony says under his breath: “He doesn’t know he has the clap, and he wouldn’t understand how I know. Proceed with caution.”

“What have you gotten yourself into?” Bruce mutters, patting Tony awkwardly.

“Oh, you know how it goes. In for a penny, in for a pound.” Then, louder: “Peter, this is Dr. Bruce Banner. Bruce, this is Peter Parker.”

“Pleased to meet you, Dr. Banner,” Peter slurs. He’s looking remarkably like a damsel with the way he’s lounging on the sofa, the back of his hand pressed to the cloth on his forehead. “Call me Pete.”

“You’re not looking well, Pete. Under the weather?”

“Uh-huh. ‘ve got the flu.”

Bucky and Tony stand back while Bruce pokes and prods the kid, taking his temperature, listening to his heart and lungs, interrogating him about his symptoms, medical history, and current medications. He examines the bottle of cold medicine that Peter drank from on the way over, face serious and stern. His diagnosis only backs up FRIDAY’s findings: atypical pneumonia, something most people Peter’s age would have been able to fight off alone.

“I’m prescribing an antibiotic to help you along,” Bruce says.

“Oh, I can’t afford that,” says Peter.

“It’s on the house,” Tony calls from where he and Bucky are setting the table for three. “Consider it complimentary—like the bottles of shampoos at hotels. Bruce, are you joining us? It’s Thai.”

“No, thank you,” Bruce says without offering an excuse. He packs up his back but leaves the antibiotic on the solid fiberglass coffee table. If Peter wonders why Bruce already had the antibiotic on him, he doesn’t question it, just stares at the bottle looking a little glossy-eyed. Bruce gives Tony a pointed glance. “That there is azithromycin, which could clear up a wide range of illnesses. But Peter should still be seen by a doctor who can perform a thorough examination. Understand?”

“Understood.” Tony salutes. He owes the younger man one; actually, a million ones, considering how many sticky situations Bruce has gotten him out of over the years. With nothing but a tense smile, Bruce sees himself to the elevator. Once he is gone, they turn their attention to the young man on the couch who is cradling the bottle of medicine to his chest like a drunkard might the bottle. “Hey Peter. Are you hungry? Do you like Thai?”

“Starving,” Peter says. “And I’m not picky, I’d eat anything. But you don’t have to go through any extra trouble for me, Mr. Stark. I’m just honored to be here.”

“No trouble at all,” Tony insists. “The food is already here. I hope that someone eats it, lest it go to waste. Need help making it to the table, kiddo? Bucky here makes an excellent chariot. Quite the ride.”

The look Bucky gives him might send a lesser man cowering: the perfect mixture of scathing and unamused. But when Peter does nothing but sigh and say, I’ll bet, the former assassin gets distinctly red around the ears. And that is an interesting development, in all of this. It isn’t a stretch that Peter would be attracted to Bucky (anyone with eyes would be), but for the first time, Tony wonders if Bucky’s interest in Peter isn’t entirely platonic.

Peter stumbles on the way to the table, giggles, buzzing off of the cough syrup he drank on the way over. Bucky is nothing short of a gentleman, stiffly helping Peter to a chair, offering him first servings from all of the boxes of takeout. Tony makes a note to himself: no funny business. The kid isn’t in his right mind—even on his best days, he’s obviously vulnerable. As cute as he is, the idea of the kid as prey turns Tony off entirely.

Over dinner, they make small talk. Peter and Tony do, that is. Bucky listens, thoughtful and solemn while he fills and clears his plate twice. A few times, he smiles, when Peter does something absolutely goofy—like missing his mouth with the fork and smearing food on his cheek—and the look he gives Tony is so fond, a shake of his head, like he’s known Peter all his life and is telling Tony, Get a load of this kid, always so silly.

“Bucky tells me money is tight for you,” Tony feels comfortable enough to bring up after the plates are cleared, boxes are emptied, all of them reclining back in their seats, bellies full and sated.

Peter looks sleepy, eyes half-closed. He nods. “It is. I applied to NYU when my aunt and uncle were still alive. They said they’d help me pay for it, since my parents weren’t alive to help themselves. I got a scholarship that was going to do the rest, and everything seemed great my first few semesters. Then they passed away. I tried the work-study program, but there are limits on how many hours they’ll work students. So I worked a few other jobs too—but it just made everything worse. My grades slipped and I lost my scholarship.”

“Jesus,” Bucky mutters. “You’re one unlucky kid.”

“Look—Peter. It’s no secret that I’ve got more money than I know what to do with. Bucky here has taken a liking to you—” Peter gives a soft aww, looking so tender and touched “—I hope that you’ll let me help you out with some expenses. Get you back on your feet and focusing on your studies. How does that sound?”

Peter hums, one hand resting on his rounded stomach. “Mr. Stark—it sounds like a dream. Honestly. I’ve had like, three different dreams with hot older—uh—wait—what was I saying—”

“No, please, go on.”

“I just mean—I want to say yes.” His face grows serious, the thin, pretty mouth down-turned, a furrow between his eyebrows. “Not having any money—being poor, I guess—it’s really hard. And I know that I’m luckier than a lot of people. At least I’m not sleeping on the street. At least I’ve got, got clothes and stuff, you know. At least Mr. Rumlow lets me suck him off in exchange for rent. But my aunt and uncle, they didn’t raise me to—”

“Sorry, Pete, let’s back up,” Tony says. On his respective side of the table, Bucky has stiffened. He sits, stoic, hands clenched into fists on his lap, staring down at his empty plate. His jaw is a sharp enough weapon without it being clenched tightly enough to grind his teeth. Tony works hard to keep his own expression neutral and unalarmed, even though he feels nothing short of horrified. “Who is Mr. Rumlow?”

“Mr. Rumlow is the super. He runs the Lafayette Hall.”

“And you’ve got an arrangement with him.”

Peter hums, nodding. He coughs a little, and they wait, still like statues for him to continue. “I was late one month with rent. Single room apartments are so expensive. Mr. Rumlow was real understanding, though.”

Bucky gets up, chair screeching against the floor. He mutters some excuse and stalks to the balcony, opening the doors and stepping out into the wind. It’s starting to mist, and Bucky looks like a phantom haunting the building, a handsome gargoyle dressed in black, hair dripping, standing perfectly still with his hands on the railing. No doubt with his enhanced senses, he can still hear their conversation, but at least with his face turned towards the city, he can react however he needs to.

“It sounds like it,” Tony says, heart clenching. “Is that—something you like?”

“What’s not to like?” Peter asks. Something about this must be reaching through his drug induced fog, because his eyes are a little wider and more alert; perhaps, the haze of the cough syrup is fading. He sits up a litter straighter in his chair. “Free rent, Mr. Stark.”

“I mean to ask (and forgive me, kid, tactfulness is not in my DNA) if you’d engage Mr. Rumlow that way without the—ah—benefits.”

“Probably not,” Peter says. He looks down at his dress pants. The knees of his khakis are faded, worn, and he rubs at the spot anxiously. “He’s not really my type. But sometimes it does make me feel less lonely. Is that bad?”

It’s terrible. It’s heartbreaking. It’s illegal in New York. It’s immoral—the nerve of a person to take advantage of another’s financial vulnerability and coax them into prostitution—it makes Tony want to explode. But that’s not going to benefit Peter.

And that’s certainly not how Tony is going to get even with this Mister Rumlow. “No,” Tony says, soft. “I don’t think that’s bad.”

“Mr. Stark?” Peter asks, blinking slowly. “Could you call me a cab? I’m—I think I’m about to fall asleep on your table. It’s a nice table though. I’m sure it’d be very comfortable.”

“I’m sure that it wouldn’t, kid. I could call you a cab if you want. We’ve also got spare rooms here at the Tower, though. Why don’t you stay here tonight, take your first round of antibiotics and stick around for Bruce to be close by in case you need him?”

Peter turns pink, tickled at the offer. “You’ve already been so nice—I couldn’t—"

“You could. Like the Thai food, kid—if you aren’t enjoying those organic cotton sheets, then no one is. In the morning, we can talk more over breakfast. How do you feel about waffles?”

That sells him. The kid already looks hungry. “Alright. If you insist. Is Mr. Bucky okay? He’s been gone for a minute.”

“Mr.—” Tony laughs long and loud, unable to stop himself even as Peter’s face turns red. Out on the balcony, Bucky hunches over, and Tony thinks that maybe he’s laughing too. Smiling at least. Because the kid really is too fucking cute. “You can just call him Bucky. Formalities make him nervous. How about we check out the meds Bruce set you up with and then find you a room?”

“Sounds great,” Peter says. He’s the picture of contentment. “But I don’t have any way to repay you for all this, Mr. Stark.”

“Tony, kid. And don’t worry about it; I’m not looking for reimbursement.”

“I could suck you off,” Peter says, a little breathless. Coy, looking up at Tony through his eyelashes—only, no, that’s not coyness, it’s shyness. And instead of turning him on, the offer makes his heart break. “It works for Mr. Rumlow.”

“That doesn’t work for me, kid. Thanks, but no thanks.” He helps Peter out the chair, but with food in him, still feeling the benefits of the medicine he took, he is much steadier. Once he’s sure that the kid won’t tip out, Tony gives him space. He feels like a creep, thinking how adorable the kid is when obviously other people have seen it to—and abused it.

“In the morning, can I put peanut butter on my waffles?” Peter asks.

“You can put caviar on your waffles for all I care, kid.”

“I’ll stick with the peanut butter, thanks.”

After Peter has taken his first dose of antibiotics (and spent several long minutes ooo-ing and aww-ing over the guest room), he asks if he could speak to Bucky for a moment. Bucky is still on the balcony, soaked and unmoving. If he hears Peter ask, he doesn’t show it. Tony waves him ahead, standing back far enough that he knows he’ll have no chance at overhearing. Let Pete have his privacy.

Bucky is pale and solemn when he turns, blinking rain out of his eyes. The railing is twisted where he hands have been, but Tony doesn’t think that Peter notices. They exchange brief words, and then Peter hugs Bucky, wrapping thin arms around Bucky’s waist, resting his head against Bucky’s broad chest. They look like yin and yang. It’s art, he thinks. FRIDAY, image capture, please. The tenderness with which Bucky lifts a hand to cradle the back of Peter’s head is—God. Tony loves him.

When Peter comes back in, Bucky is on his heels. Peter’s shirt is wet from where he pressed against Bucky, and his cheeks are flushed, maybe with returning fever. Maybe. “Goodnight, Mr. Stark,” Peter says.

“Goodnight, kid. You need anything, just step out of your room and shout. Bucky here is a light sleeper.”

That makes Peter’s face turn even pinker as he bobs a nod and then disappears into the guest room, closing the door behind him softly.

“Are we, like, fucked over this kid?” Tony asks, jerking a thumb towards the guest room.

Bucky just shakes his head, and that’s all the answer Tony needs.

Tips not required but very welcome. Leave behind a prompt and I’ll write you a drabble in exchange. <3 Ko-Fi is here.

Tag list: @shinycreatoroafbonk @kkomusume @bound-vivisection @sorgmantel @phoenixwench @latenightsintherain @bros-before-ghosts @starkerthanreality @richieleeparker

If you want tagged please let me know. Not tagging my current starker taglist because since this is winterironspider, I wasn’t sure if you’re interested. <3

#winterironspider #winteriron #starker #chapter two #wip #poor!Peter

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