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amonrawya · 3 years

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The Greatest Gift of All

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(Inspired by^ for the people who asked :D hope it was worth the wait!)

Long before the war, before Captain America or the Winter Soldier, there was simply Bucky and Steve. At least, that's what history says. But they missed out one very important person, a girl called Y/N.

Women in those times often found themselves with little opportunity, and only two easily attainable pathways in life: wife and mother. But Y/N carved out a life for herself that defied all expectations, and it all started in Brooklyn.

She dived headlong into scuffles, usually next to Bucky in defence of Steve. Regardless of the opponent, Y/N stood by them both, and often held her own quite impressively.

Her dress style borrowed from more masculine cuts, and Y/N was never seen without her cap. A lot of people had a problem with this, but she shut them up fairly swiftly.

Everything about this girl drew Bucky in, a battle he fought with little effort. They reveled in each other, flaunting their love at every opportunity. More than a few were jealous that the rough and tumble girl got the best looking boy in town.

In a way, before even coming of age, they started an adult life together. The three of them moved into a flat. Y/N and Bucky took hard labour jobs, or anything they could get. They had little room to be picky.

Both managed to hook steady summer jobs at the local docks. They used most of their money to keep a roof over their heads, buy food, and pay for Steve's medical needs. He attended art school, and sold his work every now and then; but physically, he was in no condition to work.

The war appeared on the horizon, just as they started to pull themselves an inch above the poverty line. Y/N saw it coming, the inevitable. She treasured every second they spent together, and dreaded the day when the draft came.

A lot of the older women she worked with were disrespectful, looking down on her pre-marital relationship with Bucky. They claimed she couldn't possibly understand their grief, despite the fact Y/N had seen Bucky off at the docks that very morning.

In truth, they already planned on being married, but at the time, they simply didn't have the funds. Bucky promised, once the war ended, that ring would be on her finger.

Except, he never came home. Not properly. The person Hydra gave back to Y/N was damaged and jaded, angry at the world, angrier than she ever saw. But still, they loved each other. Though she never forgave them for stealing away his innocence, for trying to snuff out the light in his soul. A part of him would always belong to them, and she hated it.

Refusing to stay home while they risked their lives, never knowing, Y/N trained as an army nurse, working specially with the Howling Commandos unit.

Then one day, she went out to welcome them back from a mission. Every face looked devastated, but none more so than Steve. His eyes, red-raw and streaming, seemed incapable of rising from the ground. At first, the realisation didn't process, the idea simply incomprehensible. He promised.

Dugan was the one to finally break through and catch Y/N as she fell, holding her as the tears poured. Once he shook off his daze, Steve took his place, sharing in her grief.

Her world fell apart so quickly, with no warning and no mercy. Their commanders celebrated the capture of Arnim Zola, while Y/N and Steve sat, staring at an empty place at their side.

Everyone mourned Bucky, and swiftly after, began to mourn Y/N, too. The loss took a part of her...the sparkle, the happiness, the laugh that lit up her face. It all vanished. She worked hard, looked after them all, but only Steve was able to make her smile. Even then, it looked pained.

So when Steve went down with the plane, the very last shred of Y/N died with him. No tears left her eyes, no screams ripped up her throat. A cold numbness took over, freezing the woman from the inside out.

V-Day came and went. The Commandos stood and drank to their lost comrades, and Dugan silently drank another...for the loss of a bright, fiery girl who had virtually nothing to lose, and still lost everything.

She spent her days as a robot, doing nothing but going through the motions of badly imitating life. The flat was empty and quiet, yet somehow, bursting with the ghosts of her loved ones. Nightmares plagued her, terrible images of Bucky's body, forever trapped in a freezing hell, nothing but food for the birds. And Steve, his body...was it cast adrift in the ocean? Or destroyed, burnt to ash in the belly of a metal beast.

They were simple folk before the war turned them into soldiers, into weapons. Before symbols and flags stole away their names, driving them to sacrifice their lives for a greater cause.

Y/N knew their fight against Hydra was important...knew the honour behind their sacrifice. But when it's you left sitting at an empty dinner table, it's much easier to be angry and bitter.

She never married, never settled, bouncing around countries working as an army nurse. The Commandos slowly died around her, each one fading to grey as the curtain drew the show to a close. Each death, each funeral ripped open her wounds, bigger and deeper each time. Until eventually, Y/N let the blood flow freely.

Or at least, that's what would have happened. But one choice, one decision, made by a boy she thought dead in the far future, changed it all.

Bucky Barnes struggled to find himself again. His memories were mostly all returned, if a bit hazy and fragmented. He had Steve there to right any wrong recollections, and connect with on their shared experiences. But something always seemed to be missing, a piece of the jigsaw that hadn't been found.

He remembered Y/N. He remembered her clearer than anything. She was glowing like honey in the sun when Bucky closed his eyes and brought her back to mind.

Face covered in muck, hair tousled and streaked with grease from the boats, soot on the very tip of her nose and a cap perched jauntily on her head; wearing the deepest expression of concentration as she aimed a hanful of rotten fish guts at the sleezy Connell boy from Fifth, who decided his opinion on her backside mattered. The image shone crystal clear. Her laughter, rolling out from between curved lips, beautiful and full of mischief.

It never failed to make him smile. Or cry. Or sometimes, both. He missed Y/N than he thought possible for a human being.

Bucky often wondered about her life, whether she went on to marry, or maybe even have children. Was she happy? Did she bury him and move on? If they met today, would Y/N even recognise the man he was now?

More importantly, in his mind, something he both feared and longed to know: would she still love him?

Unbeknownst to Bucky, Steve saw all this. Understood, to a degree, his pain. But he and Peggy never got the chance to bond so strongly. He knew Bucky needed him, but Steve also knew he needed Y/N more.

So once his goodbyes were said, he looked one last time at Bucky, and smiled beneath his suit as he vanished into time.

The living room looked exactly the same as he remembered. Bucky's coat, slung over the back of the chair, his sketchbooks strewn around the desk. Every rip and chip. His heart swelled with nostalgia, and pain, thinking of the life they were supposed to have.

What must have been in their heads...running off to fight, so eager to throw everything away. And who was left to stare at empty beds and eat breakfast alone every morning? Y/N.

His chest constricted, hearing the keys in the door, the lock rattling three times before letting her in. His nerve faltered for the briefest second, wondering if he was ready to see her again.

"Who the hell are you?!"

Time's up.

Slowly, he turned, and watched as Y/N's eyes widened, all the bags in her hands falling to the floor with a crash.

"...Stevie?" The name came out as a whisper, nearly inaudible.

He grinned, laughing as tears stung his eyes. "Hey, spitfire. Long time no see."

"Steve!" She launched herself at him, arms wrapping around his neck and clinging on for dear life.

Catching her by the waist, he swung Y/N around, burying his face in her hair. They held onto one another as if they might vanish if they let go. But after a minute, Steve gently pushed her back.

"How? How are you here? What are you wearing? I don't understand, Steve, they said you died! Your plane went down in the ocean," she stammered, hand on his forearm with a grip like a vice.

"I survived. The serum kept me alive in the ice for seventy years," he said, questioning his own sanity momentarily; standing in the flat again made everything that happened seem like a distant dream.

Y/N frowned, brows knitting together. "What? Did you hit your head? Steve, this is 1945."

"I know, I came from 2023. I'm alive," he said, and saw her mentally backing away, so added, "I'm alive, and so is Bucky."

Her head snapped up, eyes immediately filling with tears. A dozen emotions whizzed through them in a second; disbelief, pain, hope. It shone clearly in her face as she stepped closer.

What did you say?" She asked, voice choked as she brought her shaking hands up to her mouth.

"Bucky's alive," he repeated softly, "and I can send you to him, in the future. But we don't have a lot of time. You need to listen to me, carefully, and do what I say."

She spluttered, struggling for words. "I, but...what about you?"

"I've made my decision," Steve said, and gently took her hands in his, "now, please, listen."

Bucky watched the machine, feeling a wave of numbness wash over his insides. Nothing was a better deal than the pain, the cruel sting of betrayal fighting to be felt. But he beat it back, unable to allow those thoughts validation.

Steve gave up so much for him, he fought for years to get him here. Steve deserved this. And no matter how wrong those words sounded in his head, he resolutely stood by them.

The seconds ticked by, noted by Bruce's countdown. A flash of guilt almost made Bucky explain what was going to happen, explain that Steve left them. Left him. But he possessed no energy to speak, they'd see in a second, when no one appeared-

Zap. A blinding flash of light.

There's someone there.

Bucky frowned, hands falling from his pockets. Did Steve change his mind? Did he...

All the thoughts in his head stopped as the figure stepped down. Too small, too lithe for it to be Steve. Bucky's heart rate quickened, something in his unconscious already registering his recognition.

The suit fell away, and if he weren't frozen in place, Bucky wouldn't have been standing. A quiver shot through him, nearly buckling his knees. Shock, fear and pure disbelief all delayed his reaction.

Y/N looked around, amazed, but turned to stone as she set eyes on him. Her face went utterly blank, a strangled sound leaving her lips.

Wearing her yard slacks, with a small bag on her shoulder, her face covered in dirt, hair streaked with grease, cap perched on-top, slanted to one side...she was everything he remembered, and his heart tried to leave his chest to go to her. To be whole again.

But fear held him back. She didn't know the things he'd done, the person he became after the train accident. What if-

"Who is she?" Sam asked, glaring as he stalked towards her, an accusation rising on his lips.

Bucky answered without hesitation, or thinking; the question had been asked countless times over the years. It always recieved the same reply. "My doll."

Sam stopped short, glancing between them, the way neither took their eyes off the other. He nodded, brows still closely knit, and backed off.

Slowly, Y/N approached, encouraged by the sound of his voice. She reached out carefully, when she got close enough. Trembling fingers brushed his cheek, and a shudder ran through her.

"My Bucky..." She said quietly, eyes roaming over his face, a small smile tugging at her lips, "...you're here, in front of me. Alive."

He swallowed dryly, heart thundering away beneath his skin. "I'm different...you don't know..."

No sooner had the words left his mouth that her eyes found the cold metal where his flesh used to be. In reaching to hold it, she'd been taken by surprise.

Gently, Y/N took the hand in her own, examing the limb with a careful gaze. Moments passed, and she met his eyes again. Bucky steeled himself for rejection, for the disgust and horror.

Her hand went back to his cheek, and he involuntairly leaned into it. The warmth seeped into his blood. She stood on her tip toes, the smile on her lips blossoming into a bright beam of sunlight. "You've always been my Bucky, and always will be. Metal appendages and all."

He fell apart and dove down to capture her lips, clutching her to him with the hunger of a starving man. She pulled herself in, hands tangling in his brown locks, and both tasted salt on the others' lips.

So filled with joy his heart could burst, Bucky revelled in the feeling of holding his girl again. Laughing through the tears, he buried his face in her neck.

Thank you, Steve, for the greatest gift of all.

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margarethelstone-2 · 3 years

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if I loved you less (i might talk about it more)

requested by one and only @nerdypanda3126. thanks so much!

Read on AO3!

"Taichi... You still like me, don't you?"

The young man in question raised his eyes from the book he'd been trying to read for the past quarter, and fixed them on Chihaya, confused. It wasn't just the question that surprised him, even though its content sure would have been enough to puzzle a better prepared soul.

The fact that Chihaya had barely spoken at all for most of their time together today was the main reason why he felt startled by her words now.

She really had been quiet for most of the day, even though they were spending it at his place, determined, as she herself had claimed, not to get in the way of his studies. Taichi had tried to make her realise that it wasn't what he wanted at all, that the very reason he'd invited her over was to get a break from all the reading and just relax a little. He'd explained over and over again that he needed her to be a distraction; tried – unsuccessfully – to get it into her head that she was actually doing him a favour. He knew how much of a workaholic he could be and so he specifically planned the visit as a means to enforce the necessary break he might not have taken otherwise.

He had told her all of that. And yet, she'd remained quiet.

All the way until now, that is.

And just what on earth was she going on about?

"What's with that question? You know the answer to that," he replied casually, almost dismissively, before going back to the textbook in his hand. He really had no idea what had gotten into her all of the sudden, but then again, he didn't care to delve on the subject. He knew she'd tell him anyway.

"I was just wondering," she answered, a trace of hurt ringing in her voice; Taichi needed to hold back the smile that sprang on his lips at the sight of her pout. "Is it so bad if I do?"

Taichi hummed in thought.

"Is that why you've been so quiet all day?" he asked right after. "You've been just busy considering my possible affection for you?"

"Stop with the mockery. I'm thinking of it seriously."

"Oh? And what conclusions did you come to?"

"I wouldn't have asked if I'd come to any."

He had no choice but to close the book and put it away after a statement he'd just heard. Not that he minded. Throwing it on the floor rather carelessly, he sat up straight in his corner of the couch and, resting his chin on his palm, he fixed his gaze on the girl seated by his desk on the other side of the room.

She really was being impossible today.

Well, he supposed that wasn't anything new. He'd known Chihaya long and well enough to not be fazed by the swings in her mood or the inane schemes she so often came up with. He had learnt to expect the unexpected, every day, every hour of his otherwise boring life, because that was obviously the only way to keep up with her. The one thing he had to keep doing if he still wanted to be a part of her life.

Because that was how Ayase Chihaya was.

Chihaya. His best friend. His fiercest karuta rival. The girl he'd been in love with since fourth grade of primary school and the girl who'd rejected him straightforwardly at the very beginning of their third year in Mizusawa High. The girl whom he'd thought he could never win over, on whom he'd given up again and again, fooling himself he could move on and blight the love he'd had for her since he'd been a ten year old squirt.

He sighed and shook his head, remembering her question from a moment before.

She knew damn well he was still head over heels for her.

She was his girlfriend, for sanity's sake.

"I can't believe you actually have asked, you know," he picked up with the same fake weariness he'd shown before, if only to cover his growing amusement. Seeing her very real anxiety made him assume a more solemn expression, as he asked, "Seriously, what brought this on? Are you mad about something?"

"I'm not mad," she disagreed instantly, and with good emphasis.

"Are you unhappy then? Did I do something to make you feel like that?"

Again, she denied. Now she just looked sad. "That's not it."

Wrong. She was flustered.

"Then what is it?" Taichi asked, as gently and warmly as he could. Not for the first time, he felt grateful for all the hard training his patience had received. It was obvious that Chihaya needed that from him now. "It's not like I could get over you like this, you of all people should be aware of that. You're the most important person in my life. The best companion I could think of. You know I get lonely and grumpy when I can't see you, and you know I still get absurdly jealous, even though I hate being so. And so I can't help but think there's something else I'm not doing right."

Taichi stopped there, waiting for her to, if not answer his question, then to contradict him in one way or another, at least. After all, he really was at a loss.

He thought he'd been doing a fairly good job as a boyfriend, when all was said and done. He'd already shared Chihaya's most important interest and it wasn't difficult to at least understand the new ones she'd found. He made sure to be there for her when she needed him, and tried his best to give her space when she needed that more. True, he'd had some trouble coming for help on his part, but even that was a thing of a past rather than present – certainly not something that could shock Chihaya into thinking like this.

He would think that the all-day-long date he'd come up with and seen through in celebration of their first anniversary as a couple last week was a good show of how much he still cared.

He wasn't perfect. Neither was she. But never in his life would he have thought that he'd failed to get his feelings across.

"Chihaya," he prompted once more, his voice audibly quieter. "Please tell me what it is. I can't fix it if I don't know what's broken."

She looked up from the floor she'd been glaring at for a while and met his gaze, a shadow of unease still clouding her big brown eyes. She opened her mouth to answer; she closed it instantly and looked away again, abashed. There was a hint of pink on her cheeks, and it only grew darker as the time passed, though whether it was because of embarrassment or something more alarming, Taichi couldn't tell yet.

"Chihaya–"

"It's because you never say it."

He supposed his eyes opened wider than ever, what's with the utter astonishment he felt growing inside him immediately. For a few moments, he could do nothing but stare, the craziness of the situation overwhelming enough to successfully prevent him from forming a sensible thought, and much less coming up with any kind of solution. One look at Chihaya was enough to sober him up, however.

She was distressed. She was insecure.

No matter how stupid he thought the reason to be, he could hardly allow the situation to last.

With a groan that was bound to startle her, he bent over and buried his face in his hands.

Only one thing he could do now.

"Come here," he said, his face still hidden behind one hand as he tore the other one away and beckoned her towards him. "No excuses. You'll talk later. Now just come here, please."

She did, albeit tentatively, as if afraid of the reaction he might show her. With his patience starting to run thin at last, Taichi didn't wait for her to cover the whole distance, instead reaching out and grabbing her by the wrist, only to pull her down on the couch right next to him.

And then he pulled her even closer, locking her in a bone-crushing hug.

"I'm gonna do something to you," he mumbled into her hair, his voice a mixture of laughter and complaint. "You cruel, cruel, woman. Have you no heart? Here I am, mind reeling as I try to figure out what the hell I did wrong again and you say it's because I don't say I like you enough. As if you didn't already know you've got a firmer hold of my heart than I ever did. Tell me, am I really this bad at showing you that I care that you doubt it?"

It was Chihaya's turn to growl at him, though it surely – and fortunately – didn't stop her from burying her face even deeper into his chest and digging her fingers into the shirt on his back. Again, Taichi laughed at the display, but didn't loosen his grip one bit.

That silly, unbelievable, most beloved girl.

"This and that are different things," she muttered finally in response against his buttons, her stubborn indignation probably being the only reason why he could discern the words at all. "There are different kinds of love languages. We even talked about it, you know."

"Yes. And as far as I remember, we've already established that neither of us cared for this one. So your argument doesn't work."

Well, this was a lie, or at least, it wasn’t fully true. After all, he could never get tired of hearing her say those words, to him and him only. But he didn't need it that much, not when he already knew of so many other ways in which Chihaya expressed her love towards him. He'd always assumed it was the same for her, too.

Funnily enough, he still didn't think he was mistaken.

"I've had feelings for you for the past fourteen years, you dummy, I wouldn't change my mind just because you decided to return them," he threw in only half-jokingly, as if to make sure he got his point across before moving onto the next part. "So? Care to tell me what's the source of it all?"

He felt her tense against him for a split second, only to relax in the next moment with a long, weary sigh. He waited for her to make herself comfortable in his arms, shifting ever so slightly to make it easier for them both. And then he heard her speak.

"I met up with Kana-chan the other day," she admitted weakly. "Her and Desktomu. And I guess... They're always so sweet with one another, now more than ever. I suppose... It made me feel a little jealous. But most of all, it just made me think."

"And you decided that I'd fallen out of love with you, because I don't talk like Komano does?"

"I didn't decide anything, I told you already. I just wondered if maybe I was doing something wrong to deserve that treatment. Sorry for being so terribly scared of losing you again because of my own foolishness."

Words caught in his throat as Taichi tried to protest against this new development. That last addition Chihaya had made – and more importantly, the wounded, truly uncertain voice with which she'd spoken – would have been enough to melt his heart even if he had actually been angry with her. Right now, he had to hold back from grabbing her by the chin and kissing her senseless until all the idiotic ideas evaporated from her overworked mind.

The things she did to him without as much as trying.

You evil little imp.

"They're newly-weds. You can't use them for reference," he managed to stutter out at least, conveniently ignoring the hoarseness of his own voice and the emotion that hovered behind it. "Not to mention, those two are the opposite of us when it comes to talking about feelings openly. There's a reason they got together six years before we did. Just because something works for them doesn't mean it's the best course for us to take as well."

He smiled again and planted a kiss at the top of her hair, before adding, "I still can't believe you really doubted me, though."

She huffed and pulled away, although she still didn't move from her place on the couch. They were still close; close enough for Taichi to see the light reflecting in her eyes and the blush that hadn't left her cheeks, and to reach out and comb her tangled hair with his fingers. Another gesture so full of love, even though it was but a fraction of all that she made him feel.

"Well, since I never understood what had made you fall in love with me in the first place, it's only natural that I'd have this kind of doubts."

He chuckled and she smiled on her part, her obstinacy giving it to the desire to just be with him. It was another thing Taichi was able to read in her eyes – and, knowing the feeling well enough from his own experience, he had no trouble deciphering it.

Delayed, the first part of her sentence entered his brain.

What made me fall for you, I wonder?

He didn't know. It had been so long since he’d realised his feelings after all, and longer still since those feelings had been born. Even all those years earlier, he probably wouldn’t have been able to point out the reasons clearly, never mind finding the one spark that had started it – trying to do so now seemed downright impossible.

There were so many reasons, after all.

Maybe it was because she had never considered herself a possible love interest for anyone, first when she was too engrossed in karuta and later, when she thought she didn't deserve to be one. Maybe it was her hot-headedness and her drive, and how different she'd always been from him, and yet never failed to tell him how much she'd admired and envied those qualities of his that she lacked.

Maybe it was the fact that she'd always been with him, so close and so dear and yet so impossible to grasp.

Maybe it was because she'd loved him long before either of them dared believe that was the case.

Maybe...

"Maybe," he said out loud, though in fact not loud at all, his lips moving against her forehead as he leaned in to put a kiss there, too. "Maybe, if I loved you less, I might be able to talk about it more."

Edging away, Taichi saw tears gathering in her eyes. He wiped them away with his thumb, his hand cupping the side of her jaw fittingly.

And then he kissed her properly.

Just like he had wanted to ever since he'd first seen her that day.

#one-shot request #chihayafuru #taichihaya #mashima taichi #ayase chihaya #margaretwrites

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bill-y · 4 years

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INURE

Peeta Mellark x Reader

[ We all know who Katniss Everdeen is, but what if Primrose hadn’t been chosen but another boy from another unfortunate family? YOUR family. ]

Info: This is basically a reader insert and I’ve changed a few rules, not ground breaking though. The reader is a bit bland for now but I plan for his actions to be different. Because he has different moral grounds from Katniss and such. Would appreciate feedback! FEEL FREE TO POINT OUT TYPOS. GRAMMARLY SOMETIMES DOESN’T DO MY DYSLEXIC ASS JUSTICE

Part four: Click here, rooroorara shooty shooty vang vang

Part five: You're right here, silly!

Part six: Click here, war criminal of 1878!

Wattpad acc: L0calxDumbass

The moment the anthem finished, we were taken into custody. It's not as if we were cuffed or anything; a group of Peacekeepers simply marched us through the front door of the Justice Building.

Each year, at least one of the tributes tries to escape; I've never seen one successfully do so.

Once inside, they put me in a room. It's the most prosperous place I've been to. With a thick carpet in the ground and a weird couch made of fabric, I've never seen before.

It was a strange texture, almost like the weird fuzzy stuff in deer's antlers. My father called them velvet; was this the same thing? If so, that's a bit gross.

Despite this, I still caressed the couch; it was oddly comforting. Almost like you're patting a nearly hairless kitten. It switched from smooth to rough each time I ran my hands through it.

Then I remembered that we only had an hour to say goodbye to our loved ones before leaving for the Capitol. I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath in. I didn't want to cry at all; the cameras were trained on me. I'm sure the Capitol would eat my tears up.

The first people who came in were my mother and my brother. Kunal let out a sob as he ran towards me, practically throwing himself onto me. I hugged him, staying silent as he buried his face into my neck, afraid that if he let go, I would disappear.

But I needed to break it one way or another. "Mother," I called, my voice detached. Her green eyes met mine, her lips quivering. I gulped down my spit, taking another deep breath in. "Do you. . . Have any idea on how you'll support yourselves. . ?" I asked.

Her eyes landed on the thick, red carpet. "Not as of now," she answered grimly, "But Katniss' mother offered me some work at the apothecary,"

My arms around my brother tightened. Maybe Gale and Katniss could bring them some of the game as well, though I wouldn't count on it. Why would they help us when they have other things to worry about? It's not as if I could teach Nal how to hunt either. The boy's frightened by his own shadow.

All he's good for right now for picking flowers as much as I love him. A sigh escaped my lips, my chest falling slowly as the reality sunk in.

"Well, you must think of something," I told her, my brows furrowing. "I'm not going to come back; I won't be able to support you and—"

"No!" she barked, "No! You will come back, Y/n." she proclaimed, her eyes shaking. She clenched her, fists, "Swear that you will."

Bitterness rose within me. "Tell that to the Capitol, mother," I said coolly. "If I die, then I—." My words were cut short by the sobbing of my brother.

He sniffled, pulling away from my now wet neck. "You'll win, won't you?" he croaked, wiping his eyes with the sleeves of his reaping clothes.

I felt my heart stop; what was I supposed to say to him? "No, Nal. I will surely die, don't count on it," a lump formed in my throat.

My eyes landed on my mother, who gave a stern look. It told me to lie, if not for her sake, then for my brother's. With shaky hands, I held my brother's shoulders. "I'll make it out; then we can— gather some flowers in Victor's village, yes?"

Nal nodded, hugging me once more. I took a deep breath before I started explaining what they should do. With mother possibly getting a job at the apothecary, perhaps they have a chance to survive, after all. Though I'm not sure, that's such a pleasant thought with the fact that I will die.

Soon enough, a Peacekeeper was at the door, telling them their time was up. I gave Nal a hard squeeze before pushing him off. My mother nodded at me; her strawberry blonde hair bounced as she did so. "I love you both,"

The words were stuck in my throat; I couldn't say them. Maybe it was because of my strained relationship with my mother or because I hated the fact that I had just given my brother a false sense of hope. I simply watched as they walked away, hand in hand.

Nal's watery blue eyes looked back at me one last time, a look of sadness. He knew I was lying. I sounded unconvinced when I told him. My posture slumped; I felt horrible. Our maker is siis merely, I suppose.

The next visitor was unexpected; Peeta's father, the baker. My gut churned; I was off to kill his son soon. Why has he come to visit me? Perhaps he has come to beg me not to kill his son? Not that I could either way, Peeta was stronger than me: it was clear as day.

He handed me a small piece of parchment. It was filled with warm cookies. A delicacy. He must've visited his son; after all, why would he just me cookies? I was about to die anyway; why feed a dead man?

I let out a huge breath, "How was the squirrel?" my voice pierced through the thick silence. He shrugged, "Alright," he answered. Then another wave of silence hit us. I sniffed awkwardly, the scent of fresh bread entering my lungs.

I couldn't think of anything to say. What was I supposed to do? ApoloApologisebe, but I never really liked apoloapologisingee no need to. If I'm sorry, then I'll show it. We sat in awkward silence before the Peacekeepers told him his time was up. He stood up, clearing his throat.

"I'll keep an eye on the little boy, make sure he's eating," He stated before leaving. I felt the pressure lift from my chest. They may not like me much, but Nal was practically an angel to them. An angel born in a family of rebels, I'm guessing, is their thoughts.

The next guest then entered. Madge. Her expression wasn't weepy nor evasive, nor did she wear that bright smile she always had when she was around me. It looked urgent. She walked straight to me, the urgency in her tone quite surprising, "They let you wear one thing from your district in the arena. One thing to remind you of home, will you wear this?" she holds out a circular gold pin that was on her dress earlier.

My brows furrowed, "Your pin?' I said. Does she really to die wearing rich-people-things? That hasn't even crossed my mind. . .

"I'll put it on your tunic, alright?" She said, not waiting for my answer as she leaned in and fixed the bird on my chest. "Promise me you'll wear it to the arena, Y/n. Promise me," She took my hand, her thumbs rubbing the back of my own.

Compared to Peeta's, hers was cold yet soft, almost as if she was nervous, worried. But why would she? I barely talk to her; she's the one who always strikes a conversation. All I do is nod and disagree at certain times.

She leaned closer to my face; I gave her an uncertain smile, pulling away. "Thank you, Madge," I muttered. She nodded, letting go of my hands. "Please, stay safe," her voice trembled as she rushed out of the room. I was left standing there, confused. What was that? Why did she visit me despite my rudeness earlier?

Next was Gale and Katniss. I didn't hesitate to hug both of them before pulling away with a sigh. "Hey, you'll be fine," Gale reassured, patting my shoulder. I stayed silent, only nodding. Katniss gave me a pity smile, "I'm sure it would be fairly easy to get knives, Y/n."

A sigh left my mouth, "I know— I just— Don't want to—" I stammered, making a stabbing motion with my hand. Gale gave me a pitied look, "It's just like hunting, Y/n. You're the best hunter we know," he said.

"They're not animals. They think; they're armed." I reasoned, my voice trembling. Why did I have to feel these emotions now? Maybe reality has finally settled in, the truth that I'll never see any of these faces again. On the off chance that I do, I'm sure they'll view me differently, a cold-blooded murderer.

"What's the difference, reale said grimly. Those words echoed in my head as they went away with the Peacekeepers. What is the difference? We're all just feral dogs forced to fight or cocks pit against each other.

I took a deep breath as I got called to ride a wagon to the train station. It was a relatively short ride. We never really had the luxury of these; we always had to travel by foot.

I silently thanked myself for not crying; there were insect-like cameras trained onto my face. Thankfully, I knew how to act, to bite my tongue. If I hadn't, I'd probably be screaming profanities. My eyes glanced onto the television screen; I look bored. Which, I surprisingly was.

It was as if my spirit left me already.

Peeta Mellark, on the other hand, had obviously been crying. However, he didn't even try to hide it, which was quite odd. Was this his strategy? To appear weak and vulnerable to assure the other tributes that he was no threat? This worked for a girl from district 7. Johanna Mason.

She seemed frightened, a cowardly fool that no one bothered about her until only a handful left. She then killed them all, with no problem whatsoever. I remember watching this game, quite shocked. She sold her act to me, but then again, maybe I'm just oblivious.

This worked for her because she looked frail, weak. Peeta applying this strategy was quite odd. Not only did he not look soft, but he was also jacked. He just looked like a big doofus. All those years having bread to eat and hauling trays made him physically capable.

Annoyance rose through me when we had to stand by the train's entrance while cameras gobbled out images up. I was sure I no longer looked bored but rather pissed. It wasn't like I was about to put on a pretty smile for them. These jester-dressed-worms should know how I feel.

Finally, we boarded, and the train began to move at once. The speed took my breath away. It was going faster than I could ever think of. The scenery around us just blurred—a mix of the neutral colour palette that made up District 12.

We were taught about coal in school. Some basic maths and reading before it circled back to coal again. Our district was used for coal mining, even hundreds of years ago.

Then there are the weekly lectures about the history of Panem, which never fails to annoy me. It's all blather about how we owe the Capitol because of the rebellion and whatnot.

I knew they're hiding something; we couldn't have lost that easily. I always think about this whenever I'm up in the trees, daydreaming, which is why I'm always the last one to arrive at the hill.

The tribute train was much fancier than the room at the Justice building. We were given our own rooms, a dressing area and private bathroom with cold and hot running water. We've never really had hot water readily available at home; we had to boil it.

Though I can't say, I like it, with all that effort I just end up not liking the bath. I much prefer the cold, flowing current of a river.

There are drawers filled with fine clothes, and Effie Trinket told me to do anything I want, wear anything I want, everything is at my disposal. Just be ready for supper in an hour. I peel off my father’s tunic and take a cold shower. I’ve never had a shower before. It’s like being in the rain, inky much tamer. I dress in a dark green shirt and pants, trying my hair to the usual, small pa

At the last minute, I remember Madge’s little gold pin. For the first time, I get a good look at it. It’s as if someone fashioned a small golden bird and then attached a ring around it. The bird is connected to the ring only by its wingtips. I suddenly recognise it—a Mockingjay.

Funny little birds, my favourite creature in the forests, that's for sure. These were a slap to the Capitol's face. They genetically altered animals as weapons. Muttations as we call them, or Mutts for short. One particular kind was a bird they labelled Jabberjay, able to memorise and repeat whole human conversations.

Homing birds, exclusively male that were released into regions where the Capitol’s enemies were known to be hiding. After the birds gathered words, they’d fly back to centres to be recorded. It took people a while to realise what was going on in the districts, how private conversations were being transmitted. Then, of course, the rebels fed the Capitol endless lies, and the joke was on it. So the centres were shut down, and the birds were abandoned to die off in the wild.

But they didn't die; instead, they mated with the female mocking birds and produced this weird species that can replicate both bird whistles and human melodies. They've lost the ability to enunciated words but could still mimic a range of human vocal cords.

My father used to sing them a lot. I guess he passed that habit down to me. Whenever I'm not doing anything, I find myself singing to the hummingbirds, who surprisingly listen and replicate my Father's song. It was a simple melody, made of 10 notes at least.

It warmed by heart, especially at times where I miss him. I smiled, fastening the pin to my shirt, the dark green as its background.

Effie came to collect me. I followed her through a narrow, rocking corridor into a dining room. There's a table where all the dishes are highly breakable. There waiting for us was Peeta Mellark, the chair beside him empty.

"Where's Haymitch?" Asked Effie Trinket brightly.

"Last time I saw him he said he was going to take a nap," said Peeta. "Well, it’s been an exhausting day," said Effie Trinket. I think she’s relieved by Haymitch’s absence, and who can blame her?

Food came in courses. Though I barely touched the carrot soup, the chocolate cake, lamb chops nor the mashed potatoes. I wasn't going to eat this, not from the Capitol.

My jaw clenched as Effie told me to eat up, smiling brightly at me. I gave her a pained smile, slowly taking a bite of the lamb on my plate before swallowing it roughly.

A swirl of guilt formed in my stomach, was I eating really this luxurious food whilst Nal and mother struggle? I sighed, digging my nails into my palms.

Peeta looked at me oddly as he stuffed his face, he nudged my side and nodded towards the food. I simply shook my head, pushing the plate away.

Effie put her lips together at my stubbornness. She was muttering something about having no manners.

We go to another compartment to watch the recap of the reapings across Panem. They try to stagger them throughout the day so a person could conceivably watch the whole thing live, but only people in the Capitol could really do that since none of them has to attend reapings themselves.

One by one, we see the other reapings, the names called, the volunteers stepping forward or, more often, not. We examine the faces of the kids who will be in our competition. A few stand out in my mind.

A monstrous boy who lunges forward to volunteer from District 2. A fox-faced girl with sleek red hair from District 5. A boy with a crippled foot from District 10. And most hauntingly, a twelve-year-old girl from District 11. She has dark brown skin and eyes, but other than that, she’s very like Nal in size and demeanour. Only when she mounts the stage and task for volunteers, all you can hear is the wind whistling through the decrepit buildings around her. There’s no one willing to take her place.

Last of all, District twelve. It showed Nal getting called and me volunteering. The commentators weren't sure about what to say regarding the silence. I only smirked at this, crossing my legs in amusement. Just in time, Haymitch fell from the stage, earning a comical groan from the commentators.

Peeta silently took his place on the stage; we shook hands and then just cut to the anthem.

Effie Trinket is disgruntled about the state her wig was in. "Your mentor has a lot to learn about presentation. A lot about televised behaviour."

Unexpectedly, Peeta laughed. "He was drunk." He said. "He's drunk every year."

"Everyday," I added, finally breaking my silence streak with a smirk. Effie makes it sound kike Haymitch just had rough manners that could easily be dealt with.

"Yes," She hissed "How odd you two find it amusing. You know your mentor is your lifeline to the world in these Games. The one who advises you lines up your sponsors, and dictates the presentation of any gifts. Haymitch can well be the difference between your life and your death!"

Just then, Haymitch staggers into the compartment. "I miss supper?" he slurred. Then he vomits all over the expensive carpet and falls in a mess.

"So laugh away!" said Effie Trinket. And so I did, I barked out mocking laughter as she hopped in her pointy shoes around the pool of vomit and fled the room.

Word count: 2974

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@nin3s

#hunger games x reader #hunger games #hunger games x male reader #male reader #male reader insert #peeta mellark x male reader #peeta mellark x reader #peetamellark #x male reader #gale #male x male reader

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madmiriam · 3 years

Text

My Mando (Din Djarin) /oc's backstory idea (includes alot of rexsoka shipping)

Warning!! : I can't spell for toffee and Tumblr deleted all of my proofreaders edits. Obviously she doesn't want to do it all over again so I've had to make do.

(a clan of three by madmiriam (Me)

We all love the mandalorian, Din Djarin is so sexy as single dad and we all love him for it. But this makes it hard to write and engageing original character to go with this perfect specimen of a man, one that we can really connect with. Well I have a salutation, to connect with a character it helps if that character is also connected to a character/characters that you already know and love. So I give you my original character Jaig.

Look:

Like the picture above, originally I wasn't going to have Din and Grogu in it at first but I have a habit of making life difficult for myself, so your welcome.

Personality:

As an adult, she's calm and patient and has a sarcastic sense of humour.

As a child, she has a bubbly personality, a contagious smile, and an insatiable curiosity.

Strengths:

she finds it difficult to truly hate anyone, no matter what they've done, she proffers to look at the reasons behind the actions of others before jumping in for revenge, that's not to say she doesn't get angry at people, but her anger is not fuelled by hate. She has been fully trained in the use of weaponry, such as guns, granaids and other such, and has had a small amount of training with a lightsaber when she was younger. But afters a experiencing a tragedy at the age of 9 she hasn't touched one since, she proffers the us of DC hand guns. She is also a fairly good pilot and mechanic.

Weaknesses:

back when she was a child she had a hard time using the force when when overwhelmed. If the thoughts and feelings of others got to much, she would become force blind. When she grows older, (for certain reasons you will find out later on in. This story) she completely cuts herself off from the force. Unless her emotions get to much go handle, then the force would almost explodes out of her. She also doesn't do well when she's alown. Having grown up in various large family atmospheres. If she is not around people she cares about and loves, she will become closed off a dipressed.

Back story: (now bear with me, this storyline is set before she meets Din, its just an introduction to this character)

Jaig (due to her small Jaig eye like markings, and her father's personal connection to the simble) is the daughter of ex jedi padawan Ahsoka Tano and her mate/husband Captain Rex. She looks mostly human like her father, with the same amber eyes and his family's dark hair. But with the same facial structure of her mother, and a slightly darker and olive tinged skin tone. She also has distinct white making that were almost identical to her mother's. Except instead of diamond shapes on her forehead, she has jaig eye like markings. She was born 6 years after the clone wars ended, while her parents were on the run from the empire. Rex and Ahsoka had found it impossible to part from one another after the events of order 66, and after travelled from place to place avoiding the empire for a long time. Their feelings for one another grow, and they eventually married through the use of mandalorian marriage vows.

They built a home in the stars, and after a few years, to their great surprise and happiness they conserved and had Jaig. Things were finally looking up with the birth of their new found hope for the future.

(Their new found hope for the future/baby Jaig by madmiriam (me)

But it was not to last. It was hard enough to hide themselves, a clone and a ex jedi from the empire. But now adding a force sensative baby to the mix as well, it made it damn near impossible for them all to stay together. Which; after a terrifying encounter with one of the Empires Inquisitors, forced them to make the difficult decision to part ways. Rex would head off insearch for a new home and hopefully find and de-chip as many brothers as he could. While ahsoka would keep traveling around the stars with Jaig. Avoiding the empire and its ruthless inquisitors, whilst trying to help Jaig build up her Shields. They both agreed to keep in touch and once Jaig's Shields were up and safely secure,(which for the average youngling would take 5 years or so) they would rejoin each other and dicided what to do next. But a year after their separation Rex's comms and messeges had stopped all together, and by the time Jaig had reached the age of five and had built up some suitable shields around her mind, neither she or her mother had herd from her father in over 4 years. Her mother was adament he was still alive, but as she grew older Jaig had a hard time believing her. For if he was alive why hadn't he come to find them? Why was he not answering her mothers messages that she still sent on a regular basis?

By the time she was 6 her mother was approached by Bail Organa, in regards to starting a rebellion, and that is what they spent the next 4 years working towards, staying in the shadows gradually building up a resistance to eventually overthrow the empire.

She and her mother met the ghost crew when she was 9 (the same age Anakin had been when he was found by qui gon) and after an uncomfortably close encounter with a mysterious Sith lord called Darth Vader, Jaig's mother disided it was time to bring her father into the fold, and sent Jaig of with the ghost crew to find Rex.

When meeting her father she had opted to wear a scarf to cover her face markings and, chose to withhold her name, and who she was until she found out more about the man who was her father. She was apprehensive about him. As she had no memorie of her dad, for she was only a baby when he left. The only thing she did have, was this warm comforting feeling that she felt whenever her mother spoke of him. A feeling of being held to a large ferm chest in two equally large and ferm muscular arms. Wrapped in a soft wool blanket. Her mother told her that this was the force making an imprint on one of the more emotional moments of her like. But all the same, she proffered to be cautious.

After spending some time with Rex and his bothers. She found her self really enjoying there company. Aspecially her father's. Who dispite having no idea who she was, had already shown that he had a clear paternal instinct. Particularly when teaching her and Ezra how to fish for "Big Bongo". However Kanan who clearly didn't trust Rex or his brothers had spent most of his time hovering around ether her or Ezra protectively, eventually telling them about his exspirence with order 66, an event her mother never talked about.

After seeing the heartbreak on her father's eyes at the memories he and Kanan spoke of. She desided it was time to tell him who she was. But that decision was cut short however when she overheard Rex telling Ezra that he wasn't going to come back with them. Even though he now knew her mother was alive (1 year after separating when the message's stopped he thought both his wife and child to be dead) Jaig ran of in tears when hearing this. She climbing down the ladder of the the AT-TE and walked ferther in front of the walking monstrosity. Away from everyone else. She had finally gotten used to the idea of her father coming back with them. Had become exited by it even. But now, the fact that he was refusing to come with them. Back to his home, his wife, to her. It hurt and overwhelmed her, more than she could say.

She didn't however see what happened after. When Sebine came out and acused Rex of selling them out, of contacting the empire and never answering Ahsoka's messages; at which point he finds out about how Wolfe had withheld all the messages from Ahsoka for 8 years. Thinking he was protecting his brothers from a potentially vengeful jedi. Rex was furious at Wolfe for hiding his own wife's messages to him, and coursing him to miss so much of his only child's life.

Rex: "we have a daughter Wolfe!!! My Jaig, my baby girl doesn't even know who I am because of you!!!"

Wolfe:(was shocked and full of regret when hearing this) "I.. I.. Didn't know... Rex I'm sorry, I didnt know"

Ezra:(recordnises the name) "wait Jaig? you meen our Jaig, Jaigs your daughter?"

Rex: "wait what?"

At this point they hear a shrill scream coming from down in front of the AT-TE. It was Jaig, she was being attact by the prob droid that had been sent by the empire.

The clones immediately go into action. Rex is handed a rifle and gets ready to shoot the prob as it backs his daughter into the ground. His ames and shoots true, killing the droid with one foul shot and then quickly dashes down to retrieve his daughter from under the sparking remains of the droid.

Jaig is in hysterics at this point. Having been taken by surprise by the droid along with the emotional turmoil of potentially losing her father all over again. She then resigned herself to just sit there and cry over how foolish she was for even seeing the attack coming. But now she was being held in the familiar strong arms of her father as he held his only child for the first time in over 8 years.

Rex: "I'm here sh shh, I'm here Ik'aad senaar (baby bird, a nickname he gave her as an infant) daddy's here, daddy's got you"

He says carefully stocking her familiar dark brown hair (that was now flowing free as her scarf had fallen loosely around her shoulders, revealing her beautiful face to her father who's eyes were now brimming with unshed tears) to calm her down as he picking her up and takes her back to the AT-TE. Where the others are waiting with bated breaths. Wolfe was holding a blanket out to wrap his shacking niece into and Gregor quickly dashing off to get her a hot chocolate hoping to make her feel better.

Jaig: "I was angry. Upset. You said you weren't coming home and, then everyone felt so angry and scared all at once. It was to much. (sighs) I have a hard time controling the force when I get overwhelmed like that. I couldn't even sence the prob. I'm. I'm sorry"

She exsplans after she sits down and has a few sips of the hot chocolate that had been placed in her hands. Accompanied a number of comforting back rubs from both her father and her uncles.

Wolfe apologies to her. Explains that he's the reason her father had been out of her life for so long. That he was just trying to protect his brothers but ended up hurting his other family because of it. And tells her he understands if she hates him.

Jaig: "your Wolfe aren't you? Uncle Wolfe? Mum (she has a slight clone like accent that they haven't noticed before) told me about you, said you worked with Grandpa Plo"

Wolfe: 😳"Grandpa Plo? 😂 Boy he would have loved to have herd you say that"

He said, both of them smile at each other, Jaig having forgiven her uncle for his laps in judgment.

All seemed well again until the empire calls them back to get the clones to hand over the rebels. The clones now fueled by the new found need to keep their new family out of harms way, tells the empire where they can stick it, and quickly try to usher the ghost crew along with Jaig into the phantom so they can escape While they all get ready to fight.

Jaig: "but I just found you, mum told me to bring you home, I can't leave you behind, da.. Please don't go"

She says clutching at his shirt as he huged her tight before holding her out to face him,

Rex:"no one's abandoning anyone. Jaig look at me (tilting her head to look. Into her eyes, eyes that matched her father's) we're soldiers Ik'aad senaar, this is what we were born to do, but this time we have something to fight for.. Its going to be OK, (presses his forehead against hers) I love you my Jaig eyes, I've loved you from the I first held you. Ha you were so tiny. I didn't want to let you go back then and I don't want to do it again now, but like last time it's something I have to do, to keep you safe, my Ik'aad senaar, (kissed her forhead lovingly) tell your mother I'm sorry I couldn't make it home, and... And I love her ok."

He says before sending her back into the phantom, closing the door behind her before she can stop him.

Things then pan out like it does in the show, the phantom goes back to help the clones take down the walkers and Rex then decides he's not gonna spend any more of time away from Ahsoka and Jaig and choses to return with them and join the rebellion.

The reauion between Rex and Ahsoka continues the same, but insted of just a hug Ahsoka goes in for the kiss (how it should have always been in my opinion).

(this art work was done by @nottonyharrison (please note: this image was used with the permission of the artist,) please go check them out, as you can see their art work is stunning)

They spend most of there time with the ghost crew, Ahsoka makes the Ghost her base to return to after missions, and Rex teaching combat and war strategies to both Ezra and Jaig, but mostly to Ezra, Jaig was; in his opinion still to young to get to deep into the oncoming war.

Rex:"let her be a kid for a little longer at least".

Jaig and Ezra had eventually become good friends, Jaig looking up to him as something of an older brother, following him every where he went like a little shadow. At first Ezra was annoyed, and try to get away from her at every turn. But after a while he found he quite like having someone look up to him for a change. As before her, he had been dubed the baby of the group with the most to learn. But now he had Jaig hanging on his evey word like it was gold. He found he enjoyed the new found responsibility.

Unfortunately with her shadowing Ezra so much. This meant she got into all kinds of trouble with him. Trouble that mostly involved them running down the corridor with an angry Zeb chasing after them. Zeb really didn't seem to like Jaig very much. Said it was like having two Ezras, and one was quite enough. However other trouble also included a short but terrible trip to malachor, where after being told she can't come along she choses to stow herself away on the phantom in the small rashon hold built into the floor, shielding her mind from her mother as they flow through space.

Ahsoka: (on a call to Rex) "well I definitely out rank you😉... 😟How Jaig doing?"

Rex: "welp she's not happy, she gone and hidden herself in one of thoughs little critter caves again, I'm making her favorite tonight so I know she'll show up by dinner time, but all the same😔..."

Ahsoka: "hay don't take it to heart Rex, you and I both know this is how she deals with being left behind for anything, she finds a small place to hide and sulk it out, just be ready with a plate of nuna and a hug and she bounces right back😄🙁 when she comes out tell her I love her, and I'll be home soon"

Rex: "I will🙂😟... May the force be with you" they hang up.

It's Ezra who ends up finding her, just after they land. Pointing her out to a stressed out Kanan and a very cross Ahsoka,

Ezra: "ummm guys, I think we have a stowaway",

Jaig: "before you get mad..... consider being proud of me, I stayed still for hours in there AND I shielded my mind the whole time, so you non of you even knew I was there"

Ahsoka: "DON'T push it young lady😠what were you thinking!! Your fathers gonna be worried sick!!!! 😤😔 welp since there's no turning back now, the sooner we get this over with, the sooner we can get you back home and thoroughly grounded for a year"

The rest again plays out the same, they find Maul, Maul blinds Kanan, they get the sith holocromb but lose Ahsoka in the fight with Vader, though after seeing Jaig who looks so much like the little snippy girl from his old life, the Anakin in Vader hasitates to kill ahsoka and her child, and insted trys to convince the unwavering togruta to join him with her daughter.

Vader:"the galaxy shall never be safe for her Ahsoka, join me and I can protect her from the emperor. Join me and we can over throw him... Together"

Ahsoka: "how can I trust anything you say. If you were truly Anakin then how can you protect my daughter when you can't even protect yourself"

Jaig: "MUM!!!! MUUUMMMM!!!"

Ahsoka looks at her daughter running to her as the walls of the sith temple come down,

Ahsoka :"I'm sorry Jaig"

She say quietly as she force pushes he child into Ezra outside the temple as it fall around her and Vader out of the site of her family.

When all is quiet and Vader emerges from the rubble, after failing to find his former apprentice, the Anakin in him vows that he will not fail her child, he will do everything in his power to insure his master never find her, even if he has to hide her away himself to do it.

When Kanan, Ezra and Jaig return to base, Rex is in hysterics asking around.

Rex:"have you seen Jaig? Has anyone seen my baby?, its been over two days.. I can't find her..!!."

Jaig:"DADDY!!! 😭"

Rex turns to see her running out of a newly landed phantom in tears. Now knowing exactly where she'd been he quickly runs to her and scoops her up in his arm clucking her close to his chest in relief that she was home.

Rex:"you.. Are going to be the death of me, hey sh shshsh hey, hey what's the tears? what happen? where's your..? ."

(a father's comfort, ruff drawing by madmiriam (me)

He couldn't finish the sentence as he looked around and sure two other people emerging from a now empty ship, neither one of them was his wife. Ezra looked him in the eyes and with out saying a word, he knew. He knew Ahsoka, his Ahsoka was gone. He closed his eyes, sheding one silent tear as he held his girl tighter, and slowly carried her away, away from the crowd, but not away from the heartache.

After the loss of her mother, Jaig's once bubblie personality had diminishes somewhat. She refuses to leave the side of eather her father or the members of the ghost crew. She goes on a few missions with them and liston to every word her father says about ways of fighting, fighting to protect herself and the people she loves. Before heading to a mission on geonosis he gives he one of his old DCs. (its twin had been lost in battle during the clone wars and he had gotten a replacement pear, but he had always kept his first well maintained in case he ever needed it)

Rex: "I know it's no lightsaber, but if will keep you and the others safe when used properly"

Jaig: "I don't want a lightsaber any more, 😔sabers get you killed"

Rex: " not all of them Ik'aad senaar" he sighs kissing her forehead "not all of them".

But even this would not last. When it came time for the empire to attack chopper base. Vader sends his own secret troops of undercover purge troopers to find and retrieve Jaig, and to also fake her death so both the empire and the rebels would not come looking for her. This of corse left Rex in his lowest point yet. After watching the ship he had put his daughter on to be evacuated blow up before it even left the ground. He found it hard to not simply drop all his defences and just calming walk into the flames after her. If it hadn't been for Zeb he probably would have. These kind of thoughts invaded his mind so frequently after that day, it was hard to remember when they didn't. He had lost both his wife and now his child. His hope and his reason for fighting were gone, and he wanted to go after them. But he couldn't. Not while there were still people to fight out there, the people who took everything for him and was still grabbing for more. People who his wife started this whole rebellion to fight against. No, he would keep fighting, as long as there is still even one imperial still left alive he would live and fight, until every last one of then were wiped out of existence. (that's gonna take a while)

Meanwhile Vader and Jaig finally meet properly face to mask. Jaig is having a hard time counselling her fear. But Vader was also having difficulty concealing his pain. Pain that had lingered since the moment he had emerged from that crumbled down sith temple, with no sign in the force or otherwise of his once padawan,. The last family he thought he had, that had not betrayed him, who had(once she had seen his face underneath his freshly cracked mask) said she wouldn't leave him, not again. But she had left him, not by her own design he knew, but she had left him all the same. And she had also left a child behind, a child like the one Padme would have given him if it weren't for both the sith and the jedi.

The jedi, who had forced his hand in turning to the dark side, by telling him he should just let Padme die for the good of the galaxy. The jedi who had abandoned his padawan, his little sister, his first child (if he could go so far as to say) in her time of need, and then exsept her to come back all smiles, acting as though her whole ordel was just a trial to prove herself to them. When it was them who should be providing themselves to her.

And the sith,. The sith who had manipulated him from day one to become what he is now, the sith who had taken every thing he had, his wife, his child, his brother/father figer, his little sister/daughter and his friends. The clones. His home all gone for the sake of his masters new empire😡. Yes he new this had been his master's plan all along, the war the clones, the inhibitor chips. All to gane more and more power for himself and to distroy the jedi in his wake. Dragging Anakin down into the darkness with him, and he would do the same thing to Jaig given the chance. Vader could feel the raw power of the force rolling of her, the energy mix with her fear would be a prime canderdate for Sidious's manipulation, should he ever discover her existence.

No!!! That would not happen, neither the sith or the jedi would have her, he would not alow it.

Jaig:"I know who you are.. I know what you did... You tryed to turn my mother before killing her, but you wouldn't turn me, you hear me, I.. Will.. Not... Turn"

She says her voice shacking with her body in fear.

Vader:"no... You will not..."

Jaig: "then why am I here? I haven't done anything to make you hate me.... At least... I don't think I have"

Vader:"I do not hate you Jaig, like your mother, much to my masters great..... disappointment... I could never hate you"

It was true. He couldn't hate her. Couldn't bring himself to hate her. But he couldn't love her either. He had no more love left in him to give. But he could protector for the sake of someone he had loved.

Jaig: confused "then.. Then please let me go, I won't tell anyone if that's what your worried about, I just want to go home, I want my dad, please I just want my daddy😰"

Vader: "you father's fate is.... Regrettable. However it is a necessary evil, it is emperative that he believes you to be dead"

Jaig: "why what did he do to you? what did any of my parents ever do to you?!"

Vader: "as shocking as it may sound, these actions are not done out of hate. You will know this soon enough but for now, I must focus on getting you as far away and as hidden as possible" he then calls in a trouper with red and black armor.

Vader: "CC-2224 I trust your men are ready"

Cody: "ready and awaiting orders.. Sir"

Cody says through gritted teeth not bearing to even look at his once general's masked face.

Vader:"good, I trust the surgery was a success for all of them?"

Cody: "yes.. Sir.. Though we are all having adjustment issues due to recent ... and.... less recent events"

Vader: "thoughs... issues.... had better not interfere with the performance of your mission commander, you and your men have been chosen for one reason and one reason only, and it is for your loyalty to her safety. I can feel your hatred for me commander Cody (Cody inhails sharply at the sound of his name) but I also know enough about you and your brother's to know that they will not let this anger get in the way. I trust you all know the consequences that await you should you fail"

He ignites his blood red saber to put more emphasis on his point.

Cody:"yes sir"

Vader:"very well, now take her and go, and protect her with your life, I shall make my own way back to base as some as I can, her training with began immediately after my return, so be sure to proper her, but until then you already know what to do".

Cody noded before walking over to Jaig, then bent down and gently but fermly lifts her out of her seat, and quickly carry her out of the cell, down the hall and, through the, docking Station towards a unmarked referbished gunship.

Jaig: "where are we going? "

She said with a soft whimper. She was relieved to be away from Vader but still felt apprehensive with the idea of being taken away yet again in the arms of this.. Purge trooper, at lest she thinks it's a purge trooper, she had never seen one before so she could only guess.

Cody: "sh sh it's gonna be OK little one, I'm taking you some were safe, but we have to hurry now"

Jaig:"why?"

Cody: "no one on this ship other than Vader knows we're here and we have to keep it that way kid"

Jaig:"why would you need to hide from your own men"

Cody:"cuz you never know whos watching, I'll explain more when we get off this ship and into hyperspace"

Once they were on board the gun ship, that had been modified to acomidate long period space travel. The modifications included everything from comfortable seating to a working hyperdrive. Cody set her down in one of the seats and strapped her fermly in before heading to the cockpit, leaving her now surrounded by four more purge troopers (hardcase, fives, dogma and waxer, who I'm gonna say lived, cuz I have attachment issues, boil is in the cockpit piloting the ship) who are all looking at her intensely through their helmets. (hardcase and fives are in borrowed discises, after Fives finds out about the chips he and hardcase desert the army and decide to strike out on their own to try and find out more about the chips and their perpose, unfortunately they were too late to do anything about it before oder 66 happened. They have been on the run ever since, until Vader aproches them, informing them that he has been keeping tabs on them, and had been insuring the empire believes them both to be dead, and tells them of the mission, they agree to help because it's Rex and ahsoka's daughter they'll be protecting, but only under the condition the they only report to a de-chipped Cody and all other clones included in the mission must also be de-chipped as well. Vader had agreed to this as he was going to have their chips all removed anyway, to prevent any itchy trigger fingers being near his new force sensative)

Once they're in hyperspace Cody returns to the main area of the gun ship, where the other clones are crowed around a frightened looking Jaig

Waxer: "is this her? Wow she looks so much like her mum"

Fives: "she has our eyes though, our wonderfully handsome eyes"

hardcase: "and out hair, Ha!! I knew Rex's hair wasn't naturally blonde😂"

Dogma:" technically Hardcase, her hair being brown isn't proof that his is to, she could have just gotten the hereditary Jango gen of dark hair"

Fives:"aww suck the fun out of it why don't you"

Cody: "guys back up, give her some space, your freaking her out, and take off your buckets, I don't think they're helping"

When their buckets were removed Jaig was shocked to see five versions of her father's face looking down at her, all old and a little worse for where's, but all very much clone. She recordnises three of them from her father's holopad.

Jaig: "Fives?"

Fives:😃 "yeah! Yeah kid, that's me your☝️ Uncle Fives (he kneals down taking her hand in his, giving it a quick squeeze, before turning to Cody) she recordnised me first that must kill you😁"

Cody: 😠 "only cus you have a, dirty great 5 on your forehead You Di'kut"

He said before knealing down in front of her

Cody:"hey kid, sorry I couldn't introduce myself earlier, I'm your.."

Jaig:"Uncle Cody"

Cody:😁 "yeah kid (to Fives) SEE!! over there are your uncles Dogma, Waxer, Hardcase and back there in the cockpit is your uncle Boil, I know your probably not used to this many of us, but there's more we're we came from where we're going, though they live un a different fasilaty to ours, but every single one of them would be whiling to keep you safe if they knew. So you don't have to worry, we're not gonna let anything happen to you"

Jaig "but Vader.."

Cody: (places both hand at the side of her head and looks her dead in the eyes) "isn't going to TUCH you, not if we have anything to say about its, he may be our sponser, and he will be coming round every so often to check on you and train you. But you'll have several hundred or so uncles on the planet ready and waiting with fully loaded blasters should he ever try to hurt you, us 6 especially as we're the only clones there that know about you yet and we're gonna be living under the same roof, as you and one of us will always be close by to help you. OK kid, it's all gonna be ok (he says hugging her) your safe now"

Jaig: "but I don't want to be trained by Vader, I said I wouldn't turn and I meant it"

Cody: "it's alright, its alright. The one thing Vader has assured us of, is it he will not be training you in the dark side. And judging by the amount of effort he's putting into keeping you hidden, I'm inclined to believe him. He told us that you must block your self off from the force, what ever that means. Which is what he's going to show you how to do. Apparently it's the only way to keep the emperor off your scent. But like I said, one of us is always gonna be there should he try anything"

Fives:"yeah we'll look out for you kid, I know you miss your dad, and we're pretty poor substitutes, but we're here for you all the same"

Hardcase:"and we're not leaving anytime soon"

Dogma: "well not if we can help it"

Jaig "but where are we going?"

Cody: smile "to the closest thing we clones have to a home... Kamino"

Kamino had changed over the years, once the emperor had ordered to stop to any more clones creation. The cloning fasilaties had been abandoned by the kaminoans, along with all the rest of the untrained cadets who were all shipped of to the mustafa system to be trained and bred as the empires elite force of purge troopers.

The cloning facilities were left to the old now retired clones, to live out their days away from civilisation, many now wolowing in sadness and regret for their actions under the influence of their now un activated inhibitor chips.

The place Jaig and her other uncles were heading, was just a few hundred miles of from the main cloning compound. It had been kitted out with everything they might need, weaponry, shields, a food station, bedrooms, a bunkhouse, a training ground, and a shooting range. The only beings abord were now the clones, Jaig, the cook and the maintenance crew, well I say crew, it consisted of one male Ugnaught named Kuiil and three droid assistants whom he had reprogrammed to help with any and all clean up and maintenance duties.

Jaig would continue to live out there with her uncles for the next 5 years. They would go on to train her with any and all things clone, weaponry, though she had learnt a lot of that from her father's teachings, and the language and teachings of the mandalorian. The boys were insistent that she learn all of what little they knew of their heritage, as they were all descended from Jango, who was of mandolor. Any clone would tell you how proud the clones were of this heritage, and now they had someone to pass it all down to. They even taught Jaig the mandalorian wars songs that they had all learnt as cadets, and the Clone Haka, that had been performed by many clone troops over the years, before battle,. Much to the confusion and quite frankly terror of the B1 battle droids who witnessed them.

Fives: "ha your mum was pritty good at this to"

Jaig: now 12" my mum knew the Haka? "

She said, trying to picture her calm and serene togrutan mother, chanting, stomping and banging her chest along side millions of clones Warriors, all while making different faces and throatle sounds at the droids on the other side of the battlefield.

Hardcase: "oh yeah!! She was a natural, always shouting the chant in her loudest voice and making her scariest war face, like this 🤪😜🤪"

Fives: "and that my dear Jaig, was when your father fell in love🥰"

Vader came over as often as he could spare, when he was sure he couldn't be directed be his master or that anyone following him. Teaching Jaig how to disconnect herself from the force, telling her that if she continues to use it, the consequences would be severe.

Vader:"if the employer was ever to discover you exsisens, he would hunt you down in an instant, and kill anyone who trys to hide you from him. This is why you must never use the force again, and you must never leave. If anyone outside this fasilaty were to learn of your existence, you would be in mortal danger, as would everyone you care about"

Jaig: "but why couldn't my dad come? You could have had both our deaths faked and brought him here with me"

Vader: sighed "he is to mixed up with the rebel alliance, and besides, it was his reaction that sold your death to the universe. A trick I learned from my old master...the hard way"

He said bitterly.

Jaig knew she should hate him, he had taken her from her home, her friends and family. He had taken her mother, and it was because of his foolish decision to trust, a maniac, power hungy, sith Lord, that her family were forced to live in the shadows, and her mother, and father were force into separation when she was just an infant. She didn't like him by any means, she frequently tryed to avoid his at any turn. But she still couldn't feel hatred for him.

Cody: "na that your mother in you, she was never one to hold much of a grudge ether. She got angry at people don't get me wrong but she never hated them. She cryed over the potential execution of a woman who had Framed her for Murder once. And had taken the time to give all her deceased troops, who had tryed to gun her down a funeral. Even though she and your father where now on the run from the empire"

Over the years living there, she became closer with her uncles, or at least most of them. She argued with Boil on an almost daily basis, but they had their moments, she told him and Waxer how she met Numa, who was still fighting for the freedom of her home. She had a difficult time connecting with Dogma. He was very distance from her and didn't talk much. However she did like listening to him read. Dogma who had been a stiff by the book solder his entire life, and had been through so much, found he secretly quite enjoyed the company of his niece. But she spent most of her training with Fives and Hardcase. Both clones always new how to make her smile and told her many stories of her parents during the war, stories not even her parents had told her, (though they never much liked talking about the war), and she had given them a new lease of life, and new perpose. She was probably closest with Cody, he had know her father since they were both cadets, and was determined to teach her everything he knew, but he also showed his softer side with her. There were many a time he would be seen walking down the corridor carrying the young girl who was really getting a bit to big to be held, in his arms fast asleep from a long day.

She had also become quite good friends with Kuiil the maintenance manger, she learnt that he was paying off his debt to the empire through prolonged servitude, he had been in many battles he didn't believe in, until Vader; after seeing his reprogramming skills had, offered him a place on this secret compound. Kuiil had also taken quite a shine to Jaig, she was kind, and eager to learn the inner workings of the machines he fixed.

But yet again, even this would not last. After the destruction of the First Death Star, Lord Sidious had been furious with Vader, he tortured and demoted him. But through his touture he discovered the existence of the child Vader had taken such lengths to keep hidden from him. And through this new information, he devised a plan.

To brake his apprentices even ferther, he would force him to chose, chose between the life of his padawans child, who he had swarn to protect, and the life of his son, that he did not yet know about. But unfortunately for the emperor, he did not bargain for the tactical brilliance of the Clones.

When the empire, came to take the now 15 year old girl, they had already divested their own escape plan. They sent Jaig along with Kuill over to the kaminoan cloning facilities, turned clone retirement home, before the empire even entered the atmosphere. There she was frozen in to carbonite and fastened to the inside of the newly alcoved underbelly of a small one-seater Y wing (to insure the if the empire should come across them she would be well hidden and undetected, Kuiils cover story being that he was delivering supplies to the clones) there Kuiil would then fly far away from any siverlized planet. While, the clones continued to fight and defend the compound as though she was still there, and then proceed to escape themselves, using an old subship left over from the battle of Kamino. But not before bowing the place sky high, making it seem like the empires had fired at the fewl tanks corsing the whole building to be destroyed along with anyone who was inside.

This was not the out come Sidious had wished for, however with the now almost certain death of his ward, Vader plunged ever ferther into the void of darkness and hate. So the desired effect Sideous was planning for was reached anyway.

After being unfrozen from carbonite, Jaig and Kuiil parted ways. She chose to for her father, but it became fruitless. Chopper base had long since been evacuated and the rebel alliance was always one step ahead of her in their attempts to avoid the empire. For 2 years she searched for them, and fought the Empire where she could, until she finally stopped, delving into the belief that what ever family she knew was now gone, she rejoined Kuiil on a deserted planet called Arvala-7, while the galaxy celebrated the fall of the empire. Where for the next 5 years they would both try to live out their lives in peace, working the land and carrying for blurgs, until a mandolorian arrives on their planet, looking for a little green bounty, which starts of a whole new adventure for our now Adult Jaig.

OK guys let me know how I did, and if you would like to see Jaig's adventures with Din Djarin and little green bean Grogu. Let me know. I'm not much of a writer,. But I always got so irratated when reading Din Djarin/oc fics where to make her interesting, they give the oc force powers, with either no build up to it, or she's a run away jedi, which kind of defeats the whole purpose of season 2 were they're trying to find the jedi, so I thought I'd write my own. I wanted to have a character that has both a clear connection to both the mandalorian culture and the force, without making her a mary su. She has a connection to the force. But she can't use it, or control it. Therefore she can't train Grogu to use it. Which would mean they'd have to find the jedi, to help him learn to control his powers. Plus I don't want to just giving her everything with no preplanned reason. So here is my preplanned reason. I know these short scenes and conversations don't really delve much into her personality but that's were you come in. Tell me what you think of her, and what you think she's like as an adult. I wrote a few things like her kind nature and her sarcastic humour. But I could do with some ideas on what you would like to see. Let me know, and...

May the 4th be with you,😉

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9tzuyu · 4 years

Text

the art of delicate hands – pt. i

[ wandanat. ]

College AU.

Multiple part series ;

↳ snippets of their relationship and how I perceive them.

sumary:

wanda doesn't like to talk very much, only to her brother (and sometimes her lovely redheaded girlfriend).

notes:

if anyone international is reading this, ASL is shortened for american sign language (language of the hands).

this is a revised and edited version from when i wrote it on ao3 in 2018.

The only person that knew was Pietro. It was her little secret, and she could only hope that no one now would find out. She knew she shouldn't be ashamed, it was nothing to be ashamed over. Unsurprisingly however, it became her biggest insecurity – years of relentless bullying ensued that.

Wanda was always anxious. When she was seven she began experiencing panic attacks. The metallic taste of blood in her mouth became familiar over time as her panic attacks worsened.

All because she was mute and didn't feel comfortable to speak to anyone, including her parents. The only person Wanda felt comfortable enough to talk to was her brother (you could say that's because they're twins).

A doctor in Sokovia mentioned to Wanda's parents that therapy may help, that it may get her to speak more than four words a week. So her parents moved her when she was 16 and hoped for the best.

Within a year and a half Wanda was able to develop a clear understanding of American Sign Language. Eight months into the move and Wanda's parents had given up on Wanda ever talking, something that she took personal. They didn't catch on to English as quick as the twins did, their native language stuck closer than expected. Pietro didn't mind learning English quickly as he wanted to fit in school, and he also didn't mind studying ASL to communicate with Wanda on a deeper level.

American high school wasn't much better than her hometown. People talked, whispered and gossiped about her in class, muttered hurtful things about her appearance and the way she carried herself; a shy, quiet, timid girl. The worst part of it was when they mocked her for using a language that was supposed to feel safe for her. Pietro always came to her rescue, shooing people away, reminding them that she's his sister. The silver haired boy had no problem fitting in, it was only when they were apart did people tease the younger brunette.

When their parents died, Wanda took the brunt of the emotional attack it had on the twins. She'd been sitting in the backseat of the car, earbuds in, with her music volume at maximum capacity. Her father had tried to tell her to turn down the music while her mother rest in the passenger seat, window down with her eyes closed. When Wanda didn't hear her father, he reached over, eyes off the road, and tapped her. The second she registered his touch a semi-truck hit her father's door. In a matter of minutes Wanda and Pietro both were left alone to fend for themselves.

Putting the blame on herself only caused her to shut down further. It took over a year for Wanda to speak to Pietro again.

But as per usual, the twins stuck together and finished high school. The only difference was that they lived in foster care, they belonged to the state, up for grabs if anyone wanted them. That came to an end six months into their stay. The foster family proposed the idea of adoption, they had no problem in taking care of the twins for the rest of the time being – or, if they wanted, every day after as well.

At twenty, Wanda and Pietro eventually both went to college and shared a house with a bundle of other people on campus. The younger sibling even found herself a girlfriend within the group, her name being Natasha Romanoff.

Natasha didn't mind at all how little Wanda talked. She was curious, of course, but even before their relationship Nat never pushed her girlfriend into anything uncomfortable. Natasha could tell Wanda always made effort though, that's what drove the brunette into allowing herself a relationship.

When the redhead would sleep, Wanda would continuously practice signing. She'd sign songs and poems, movie scripts and books, everything she possibly could to improve herself. It was a very personal, in touch form of language for her.

Wanda had been with her girlfriend a little over a year and Natasha still didn't know all the unpleasant factors that came about her life. Wanda only told her just enough to get by, and she felt immensely guilty for that. Truth was she desperately wanted to tell Natasha, she just didn't know how. She'd thought about just signing something to her and hoping she would catch on, but figured that would be too much. Anxiety spiked in her chest and in her bones, and she was tired of feeling like a liar.

With a sigh, Wanda plopped down on her bed and pulled her phone out from her back pocket. Unlocking it, she went to her text messages and scrolled to Pietro's contact. When she was sure no one else was in the house, she tapped the call button and listened to the phone ring until Pietro answered.

"You know I'm in the other room, right? You literally could've called my name." He greeted, accent heavy through the speaker.

Wanda giggled as she ran her fingers through her hair. You're safe. Speak, it's okay. She reminded herself.

"Yeah, but are you free?"

"Always."

"Can you come here? I need to ask you about something." Pietro gave out a loud, playful sigh but walked to her room, disconnecting the call on his way in. "What is it, my dear sister? What could possibly be troubling you here on this day? Is it that scruffy redhead?" He smirked arrogantly but sat down in the desk chair across from Wanda, not failing to notice how she rolled her eyes.

"She doesn't have scruffy hair and you know it. It's soft, gentle – and much less damaged than your shit show of an excuse for bleached hair."

"Whatever you say, little chaos."

Wanda groaned, "Why must you still call me that?"

"It suits you well."

There was a shared moment of silence between the two before Pietro spoke up. "What was it you wanted to ask me about?" A small frown was plastered on Wanda's face and Pietro found himself wanting to know even more now. Wanda waited another minute before finally answering. "Should I tell her? You know, about..."

A huge smile took over her brother's face. He was ecstatic that she wanted this for her girlfriend. "Of course you should! I really think she'd be interested to know more about you – y'know, since you don't ever tell her anything."

"I tell her things!" Pietro shook his head, "Does she even know your birthday?" Wanda nodded and turned herself away from him. "I just don't know how to do it. I mean it'd be kind of heavy just taking her out to dinner only to tell her my deepest, darkest secret afterwards. I'm scared she'll hate me, Pietro! And I've never even spoke. More than like, 12 sentences all at once with her!" He softened knowing how much trouble one past had caused his little sister. "Write her a note?" He suggested, but she shook her head. "I want to tell her, not write her."

Right before he was about to speak again there was a knock at the door. The pair looked up to find Natasha standing in the doorway smiling down at the two. "Am I interrupting?"

Wanda froze while Pietro arrogantly raised his eyebrow and announced his answer. "No. We were just finished talking."

Confusion was written on Nat's face and she stood there until Wanda shook her head and muttered a small "No," giving her the signal that she could come in.

"I'll be in the other room if you need me." Pietro got up, despite Wanda's silent plea for him to stay. He gave her a thumbs up and left the room.

Natasha closed the door and laid next to Wanda, wrapping her arms around the younger woman. "You okay?" Wanda nodded in reply and Natasha knew not to push. For now she'd just keep an eye on her, reassuring her that she could talk to her if need be.

Over the next few days Wanda seemed to be doing better. She was supposed to go to a party with Nat, but opted out to study for classes instead.

"Be safe," she whispered and planted a small kiss on Natasha's lips.

Everyone else went to the same party, leaving the house to just Wanda. She sent out a group message telling everyone to text her or ring her (at the very most importance) if they needed a ride. Wanda didn't drink much anyways so she didn't mind being the designated driver of the bunch. And besides, she didn't mind having some time alone, it gave her the absence of the boys so she could study.

However, after over an hour or so of studying Wanda was beginning to feel stressed. Her nerves were building and she could feel her jaw clench.

She needed a break.

With a small sigh, she got up and connected her phone to her speaker. After scrolling and clicking on her song of choice, Wanda found herself signing the words to a Modest Mouse song.

Green eyes closed as her hands began to string along with the words of the song. It was rather fast paced, but Wanda was able to keep up fairly well thanks to years of practice. Lyrics flowed through her fingertips and in the palms of her hands, her stress levels immediately decreasing as she went on.

Unbeknownst to her, however, Natasha was standing in the doorway watching her every move. She was absolutely mesmerized by Wanda's hand motions. Her finger spelling was very fast, and Natasha was curious to know how long Wanda had known ASL.

When the song was over, Wanda stopped her music and moved herself so she could study again. She grabbed her pens, pencils and highlighters, along with her textbook while her back faced Natasha.

"I didn't know you could sign." Natasha commented. A mix of shock and uneasiness quickly took over the calm look on Wanda's face.

It wasn't until then when Tasha put two and two together. She quickly rushed over to her girlfriend, and carefully engulfed her into a hug.

"Hey, no, I think it's really cool. You don't have to worry now, your secret's safe with me." Wanda began to shake in her grasp, tears forming in her eyes. She backed out of the embrace and against the wall, pulling her knees to her chest.

"No, you're supposed to hate me, laugh at me. You're supposed to be anything but be cool with it." Natasha tilted her head, "Is that what they did to you?"

Wanda peaked out from underneath her arms, the confirmative nod sent Natasha's heart well beyond sinking. She’d never understand how people could willingly be so cruel.

"I'm here to listen, not judge." Her words softly echoed in Wanda's mind, and she watched Natasha carefully to see if she was lying. When she didn't make any remarks or snide comments, Wanda knew it was safe. Accent heavy, she began letting words slip from her mouth.

"I have really bad anxiety when it comes to talking, so I just don’t. Asl makes it easier to communicate, but growing up I was often teased for it. You’re really good at reading me without it, so I hid it from you. Guess their words still haunt me...” Wanda finished, giving Natasha a little more insight on her life.

Natasha moved closer to her girlfriend, bringing Wanda’s shaking body into her embrace. She then kissed the top of her forehead.

Wanda looked up to see Natasha thinking, her eyebrows scrunched together and she was chewing on her lip. She nudged her.

“I think it’s quite beautiful if you ask me.” Wanda cracked a smile and rest her head on Tasha’s shoulder. “Beauty comes from pain, I guess.”

But Natasha shook her head, “No, No, beauty is in the eye of the beholder.” Wanda nodded. She understood what Natasha was saying, she just didn’t believe it to be true when it came to herself. Nonetheless, she spoke the words, repeating the mantra so that maybe she could start to feel a belief in them.

“Beauty is in the eye of the beholder.”

#wandanat #scarletwidow #scarlet witch x black widow #wanda x natasha #wanda maximoff x natasha romanoff #wanda maximoff x reader

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welllpthisishappening · 3 years

Note

Hello there, I see you're back on blue-line drabbles! I love them, I am obsessed with this universe. I don't know if I ever came back to say hi after I read all your big fics, but somehow I liked each even better than the last! I don't know how that's possible! But anyway, I think one of the best signs of a good writer/good story is when you're not ready to leave the world once you've finished, and Blue Line is one of the few fanfics I've read where even well after I've finished it, (cont)

(cont) I want to keep living in it and I end up writing my own fic of it in my head (strange, I know). Anyway, for whatever reason, I got really invested in Roland and Lizzie's relationship. Like, how did they end up dating after knowing each other for literally Lizzie's entire life? How did the adults react? Do you have any Lizzie/Roland stories up your sleeve? They would not go unread :)

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Hello, yes, listen, this ask has lived rent free™ in my head since I first got it and I cannot properly convey how absolutely, goddamn wonderful it is. I am a broken record of outdated references , but it continues and will always amaze me that people are not only interested in Blue Line (more than three years!!! after I originally started posting) but are also interested in other characters in the story who are, for all intents and purposes, original characters at this point. Like the overall size my heart becomes when reading something like that could potentially cause a serious medical condition.

But, like, in a nice way.

So thank you, thank you, thank you. It genuinely warms the cockles of my entire soul. And, like, if you wanna share those fic ideas of the fic, you’ll never hear me say no. Just like I will never turn down the opportunity to write more stuff. Which is what’s under the cut. This stuff includes:

Roland and Lizzie’s first kiss, what I hope is some legitimate banter, more kissing, obvious flirting, and Roland being something of a sap.

Also, uh, it’s entirely possible that I have also already written: Roland and Lizzie’s first “I love you,” their wedding and some other stuff where their kid is involved. Seriously, guys, I am always down to write other relationships in this ‘verse.

————

It was, she figured, something almost passably close to, sort of resembling, definitely inching somewhere nearer to—

Assured.

Unavoidable.

Inexorable

Inevitable.

That was a bad word. That last word. The third one was pretty impressive, honestly. Vocabulary, wise. She’d have to remember that one later. The last one, though. Made teeth Lizzie wasn’t even aware she possessed ache as she ground them together, a pronounced tension in her jaw that was likely affecting her shoulders as well. That word. An awful word. Boasted less-than-positive connotations, letters practically dripping with lack of self-control and overtly aggressive infatuation, but if the world expected her not to be a little in love with Roland Locksley by the time she turned fourteen and noticed that slight indentation in his right cheek every time he smiled, well, then the world had another thing coming.

Dimple, that was the appropriate description. Another word. More words. Too many words. All of them bouncing off the slope of her skull and scratching at the back of her brain, nearly distracting her from what should have been the very pleasant buzz lingering beneath whatever biological thing made up her top and bottom lips.

Which were parted in an emotion very similar to overwhelming surprise.

That was stupid.

The whole thing was stupid. God, maybe she was stupid. No, that wasn’t true. She’d made Dean’s List last semester. Stupid was—

A stupid word, really. Despite the blush rising in her cheeks and the wide eyes practically boring into her soul, bated breath that didn’t make any noise because that was what bated entailed, and no one else glanced in their direction. Not once. No one else noticed.

That the whole world had flipped upside down.

Or right-side-up, maybe. Depending on how the next five minutes or so went.

Because the last two minutes and twelve seconds, give or take, had seen Roland Locksley tilt his head and let his eyes flutter closed before his mouth found hers for the very first time — at midnight for God’s sake. On New Year’s Eve. Or New Year’s Day, she supposed. His parents were standing on the other side of the room.

Suggesting that Lizzie had ever been just a little in love with Roland was a rather monumental lie.

As far as those things went.

“So, uh—” she started, only to find blood in her mouth. From her teeth. Wayward and unpredictable, as they were. Biting down on the side of her tongue and Lizzie hated going to the dentist. Doing irreparable damage to her teeth on what was now legitimately New Year’s Day, in the middle of an annual party, was not on her schedule.

Metaphorical as it might have been.

She liked schedules. Had plans. Focus, even. People always said that about her — how focused she was, liked to throw around the word drive with startling regularity, as if they were amazed she wasn’t simply willing to rest on her laurels or the pair of last names she proudly toted around with her. As if Lizzie expected doors to swing open on a glance.

Rather than consistently preparing herself to knock them down.

She liked the challenge of it all. Appreciated the way disbelief always spiked something in her blood, and that was likely equal parts genetic predisposition and a product of her childhood, but right now, Lizzie was simply prepared to fight for the schedule she’d never allowed herself to mention to anyone else before and it wasn’t like they weren’t friends.

Talked outside the group chat, even.

That meant something. Definitely meant something. Had to mean something. Her lips felt like they’d been doused in liquid nitrogen.

She didn’t know all the scientific properties of liquid nitrogen, but it always made that rather impressive cloud of steam-type stuff on cooking shows. So, it seemed very likely that it did something similar to cause whatever was happening in the region directly surrounding her mouth. Buzzing and tingling, and whatnot.

When had Roland last blinked? Lizzie couldn’t remember. That would have been impressive in any other situation. Right now, it was sort, kind of, totally— Pissing her off.

Color dotted his cheeks, no sign of the goddamn dimple because he wasn’t smiling, presumably couldn’t do that when it was clear he was so intent on pulling his lips into his mouth, and that felt a little insulting. Her tongue had just been in that mouth.

Lizzie was fairly confident in the abilities of her tongue, so she wasn’t all that pleased to be replaced by a pair of lips that could have been doing much better work against the side of her neck.

“If you sit here right now and tell me that you are,” Lizzie lifted a finger, “one, sorry,” another finger, “two, anything even remotely resembling regretful,” another finger, wiggling close enough to Roland’s nose to make him just a bit cross-eyed, “or, three, too old for me, I will throw my heel at that bruise I know exists on the back of your left calf.”

His lips twitched.

He really had impossible eyelashes. Seemingly made so he could glance up from underneath them, to meet Lizzie’s steely expression with what she refused to believe could be cautious hope. Passable optimism, maybe. She’d have to look up what liquid nitrogen did, later.

“I’m standing.” “I hate you.”

“You wanna go in order, or how do you want to work this?” “Where else are you bruised?” Roland laughed softly, a shift of his shoulders and tiny burst of air between barely parted lips. Feeling that tiny burst meant they were standing very close to each other. How they were standing remained another mystery.

One of those great ones, Lizzie figured. The kind referenced when people talked about the sweeping potential of life and love and— Ah, fuck.

“Please don’t threaten to attack me anywhere else,” he muttered, before quickly adding, “you gotta know this was not my end game, Liza.” Narrowing her eyes did nothing to temper the…tempest. Swirling in her gut. Threatening the back of her throat. Eating away at vocal cords and vocal boxes and the structural integrity of her entire goddamn larynx. Possibly her tongue, too, just to be especially efficient.

“Really? Might’a been mine, actually.”

She’d always liked his eyes.

How they could widen, and it wasn’t like...a normal brown. Nothing about the way he looked was ever dull. Drifted toward regularly excited, and the sparkles were probably a figment of her over-active teenage imagination, but Lizzie liked to think sometimes the sparkle came from her. Because of her, even. When she’d call because he always wanted to hear about her latest lecture and he’d call because sometimes Western swings were exhausting and loneliness-inducing and—

She knew.

He knew.

They knew each other.

Grand scheme, the sparkle-prone eyes still weren’t particularly close to the dimple. On the list of things Lizzie liked. What left butterflies fluttering in her stomach and her heart hammering against her chest. Sparkle was probably a solid fourth. Behind the precise way his curls fell toward his eyebrows when he didn’t have time to get his hair cut. Which rarely happened during the season. Right now, it was happening right now. Well-defined strands that Lizzie knew felt even smoother than she’d ever theorized between her fingers, and she wasn’t sure what she was going to do with that information.

Obsess over it, probably.

For at least the next week, or so.

Still. Eyes. Eyelashes. Too long and too bright, and that was the wrong description order and she was starting to teeter. On the edge of a rather dramatic free-fall. Into feelings and possibility, and this was way too dramatic. For both of them.

“Don’t do that,” she mumbled, a scrunch of her nose that apparently demanded his thumb. Brushing against the bridge, and there wasn’t any caution there. No obvious fear or concern. For the way it left Lizzie’s lungs pinched, and there must have been a limit.

To everything her internal organs could cope with in a limited span of time.

“What was the last one on the list?” She swallowed. “Too old.” “Yuh-huh.” “Pretty flimsy as far as excuses go. You realize I’m not asking you to marry me right now, right?” He choked. On what, she wasn’t entirely sure. Only that it made her stomach heave and her teeth dig into her lower lip, and that was— “Because I know I said, end game,” Lizzie continued, giving in to the need to fill empty space with the sound of her own voice, “but that sounds like several pop culture references all at once, and you know how much I—”

“Hate to come across as disingenuous.” “Mattie’s the pop culture reference machine, anyway.” “Please don’t talk about Matt when I keep thinking about how much I want to kiss you again.” Her eyes, that time. Widened. Bugged. Did something unnatural. “Yeah?” “You’re kidding me, right?” “You’re not an old man.” Rolling his eyes, Roland’s tongue dragged across the front of his teeth. To torture her, apparently. “I was in college when you were a freshman in high school.” “Yuh-huh.” “Liza.” “Nah, nah,” Lizzie shook her head. Crossed her arms. Tried to stand up to her full height, but even the heels didn’t do much to add to the overall intimidation factor. Roland was doing an awful job of fighting off his smile. “Pulling out ancient nicknames is not—” “—It’s not a nickname; it’s literally letters in your name.” “Nick,” she leaned forward, “name. All personal-like.”

Making mistakes was not something she enjoyed very much. It was that Jones competitive streak. Plus, the Vankald stubborn streak. Created a monster of determination, who knew what she wanted, and feeling Roland’s fingers graze her cheek as a strand of hair hung limply in the minimal space between them was the result of Lizzie’s mistaken movement.

Even as much as she might have wanted it.

Goosebumps prickled her arms. Stole whatever oxygen she’d managed to get in the last forty-six seconds, or so. Her eyes fluttered. Head tilted. Towards the touch and the warmth, and for someone who spent so much time on the ice, he really was impossibly warm.

“This is your fault.”

He didn’t move his fingers. Cupped her cheek, instead. “You were doing that eyebrow thing.” “Expand on that for me.” “Lifting ‘em. Happens sometimes. When you’re listening intently. Like you’re a little amazed by new information. They’re these stupid little arches on your face. Drives me nuts.” “The compliment was in there somewhere, I’m sure of it.” “I am so much older than you, Liza.” “Shouldn’t’a played out a bunch of teenage daydreams at once, then.” She was legitimately worried about the state of his tongue. Barely biting back her laugh, Lizzie let her eyes lift. To find Roland gaping at her, drooped shoulders and puppy-dog eyes. And that goddamn dimple. “C’mon, this isn’t...do you think I haven’t made out with people before?” “Wouldn’t classify what we just did as a makeout.” “No?” His eyes darkened. Shivering was probably not a good move, right? Right. Definitely. She wasn’t shivering. It was just...January. And inside. With dozens of people around them. “I would not, no,” Roland said, and the drop in overall volume was some sort of trick. Or, something.

“How many people do you think you’ve made out with? Ballpark it for me.” “No.” “Is the issue a lack of appropriate numbers to tally that mark, or—” She bit her tongue, again. At the flash of amused frustration sweeping his face and polluting the molecules of whatever air was hovering between them. Permeating was a better word. Lizzie really needed to work on all of that. Words. Being slightly less jealous of potential make outs that didn’t have anything to do with her and definitely happened because there had to be other people out there in the world who simply could not cope with the existence of that dimple.

“How many people have you made out with, then?” “Scores,” Lizzie snarled, only to get immediately scoffed at. “I’m really, incredibly popular.” “Oh, I’ve got no doubt.” “Boatloads of guys. Lining up to,” she pointed an imperious finger at her mouth, “make out with this.” “Your well-defined chin?” “I’m going to take my shoe off.” “Draw attention with a move like that.” Whatever fight she had didn’t immediately die. It just, sort of, fell. At her feet, threatening all the bones there and there were too many. All of them far too fragile. For whatever metaphor she was running with at the moment. “And we’re not trying to do that, huh? Draw attention.” “Shouldn’t you be out sowing wild oats?” “Really know how to charm a girl,” she grumbled, and that got her a smile. No scoff. Not even the hint of a smile. The whiplash was hurting her neck. “Trust me, the oats have appropriately sowed. If I was ever particularly inclined to farm work.” “I’m starting to be vaguely embarrassed by all of this.” “Good.” Wasn’t quite a scoff. Was more like a half-hearted laugh, and a tinge of desire and that was better than the other emotions, but the decreasing level of Roland’s eyebrows gave her pause. “What about the status of your oats?”

“Well sowed, rookie season,” Roland said.

“You’re going to change the name on your jersey.” “Not sure that particular fact has a lot to do with anything else. Seven years, Liza.” “I’m perfectly capable of doing math, you know I took that stats class once.” “Because I double checked everything you turned in.” “Makes you slightly less of an idiot than the vibe you're giving off right now.” “A freeway or compliments.” Pulling in a deep inhale through her nose, Lizzie didn’t miss the way Roland’s gaze fell. To the neckline of her dress, lingering on the jut of her collarbones for a few seconds longer than a strictly platonic friendship should allow, and they were friends. Still. She knew that as well as she knew that he believed she thought he was simply being clever with nicknames.

And not making vaguely incorrect My Fair Lady references.

Because he’d always been a little annoyed that Eliza had gone back to Henry Higgins. Instead of Freddie.

It was really impossible not to be a little in love with him at all times.

“You’re really going to hyphenate?” Roland nodded. “Think of all the new jerseys they’ll sell.” “By the box-load, and Gina’s gonna buy the entire stock. She’s—that’s really nice, you know.” “Just a fact. Little late, but—” He shrugged. Lizzie’s smile threatened to split her face. In that same nice way, she’d been talking about. Her lips were still buzzing. She might have been buzzing. With adrenaline. Happiness. The near-desperate desire to find some type of closet and get her fingers back in Roland’s questionably long hair.

“Of naming conventions.” She couldn’t begin to guess what the record was for shoulder shifts in an emotionally charged conversation between two people who were simultaneously ignoring the point of the conversation, but Lizzie also knew her eyebrows had been halfway up her face as he’d detailed the reasons for making his jersey say Mills-Locksley. From here on out.

Maybe that was the top of the list, actually.

He was a good guy.

Had always been a good guy. The best guy, really.

Falling into that chasm wasn’t nearly as terrifying as Lizzie expected it to be.

“Why’d you do it?” Roland’s lips disappeared. His tongue moved, again. She was staring at the area around his tongue. So, like, his mouth. Directly at his mouth. “Because, I uh—have wanted to?” “Oh, don’t phrase that like a question.” “Wanted to,” he repeated, a statement of fact with a certain amount of conviction. Enough to make Lizzie’s pulse sputter. “Which is kind of freaking me out.” “Come back with more compliments.” “Your dress nearly made me fall over.” “Better, actually,” she laughed.

He ran his fingers through his hair. “Made sense at the time.” “Be more specific.” “Kissing you,” Roland said, enough emphasis that he leaned forward half an inch as well. It was a miracle their noses didn’t collide. Not the most impressive miracle, but—counted. “If I tell you that you might be my best friend does that make the lamest professional hockey player alive?” “Yes, absolutely.” “Matt might challenge you to a duel if he hears me talking like this, you know.” “God, Locksley, didn’t we just talk about the Mattie rules? Also, that made it sound like Mattie wants to kiss you too, so...”

He chuckled. Fingers still tugging on the back of his hair, like he was trying to ground himself in the pull and the self-inflicted tension, Roland looked up. Back at her. And Lizzie didn’t flinch. Didn’t blink. Held her position and prepared herself to defend the schedule she’d only ever allowed herself to hope for in the silence of that one corner in her brain.

Filled, as it was, with memories. Of conversations that didn’t have anything to do with hockey. Others that did. Arguing over blue line placement in the brownstone and college rankings. Of movies watched on two different laptops in different corners of the country, bad jokes, and consistent updates, that deep-rooted understanding that came from a life full of expectations and the exact opposite. No overt pressure, but the need to prove yourself anyway, if only because of the name on the back of the jersey, and Lizzie was going to have to buy a new jersey.

“You like me? Yes, or no?” Roland smiled. Wide and honest, the kind that ensured the dimple was on prominent display. “Yes.” “I am a grown adult? Yes, or no?” Crinkles appeared around his eyes. From the smile.

“Yes.” “Meaning I get to make my own choices. Romantically, or otherwise. Yes, or no?” “Obviously.” “Wasn’t one of the options.” “Yes,” Roland corrected, fingers trailing over the bend of her elbow. Lizzie hadn’t uncrossed her arms. Or remembered when she’d crossed them in the first place.

“Ok, good. Same page, then.” “Liza.” “Locksley.” Lifting her eyebrows wasn’t a challenge, per se. Was closer to instinct, really. Specifics didn’t matter, honestly. She did that thing with her eyebrows, and he did that thing with his mouth, the same one she was staring at and hoping would move closer to her, and then—

Well, it did.

Hands found Lizzie’s hips, pulling her forward sharply enough that she let out a soft grunt. From the feel of hips bumping against hers, and she honestly wasn’t sure who hissed in their next inhale, only that it did something to the flutter-like state of her pulse and the erratic nature of her heart, and it was slow and fast and good and great and not a single person noticed.

Miracles were arriving en masse, apparently.

Pushing her fingers into Roland’s hair got Lizzie another hum of approval, the first brush of his tongue making her lips part and her head fall to the side, but then his hand was wrapped around the back of her neck, and she could not be expected to pay attention to anything except the semi-consistent swipe of his thumb against her skin. It left more goosebumps. Caused another chuckle, the kind that rumbled through her and resonated around her, a tiny bubble of that same cautious optimism from before.

Like a spark.

Fanning flames and threatening to burn everything because if this didn’t work, then Lizzie wasn’t sure what would, and that was scary and overwhelming and terrifying was a synonym, but she really was working with very limited word-based resources when Roland’s thumb kept moving. Tracing her. Committing the feel to memory, and she wasn’t sure when they’d established the rocking pattern they were moving in, but something deep in the center of her trusted it.

Someone who regularly strapped knives to his feet and raced around at top speed knew how to stay balanced. And she was a stubborn idiot. Who got what she wanted.

“Is part of liking me because I told you I didn’t think it was embarrassing that you still got a little emotional about Miracle on 34th Street?” Laughter pushed past her lips. Took root in the pit of her stomach and the spaces between her ribs. Laced through her heart. In the kind of way that cemented itself. Right in the middle of Lizzie. Right in the middle of this. Them.

There was a them, now.

“Was definitely a factor, yeah,” Roland said, not bothering to pull away. “You, uh—you snuck up on me a little, Liza.” “Peak romance.” “Want me to talk about your dress some more?” She shook her head. “Unnecessary. And you didn’t.” “That might be part of the problem.” “Nursing old crushes, you mean?” Her hair hit her cheek. And his hand. He couldn’t seem to let go of her. “Nah, this wasn’t like...there was no torch, not really. I—I wasn’t hanging posters of you on my wall if that’s the picture you’ve painted for yourself.” “Kinda disappointing, admittedly.” “Pick a lane, babe.” No sparkle, that time. Just flash and want and the very thin line Lizzie’s lips had become. “Be more specific,” Roland repeated softly. “You’re not standing on a pedestal. Just you, Rol, as is.” He waited. That was fair. There should have been more. Should have been a detailed list of all the reasons the grown-up version of her liked so many parts of the grown-up version of him, but that all felt a little extraneous when she was still thinking about closet-type possibilities and that stubborn streak was a mile wide, anyway.

Roland nodded once. “Good.”

Both of them jumped. At the pop of another champagne bottle and Lizzie never understood how Regina managed to order so much champagne every year, but she felt a bit like she was floating on the bubbles, and they didn’t decide. Explicitly. To keep the whole thing—

Secret.

Another bad word. With bad connotations and shadows that clung to the definition, but this was them and only them and, for right now, that was enough. And if no one noticed the way Roland’s hand drifted over the small of Lizzie’s back during David’s speech, then that was a miracle she was willing to accept.

#blue line rambles #blue line one shots #these really are just original characters at this point #i have also written:#matt and claire meeting for the first time #henry and ella meeting for the first time #stuff about peggy and jeremy humbert #and i've got a whole list of will x belle stuff #in case it wasn't ovbious people still aren't responding to my emails #oh! also roland and lizzie's engagement #i wrote that too #also if you are so inclined: wilder days by morgan wade played like four times while i wrote this #mylifeisalifestyle #laura rambles

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ceo-of-daichi · 4 years

Text

Characters - Sawamura Daichi x Fem!Reader

Summary - Lockdown had really affected your social life and daily routine, luckily a certain someone was willing to help you get your life back to somewhat normal. What will happen when you start catching feelings?

Genre - Fluff

Warnings - Slight mentions of anxiety

Word Count - 2.3k

A/N - Back again with another Daichi fic! Are you surprised, probably not i got a one man mind lmao. This one isn’t as long as the last but still as fluffy, hopefully you enjoy reading it :) p.s. this was almost called Toothpaste I blame Jas👀

Covid-19 had really flipped your year in a completely different direction to what you were expecting. You started the year hoping to finish your last year of high-school on a high, helping the volleyball team get to nationals and getting into university. However, the world clearly had a different plan for you, when the virus first started you didn’t think much of it. Why would you? It was only when the announcement came that the country was going into lockdown that your brain finally registered what was actually happening. Being the slightly more extroverted individual you thrived off seeing your friends, plus both your parents worked as nurses. You were going to be alone.

The first few weeks went by pretty fast, managing to keep up a routine by going out for runs and making yourself eat at certain times. Even keeping in touch with your friends from the boys volleyball team as well as Kiyoko, one of your closest friends. However, after this fairly stable period you had a really bad day. Nothing went your way, blender… broken, guess you weren't having a smoothie this morning. After that frustrating incident Tanaka and Noya decided to start poking fun at you in the group chat, which you were NOT in the mood for. Group chat… Muted. It was also raining extremely heavy so you decided maybe a well deserved rest day was in order, throwing on the TV you flopped down on the couch to start your film marathon.

5am. That was the time it was when you finally passed out on the couch. How did you end up staying up that late, Harry Potter. Why you thought it was a good idea to start watching the films you don’t know, but you managed to watch them all, all 19 hours of them. That was all it took to mess your routine up for the next month, not waking up till 2-3pm everyday just to lounge around. Barely keeping in touch with anyone, you hadn’t talked in the groupchat for close to 3 weeks, hardly even thinking about eating anything but snacks.

Luckily you had a saving grace, Daichi. After going MIA , the third year’s started to get worried about you, especially Kiyoko. She had dmed you multiple times and got nothing in return, mainly because you saw the messages but forgot to reply. You were a whole ass mess to put it plainly.

~ 3rd Years Group Chat ~

Kiyoko - I’m worried about [y/n]...

Suga - Tell me about it, she hasn’t been in the chat for weeks

Daichi - Have you tried dming her?

Kiyoko - She is ignoring me, she hasn’t replied to one of my messages

Asahi - Maybe she’s just busy?

Daichi - In the middle of lockdown…

Suga - Yeah thats unlikely

Kiyoko - Can one of you dm her as well? I just want to make sure she’s ok?

Daichi - I can... i’ll let you know if she replies and if she doesn’t Asahi or Suga can try

Having received a concerned message from Daichi, you realised how much you had lost track of everything and anything. Replying to both him and Kiyoko apologising and explaining you had just forgotten to press send. Although Daichi wanted to believe that was the case he couldn’t, instead of being upfront about it though he started messaging you throughout the day. Just small things asking if you had eaten and if you were staying hydrated, little did he know that this helped you get back into a better rhythm of lockdown life.

You slowly fixed your sleep schedule and got back to eating 3 meals a day. Although you hadn’t managed to get back into running, your talks with Daichi slowly got more frequent and for longer periods of time. The more you talked to him the more motivated you started to feel, eventually you got back into your running routine. It no longer became the odd message to make sure you were eating, but full day conversations about anything you could think of. Eventually you started relying on talking to him to cure your lockdown loneliness, a day without talking to him was not a good day for you. Daichi being the fairly observant person that he is, started to realise and eventually bought it up.

Daichi :) - Hey [y/n], I've been meaning to bring something up with you, you mind if we call?

[y/n] - Yeah sure Dai, just call me whenever i don’t exactly have anything going on

Receiving this was like a bullet to the chest, worrying what it could be about you pulled your knees up to your chest steadying your breathing. As you were lost in your head, your phone started ringing. Answering it you heard his voice for the first time in close to 3 months, it was music to your ears. Slowly over these 2 months you had grown fond of the boy, but you had quickly dismissed the idea of anything forming between each other. Both having different priorities in life, being scared of rejection also didn’t help.

After an hour and a half of deep conversation, a couple tears shed but more laughter at the end. You collapsed backwards onto your bed, he had found out everything. How your parents were barely home, always doing long shifts at the hospital, how you felt like you had no one during those 3 weeks you were MIA. Most importantly though you had confessed that talking to him was like receiving a warm hug. It's exactly what you needed at this time, obviously you would love an actual hug as well but that's pretty hard from a 2m distance.

~ 1 week later ~

Your eyes went wide as they announced on the news that lockdown was starting to be lifted, you were now allowed to meet up with people outside at a safe distance. Smiling you quickly messaged Daichi telling him how excited you were that restrictions were finally being lifted.

Daichi :) - That's Great [y/n]!! So.. you fancy going on a socially distanced pic-nic tomorrow? Don’t worry about bringing anything but yourself. I got the rest covered, obviously if you're ok with that?😃

Reading the text over multiple times, pinching yourself to make sure it was real. You hadn’t seen Daichi in close to 3 months, and within that time you had developed feelings. What would it be like seeing him in person now, generally being awkward with past crushes, you started to worry about scaring him away. You couldn’t do that, you needed him. Taking a couple paces around the room thinking about what to reply, before realising you were most definitely overthinking it. He didn’t see you that way…

[y/n] - Yeah sure! Just let me know a time and place, i will be there

Daichi - 1pm at the park round the corner from your house?

[y/n] - See you there!!

The next morning you woke up with a huge smile plastered on your face, excited for the day ahead. Jumping out of bed and rummaging through your wardrobe you pulled out a cute summer dress, not too dressy but showed you put effort in none the less. The summer dress was red and was covered in little white flowers, you had only worn it a couple times and decided it needed another outing.

Walking down your road and around the corner to the park, the wind hitting your face made you feel like maybe the world was getting back to normal. As you walked through the gates, you noticed Daichi stood over by a slightly more wooded area, smiling as you made your way over to him. Greeting each other you forgot how much his laugh and smile made it seem like nothing else mattered, making your heart beat faster in your chest. He ended up leading you through the woods and into a small opening which had 2 picnic blankets laid down at the appropriate distance. As you got closer you noticed that there were sandwiches, fruit and small cakes on both.

‘You didn’t have to do this Daichi you know? A simple sandwich would have been fine?’ You started smiling at him, no one had ever gone to this much effort for you and honestly you felt bad. ‘It must have taken you a bit to set this up…’

‘Oh no, honestly don’t worry about it… i wanted to, neither have been out in a while so i figured why not?’ The laugh that came out sounded almost nervous, which confused you slightly… Was he really as nervous as you?

The afternoon went by quicker than both of you wanted. Chatting, cracking jokes and eating, which the food Daichi had made was really good. You had asked why he had never told you about his clear culinary skills, apparently this was the first time he had attempted something like this. Trying not to get too far ahead of yourself when he had mentioned this, even though you were freaking out. Mainly chatting about quarantine life and how you missed being out of lockdown, being able to socialise freely and do whatever you wanted.

You only realised how long you had been with Daichi when it started to get dark, letting him know you should probably be getting back. Even though in reality you could have stayed there for the rest of the night and into the early morning. Helping him pack everything up occasionally sneaking glances at him, wishing you could pull him into a hug or give him a peck on the cheek. Just to let him know how much he had helped you over the past month. Sadly you couldn’t, once everything had been packed away Daichi (being the gentleman that he is) offered to walk you back.

‘I had a really good afternoon, thank you for this Daichi…’ Smiling at him as you walk up to your front door.

‘Would you want to do something like this again maybe?’ The way he looked at you, his eyes almost pleading, with a slight smile gracing his lips. This made your heart instantly melt.

‘If you want to? I would love that!’

‘[y/n]... why would i ask if i didn’t want to?’ Raising a brow at you playfully.

‘Shut up you dork, i’ll see you soon then!’ Laughing as you walk through your door giving him a wave before closing it and sliding down it on the other side, trying to calm your heart that was about to burst through your chest.

Another couple weeks past, you had only met up with Daichi once more, but both were still texting all day with the occasional call. You also had met up with Kiyoko within these weeks, explaining your situation. She thought it was really funny how much you were worrying about it because to her it seemed obvious that he returned your feelings. You were still completely denying this fact though, it was something your brain really couldn’t fathom. However, the next day lockdown was reduced once again, you were now allowed to have people in your house from other families.

Being as excitable as you were and the fact your parents were out almost all of the time, you rattled off a text to Daichi asking him if he fancied a chill movie marathon night? Both of you deciding to watch The Hobbit trilogy later on in the evening. Hopping up from the couch you started cleaning the house, preparing snacks and setting up pillows as well as blankets on the couch. Seen as though it was a chill night you had decided on a pair of grey sweats and a plain v-neck t-shirt, that was tied so it wasn’t too long.

You had just finished setting everything up when there was a knock at the door, practically running to get it. Opening the door to his smiling face made something snap and you don’t know what came over yourself as you jumped into his arms, wrapping your own around him. Luckily he was quick to catch you.

‘What did i do to deserve this hug?’ He chuckles to himself as you nuzzle into his neck.

‘Everything. Daichi I owe you so much, you don’t even understand’ Letting out a sigh, he closes the door and carries you over to the couch. Placing you down next to him as you pout at him, sad that the hug was over so soon. You had waited for so long to be wrapped up in his arms and when you finally get the chance it barely lasts 2 minutes.

‘Listen Daichi… you have helped me so much over the past few months, and honestly…’ Taking a breath to figure out how to phrase your next words, however before you could say anything else he had pulled you back into his chest.

‘I like you too dork…’ Frozen in his arms, how long had he known… How long had he liked you back? All you could do in that moment was snake your arms round him and enjoy each other's company as he started the first film.

~ BONUS ~

‘How long have you liked me Daichi?’ You question him half way through the first film.

‘About 6 months give or take why?’ He turns his attention towards you and gives you a quick head kiss, before looking back to the film.

‘6 months… that's before we went into lockdown..?’

He hums, smirking at your clearly oblivious nature, as your brain was spiralling thinking about how many signals you missed.

Tags: @super-noya @stcrryskies @iwaxme @bb-noya @vventure @ardorwrites-hq-mha @scorpiosanssexy

#Daichi #sawamura daichi #daichi owns my whole ass heart #haikyuu #daichi #daichi sawamura #haikyuu fanfic #hq fanfic #daichi x reader #sawamura daichi x you #i am in love with this man #fanfic #oneshot #hq writing #daichi writing #daichi x you #haikyuu x you #hq daichi #hq anime

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summerwritesfics · 3 years

Text

🎧Song Inspired Shorts - Happy Little Boozer

Pairing & Characters: Erron Black/Kuai Liang, Johnny Cage Length: 1068 words Rating: Mature, bordering on Explicit Content/Warnings: Drinking/Alcohol, Drunken Flirting, Sober Character briefly considers having sex with a character too drunk to consent (Nothing is acted upon, but it is touched on briefly), Sexual Language/Mentions of Sex Song: Happy Little Boozer - Korpiklaani

Song Inspired Shorts Masterlist

He sees himself as the saviour of the world, His will is strong and he's feeling good, I've known him since the first taste of beer, I will meet him many times in a year, Happy little, Happy little, Happy little boozer

There was something oddly endearing about watching Grandmaster Sub Zero get drunk.

The man was usually so stoic and so closed off, at least that's how he seemed to Erron, that seeing him in any other state was almost humanising. The fearful cryomancer was just as susceptible to alcohol as anyone else was.

So watching Sub Zero genuinely giggle, and sway with effort of keeping himself up on his feet was fairly entertaining. Watching him drunkly try and tell his comrades that he was thankful to have them in his life was adorable. Him trying to explain to Cassie how proud he was of her and her team was also slightly hilarious.

And quite frankly all that seemed almost right, he wouldn't have expected it, but it seemed the natural progression of Sub Zero's character.

So when Sub Zero finally managed to stumble to where he was, Erron wasn't sure what to expect, but had a good feeling about it.

Sub Zero swayed on his feet for a few seconds, before finally deciding to keep hold of the bar for stabilisation was for the best. He looked at Erron for a few seconds, before a strange smile came over his face and he slurred “Hellooooo, Black~”

“Howdey,” He replied, tilting his hat and earning a little snicker for his trouble. “How can I help you Grandmaster?”

“You know,” Sub Zero started, suddenly looking quite serious, and reaching his hand to Erron's cheek. “Y'should... Um... Should keep your mask off more often.”

“Oh really?” he replied with a smirk, reaching up to hold Sub Zero's hand that was still on his face. “And why's that?”

“Cause your actually really rather handsome,” Sub Zero stumbled forward slightly, and Erron just about managed to catch him. “And... You have really pretty eyes... but you don't wear a mask over your eyes so it's not a big deal...”

Erron couldn't help the absolutely stupid grin plastering his face, apparently, as well as being an affectionate drunk, the Grandmaster of the Lin Kuei was also a flirty drunk. And Erron was the person he'd decided to flirt with.

Erron managed to swing the shorter man's arms over his shoulders before wrapping his own around Sub Zero's waist. Face to face like this he could see the glossed over look in Kuai's eyes and the blush heating up his cheeks. God he's fucking wasted, we've only been here a couple of hours, how much has he drunk?

“Oh yeah?” He opted not to point out to Sub Zero how drunk he was, instead focusing on the fact he was being flirted with. “Well, I reckon you should leave your mask off too, seems an awful shame to hide such a cute face.”

Sub Zero started to laugh again, leaning his head against Erron's chest. “You smell good too,” He added, slightly muffled since his face was covered by Erron's clothes.

“Ain't you a sweetheat,” he replied, feeling Sub Zero's chest heaving up and down, clearly still laughing.

To say he was tempted was an understatement. He hadn't gotten laid in almost 6 months and here was someone practically giving it away. Normally he wouldn't have given it much thought, because by this point he would have been equally as drunk. But he wasn't even tipsy, while Sub Zero was so intoxicated he seemed ready to collapse. The image of an angry cryomancer chasing his ass, more than a little peeved that he'd been taken advantage of, was quite a vivid one. He didn't really want to take the chance.

“Alright darlin' as much as I would love to see you in my bed...” Sub Zero snorted at that, clearly amused by, or maybe even liking, the idea, “I think that may have to wait 'til your a lil more on the sober side.”

“Mmm, maybe~” Sub Zero allowed himself to be manhandled until Erron was supporting his weight and practically dragging him across the room to someone from Earthrealm who could hopefully make sure the man got back to his temple in one piece. “Mmmaybe you should come visit me... Cause I really think I'd like to try ridin' you, cowboy~”

Oh boy.

“Well, hardly an offer I can refuse, ain't it?” He finally made his way to Johnny Cage, who looks across at them with an unsure look. “Cage, uh... The grandmaster here might be a lil' drunk right now. Think you can make sure he gets home okay?”

“Jesus really?” Johnny questions, walking over and frowning while he tipped Sub Zero's head back. “Hey Ice Cube, you doing alright there?”

“Johnny!” Sub Zero suddenly exclaimed, finally pulled away from Erron and engulfing Johnny in a hug instead. “I d-don't get to tell you much... But... But I love you~ You are the best friend~ Love you so much...”

Sub Zero's speech dissolved into mumbles as Johnny blinked a couple of times. “Uh... How much have you had to drink?”

“I think... Think I've had 6 glasses of wine and... And Cassandra said... We played a game... And had shots... so I had about 10...” There was a beat of silence. “Or maybe 20...”

“Ah. I see, guy who rarely gets drunk, thus is a lightweight is introduced to drinking games, no wonder your almost paralytic mate,” Johnny commented finally managing to pry Sub Zero off him and instead managed to get him into a similar position Sub Zero had previously been with Erron. “Thanks... For looking out for him. I'll make sure he gets home.”

“My thanks,” Erron replied with another tip of his hat, as Johnny started to try and convinced Sub Zero to walk with him. Before they turned away completely Sub Zero managed to turn his attention to Erron one last time.

“Remember to come visit me, handsome cowboy~” Sub Zero reminded, before blowing Erron a kiss. Erron had a bite his lip, while Johnny managed to finally get the other man to stumble away with him. Erron swore he could hear Sub Zero reiterating the point that he loved Johnny and his friendship once again.

The question of if Sub Zero would even remember inviting him to his temple barely crossed his mind, in his head, he was already making plans for his next bout of free time and the journey to Earthrealm.

#Mortal Kombat #ErronSub #Sub Zero #Kuai Liang #Erron Black #Johnny Cage #🎧song inspired shorts

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tiffdawg · 4 years

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Hey Tiff, here for the mod mfk game 😊

I'll try and make this short! I tend to babble. Apologies for the inevitable.

I'm INFP-T (mediator). When I originally took the test, I sent it to all my female friends to take because I wanted to know their types 😂 (I didn't think my male friends would give a sh*t).

I hold strong opinions, I know my faults, I find it hard to ackowledge my good traits, I've been through a fair deal of trauma and abandonment (lol), I deal with my baggage through humor (and lots of therapy, too), I used to see myself as a poor sad girl but have grown to see I'm far more than that (thank f*ck), I swear daily but probably less than I did when I was a teen (and I had a filthy mouth then), I dealt with the death of a close relative at a fairly critical time in my mental development and so I think I have a fair view on death and how to comfort someone going through that, if they desire it from me. I am quite proud of how present I was for that relative when they were dying, even if I didn't truly understand what they were going through, at the time, I hope they were comforted by me spending so much time with them.

Less dark sh*t: I love to sing, even though my voice is shrill and can actually pierce my ears at times (so I try not to do it around others ((like it took 4 years to sing infront of my partner!)). I'm infatuated with the filmmaking process and general processes behind creating worlds on screen and page. (I was around 8 when I asked for my first prop replica as a birthday/christmas gift. I just love props and the work and detail that goes into making stuff for sets/costume etc. That's like thee subject that will get my passion fired up all the way. I buzz.) I can be really dumb, something that's developed with age. My mind will just omit information when I'm trying to form a sentence or reference to something. It's probably down to poor concentration (and one summer I smoked a bunch of weed every other day.)

Umm yeah. I f*cking love coffee. I can have up to 4 a day (either just black or a soy cappucino). It's one of my only dirty habits, really. (I rarely drink alcohol, smoke, or take drugs, bar that summer.)

When I was younger I took a couple of psychology courses 'cause ain't the brain fascinating? The subjects I got high marks on, in high school, were Literature, History, Creative Arts, and Science. I sucked at maths but was placed in a higher intelligence class because I was in those for other classes and the timetables for lower sets clashed (it honestly sucked. Like my tutor even said 'you shouldn't be in this class'. Thanks dude!). I dropped out of college because I had severe PTSD, and am yet to go back 👎I don't think I want to.

I have a couple of tattoos. I prefer the summer to winter. I love house plants but I'm terrible at keeping them alive. If I'm travelling somewhere where the main language isn't english I will learn that language! I have an extensive vinyl collection. I'm annoying.

I'LL SHUT UP NOW SORRY I AM SO SO SORRY FOR THIS DUMB INFORMATION THANK U FOR READING I BET YOU PAIR ME WITH FRANKIE. I USUALLY GET FRANKIE OR DIN 😂

Ezra + Rivals to Lovers

You and Ezra first met while harvesting gems on a small moon. Two loquacious leaders on competing teams, neither were surprised when the confrontation ended in a shootout. Despite your past and the nature of life as a floater, you held your head high and held strong morals. You didn’t compromise for anyone. Especially not a sharp-tongued man with wicked intentions.

The fifth time you crossed paths with Ezra, you noticed the blade of your knife had left a white scar on his cheek, marring his handsome features. Pride swelled in your chest. And the smirk on his face told you he knew exactly what was on your mind.

It went on and on like that for years. Your heated encounters became a regular occurrence and even as he tried to kill you, he was perhaps the only reliable person in your life. You tried and tested each other, pushed the other to their limits, and offered a tether for your wandering souls.

Somewhere along the line, things changed. In the most inopportune moment on a planet with a toxic atmosphere, your breathing apparatus malfunctioned. Fate was not on your side, but Ezra was.

As you laid on your cot one night in your run-down pod, you realized you hadn’t run into the prospector for a few months. Your heart sank in your chest as you imagined all of the things that could’ve happened to him. You lived a dangerous life. Loosing people, friends and rivals alike, was expected. Something you were well accustomed to. That was why you kept yourself so closed off and kept everyone at a distance. So how did Ezra, of all the people in the galaxy, have such a hold on you?

You sat in a canteen aboard the ship taking you to your next harvest, pushing around the food on your tray with your fork. Your mind was elsewhere as you desperately tried to plot a new course for your life as you knew you couldn’t do this any longer. You didn’t even look up when someone sat across from you until you heard that familiar, deep baritone.

“I have missed you, birdie.” Your head snapped up. Eyes never settling, you took him in, not able to believe that he was real. That he had returned to you. With tired eyes, a few new scars, and only one arm, he looked… well, he looked like shit. “Might I inquire where you are headed next in this vast and ever-expanding galaxy?”

“Somewhere warm,” you said with what voice you could muster. “Somewhere safe. Somewhere… with you.”

You held your breath as you waited for his answer, prepared for rejection. Surely, after all these years contently at each other’s throats, you’d misread the situation. He hummed a little as he nodded thoughtfully, but the glimmer in his dark eyes gave him away. A smile pulled at your lips.

“In all my years, I have never struck such a fortune as the day I met you,” he grinned.

#tiff answers #anon 💌#fanfic game 💞#please don’t send any more requests in! im just finishing the ones sitting in my inbox

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katedrakeohd · 5 years

Text

Christmas Love ~ Part Two

[A Very Valtorian Christmas Masterlist]

Rated: Mature for Adult Themes, Angst, talk of Depression and Emotional distress during pregnancy, otherwise this story is all fluff and good stuff.

(I suck at trigger warnings, so I apologize in advance)

A special shout out to @drakeandcamilleofvaltoria for the drake & kate in a bathtub story challenge. 😊

Tagging:

@jlpplays1 @walker7519 @drakesensworld @kimmiedoo5 @speedyoperarascalparty @furiousherringoperatortoad @drakeandcamilleofvaltoria @jovialyouthmusic @samihatuli @kingliam2019

@fromthedeskofpaisleybleakmore @sirbeepsalot @dcbbw @desiree---1986 @emceesynonymroll @wickedgypsymoon @gardeningourmet @indiacater @bobasheebaby @loveellamae @rainbowsinthestorm @burnsoslow @mskaneko @bbrandy2002 @jessiembruno @emichelle @griselda1121 @msjpuddleduck @princess-andromeda-nazario @princess-geek @princessleac1 @addictedtodrakefanfic @janezillow @nikkis1983 @texaskitten30 @debramcg1106 @moonlightgem7 @be-still-my-aching-heart @walkerswhiskeygirl

With a sigh Drake looks around the bedroom. The bed clothes were wrecked from their play wrestling, and the girls in the laundry were going to fuss over the wrinkled sheets, but he had other concerns. Kate hadn't come back from the bathroom yet. Had he been too rough? He knew he got carried away sometimes, and today he had awoken Kate earlier than usual. Setting his phone and the bag of cookie treats on the bedside table, he walks over to the bathroom to check on her.

To his surprise the door is ajar and he hangs back for a moment to watch his wife. She was standing at the sink in her pale silk dressing gown dabbing at her face with a damp wash cloth. Her eyes looked sad as they met his in the mirror. Her gaze shifted back down to look at the water in the sink as he eased the door open and entered the bathroom.

“Kate?” he says in a low voice, his face softening with concern. Stepping up beside her he turns and leans against the marble counter, “Honey what's wrong?”

Still looking down at the sink Kate shrugs and then starts rambling, “I don't know, just feeling a little overwhelmed I guess. I was looking in the mirror at myself, standing in this gilded and fancy bathroom that belongs to a Duchess, and wondering what a nobody waitress from a New York dive bar was doing in such a place. A pregnant waitress, pretending to be a Duchess, who is going to birth a child that is destined to rule a country. It all seems so bizarre considering where my life was headed just a year ago. What do I know about running a Duchy, or about being a Mother to royalty?”

Drake reaches out and gently cups her cheeks in his hands, wiping away her tears with his thumbs and tilting her face up to look at him.

“Kate, our Duchy is fairly self sufficient, there isn't much you really need to do. And the Mother part… I’m going to be with you every step of the way, you aren’t ever going to be raising our child alone. We're both new at this and we'll figure this out together, and we've no shortage of help whether it's friendly advice from those who love us or the help of our Manor staff. There are healthcare professionals, counselors and support people to guide us in Parenting if we need it. There are political advisers and tons of community support to help us keep the Duchy running smoothly. There's nothing for you to worry about.”

Seeing the calm and loving expression on Drake's face, and knowing that he's making perfect sense, brings fresh tears of gratitude. His tone isn’t condescending or teasing just honest and full of love. Kate covers her face with her hands. “I'm so sorry. You must think I'm so foolish and crazy.”

Drake pulls her into his arms as she continues crying against his shoulder. “Sshh, you're not foolish or crazy. You're only human Kate, and I love you. You're growing a whole other human in that beautiful body of yours and you have every right to get emotional about it.”

The thin material of her robe offers little warmth and Drake realizes how cool her hands are as she cuddles into his chest. “My gosh, Kate you're freezing. We really need to find a way to heat this bathroom better. Let me draw you a warm bath, and then we can talk some more.”

Kate nods wiping at her puffy eyes and sniffing back her tears as she steps back. Drake grabs a bath sheet and wraps it around her shoulders, “Here hold onto this while I draw us a bath.”

“Us?” Kate asks quietly, wiping her nose on the corner of the towel.

Drake chuckles quietly, leaning over to turn on the taps on their large soaker tub. “Well who else is going to wash your back for you?”

“You're so sweet to me Drake, I bet other husbands don't do this for their wives.”

Drake fetches Kate's favorite shampoo and body wash out of the shower, “Well they should.”

As Kate watches, he places the shampoo and body wash on the side of the tub along with another bath towel for himself. Reaching into the bathwater he tests the temperature and then sits down on the edge of the tub to wait for it to fill.

Kate shifts from side to side, rubbing one cold foot against the other. How Drake could walk around naked in the chilly marble tiled bathroom and not shiver was baffling to her.

Drake glances down at her shuffling feet, “The floor does get cold in here doesn't it? I think we should invest in some infloor heating.”

Kate nods, “I suppose in the meantime I could get some slippers.”

Drake turns off the taps, and then walks over to Kate. Wrapping his arm around her shoulders he places a kiss on her temple. He grasps the edge of her towel in his fingers, “May I?”

Kate lets go of her towel and Drake pulls it away with a flourish, quickly folding it and placing it next to his. Untying her robe, he slips it down off of her shoulders and it melts into a puddle at her feet. Kate gasps and instinctually wraps her arms around his ribs to soak up some of his body heat.

Cradling her gently around the back he tilts his face down and closes his eyes, smiling against her lips as she tilts her face up to meet his. Their kisses are soft and unhurried, lips parting for each other under gentle pressure as they meet again and again. Once Kate feels warmed all over, she tips her head back and whispers, “Thank you, I needed that.”

Drake nods, “Mmhmm, I know. Ready for your bath?”

Kate nods and Drake steps back and then dips down to scoop her up in his arms. Kate holds onto his neck and shoulders as he turns and gently places her down into the warm water. Scooting forward a little she allows him room to climb in behind her. Drake settles down into the warm water with a sigh, drawing up his knees and Kate slides back to lean against his chest. Lifting his hand face up out of the water and resting it on his knee, Kate takes the silent hint and places her hand in his lacing their fingers together. Tugging his arm back to hug against her chest, she kisses the back of his hand. He dips his head down to kiss her shoulder. They sit quietly like this for a few minutes, watching the steam rise from the water. Kate breaks the silence first, “So what did Preston want?”

Drake presses more kisses against her shoulder and neck, working his way up to her ear. “He brought me my phone, that I'd left in the SUV yesterday, and for you he brought a special treat.”

Kate caresses up and down his thigh, raising her eyebrows with surprise, “Ooh, what kind of treat?”

Drake squeezes her hips gently with his thighs and kisses her on the cheek, “Oh, something round, sweet, green and Italian.”

Kate frowns in thought, “Sweet, green..and Italian?”

Drake sweeps her hair off to the side, kissing the back of her neck. “Remember the last time we visited Rome? We went into that sweet shop and you fell in love with the Pistachio Almond cookies on the sample tray?”

Kate gasps as she remembers, “You got me Peluso's Pistakì cookies?”

Drake smiles as he reaches for her bottle of body wash and the bath sponge. “Mmhmm, I asked Preston to enquire about them at the candy shop in town. I told him to tell them that they were your favorite cookie and asked if they could get them in stock.”

“Oh Drake, that's the best gift ever. Now I don't have to go all the way to Italy to find them. How did you know I was craving them?”

“I've watched you nibbling on bowls of mixed nuts and trail mix lately, and there always seemed to be almonds and pistachios mixed in along with your chocolate covered raisins and cranberries.”

Kate blushes as she gnaws on her bottom lip. “So you've caught onto my cravings for sweets then?”

Drake uncaps her body wash and squirts some on the sponge. “Uh huh. But you've seemed to keep it on the healthy side for the most part. As far as I can tell. So kudos to you.”

Kate thinks back to the cookies and milk and gum drops she was snacking on yesterday. Hana made sure to save as many green candies for Kate as possible. Kate nods, glad that Drake can't see the guilty expression on her face, “Yes, yes I try to.”

Drake knows she's lying but lets it slide. “Want to sit forward so I can wash your back and shoulders?”

Kate scoots forward in the tub, enjoying the scent of orange blossoms and vanilla as Drake washes her shoulders. Watching the creamy foam slide down over her breasts as they rise out of the water reminds her of ice cream. Breathing deeply and closing her eyes, Kate suddenly has a craving for an Orange Creamsicle.

Drake drags the sponge underneath the water and rubs Kate's back with it, bringing a moan of satisfaction to her lips. “Mmm, that feels so good. Why do you do so much for me?”

Drake wets down her hair with the sponge and then hands the sponge forward and reaches for her shampoo. “Cuz, it's my job.”

“I didn't know bath buddy was part of the Duke of Valtoria job description.” Kate giggles as Drake runs his fingers through her hair.

“No, but it's on page three of the husband and lover handbook.”

Kate bends her knees up and scrubs down her legs with her sponge. “That's funny. I've never seen that book in the library before.”

“It's in the special ‘Guys only’ section.”

Kate closes her eyes as Drake lathers up her hair, “So if bath duties are on page three, what's on page one and two?”

Drake smirks, as he scoops water up in his hands and rinses out her hair, “Sorry that's classified information.”

“Ok, point taken. So what other surprises should I expect on our first Christmas day?”

“I dunno, you'll have to wait and see. Oh just to clarify, you didn't really want a pony did you? Because we could always add one to the stables.”

Kate laughs, turning around in the tub to kneel between his thighs and lean in for a kiss. “No silly, you're my pony.”

Drake grins, sliding his hands down to cup her ass as she giggles between his kisses, “And what about the rockets and fireworks?”

Kate gasps with delight, wrapping her arms around his neck, “Ooh, could we really have fireworks?”

Drake squeezes her ass and teases butterfly kisses across her cheeks and nose, “Not for Christmas, but maybe for New Year's Eve.”

“Ooh, they would be so pretty to set off over the lake.”

Drake nods, “Sounds like a plan, consider it done.”

---

Later, all warm and cozy in flannel pjs and sitting cross legged on the bed, Kate opens up her package of cookies. “It's a shame I can't have a cup of coffee with these. I miss coffee.”

Drake wanders out of the closet dressed in a pair of track pants, “We could get some decaf sent up from the kitchen. Or maybe some tea. I know I could use a coffee too.”

Kate unwraps a cookie and bites into it, closing her eyes and savoring the sweet flavor, “Mmm, these are heavenly. Do you want one?”

Drake watches her lick the powdered sugar off her lip. “Maybe later. Don't eat too many of those we still have to make an appearance at breakfast.”

Kate pouts as she finishes off her cookie. “Oh fine, just one….or maybe two. One for me and one for Little One.” Kate rubs her belly affectionately as she reaches into the packaging for another cookie.

Drake walks over to the bedside to check his phone, there's a light flashing indicating messages. “Damn, it's almost dead.”

He opens the bedside drawer to fish out his charger. Sitting down on the edge of the bed he hears the rustle of another cookie being opened. He sighs and then glances over his shoulder at Kate. “I thought Little One, or whatever was only having one cookie.”

Kate looks away, brushing some pistachio crumbles off of her chest. “Sorry.”

Shaking his head, Drake rests his elbows on his knees and thumbs through the messages on his phone. “Seriously, save room for breakfast. Oh look.. it seems that Bertrand and Savannah won't be coming to our Christmas dinner after all.”

Kate raises her eyebrows, mumbling around a cheekfull of cookie, “Aww, why not?”

“Bartie's sick and they don't want to travel with him and get us sick too.”

Drake turns and snatches away the box of cookies, “You're gonna make yourself sick eating so many of these. Can't be good for Little One.”

Kate tears up a little at his gruff scolding, “Hey those are mine! We're hungry.” She rubs her belly and pouts.

Drake frowns rubbing at his forehead with his thumb and fingers, “Quit it already with the childishness. Besides using the nickname ‘Little One’ over and over again is bugging the hell out of me. We need to pick out baby names or something.”

Kate looks down at the bedspread as she picks at the crumbs around her, “Actually Hana helped me pick out names yesterday.”

Drake sighs with annoyance, tossing his phone down on the bed. “Hana helped you.”

Kate shrugs avoiding eye contact with Drake, “And Nicholas…I'm sorry, I know you wanted for us to do that together.”

Drake's nerves bristle at the mention of Nicholas helping pick names for his heir. He and Kate had been adamant that their baby was to be raised as they saw fit, and that the heir to the throne business shouldn't be a priority until it really needed to be. “You let him pick names instead of me?”

Kate tries to diffuse Drake's anger before it got any worse, “Not exactly. He just supervised as Hana and I researched names from Cordonian noble history. We were just throwing around the idea of reviving an old name that would help our child connect to the past.”

The idea of his child being named after some long dead stuffy noble grated on Drake's nerves even more. “So we could instill a sense of stuffy pretentiousness in our child from day one?! You've got to be kidding.”

Kate sighs, her stomach feeling queasy, and her baby moving about adding to her growing discomfort, “Look, it's just a list of names. It's not a binding contract or a damn yoke around our baby's neck. You have the right to veto any name you don't like or toss the whole list away and we can start a new one. I'm sorry Drake, really I am. I didn't realize you would get so upset.”

Drake's phone vibrated on the bed and he picked it up to check it. With a groan he runs his fingers through his hair, giving it a tug and then letting go. “Well Fuck, if that doesn't add insult to injury.”

Kate looks on with concern, “Now what?”

“Olivia has invited herself to dinner.”

#long post #drake x kate #a very valtorian christmas #trh fanfic #drake walker

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littlelostdemonofthelight · 5 years

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Can you hold me?

So here’s another thing I wrote. The ending is probably not that great because I was struggling on how to end it for like a whole day so it is what it is. I tried describing a panic/anxiety attack, but I honestly didn’t realize how hard that would be. Also the title totally isn’t the song that was playing when I stopped writing it actually totally is.

Pairing: Asra x MC

Word count: 1146

Warnings: Anxiety/panic attack. I think that’s the only thing.

I had begun pacing not long ago, books blurring in my peripheral as I moved passed them. I was growing frustrated with my mind again, frustrated with my lost memories. It was a passing comment made by one of the servants, something about their family, that caused my mind to start racing. There were days it was easy for me to just go about everything as if I wasn’t missing years of my past, and then there were days where I couldn’t stop my mind from wandering and contemplating what my life could have been like before I woke up three years ago. I had kept my mind together fairly easily so far, taking my time to go through Julian's old desk or reading one of the many books that called to me, simple things to keep my mind busy. Those things just didn’t seem to be working anymore though.

I moved to the large windows that overlooked the palace gardens, taking in the midday sun that reflected off of the many plants. As I gazed outwards my mind wandered to Asra, wondering where he had traveled to this time, what adventures he was going on and if he was safe. I missed him, but I could never bring myself to be angry with him for traveling when he has done so much for me. A heavy sigh escaped my lips as I ran a hand down my face as I sat myself on the plush cushions below the window. Perhaps I should just go and talk with Nadia, tell her I haven’t found anything of use I the old desk and that no matter how many times I’ve searched the stacks nothing new was discovered. How long have I been locked away in here? It couldn’t have been more than a day, although the library was fairly dark depending on where I was so I haven't always had the suns position the help keep track. Has anyone realized that I wasn’t in my chambers or even wandering around the castle? Did they know where I was?

I hadn’t realized my breath suddenly become faster, or that it had become shallow and prevented the needed oxygen from reaching my lungs. My fingers grew numb and were trembling, the walls felt like they were closing in around me pressing into me. My magic flared around me causing frost to coat my surroundings, and the tears that flowed down my cheeks seemed to freeze in place. I tried wiping them away, rubbing harshly at my cheeks, hoping to clear the evidence of my breakdown away. I wanted Asra here, I wanted him to hold me close and tell me things would be alright but that wouldn’t be happening this time. I could feel my chest get tighter as the panic surged through me, sobs now falling freely past my lips as I couldn’t hold it back any longer.

“(y/n).” Gentle hands held my face, guiding it upwards, violet eyes meeting mine. I was so wrapped up in my thoughts and feelings that I hadn’t heard him enter the library nor had I heard him approach. He was talking to me, mouth moving but I couldn’t focus enough to register what was being said. Faust moved on his shoulders, poking her head out of his scarf to look at me.

“Friend.”

“(y/n), you’re okay. I need you to breath with me.” Asra took one of my hands and placed it on his chest, just above his heart, to help focus my breathing. The rise and fall of his breath was soothing but everything around me was still fuzzy and cold keeping my attention from being fully placed on him. My panic filled eyes met his again, silently asking him to help me, do something else to distract me. His arms slowly made their way around me, giving me the chance to pull away if it was too much, and locking securely around my waist. I pressed my face into his neck and hugged his middle, taking everything in about him that I've missed in his absence.

The minutes ticked on as we both sat on the cushions, my breathing slowly beginning to steady allowing my mind to calm. Asra’s voice was steady and low in my ear, regaling tales of his adventures and all the things he had come across. I swallowed thickly and removed my face from its hiding spot in his neck, keeping my eyes glued to the shelves behind him. “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t need to be sorry.” He murmured hands ghosting down my arms to take my hands in his, intertwining our fingers. “When Nadia sent word to me that you hadn’t been seen in a few days I got so worried.”

The frost around us had finally melted away, warming the air around us and Faust had poked her head back out of the confines of Asra’s clothing.

‘Okay?’

“I’m okay now.” I smiled watching her slither down from her perch and come to rest on my lap. I gently pet her, fingers trailing along the smooth scales of her body making her release a happy hiss. Asra had remained silent during our interaction, eyes glued to my face unsure if I was actually alright. “I am sorry though, I should have told Nadia I needed to go back to the shop for a few days or something but I just..I couldn’t bring myself to go to her.”

“You’re okay now (y/n), that's all that matters right now. I need you need to take care of yourself before anything else. I don’t want you putting this investigation above your health, I can’t lo-” He cut himself off then releasing one of my hands to run his through his hair, eyes flickering between me and the surrounding area. He took a deep breath before continuing, “Just be careful okay?”

I reached out, placing my hand gently on his face giving him what comfort I could. His eyes fell shut as he leaned into my palm and I couldn’t stop myself from running the fingers of my other hand through his hair. I couldn’t help but find the humor in our roles being switched as I began humming a song I always caught him singing under his breath as he worked in the shop.

“You shouldn’t be the one comforting me, yet here we are.” He teased causing a blush to spread over my cheeks.

“Fine I’ll comfort Faust then.” Picking up the snake I cuddled her to my chest turning my body away from him trying to hide my smile.

“Hey now I didn’t mean that I didn't like it.” He scrambled closer to me and pulling me back into his chest, arms wrapped tightly around me. I couldn’t help the laugh that escaped that only increased when Asra joined in.

#Asra x mc #the arcana x mc #asra x apprentice #asra x reader #the arcana #the arcana asra #the arcana writing #the arcana imagines #the arcana x reader #asra the magician #Asra The Magican #the arcana game #asra alnazar #demonwrites

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ladylike-foxes · 5 years

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Thank you, Anon!! ❤️❤️ Have some awkward Solavellan hurt+care and a weird Dorian+Solas bromance moment for @dadrunkwriting 👉😉👉

TW: Blood, painful wounds, sutures, first aid.

~~~

She was relieved to see she was the first to wake up. Although they'd stopped arguing after Solas had screamed at her, she had a feeling it was more a pause than actually considering the matter closed. Though the cot proved an added obstacle, she managed to extricate herself from it and his limbs without rousing him. Despite the screaming pain throughout every inch of her body, it had been worth avoiding picking up the argument first thing in the morning. Her Anchor arm felt so weak as to be almost useless, and she realized she wore the tattered remnants of her clothes from the previous night, stinking of stale sweat and dried blood. Wrinkling her nose, she pulled her shirt off with a barely swallowed yelp; remembering the claw marks on her stomach only after she tore the ripped shirt from where it had dried to the gashes. Her left arm throbbed, threatening immobility should she attempt to raise it again. After a few moments to catch her breath, she loosed the laces of her breeches. Once more, she forgot the burn on her hip until she was peeling the leather away from the angry red wound, unable to help but cry out as the material took several layers of skin with it.

"Come here," She'd woken him, and he moved to sit on the edge of the cot.

She shuffled over, wincing, ruined pants still clinging to her upper thighs. He grasped her kindly, hands firm but soft as they framed her waist and situated her before him. He leaned in closely, she could feel his breath across her hip bone as he examined the scratches left by the Shade. When he hummed thoughtfully, she could swear ushe felt it reverberate through her. Breath came a little faster, pulse picked up slightly, skin flushing warm across her chest and face, standing there half naked under his scrutiny. After a second, he turned her slightly to look at the burn: his warm breath scalding against the raw flesh. Lips pursed as he pulled a face, sighing deeply before waving his hand over one wound and then the others. Releasing her, he rested his elbows on his knees, breathing slow and controlled as he squeezed his eyes shut. He hadn't been able to heal either one completely, and they would certainly scar, but at least the lacerations had closed and the burn was a smaller, healther scab.

"Thank you," Muttering quietly, still wary of a fight.

"I would have done more, but I am attempting to conserve my mana, should it be direly necessary later," Still hunched over, eyes shut, "Dorian and I spent the evening helping to heal the Chargers. No doubt he is exhausted as I."

"I'm sure Bull's people greatly appreciate it," Having turned away to quickly don fresh clothes, "I certainly do."

When she faced him again, he was rubbing his face, and she saw his arm was sloppily bandaged. Impulsively, she moved to grab his wrist for a better look, but he snatched out of her grasp with a startled look. His eyes are particularly stormy today, thinking distractedly.

"You didn't bother to heal your own injuries first?"

"My skills were needed elsewhere," Slightly defensive and a touch accusatory, "I was already weaker than usual."

"Okay, but you should at least let me look at it," Reaching again but slow and deliberate, "I know shit-all about healing magic, but you know shit-all about first aid. Let me see."

Scowling, he reluctantly offered his arm. She unwound the bandage carefully, glad to see it hadn't been dried to the injury as her clothes had been. Running the length of his forearm was a long, deep gash. He had packed it with gauze, but she could see clearly it required stitches if there was any hope of keeping it from infection. She straightened up with a sigh, hands on her hips, anticipating his doubtless objection to her magically-lacking treatment.

"I'm gonna need to stitch that up—" Holding a hand up to cut off his refusal," At least until you feel better enough to heal it yourself."

He didn't attempt to speak again, but looked at her with dubious ire. She shrugged, gesturing for him to follow her outside.

"I'm going to need to see it in the light, if you don't want me to butcher it."

After a minute taken, she was sure, to bitch quietly to himself, he emerged from the tent after her. He turned immediately to Dorian, who looked immensely hungover sitting on the nearest side of the fire, but the Magister was already waving his hand in a weak dismissal.

"Sorry, Solas. As I've already told Halie, I'm too weak myself to tend to your arm," One hand remaining a makeshift visor over his squinting eyes, he pointed to his bag with the other.

"The distilled spirits are in that bottle in the side pocket of my bag, Love."

Halesta grabbed the bottle and then a few clean rags and other things from amongst their own supplies before sitting down, indicating Solas sit beside her.

"What are the spirits for?"

Eyeing her with confusion, but she merely grinned, not allowing him a chance to pull away before pouring half the bottle over the gaping wound. He hissed and spat curses in Elvhen, jerking his arm away again. She smiled to herself and took a small pull from the bottle before setting it aside.

"You might have simply warned me!" Pouting like a child.

"Where's the fun in that? Now, c'mon, lemme see it."

He continued his low muttering in Elvhen, so soft and quickly she was only able to catch the occasional word. Hearing her People's tongue spoken so naturally, regardless of his agitation, was strangely calming. Even his largely nonsensical string of curses had a sort of musical quality. Bending one of her smallest needles into a hook, she sterilzed it along with a pair of tweezers in a small flame she'd easily summoned. Deftly threading the needle, and with one last splash of spirits over the length of colored floss (sage green, of course), she turned her gaze back to him.

"This isn't going to be painless...."

"What in life is?" Sarcastically quipped, "I have had worse, I am certain. Go on."

A strange compulsion came over her. She leaned up and pressed a brisk kiss to the corner of his mouth, then quickly sat to focus on her work before it could be acknowledged. She studied the laceration again; it was fairly deep, though there wasn't too much damage to the actual muscle, which was good. There were a few different sutures she had learned from Mamae. Judging by the width of the wound, the "U"-shaped sack stitch would probably be best. She moved to start, but hesitated...it'd been years since she'd done this. A nervous reflex, she glanced up to see Solas watching her with a small—albeit, slightly wistful—smile, slow blink and nod of confidence. Rolling her eyes at his reassurance, and her apparent need for it, she tucked in. Deliberate, fluid motions, like her mother had taught her back when she thought she'd be without magic. Back when it seemed there was no in studying under her mother as a healer, as Aura had. So Halesta and Laleal had stuck with basic field first-aid; learning to set bones, suture, and a cursory study of medicinal benefits of some common plants. Laleal had never been squeamish about sutures, but Halie’s were always neater. The notion that that she had once been squeamish made her laugh aloud.

“What is amusing?” Her glance flickered up briefly to see her patient arching a brow wryly.

She shook her head, smiling as she continued her mending, “Nothing, really. Just a funny old memory.”

“Pray, tell.”

“Oh, yes!” Dorian turned toward them, Bull appearing at his side, “Story time.”

“Ehh, I don’t know,” Ducking her head with a chuckle, “Even if you did believe me, you’d laugh at me.

“C’monnn, Boss,” Bull leaned in with a drowsy grin, “Spill the beans.”

Sighing dramatically, the heat rushing to her face even as she maintained a steady pace with the stitches. She let them wait for a moment as she knotted and cut another suture.

“Mamae was a healer, and people would come from the nearby villages whenever word spread that our Clan was in the area. Even the worst of the humans were careful to watch their tongue, in case they should need Mamae’s help, which they had the courtesy to assume they’d be refused if she heard them calling us ‘Knife-Ears’.... Though, honestly, she’d have helped them anyway. Wellll, so,“ Trying to focus more on her hands than the story, that old embarrassment creeping up in her throat, “I, uh, was actually very squeamish about this sort of thing as a child. Blood and such, I mean.”

Dorian, Bull, and the more familiar Chargers roared with laughter. Even Solas wasn’t attempting to restrain his chuckling, making it difficult for her to see what she was doing.

“You? Squeamish?” Varric had joined them at some point, his voice emerging from somewhere behind her, “Our Little Bit? I don’t believe it.”

Gently stabbing Solas with the needle so he’d sit still, “I know, I know. The irony, right?”

They teased and laughed for awhile; and maybe it was the time that’d passed or how much she’d changed, but it didn’t seem as embarrassing as it once had. She dabbed at the blood that had started from his wound again, her mind drifting slightly from everything but the repetition of her movements. The conversation around her drifted too, though it sounded distant and indistinct to her at first.

“—You and the Chief were actually quieter than those two,” Krem’s comments to Dorian snapping her out of her reverie, “Between the four of you, I’m surprised Maryden and I got any sleep at all!”

“Yeah, he really laid you out last night, huh, Boss?” A teasing undercurrent to Bull’s tone as he set up the punchline for her.

“And not even in the fun way,” Mock disappointment and a sly sidelong glance to her friends.

They were surrounded by laughter, but the easy kind. The kind that indicated that the subject had been dropped. Solas pouted quietly for a moment; she didn’t dare look up at him and risk his glaring daggers at her.

“Dorian,” His voice low and smooth overhead, nearly distracting her from looping a knot, “May I see that bottle? Is this what you were drinking last night?”

“The Massaad?” Passing the bottle to his free hand, “I didn’t take you for a Sommelier, Solas.”

“Hm,” Amused hum as he examined the bottle in his hand, “I am not. I, however, do need a drink if I am to deal with this heckling all day.”

She looked up in surprise to see his head tossed back and bottle bottom-up, finishing it off with a mere three swallows. Bull barked a laugh while Krem looked nervously at Dorian’s appalled expression.

“That was an extremely rare vintage!!”

“Ir abelas, Falon,” Smiling apologetically, “But, I do have...countless resources at my disposal. I swear to procure you another to replace it.”

Dorian seem to consider this, appearing mollified.

“Wait,” The Magister’s tone surprisingly lighthearted, “Before or after you destroy the world?”

Solas actually laughed along with Dorian, while Halie looked between the two men, needle frozen in the air and her mouth slightly agape.

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odinsonsobsessed · 6 years

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Talk Loki To Me • Part Fourteen

Businessman by day, someone else entirely by night… An AU where Tom Hiddleston isn’t a famous film actor. He’s just a normal guy, your roommate of two years. The two of you are really close and you think you know everything about him, until you discover his secret… He’s a popular erotic audio star, taking on the persona of Loki, a god hellbent on making you cum. And when you accidentally discover this secret of his, everything begins to change.

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston/Reader || Word Count: 1.3k || Rated M (18+)

A/N: Wow, you guys! We've made it to the end of the series! I want to thank all of you for your lovely comments and likes and reblogs throughout each update!

Series Masterlist

It was time.

Your train had arrived and it was time to board.

You stared at it for a while, until they called for it again. Something was holding you back. Something was locking your legs and keeping you from standing. It was ridiculous, you had to go!

You swallowed down your reluctance and stood up, gathering your things. Taking a deep breath, you began to walk toward the platform.

Your heart clenched tighter and tighter the closer you got to the train, to the point where it became hard for you to breathe. You stopped, loosening your hold on the suitcase and drew your hand up to clutch at your chest as tears blurred your vision.

No. Everything is wrong.

Your mind, your heart and your soul were screaming at you, begging you not to go. But why?

Tom's face entered your mind and when realization hit you like a mack truck barreling down the road, you drew in a sharp breath and nearly dropped your bag.

You were in love with Tom Hiddleston.

You were in love with your best friend, your roommate. The man who had stuck by you for three years, you were in love with him. That's what was holding you back. You were suddenly overwhelmed by the urge to tell him. You had to tell him now.

Last call for London to Manchester.

You bit your lip, looking between the train and the exit. If you left now, you would miss that train and you weren't sure if there would even be another one until tomorrow. But, if you left now, would you have the courage to tell him later? Would you have the chance?

Hastily grabbing hold of your suitcase, you whipped around to leave. You knew you still had to go, but you couldn't leave without telling him that you loved him first. You couldn't let this be how you left things. And if he didn't feel the same way, then at least you tried.

Struggling to run with it, you tugged as hard as you could and almost fell a few times, but finally made it to the exit. You ran out to flag down a taxi, getting absolutely soaked in the process, as the rain came down harder than it did when you first arrived. You scrambled into the backseat, flinging your suitcase onto the seat next to you.

“Hey! Be careful with that!” The taxi driver barked.

You quickly gave him the address and told him to hurry. When he started to complain, you bribed him with more money. With a grumble, he accepted your bribe and took off.

God, it seemed like it took forever to get back to the flat. There were a couple of times when you nearly flung the door open at a red light to run the rest of the way. You argued with the driver, urging him to drive faster, but he was firm with refusing to go any quicker.

When the taxi finally arrived in front of the flat, you grabbed your things and rushed out of the car, tugging your suitcase with you. After you raced up the steps, you pounded on the door impatiently, “Tom!” You called out.

“Tom!” You shouted again when he didn't answer. Had he left the flat already? Why wasn't he answering the door?

When the finally door opened, Tom looked at you in confusion, your name passing through his lips. “What are you…?”

“I couldn't do it…” You gazed at him, your heart pounding a mile a minute. You were panting, exhausted from your hurried movements and nervous to tell him, fearful that he didn't feel the same. But if you didn't tell him, you would never know and the secret would eat you alive if you kept it inside. It was now or never. “I couldn't go without telling you that I--”

“I couldn't go without telling you that I love you!” His eyes widened and you wanted desperately to know what he was thinking. “Look, I know this was supposed to be a no strings attached, no emotion, no commitment arrangement, but I fucked up.” You looked down, nervously fidgeting with the strap of your bag while you wished he would say something.

“I've been feeling really strange lately and I couldn't figure out what it was until I was about to leave… I know that I shouldn't, but…” You looked back up, gazing into his eyes, “I love you, Tom.”

Tom seemingly searched your eyes, completely silent before he surged forward, grabbing your face between his hands and kissing you hard. He tilted his head, deepening the kiss as you wrapped your arms around his neck. Neither of you cared about the rain beating down on you both as you kissed. Nothing else mattered in that moment but each other.

When Tom pulled away, he was panting as he brushed soaked strands of hair that were plastered on your face. “I love you, too.” He stroked your wet cheek with his thumb. “It was only supposed to be a temporary thing, something fun and carefree. But somewhere along the way, things changed and I was afraid to tell you in case you didn't feel the same. God, I wish I had told you sooner.” He pressed his lips to yours again for a short but sweet kiss.

When he pulled back, your face broke out into a grin as he smiled at you and the two of you laughed.

“Come inside, we're getting soaked.” He grabbed your suitcase and the two of you went inside of the flat.

As soon as the door closed, you turned around and kissed him again, pushing him against it. He kissed you back, snaking his arms around you to hold you against him. You sighed in contentment, leaning into him as the two of you kissed.

Yes, this was how it was supposed to be.

~~~~~~~~

Three Months Later…

Things were great. Your new position was amazing and the branch opening was quite successful. You absolutely loved your flat and where you were living. The people were nice and you made friends fairly quickly. The only thing that was missing was Tom.

The two hour train rides to and from Manchester and London were getting harder and harder to do. Your schedule was busy as ever, now that you were running a branch, and a new one at that.

You took turns with Tom each weekend with who travels. Sometimes it was two or three weeks until you saw each other again. You missed each other greatly when you were apart, you talked nearly every night and phone sex had become a regular thing and Tom was wonderful at it, of course.

But, as fun as it was and as nice as it was to visit on the weekends, it wasn't enough. You wanted so badly to live with him again. To see him every day and cuddle with him every night. You got weepy with him on the phone sometimes when you were feeling particularly stressed or overwhelmed with missing him.

Until one day, everything changed.

It was a Saturday afternoon and you were lounging on the couch, watching a movie when you heard a knock on the door. You thought it was strange, seeing as you didn't know very many people in the area yet and who knew your address. You hadn't invited anyone over and Tom wasn't able to come out to visit that weekend, due to him having other plans.

But when you opened the door, much to your surprise, Tom was standing there, causing your eyes to widen, “Tom!” Your heart squeezed in excitement and love, as you realized Tom had come to surprise you! Your gaze traveled to a few large bags next to him and your brows furrowed in confusion. That was an awful lot of stuff for staying overnight… You then looked back up to his face, which held a wide grin,

“Have room for an audio porn star?”

@fandom-and-feminism @fadingcoast @igotloki @mrshiddleston-uk @nikkalia @manager-of-mischief @spidey-bites @kcd15 @dangertoozmanykids101 @xxloki81xx @starletah @msunnsstuff @redfoxwritesstuff @just-the-hiddles @thatweirdwalangpake @loki-and-hiddles @kitsuneharo12 @thathedonistgirl @littlefrogstuff @maximeshepard-beavakarian @iris-suoh @devilbat @furstinnajoelle @exbandragirl @sabine-leo @fire-in-her-veinz @midnight-queen-1 @lady-loki-ren @sinder3llaizzy @melsmontanabear @blatantly-lokean @alexakeyloveloki @screw-real-life-i-pick-fandoms @wholelottatiffy @writingmi @januarycalendargirl @runningawaywithloki @officiallyunofficialperson @drakesfiance @yzssie @this-fine-ass-queen @lokixme @crystalxxmeth @officiallyunofficialperson @eyelismloki @joyofbebbanburg @devikafernando @winterisakiller @lokislilslut @wishrains

#talk loki to me #tom hiddleston/reader #tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston

170 notes · View notes

areiton · 6 years

Note

(1)Cause you're (rightfully) grumpy about people's purity wank I've got a question that might distract you and which I desperately hope you have an answer to: I mostly read steter fic so far. Now i wanted to get into sterek but ... I seem to be too picky?? I'd like to read sth not totally au (Erica and Boyd being alive is fine for example), with not too much ooc-ness, with Peter NOT being the villain and with Derek's abusive past 'relationships' and Stiles self-destructiveness actually adressed

(2) and I can’t seem to find sth that really … catches me. There are so many amazing steter fics out there (yes, I very definetely talking about your fics too) and I’m sure there are equally amazing sterek fics, but …. yeah. I’m obviously not able to find them. So - help??? Please??

~*~

Oh, friend. You are my favorite. This is the kind of ask Iadooooore. Ok, you ready? Cuz this list is LOOOOONG. (big thanks to@bloody-bee-tee for helping me find fics for this list.) Not everything fitsall your criteria, but all of them fit some.

**Are especially good for dealing with Derek and/or Stiles healing.

Patterns of Intention by drunktuesdays:

Derek looked likethe stuff of his deepest fantasies. His shirt was rumpled where Stiles had hishands in it, and he was breathing hard as well, chest heaving. His eyes—hiseyes were glazed over and he looked stunned, like he’d been—like Stiles had—

“No,” Stiles said,blood draining from his face. The word was croaky and felt like it had to bewrenched out of his chest. “God, no.”

Paper Skin and Glass Bones byhushlittlewolf:

Derek can’t takethis. He can’t take this joking, concerned boy that has the evidence of Derek’sshortcomings carved into his skin.

The one where Dereknever paid attention to how much Stiles got hurt…until he sees Stilesshirtless and notices all the scars.

**Carry You Home byCastielific:

“Derek letshimself fall on his back, breath short, heart beating fast. He can feel theWolf in him, purring in satisfaction and contentment. Asking for more. It wantshim to turn and touch, to never stop touching. Instead, Derek squeezes hishands into fists and closes his eyes, trying to push it back, this need, thisinstinct screaming for his mate. For Stiles.”

Title inspired bythis Firefly quote: “When you can’t run anymore, you crawl, and when you can’tcrawl, when you can’t do that, you find someone to carry you”

Trust Fall byStoney:

Stiles is fairlycertain that a case could be made for every bad thing in his life coming backto Peter Hale. This time it’s pissing off a powerful witch, who retaliated byswapping Stiles and Derek a la Freaky Friday, because sure. Thatmakes sense. Um, there are GPAs on the line, not to mention the whole thingwhere his dad wants to shoot Derek on sight. Except who he sees as Derek isactually Stiles, and Stiles did not sign up for filicide.

Great. Wait…does this mean he’s the Alpha until they figurethis out? Holy. Shit.****

Derek had stood in front of the bathroom mirror for a fewminutes trying to control the panic as he saw himself as Stiles. As the loudmouthed human friend of the pack. He was going to kill Peter. He was going tokill the witch, then he was going to kill Peter. Maybe even resurrect him againjust to kill him all over.

They were going to have to play this cool. They would have tostay calm and focused. Which is of course why the universe threw him into thissituation with someone who physically couldn’t be calm and focused.

Of course.

Stilinski’s Home for WaywardWolves by owlpostagain:

“At least yourpuppies knock first,” Stiles snorts. “Here I thought their alpha raised them tobe well-mannered.”   

“There’s a sign,” Derek responds stiffly.   

Stiles, whose curiosity outweighs even his hardest of grudges,abandons his chilly façade of nonchalance in a heartbeat. He jumps right up andall but pushes Derek out of the way in his effort to get to the window, andsure enough when he leans outside there’s a laminated strip of cardstock ducttaped to the vinyl siding:   

DON’T FORGET TO KNOCK Stiles gets cranky when we scare him

—

Or, in which StilesStilinski moves to Beacon Hills for his junior year of high school andaccidentally adopts a pack of teenage werewolves.

How Derek Met His Smallest Fan by purleduvet:

Derek is standing inthe fruits and vegetables aisle, trying to decide between two very nice lookingwatermelons, when someone small crashes into his legs.

Derek comes back toBeacon Hills after years of being gone and meets Stiles and his kid at thesupermarket.

Make it Feel Like Home by redeyedwrath:

Maybe it would’vebeen different if things had never happened. Maybe it would’ve been different ifhe hadn’t persuaded Scott to go search in the woods. Maybe it would’ve beendifferent if he hadn’t been so stubborn. Maybe it would’ve been different if heand Scott had never met.

Maybe it would’ve been different, would’ve beenbetter, if he hadn’t been born in the first place.

He tightens his fingers on the steering wheel untilthey turn an ugly, bloodless color. The only good thing, in his opinion, that’dcome out of all of this, had been meeting Derek. Derek, who’d been an assholebut turned out to be the most loyal, kindest person Stiles knows.

He resists the urge to drive off the road and screaminto his palms. Beause Derek had left, and now he’s alone.

Or, an AU where Stiles runs away to find himself but finds Derekinstead.

Misfire bymothlights, unpossible: (this one has less than fantastic Peter, buthe isn’t actively bad, and it’s amazing)

“The debt must berepaid,” she says, and it has the weight of a vow. Thewords resonate through him, ringing through his ribcage and the bones of hisjaw, and Stiles loses his breath and maybe his grip on reality because shedraws herself upright and where there had once stood a supermodel-level MILFnow there is Galadriel’s much hotter older sister, a Presence of unmistakablepower in their ordinary, smells-vaguely-of-Thai-takeout hallway.

“Oh shit,” Stilessays.

And You Say You’re Alone by taelynhawker:

Between the kanima, the Argents, and Peter’suntimely return from the dead, everything has fallen apart. Stiles and Derektry to put their lives back together once the crisis has passed. Stiles dealswith the aftermath of being tortured, and the distance growing between he andScott. Derek attempts to become a stronger alpha and keep his pack safe, andthat includes Stiles.

The Art of Dying Well by kinneas:

Yousaid we’re friends.“

"Whoa, way to holdwhat a guy says in the heat of the moment against him,” Stiles repliesautomatically, but… that’s not what he wants to say, not at all, not to thequiet contemplation that is Derek Hale on his living room sofa. So he adds,“I guess, yeah.”

Derek doesn’t speak fora long moment. “Then it’s inevitable.”

“Wow,”Stiles whistles, “you are the biggest downer.”

Gracious in Defeatby yodasyoyo:

Stiles needs to getaway from Beacon Hills after the end of his senior year. Derek offers to lethim stay with him in São Paulo, and they finally act on the tension that hasalways simmered between them.

The thing is, whenit’s time to go home- Stiles doesn’t want to leave.

Crash Landers by gyzym:

In which Stiles learns to Stalk That Stalk.(Or, how to accidentally woo your unfriendly neighborhood alpha in roughly fivehundred handwritten steps.)

**Not Quite Lost (Not QuiteFound) by alocalband:

A year after thenogitsune is defeated, Derek is living a quiet life in the mountains above asmall town in Colorado.

Then Stiles showsup.

The Darkness Inside by isthatbloodonhisshirt:

The sheriff watchedhim for a moment, then he sighed and turned slightly. He reached out to open acabinet door beside him, and pulled out a shelf. It was on a track, so itrolled out of the cabinet fairly easily, and held a small CCTV. Derek frownedand inched his chair to the side a little bit so he could get a better angle.

He was looking at a teenager, or someone at least young enoughto be the same age as Scott. He was sitting on a bed in what looked to be alarger room, the area he was in surrounded by four glass walls, with his legscrossed and head tilted.

He was also staring directly into the camera, as if he knewsomeone was watching. A creepy smile slowly slid onto the teen’s face, and heheld up one hand, wiggling his fingers in a slow, eery wave.

Derek felt his mouth run dry. He didn’t know who this kid was,but he didn’t like him.

“Who is that?” he asked quietly.

“That,” said thesheriff, “is my son.”

***Bravery is a Loaded Gun byLiviKate:

“No, I’m notasexual, Stiles,” Derek said shortly.

The teen’s heart sank in his chest, his palms going clammy andhis neck prickling with the familiar feeling of rejection.

“So then it’s,” Stiles swallowed, throat clogging, unable togive voice to the facts he would much rather ignore. The silence grew betweenthem, growing tense the longer it was left. For the first time in years, Stilescouldn’t speak. The weight of inadequacy held down his typical stream ofuseless banter. What does one say in this sort of situation? ‘I’m sorry youdon’t find me attractive?’

In which the boys speak in half sentences and have two totallydifferent conversations. What they can agree on, eventually, is that they loveeach other. And that Derek should jerk off more.

Warm shadows bystilinskisparkles:

“Fine,” Stiles spitsback, “We’ll die together, it’ll be dandy.”

“I’m looking forward to it,” Derek snaps, “I’ll get some peaceand quiet for once.”

Stiles grinssuddenly, blindingly. There’s blood on his teeth, and his eyes are dark anddesperate as he looks up at Derek, but he’s never looked more stupidly,infuriatingly beautiful.

Give Me Back My Bones (maybe thenwe’ll talk) by kariye:

Derek meets Stiles on a Wednesday. He comes infor his usual cup of coffee and somehow walks out with hot chocolate, cinnamonon the top, and no idea what just happened there.

Romancing the Sourwolf. (OrStiles Stilinski’s Foolproof Guide to Getting Your Man) by lucyinthesoupwithcrutons:

The 15 year plan for Lydia was clearly thewrong way to go; Stiles won’t be making the same mistake with Derek. He decidesto do his homework this time.

Throw Me to the Wolves by skoosiepants:

He feels thephysical embodiment of devastated, his already too strung-out mindstruggling to wall up all the hurt, the rejection—he takes a deep shudderingbreath and looks down at the shredded skin on his arms, at the sluggish waythey’re weakly healing.

There is nothing, nothing he wants more than tohave Derek sweep in and make everything all better. He should have known,though, that something like that would never happen to him.

OR -

Stiles accidentallygets bitten, and everything goes to hell.

***SharingFood by aussiebee:

“Sharing foodwith another human being is an intimate act that should not be indulged inlightly.” ― M.F.K. Fisher

Derek is pretty muchabsorbed into the Stilinski family, one meal at a time.

Derek Hale’s No-Good, Very BadDay by Mackem:

Derek hides from his day.

***Start Small, Like Oak Treesby SmallBirds:

The months following Allison’s death havepassed Stiles by in a haze of monotony. He sleepwalks through days that seem tolose their color, an unwilling passenger in a body he no longer trusts.Eventually, he thinks, he’ll just fade away. He isn’t sure anyone would notice.Then, during a spur of the moment grocery run, he stumbles upon Derek Haleattempting to console a lost child, and for the first time in recent memory theworld doesn’t seem so awful.He’s not sure what he’d been expecting when he eventuallyconvinces Derek to move into the Stilinski’s spare bedroom, but a newfoundpassion for weeding and topsoil certainly isn’t it.

A Quiet Night (Not in theCards) by Delightful_I_Am:

“Derek fucking Hale!”

The shout rang through the bar and for a long moment nobodymoved. It was like something out of a movie. Everything just stopped; the musiccut off; one of the servers had frozen mid-pour. Grady would have laughed if heweren’t holding his breath. The kid straightened his shirt, a glimpse ofstomach showing the curling edges of a tattoo on his hip, and strode towardwhere Hale was sitting in the dark corner. As one, every supe in the placeturned to see Hale’s reaction; the last person to try to confront Hale in herehad left with a broken hand and a whispered threat that the next time Halewould rip their throat out. With his teeth.Unsurprisingly, Hale’s face was set in its usual glower, although it seemed abit softer around the eyes. It took Grady a second to realise Hale knew the kid.

The blood blooms clean in you,ruby by m_leigh:

“You don’tremember, anymore, where exactly you were when you found out that she was dead.You remember almost everything else about her dying, though.”

Stiles Stilinski hasalways been the person who will do what other people don’t want to. It’s hard,though, when your friends keep trying to protect you. Post-S2.

***Tide pullsfrom the moon by paintedrecs:

When Derek leftBeacon Hills, finally ripping the tether free and remembering how to breathe,how to live again, it was Stiles who came after him. Stiles, who showed up athis door with blazing eyes, looking like he wanted to punch him in the face,but wrapping his arms around him instead, making him grunt in surprise at theraw strength of his embrace.

“You asshole,”Stiles said, slapping him heartily on the back as he extricated himself, hisvoice rough under his bright smile. “You couldn’t have made yourself harder tofind, could you?”

Homing Mechanisms by SmallBirds:

Magnetoreception:The sense which allows an organism to detect a magnetic field to perceivedirection, altitude or location. How birds find their way home.

–

Stiles returns toBeacon Hills after four years at Stanford, only to find out that Derek hasmoved back into town. He brings him a housewarming gift. Derek makes food.Things escalate from there.

Parallax by uraneia:

Parallax: noun. Theeffect whereby the position or direction of an object appears to differ whenviewed from different positions, e.g., through the viewfinder and the lens of acamera.

With the pack (and Stiles) starting college, Derek is bored. Heneeds a hobby–or a job. Which is how he comes to model for Alpha Studios.

He just neverthought Stiles would end up working there too.

Occam’s Razorby MissAnnThropic:

When Stiles goes to sleep, he’s ajunior in high school. He wakes up in a world where he’s twenty-four andmarried to Derek Hale. Stiles just can’t seem to catch a break.

Readalso: Stepping Off the Razor’sEdge which is a lot of healing for both our boys and beautiful.

The Truth Is by BulletBlaze:

“Well, you should get going then-”“You could come around some time-”A pause.“Wait, what?”A blush bloomed across Derek’s cheeks, barely visible overthe top of his beard. He shrugged again.“If you wanted to. You could stop by while I’m fixing it up.Help me with some things. If you wanted to.”“You already said that,” Stiles, the idiot, mumbled indisbelief.Derek’s blush grew a shade darker.

There’s a martyr in my bedtonight but it’s alright by crossroadwrite:

It’s a beautiful afternoon, and Derek is standing at a dusty gasstation, staring helplessly at the destroyed remains of the last thing hissister left him.

(OR: In which Derekexpects nothing from life, but with a little help from the Stilinskis getseverything.)

#ask arei #arei answers #vive-lanuit #arei reads too much #sterek fic recs

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