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erule · 3 years

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The frat party | t.h.

Title: The frat party

Pairing: Frat boy!Tom Holland x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1859

Warnings: OC Elizabeth (Lizzie), fake dating/relationship trope, language, fluff

Summary: Tom and the reader met at a frat party, but a year later they broke up because of some reason. Now, rumor has it that the reader is dating one of Tom’s friends and he gets jealous.

A/N: Hello hello, enjoy the new chapter! Sorry for the waiting, guys, but I hope that I made it up to you. Just let me know your thoughts about this chapter!

If you wanna be tagged in my Tom Holland fics, just let me know in my ask box! You can also find me on AO3 and Wattpad. Feedback is always appreciated by a writer!

Taglist: @webmeupspiderdaddy

Read chapter 1 here!

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Story under the cut!

Chapter 2

Rumor has it

“So, guys, rumor has it that…”

“Stop!” Tom exclaimed, interrupting Harrison. “Everytime you say that sentence, something hurts me and I really wanna miss that opportunity today. I’m already angry at myself because of what happened with Oliver,” he said, lighting a cigarette while sitting on the edge of his bed.

“Smoking makes you even more annoying than usual, Tom,” Harrison said. Tom sighed.

“Oliver makes me like that. He’s still flirting with Y/N, even if he should know by now that she’s mine. I mean, she will be mine again. My girl,” he said, with a soft smile on his face. “Ouch”.

“Still hurts?”

“Yeah, a bit,” Tom answered, brushing his bottom lip where Oliver hurt him.

Jacob suddenly opened the door, a big smile on his face. Tom and Harrison looked at him with suspicion.

“What happened, Jacob?” Harrison asked.

“So, rumor has it that…”

“Oh, fuck me,” Tom sighed, laying his back on the bed. Harrison chuckled.

“I was saying: rumor has it, that there will be a huge frat party at the end of the year to celebrate the older students like us, that will graduate soon and Lizzie asked me to come with her,” he said, happily.

“Lizzie as in Elizabeth? Y/N’s friend?” Tom asked and Jacob nodded.

“She looked a lot like Y/N last year, I thought they were twins. Now she has changed her hair color, at least,” Harrison said.

“The most important things is that she likes me!” Jacob exclaimed. “Be happy for me just once, guys. I deserve it”.

“You’re right Jacob, you do,” Tom said, giving him a pat on his back.

Somebody knocked at the door. Harrison went to open it and found someone who Tom would have been very glad to see. In fact, he jumped from the bed instantly, throwing the unlit cigarette in the trash.

“Hey darling, what are you doing here?”

You sighed, looking at him.

“I have an unseemly proposal for you and you can’t say no”.

“A fake relationship?”

After Tom had sent his friends away, you sat down on his bed in front of him to discuss about the details.

“Look, I didn’t want to do this, but Oliver’s still flirting with me and I have to cut this. He would leave me alone only if he’d see that we’re back together, I’m sure of it. Also, you literally proposed this to me last time, so… Wow, that’s really unpleasant. It must hurt,” you said suddenly, staring at his lip. You moved a hand to reach the wound, but then you stopped. You gazed at him. “Can I?”

Tom nodded. So you brushed it with your fingertip, thinking about how much it costed him to protect you even after your break up. How much it hurt. You swallowed, melancholy threatening to eat you alive. He had closed his eyes for a second. A very long second. Like you at the party. Maybe standing this close to him wasn’t a good idea.

“Y/N…”

“So, what do you think?” You asked, withdrawing your arm.

Tom shrugged.

“I agree,” he said.

“Just like that? You don’t want something in return?”

“As you said, I suggested it in the first place, so I totally agree with it,” he said. Then, he got dangerously close to you, so close that you thought he wanted to kiss you on the lips – and, in fact, he smirked –, but he didn’t. He left you a light kiss on your cheek instead, before whispering these words in your ear: “I’m gonna get you back, Y/N. One way or another,”

You ran away from there like a wolf was chasing you to eat you.

***

You were looking at Zendaya, hands clasped in prayer, begging her to help you. You and Tom had decided to go out as in a date in order to convince Oliver that the two of you were, in fact, back together. Lizzie was already somewhere with Jacob, so you had just Zendaya left to pick the outfit for the evening. She didn’t like that kind of stuff, mostly because because didn’t agree to your plan, but you were too desperate to let it go. She would have helped you at the end. Well, that was your hope anyway.

“Please, Z,” you basically begged her.

She rolled her eyes, arms crossed, but then she nodded. You tried to give her a kiss, but she moved away.

“You know what? This will be a dumb outfit for a dumb plan,” she said, while opening your closet.

“Z, I just…”

“You know why? Because the second, the second, Tom will try to kiss you, you’ll fall for it. Again”.

“I thought that he was your friend too,” you said, showing her a dress, but she shaked her head.

“He is, but I don’t know if he’s the right pick for you. I don’t condone what you did to him,” she said and you gulped, “but he’s not exactly an angel either. He ruined a lot of relationships even before he met you. That’s who he is,” she continued.

You sat on the edge of the bed, while she was looking for something that you could wear.

“Maybe he’s not like that anymore. People grow up, Z,” you said.

“Oh, yeah? Have you?” She asked you, turning around. You swallowed. “That’s what I thought. Don’t come to me when he’ll screw things up again. Or when you will” she stated, then she showed you the outfit. You looked at it with a sparkle in your eyes. “We have found it”.

You showered, wore the outfit and prepared in less than an hour. You were trying to wear your shoes, when Zendaya opened the door to Tom. He was wearing a white T-shirt with a red flannel on it and some ripped jeans. You waved at him, while grabbing your bag. You told Zendaya not to wait for you and then you smiled at Tom, ready to go.

“Are you still smoking?”

“Sometimes,” he answered. “Where’s Oliver tonight?”

“He posted on Instagram an hour ago, so I assume that he’s still with Jacob and Lizzie somewhere in the campus,” you said, looking at your phone.

“Well, so we have some time,” he said with a smirk. He took your hand and you felt shivers running down your spine.

“What are you doing, Tom?”

“Come on darling, if we have to pretend, then we have to make it believable. What’s worse than seeing the girl you like having fun with someone else?” He asked and you noticed a lightning passing through his eyes.

Then, without even realizing it, you found yourself running with Tom all over the campus. That alone made you laugh, because you felt like a little girl. If you had to describe Tom in one word, you would have said he was light. Not because it was always sunny, but because of the way it managed to get you out of the darkness you found yourself in sometimes. He pulled you out of the darkness and made you feel alive, everytime. He was the only one who could do it. Sometimes you wondered why you gave up on him, in fact. Because you had given up on the light, you, who often felt like a full moon in a dark and gloomy sky. He brought you in a part of the campus that seemed a minigolf. Maybe he and his friends had created it, since Tom loved playing golf very much. He gave you a golf club, urging you to try your hand at it.

“I’m not a good player, Tom,” you said, shaking your head.

“I’m still chasing you, right? So I wouldn’t say so,” he replied, leaving you speechless. “I was joking. Come on, let me show you,” he said.

It seemed so cliché, letting him touch you, teaching you to play, celebrate with him every victory of yours… You could have had it, a year ago. That. Tom. All yours. But you gave up on everything. It was your biggest mistake.

“Tom, it’s time. I think that we should go back. Oliver and the others could be coming to their rooms right now,” you said. Tom seemed a bit sad at your words, but only for a moment. It was hard to see an emotion flash on his face.

He nodded.

“Whatever you want, darling,” he said.

You wanted to say something else, but you closed your mouth before you could actually do it. The two of you came back and fortunately, you found Oliver with Lizzie and Jacob still hanging out. You caught Jacob attention and waved him, while Tom was smooth to hold your hand. You turned around in order to tell him something, but he was quick. One second later, her was kissing you and there was something in your stomach, like a knot, that slowly loosened its grip. You felt a weird sensation, a sort of relief. You could feel Oliver’s eyes trying to burn Tom’s skin, Jacob saying Let’s go and your blood boiling in your veins like lava.

When Tom broke the kiss, he ran his thumb over your lips, looking at them with a sort of melancholy. Fake relationships are a beautiful dream, but waking up is from them a nightmare.

“Tom…”

“I think that he got the message,” he said, taking a step back from you. He lit a cigarette, clenching his jaw.

“This is not a joke to me, Tom. It’s not something I’m doing just for him,” you said.

“No? Then explain what all of this is to me, darling,” he replied, throwing out some smoke like it was his anger.

“Yeah,” you said, but then you bit your inner cheek.

“What’s stopping you, Y/N? What are you hiding from me?” He asked, scanning your face. “Are you ashamed of something? Maybe it’s what you did, you know, the whole cheatingthing… or maybe it’s admitting that you still have feelings for me that brings you shame”.

“No, I’m not ashamed,” you said, determined.

“Then talk to me, darling. What’s happening?”

“I can’t tell you, Tom, I’m sorry,” you said, looking around. It was like you needed some air, even if you were outside. That secret didn’t make you breath anymore.

“What? That you liked throwing all away? That he didn’t make you feel like I did? That you weren’t done playing with me? Just tell me something, Y/N, anything would be better than this fucking silence,” he said, raising his voice.

“I didn’t cheat on you!” You yelled. Tom’s eyes grew wide. Everything around you two seemed now quiet, motionless. You covered your mouth with your hands, maybe to erase what you just said. “Fuck”.

Tom stared at you for a good couple of minutes. He looked at your tired and tearful eyes, perhaps thinking whether to believe you or not, then he did something unexpected: he put out his cigarette. He walked over to you, raking your face in his hands and looked into your eyes, this time more intensely. He looked tired and incredibly older.

“Now you’re gonna tell me everything, darling”.

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blissfulparker · 3 years

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Sugar and Spice Pt.1→Dad!Mob!Tom

Parings: single!dad!tom x baker!reader

Warnings: none yet! Mafia!Au so future mention of guns, death, drinking, sex, smoking

Summary: Tom is one of the youngest Mobsters known to London, youngest and most successful he seems perfect to people, feared by people. But his deepest secret is that he’s been raising a son all by himself. No one to be with since the birth of his son until he walks into the small bakery last minute for his sons birthday and meets you.

A/n; so obviously this is more of a part one to a series(I know I always start series and then get really distracted with life) but I wanted a fresh idea and a fresh fic to start off the new year. I love mob!tom and I love dad!tom and I was hoping I could mix the two💗💗(also I have no idea how to do read more on mobile I’m so sorry😭)

Secrets. Everyone had secrets. Tom Holland, one of London’s richest, youngest, most successful mobsters, Had a son.

He had a beautiful boy named Riley, he raised him with only the help of his best friend and brothers. He was the smartest little boy he knew, charming and innocent. A little boy who didn’t know any of the dangers of the world just yet.

That was his secret. At age 20 he was rushed into life with the beautiful boy and one of the most stressful and dangerous jobs to manage. He did everything he could for the boy, it was always his boy before his work. Stressful days where he could put a bullet into anyone who walked in on him turned better when his son came home from school with stories.

It had been six years since his little secret was born and it was his best and hardest secret to keep.

And now he had forgotten his sons birthday cake. He was turning six years old today and Tom promised the best Spider-Man cake with iron man, hulk, all of the avengers in the flavor chocolate. Now he had to find a baker that could do all of that in the time span of six hours.

After endless calls, endless hunting, he found a small bakery in the smallest corner of London that was willing to make his son's wild fantasy come true on his special day.

Suit and all, rushed from work, Tom had walked into the small bakery. Ready to pick up the birthday cake and make his sons birthday the best one.

He was greeted with the smell of sugary frosting and warm baked goods. A career so diffrent from his as he was a man with blood on his hands and the people working here were the ones with the flour.

“Can I help you?” Your voice is soft and takes him by surprise. Not the voice of the older women he spoke with on the phone.

You’re covered in flour, chocolate frosting wiped on your apron and you rinse your hands in the sink. But you have a soft face, one that calms him just by looking at. As if you never saw a day of anger, of pain, of anything. You were simply a poem he wanted to read.

It takes him a minute to come back. He hadn’t gotten with anyone seriously since the birth of his son. Overwhelmed with his work and his son, he also had feared the idea of no women being good enough for his son.

Although his son longed for a mother, he could tell. He could tell the stories at bedtime weren’t as good as if it were a mother’s, every Mother’s Day was missed and he knows deep down that every nightmare would be better if he was cuddled up in a mother’s arms. Tom could give him everything except a mother.

“I’m here to pick up a cake.” He clears his throat. You notice the watch, the expensive suit and his scent, a deep wood, an expensive scent. He had money yet of all the bakeries he chose it was the nearly dying one. “It’s Uh, it’s my sons birthday and I’m here to pick up the cake. My name is Tom. I spoke on the phone earlier...with someone…” he stuttered nervously as if you might not have it ready. Laughing softly you find his order on the computer. Even your laugh was angelic.

“Sophie? The older women?” You ask and he nods.

“Yes, yes!” He didn’t know why he was nervous, awkward even. He shoved his hands in his pocket to keep calm.

“Avengers cake…” you look up at the man and he has a red tint to his cheek.

“My son, he’s turning six.” He didn’t spark you to have a dad look, you had seen fathers come in and out of this bakery. Most of the men in their 40s and stressed over possibly a my little pony cake or cookies for a last minute club meeting to make their kid smile. Most fathers had the same look though, tired and worn out in possibly old sneakers and a wrinkled shirt. This man had a different look.

“Ahh,” you search for a ring but don’t see one. A single, young dad who looks to have everything together. A book. He looked like a character from a book. “I’ll be right back with that.” You smiled before turning to the back. Leaving the man alone, in the lobby of the bakery.

“Quite the last minute cake.” You came out with the large cake done beautifully. Done with red and blue frosting and on top was all the small figurines that you had to search for. But nonetheless, it was gorgeous.

“Your wife must be lucky to have a man willing to run out and surprise their kid so last minute.” You sparked the conversation in hopes that you would see if the man is single or not.

“Oh, no, just myself.” He pulls out his card ready to swipe and you press down on your lips. Maybe he didn’t want a girlfriend, he was young but he looked to have his hands full with a six year old and a clearly good job.

“Well, then he’s lucky to have such a great father.” You tell. He tries to hide his red tinted cheeks again but you notice.

“Your boyfriend must be lucky to have someone who must always smell like cakes.” He flirted back.

For the first time in years, Tom had flirted back with a girl without the intentions of sex. He flirted back without needing a drink in his hands and to be at a bar. He flirted back not hiding that he had a son at home that could potentially turn away a girl looking for fun.He flirted back as just himself. And so far you had seemed to like that.

“No boy.” You laugh softly.

Your eyes flicker and stare into his. They are light brown, light brown laced with a sort of mystery. A light brown laced with charm, lust and a secret.

“Well then,” was all he could think of. His game was off, he’s realized that. The dangerous mobster got nervous around you.

“Well then.” You repeated.

It’s a mistake. He will be making a mistake if he falls for you. The mistake of ruining your life as he doesn’t know how far he could go protecting the ones he loves. Riley’s life was in danger every day and he hated that, he hated the women he once loved for leaving him all alone but was also given the best gift of a son.

Although the nappies and endless nights of screaming were hard, he would do anything to protect his son. And if he were to find the future mother of his son, he would do anything to protect her but her life would be just as risk as his.

Maybe it would be you making the mistake. He would be selfish to go after you.

“I hope your Riley has a happy birthday.” You say and he’s taken aback. He doesn’t know how you know it until he looks down and written in black frosting in cursive is ‘Happy birthday Riley’.

“Well, with the best decorated cake i think I have ever seen in my life, I’m sure he will not forget this birthday. I might not either.” He smiles at you one last time and you look down trying to hide the burning smile that wanted to spread across your face.

Once he leaves the building you turn and rub your hands over your face, finally letting yourself grow a smile that has been hiding the entire time.

For the first time in awhile, a man has made you smile.

“Happy birthday to you.”

Smoke from the candles filled the room. Six years, Tom had offically spent six years of his life raising his son. Being a single father as well as the youngest Mobster, Tom had his struggles.

“A girl at the bakery?” Harrison, Toms best friend, smirked as the two of them washed up dishes while the kids played in the backyard after eating their cake.

“It’s nothing Haz. I’m busy, remember?” He scrubbed too hard at the plate as he placed in into the dishwasher.

For a man who had maids most days, he wanted it to just be family and friends in the house on his sons birthday.

“Yeah. But Riley isn’t.” He commented looking over to the boy who laughed with his friends from school he had invited to celebrate the special day.

With a silent sigh and a stubborn mindset, Harrison was right. Tom was busy but Riley was a child who needed a mother.

“See? I’m right. Once again. Why don’t you go back and get your number so you can get your dick-“ his best friend started but Tom didn’t want to hear the rest of it. Rolling his eyes and turning off the water, he walks over the ruined cake and places it on the counter.

No words leave Toms mouth and Harrison lets out a sigh. Coming over to his best friend, his best friend who seemed to have the world on his shoulders only at the age of 25.

“Tom, this isn’t just about Riley. This is about you as well. This is about you finding someone and finally having some peace because your life right now is simply just working and at the end of the day being a father. Sooner or later, Riley will realize his dad is always locked up in his office and maybe a women can change some things.” Harrison placed his hand on his shoulder before walking off.

“Daddy!” He hears the excitement of his sons voice come into the room.

“Hey Bubs!” He lifts up the boy. He plants a kiss on his cheek and he holds his new Spider-Man toy in hand.

“Can Jasper sleep over? He says he has a Spider-Man too and that we can play together. Can he please?” He pleads. For Riley, Harrison’s words echo in his head about the women.

Tom sighs, if he had a mother who wasn’t apart of a mafia like him. He would simply not have to deny his boy sleepovers and simple things.

“Sure.” He sighs thinking of how he will have to move his 8am meeting to the afternoon.

His best friend was right. He needed someone and maybe that someone would be you. Maybe he should for once take the leap and go for you.

Please leave feedback it helps me out and let’s me know if you want another part!

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goldenzingy46butwriteblr · 3 years

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serial killer tomarry fic recs please? 🥺

[Evil laughter] I got you, Amanda...

Of Shadow and Blood by Wolf_of_Lilacs

Even serial killers should exercise caution when picking up hitchhikers. Who knew? (Certainly not Tommie Riddle, with a pathological fear of death and a taste for the macabre.)

I love this one to pieces. Femslash, vampire Harry... glorious.

The Matchmaker by TanninTele

'The Matchmaker' is a serial abductor whose modus operandi consists of pairing two same-sex individuals together in a coffin, six feet underground - buried alive. He isn't a killer. He's a kidnapper with morals, and Detective Chief Inspector Tom Riddle finds himself obsessed with solving the case.

Unfortunately for Tom, the Matchmaker is just as intent on knowing him.

This one is a personal favourite. I don’t want to spoil anything, but let’s just say Tom is the detective here.

Mania by Angel_of_Mysteries

Harry and Tom have been together for two years, and Harry’s finally ready to take their relationship to the next level. Little does he know, so is Tom.

Hm, yes, this one is pain. My own notes on the bookmark are spoilers, so I won’t post these here, but let’s just say there’s no happy ending for Harry here.

City Lights by tarouhi

The Puppeteer has made a name for himself in London. The infamous serial killer's eccentric methods of killing brings havoc for the authorities. It escalates until one Tom Riddle and his team are assigned to the case.

It's a good thing that Harry always comforted him when he's home.

This one is quite sweet, actually! Tom is the detective once again, and Harry is his boyfriend. It’s a WIP at the moment, with four chapters, but a definite favourite.

In Essence, Divided by Wolf_of_Lilacs

Her phone read 2:13 a.m.

Super spooky. Femslash. Would recommend, 10/10.

Through A Glass Darkly by Wolf_of_Lilacs

The night is dark and full of terrors. Look away. There is naught but disquiet here. (Always femslash.)

Who am I kidding, have the whole series. Delicious.

You’re bleeding because you don’t floss by Arualiaa

Doctor Riddle harbours a dark secret. With an artist's soul and a steady hand, he cleanses the world of imperfection, one careless patient at a time. When Harry Potter shows up at his clinic, he finally finds the perfection he'd been looking for.

It is right then and there when Tom Riddle, odontologist and serial killer, decides that he must protect that smile at all costs.

This one is so weird. And so sweet.

Murder Husbands by Prince_of_Pharaohs

Tom Riddle is the infamous, well-known serial killer: Lord Voldemort. A terrifying killer who has never been seen, not even a silhouette or anything. Harry Potter, on the other hand, is the notorious murderer edgily named: Master of Death. An alpha-hating serial killer, who, as you expected, only targeted alphas.

They were two rival serial killers whose motives are completely unknown. Disturbingly, sometimes they even used their murders to communicate with each other, challenging the other.

Both of them are married to each other, not knowing the other was their rival. Then one thing led to another, and Harry is straddling his husband with a knife in hand.

Now, I’m not usually one for ABO, but this is good. Very good. Featuring rival serial killers, married. WIP, two chapers.

Depraved by IvoryRaven

Harry meets a stranger at his favorite cafe and they fall in love almost instantly, bonding over mutual interest in Harry's writing and murder.

Harry is a murder mystery writer. Little does he know that his new boyfriend is the notorious serial killer Voldemort.

This one is good, very good. No angst.

Ashes to Ashes by watchingvfall_n_drown

Tom's hands were made for destroying. He should never have tried to hold on to something so beautiful in the first place. He couldn't go on denying his nature for long, could he? And now, the only thing he had ever treasured in the whole world was turned to ash by his own hand.

Short, but incredibly painful.

Light House by teecup_angel

Hermione is a new recruit of Scotland Yard. A week after her placement in Remus Lupin’s team, they get a case of highest priority: the abduction of Harry Potter.

This one is pretty good. It is a WIP, though, with two chapters remaining, and was last updated in 2016. Be warned.

And now, hijacking fic recs to rec my own fics...

darling, i’ll dream of you when you’re gone by goldenzingy46

Tom Riddle is a perfectionist serial killer, looking for ways to murder his next victim - the optimistic, dreadfully pretty Harry Potter.

But wait, something else happens too.

(For the Distractions' Halloween Big Bang.)

No happy ending for Tom in this one.

My Heart Beats Against Your Silver Knife by goldenzingy46

Harry Potter was never the kind of man to care about his life, eating cheap food in a cheap flat and never bothering to futher himself - why should he?

He cared, however, when it came to solving crime - and the latest murder mystery was no exception, sending him all over London in hopes of solving it and many crimes associated with the help of the charming Tom Riddle from Riddle Manor, just up the hill.

But there was something slightly off about Tom Riddle...

(Still not happy with the summary.) WIP, not abandoned, involving detective Harry and serial killer Tom, who ‘helps out’ as a profiler.

long fingers for a woman by goldenzingy46

Tommie Riddle is a serial killer who likes to choke the life out of men.

Harriet Potter likes to wear drag.

Mistakes are made, but all in all, the ending came out fine.

Femslash, crossdressing, serial killers, happy ending.

Send in asks for any fic recs you’d like!

Fandoms can be found in the previous message, but a quick reiteration: Lucifer, Good Omens, Sherlock, Marvel, Harry Potter - if you’re interested in fic recs for these fandoms, check out the last fic rec post for what I can offer.

#fic rec #fic rec list #harry potter #tomarry #serial killers

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rika90 · 3 years

Text

Die Reise des Raben

Kaz Brekker x female reader

warnings: violence, death, swearing

word count: 4k

A/N: My first try at writing ever. Feedback is highly appriciated. If you see grammer or spelling mistakes, feel free to message me so I can fix the mistakes. English is not my first language. I really hope you guys enjoy my story!

(Y/N) had only been six years old when it had first happened. She had played hide and seek at her home with a boy from the neighbourhood and, in her humble opinion, found the best hiding spot of all time. In her parents' closet there was a small room behind the back wall. Hardly big enough to squeeze in and completely empty except for two swords. When her eyes fell on the swords, it was as if she could hear a whisper. (Y/N) looked over her shoulder, but she was still alone in her parents' room. She looked back at the swords and examined them more closely. They were not particularly long. The scabbard was made of blood-red wood and covered with black patterns that looked like bird feathers. The hilt was black too and (Y/N) wondered what the rest of the sword would look like. She reached out for one of the swords but hesitated to touch it. (Y/N) had always been fascinated by knives and had started early to always carry one with her when she played outside. The barrel was dangerous – even for children. But her mother, after catching her five-year-old daughter with a knife and bloody hands, had forbidden her to even touch a sharp knife. It wasn't her blood at all, but that of an older boy who had tried to take the few coins from her that she was supposed to use to buy bread from the baker.

'But this wasn't a knife, right?' (Y/N) thought. And even if she wanted to resist – she just couldn't. The two swords seemed to have a magical pull on her. With one last look over her shoulder, (Y/N) grabbed the sword closest to her. As her hand closed around the sword, she felt a shiver run through her. With her other hand she drew the sword from its scabbard. The blade was made of dark curved steel and (Y/N) immediately had the feeling that her and had merged with the handle, like the coldness of the steel seeps into her arm. She closed her eyes. It felt so right.

“Honey, where are you? Peter can't find you anywhere…. Oh my god (Y/N)! Drop that sword immediately!” (Y/N) opened her eyes and saw her completely astonished mother standing in front of her. (Y/N) could see the sheer panic in her eyes. Her father rushed into the room and stopped dead when he saw his daughter. Both parents had their eyes fixed on the arm (Y/N) was holding the sword with. She lowered her gaze and realized what had frightened her parents. Black patterns similar to those on the scabbard ran over her hand and up to the elbow. They would have been reminiscent of tattoos if they hadn't withdrawn in front of their eyes towards the sword.

"(Y/N), put the sword down and come over here," urged her mother. (Y/N) put the sword back into its sheath and carefully placed it on the ground. She didn't really want to let go of it, but the desire to placate mother was stronger.

"I suspected it," (Y/N)'s father mumbled and looked at his wife as she hugged (Y/N). "She has always had an affinity for blades. But that the wakizashi would react so strongly to her..."

"Put these things away," (Y/N)'s mother hissed and led her daughter out of the room.

The rest of the day (Y/N) tried to get her parents to talk to her about what had happened. But her mother made it clear that they would never talk about the swords again and that (Y/N) should forget about them immediately. Her father would sell them at the port tomorrow. (Y/N) shivered at the thought, but she saw no chance of keeping the

swords from being sold.

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Everyday life quickly went back to normal, and nobody said a word about the two swords. But (Y/N) could not forget the feeling, the power that flooded her as she held the sword. So, she got herself two wooden sticks, carved them into shape as best she could, and trained. She had no idea how to wield a sword, but she practiced and practiced until her arms got

heavy. Her stamina had improved, but it was far from being called a fighting technique. She found school teaching sword fight in the university district near the 1st port. It was a long way from the barrel, but since her parents were working all day anyway, she had enough time to get there and come back unnoticed. (Y/N) secretly observed the students through a

window. She tried to memorize everything to recreate it later with her makeshift swords.

She hid the wooden swords under a loose floorboard in her room. As she was about to put them away again, her father came into the room to get her for dinner. (Y/N) froze, still one of the swords in hand. Her father looked from his daughter to the sword and back again. Then he closed the door and went up to her. (Y/N) didn't know what to expect, though it was

not the understanding look he gave her.

"You secretly exercise?" It sounded more like a statement than a question.

"Yes, for a while now," (Y/N) answered. Why should she lie?

Her father laughed softly. "I should have guessed. After all, you are the first to whom the wakizashi responded since your great-grandfather."

"What do you mean by that?" (Y/N) asked.

"These swords have been in my family for centuries. Most of the members could wield them like ordinary short swords. For some, however, these patterns appeared. It was as if the swords themselves gave them more power, speed and strength. My grandfather still didn't use them very often. He said he felt like he was losing his soul to the swords. That he felt a darkness dwelling in them. How much of it is true I can't say, but I hope you never have to find out. And now let us go out to eat."

After her father had finished, (Y/N) was left with more questions than answers.

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4 years later

The second time (Y/N) picked up those swords was on the day that changed her life forever.

She woke up when she heard screams from the staircase. The next second her father stormed into the room and pulled her out of her bed and towards her parents' bedroom.

"Dad, what's going on?" (Y/N) asked slightly panicked.

"You have to hide immediately. And no matter what you hear or see - DON'T COME OUT!" her father replied while he opened the door to the closet and pushed (Y/N) into the small room behind the wall unit. It was pitch black in (Y/N)'s hiding place, but she could hear the front door being kicked in and her mother screaming.

"Please excuse our unannounced visit," (Y/N) heard a deep male voice sneer, "But you're far behind with your payment and Bayson has announced what will happen if you can't pay."

"Please, Tom, we've already given Bayson everything we could spare. Please give us a few more weeks - we'll get the money," (Y/N)'s father pleaded.

"No, you had your chance," Tom answered.

"If you kill us, you will never get your money," (Y/N)'s mother whimpered.

(Y/N) sat in her hiding place, frozen with fear. Her parents owed money to some gangsters? Why hadn't they said anything to her? She could have gotten a job. She could have helped. What should she do now? Would these guys really kill her parents? She had to get to them and try to protect them. But she couldn't move, the fear was too strong. And honestly... what could she have done?

"That's true," Tom's voice was cold and void of any emotion, "But you'll be a deterring example to anyone who thinks they can mess with the Blue Moons. And maybe your pretty daughter can bring in a few more Kruge."

"Don't you dare-," (Y/N)'s father began, but before he could end his threat, two shots rang out, followed by two thuds.

"What weaklings, it’s a miracle they survived in the barrel for so long," (Y/N) heard Tom laugh.

(Y/N) had pressed her hands over her mouth to stifle the scream that threatened to break out. Tears sprang to her eyes and rolled down her cheeks.

"Boss, the girl is not here," one of the men reported.

"Doesn't matter. One more orphan in the barrel. She won't survive for long on her own anyway. Let's get out of here," Tom replied and (Y/N) heard steps moving away. She stayed in the room for a while and then forced herself to leave her hiding place.

It was dark in the apartment and only a single candle was still burning in the hallway. (Y/N) forced herself to take the last step into the hallway and saw her parents slumped on the floor.

'Headshot,' thought (Y/N) absentmindedly. At least it had been quick. She felt like she was detached from her body. She sank down in a daze. What should she do now? Get the stadwatch? She snorted at the thought. Nobody cared about two dead people from the barrel. And certainly not about her. At best she would go to an orphanage, at worst she would be sold to someone.

'I should leave while I still can,' she decided.

After throwing a few things into her bag, she went back to her parents' bedroom. She knew that her father kept the old, small family photo album in one of his drawers. He had often looked at it with her in the past. When she was about to put it in her bag, a piece of paper fell out. (Y/N) picked it up and recognized her father's handwriting.

They are not sold. I knew that one day you would need them. I hid them under my mattress. I am sorry that I will no longer be there to protect you. But you are strong, you will live!

Love, Dad.

(Y/N) blinked away the tears and pulled the mattress off the bed to get the swords. She would train until she was strong enough to kill every one of the Blue Moons. They would pay for what they did to their family. They would all die, and she would live.

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4 years later

She had saved Boysen for last. Enjoyed how his panic grew with every member of the Blue Moons found dead and slashed. She had initially intended to kill him right away, but it was better to start with some weaker members first to practice her skills. And Tom had fit perfectly in that category. He had been the first person (Y/N) ever killed. And it had been great. The second she had grabbed the wakizashi to avenge her family, she had felt like she was born to do exactly that. To bring pain and darkness. She had felt the power spreading throughout her body and had welcomed the cold that allowed her to kill without hesitation.

At first, she had planned to wipe out the Blue Moons as soon as possible, but in time she had found a pleasure in watching them first try to find her and later try to hide from her. (Y/N) took more than a year to gradually thin the ranks of the Blue Moons. But tonight, she would end it. There were only Boysen and half a dozen of his men left. He had gathered his best men a while ago and went underground. Left the rest of the gang to their fate.

(Y/N) stood in the shadow of an old house, watching a warehouse on the docks. There she had located the rest of the Blue Moons. Her hood was pulled low over her face, so the raven mask was barely visible. The black tattoos that always appeared as soon as she fought with the swords could already be seen on her hands and arms. She slid noiselessly along the hall. Only one man stood guard. That was done quickly. (Y/N) covered his mouth from behind to stifle his scream as she pierced him with her short sword. (Y/N) let the man fall to the ground and entered the hall through a side entrance. There were four men sitting around a table playing cards. Boysen and another man stood a little further away and seemed to be discussing something.

"Hello guys," (Y/N) said, enjoying the panic breaking out around her. The men almost toppled over each other in a rush to get their weapons.

"How did you find us, Rabe?" Boysen called and aimed his gun at (Y/N) with a trembling hand.

"Oh, I just followed the stink of fear and voila, here you are," (Y/N) said as she looked at the men. She felt the swords literally vibrate in her hands. The urge to kill was almost overwhelming.

'In a moment, a little more patience,' (Y/N) thought.

"We are not afraid of you. You have no chance against all of us," one of the other men replied.

"Is that so?" (Y/N) asked softly and looked at the man with a tilted head, "Well, then I'll teach you fear."

She ran off. Faster than a human should be able to. She felt the power rush through her veins, making her faster and stronger. She was in a frenzy. The first two men were dead before anyone could really process what had happened. The other two at the table opened fire. (Y/N) whirled her swords and fended off the bullets. The men got big eyes and stumbled backwards.

"What the hell are you?" one of them shouted.

"Your end," (Y/N) jumped up to the men and slit them open with two well-aimed blows. Blood spurted from their wounds and in their last seconds the men tried in vain to keep their intestines from oozing out.

She turned away and set about crushing the last two cowardly rats. Boysen and his companion had run away, but they couldn't have been far yet.

(Y/N) ran over the roofs and discovered the two men trying to untie a boat at the harbour.

She knocked the head off the shoulders of the one man without further ado. His body fell into the water with a loud splash. Boysen spun around and fired a pistol. But (Y/N) was prepared for it, ducked away, knocked the weapon out of his hand and held her two swords crossed in the shape of an X in front of his neck.

Boysen was frozen.

"Why me? Why the Blue Moons?” he asked.

"You had my family killed. With others, you may have always gotten away with it. It's just your bad luck that I'm the uncrowned queen here in the barrel when it comes to killing." With these words, (Y/N) slit Boysen’s throat, but only enough to render him helpless. He would bleed to death slowly and painfully. He slumped to the ground and stared up at her. She smiled down at him.

She stayed with him until he took his last breath. She felt nothing, no remorse, no regrets. Only darkness, but at the same time a deep satisfaction that always set in after a fight with her swords. She put the wakizashi back into their sheaths. She knew she had already gone too far.

There was no turning back for her. Her great grandfather might have been strong enough to withstand the call of the swords. But she wasn’t, the rush was too good. So why should she stop?

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

1 year later

She strolled along the harbour, the adrenaline still pumping through her veins. The black patterns hadn't completely withdrawn after their last fight and (Y/N) still felt the strength and darkness that came with the use of her wakizashi. It was like a frenzy. Fighting with her swords was like a drug. And (Y/N) was a hopeless junkie. She had long since given up on worrying that the darkness and bloodlust would eventually devour her completely. Because it was bound to happen as long as she wielded the swords. And while she was a good shot and a very passable fighter with her fists – as she had to, to survive this long in the barrel – she was the deadliest with her swords. She had made a name for herself as Der Rabe and was able to keep herself afloat from the jobs she received. At least until she wouldn't be fast enough in a battle, or the swords would drive her crazy. She had lived in the barrel since she was born, at some point the time would just run out, so why worry? What in her life was worth fighting for, except for the next meal? Everyone fought for themselves, others were always a risk. Trusting the wrong people could end badly. Very bad. (Y/N) put one hand over her heart where the faded scar was.

Lost in thought, she almost overheard the voice that seemed to come from the dock. (Y/N) looked over the edge in astonishment. The picture that presented itself should have been disturbing, but she had seen a lot in her time in the barrel. A boy with dark hair, about her age, was hanging on the ladder and muttering to himself. He looked more dead than alive. Not far from him another body was floating in the water. Already rotting and bloated.

It was clear that the dark-haired boy would never make it up the ladder. Any second, he would let go and sink down.

'At least it's over then,' (Y/N) thought and was about to turn away when the boy opened his eyes and looked up at her. (Y/N) caught her breath and a pleasant shiver ran down her spine. His eyes were such a piercing, rich blue that they seemed to glow even in his dirty, sunken face.

When (Y/N) went down the ladder to drag the boy onto the quay wall, she didn't know exactly why she wanted to help him. She had seen many people in need in the barrel and had not wasted a second on them. Perhaps it was the seemingly irrepressible determination in those blue eyes that seemed to call out, "I want to live!"

Somehow, she felt connected to the boy.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"I can do it. I have to make it. I can do it," Kaz kept muttering to himself so as not to completely lose consciousness. His whole body ached, and he knew that he wouldn't have long before all his strength would leave him. Kaz blinked up. He just had to climb this incredibly high and steep ladder and then he would be safe. At least safe from drowning. Everything else he would worry about when the time came.

'I can do it ... I just need to rest for a moment,' Kaz closed his eyes and continued muttering to himself. He felt his grip begin to loosen and tears his eyes open. On the quay wall he saw a figure completely clad in black, who seemed to be watching him with their head tilted. They were wearing a knee-length coat and had the hood pulled over their head. Their mouth was covered by a tube scarf and the area around the eyes was covered by some kind of mask. The figure reminded Kaz of a reaper. 'No way, forget it,' Kaz thought, 'You definitely won't get me tonight! Not after all I have endured to get here.'

Kaz stared at the figure stubbornly. But when they swung themself over the quay wall and descended the ladder, fear seized him. What was that supposed to mean? Would they throw him in the water? Why didn't they just move on?

When the figure was only a step above him, they turned and grabbed his arm with one hand still on the ladder. At the touch bile rose up in Kaz' throat and he fought against the looming faint that threatened to overwhelm him. He tried to tear himself away from the hand that was holding him and didn't even notice that the person didn't want to push him away, but rather pull him up.

"Hey, stop fidgeting. I'm trying to save your ass right now and I don't feel like going for a swim," Kaz heard a voice that could hardly be made out through the fabric in front of the mouth. Still, Kaz could hear that the voice sounded feminine and didn't quite match the Reaper Kaz had in front of him. `Why is she whispering?’ Kaz wondered and paused to look at the girl, because that was what she had to be. But through the hood and mask he couldn't see anything except a pair of dark eyes that glared at him angrily.

The girl used the short pause to tighten her grip. She had amazing strength in her arm and managed to pull Kaz onto the ladder. Kaz found support with his foot on the lowest step but was now so close to the girl that he felt the panic collapse over him. Everything went black and he only heard the curse the girl uttered before the darkness completely enveloped him.

"What the hell- ?!" (Y/N) wrapped her arm around the boy's chest to keep him on the ladder, but he sagged completely and dragged her into the water. (Y/N) reappeared with a splutter, still holding the boy.

"Holy shit, is that cold!" she cursed and paddled back to the ladder to grab it with one hand.

"Hey, wake up! Wake up!” she shook him, but he didn't react. She felt for a pulse – why should she bother when he is already dead? With bated breath she waited - and felt a pulse. Alive but unconscious.

"Shit, what now?" she thought. Let go of him? No, that was out of question. (Y/N) looked up and counted the stairs. Seven. She could do seven. She was a good deal taller than him and had a strong upper body from all the sword training. She pulled the boy's arms over her shoulders, so his chest was pressed against her back and tied his wrists with her belt to keep him from slipping off during the ascent. She pulled herself up on the first step. The boy hung on her back like a heavy backpack.

'Thank God he's so emaciated, otherwise this would never work,' (Y/N) thought.

After three steps she had to readjust the boy's arms, her own burning from the effort of lifting herself and easily 45 kilograms of dead weight.

"Why am I doing this to myself again?! For a pair of pretty eyes? I must be completely crazy," (Y/N) grumbled to herself.

After what felt like an eternity, (Y/N) heaved herself and the boy over the quay wall. With her eyes closed she lay on her side panting to catch her breath. She untied the boy's hands and sat up.

'I'll have sore muscles tomorrow,' she thought as she rolled her shoulders to relieve the tension in her cramped joints. She looked at the boy who was still unconscious. She shook his shoulder again to wake him, but again he didn't move.

"Oh, isn't that convenient for you," (Y/N) muttered, "If you think I'll drag you just a meter further, you're wrong."

She looked around, you could already see dawn looming at the horizon, and she really had to hurry to get back to her room and change.

Again, she looked at the dark-haired boy. He was so pale, and his cheekbones were sharp against his face. 'If I leave him here and he dies, the whole effort would be in vain,' she thought. (Y/N) got up with a sigh, fastened her swords – which fortunately were still where she had left them – and grabbed one of his arms.

"So much on the topic 'Not one meter further'," (Y/N) thought. She slung him over her shoulder and pulled and dragged the boy toward the boarding house.

"He’ll be safe there for the time being and can recover. It’s time to look for something new anyway. I just take him there and then I'm really gone," (Y/N) debated quietly to herself.

TBC

#shadow and bone #shadow and bone imagine #shadow and bone x reader #kaz brekker #kaz brekker x reader #six of crows imagine #six of crows #six of crows x reader

97 notes · View notes

miraculouscontent · 3 years

Photo

Kagami and Marinette deserve so much better.

Anyway, let’s just start literally where this episode starts, because it makes no sense. Remember back in my “Truth” critique where I basically said that the episode seemed like it’d been shoved through multiple drafts and no one checked the final one?

Same applies here.

Like--okay, ”Truth” and “Lies” take place at roughly the same time, which means that the same filler akuma/sentimonsters appear to interrupt Adrimi’s moments just as they did with Lukanette’s, giving its audience a clear timeline of how the episodes line up. The reason this is important is because the writers can’t even keep consistency within singular episodes and then honestly thought that they could do it within two.

“Lies” begins with Marinette talking to Tikki about the grimoire, because apparently she has the non-translated version and there’s a secret to figuring out the code that Tikki believes Marinette will discover eventually.

...Alright, I’m derailing here but I have to add how absolutely stupid Fu was when dealing with translating the grimoire. He was supposed to teach Marinette how to be guardian, yet he didn’t teach her how to read the grimoire (if there’s supposedly a “secret” to it, is he really going to bank on Marinette figuring it out herself eventually instead of just giving it to her and avoid the risk altogether??), kept the translated pages on his tablet without sending them to Marinette as he deciphered them, and took time to write a letter to her in “Miracle Queen” but left no guardian-centric advice for her to work off of, meaning that Tikki had to explain how the Miracle Box worked to Marinette back in “Truth.”

The show goes out of its way constantly to turn everything against Marinette even if it makes all the characters around her look either incompetent or cruel. It’s not that I’m not used to this by now but it’s just infuriating that it keeps trying to raise the stakes and tension when Marinette made such a tiny mistake to cause the issue in the first place, and now we find out that Fu had no back-up plan or strategy, apparently expecting this 14-year-old girl to act perfectly and cover for him.

And of course, instead of leaving the scene off on Marinette being encouraged by Tikki and Marinette showing confidence in herself (i.e: what would’ve been a nice scene), the kwami accidentally fumble with the keyboard in such a way to have Marinette’s computer bring up a news story about Adrien, which leads to Marinette leaning towards her computer and sighing over Adrien and his “amazing life.”

Can I just point out how annoying it is that all the Adrienette moments so far on Marinette’s end have been forced, not just in general (because we’re used to that), but literally forced by the plot so Marinette would talk about him or other characters would bring Adrien up?

“Truth” had Alya insult Marinette to her face over her Adrien crush because Marinette was freaking over something non-Adrien related that they couldn’t have known about, Luka was sent a no-context picture of Marinette’s Adrien wall which led to him lowkey teasing her about it, and then Truth was forced to listen to Marinette’s friends and Tom babble about Marinette’s supposed crush on Adrien even when Truth points out that it’s not a secret, making the “joke” fall absolutely flat.

And now “Lies” comes along and has the kwami drop things and step on the keyboard in the exact way to pull up Adrien stuff for Marinette to fawn over. It’s at this point I’m realizing that - had the kwami stayed inside the box or just not been around in general - Marinette literally wouldn’t have brought up Adrien at all in either “Truth” or “Lies” and now I’m sad. I really don’t want to have a counter for “episodes where Marinette wouldn’t have so much as breathed Adrien’s name if the kwami/someone else wasn’t there to force it.”

So yeah, the episode had to force Adrienette into its Adrimi episode because the show can’t go five minutes without reminding the audience that Adrien exists even though this episode is primarily from his point of view, made worse by this scene’s lack of ability to exist.

See, from the timeline in “Lies” lining up with “Truth,” there is no possible way for this opening scene with Marinette talking about guardian stuff and then fawning over Adrien to happen. There’s an akuma scene in “Lies” that literally is just copy-pasted from “Truth” (it actually does this again with another scene later but that’s not important right now), so that means anything that takes place before said scene in both “Truth” and “Lies” have to line up.

Except they can’t. The akuma scene in question interrupts Marinette’s movie date with Luka in “Truth,” and before that, she had just opened the Miracle Box, wrangled up the kwami, talked to the girl squad over video call, talked to Luka, and then immediately had to leave. There are no cuts or wiggle room anywhere in there.

Therefore, the scene in “Lies” is impossible. Either the scene is supposed to go elsewhere in the episode (we don’t actually know how many days it takes up so it’s hard to say on that front) which just makes the episode even more convoluted, or this means that one would have to pick between the scene in “Truth” and the scene in “Lies” because they literally cannot co-exist.

“Lies” was supposed to coincide with “Truth” and they messed it up in the first scene of the episode.

Then comes Adrien himself, who really shows the series’ clunkiness in focusing on other characters. It’s not that I’m against the show moving away from Marinette to show other people’s point-of-view (I definitely didn’t complain during the Couffaine sibling scene in “Reflekdoll”), but Adrien cannot carry his own episode.

In Marinette’s opening scene, we immediately got details on the grimoire and lore about how reading it actually worked. I didn’t like it and it wasn’t good, but it was new information.

Adrien, meanwhile, spends a large portion of the episode being sad (a very grand and unique plot, my dudes) and giving us information we already know. “Truth” has to come first because “Lies” is half of a follow-up on it, meaning that the audience is already aware that Ladybug has been forgetful and has had to miss out on patrols. It’s just that now we get to see Chat Noir sulking about it and--okay, I am just going to go off, alright?

Firstly, Chat Noir tells Ladybug later on that he “understands” her guardian duties, but he previously mocked her behind her back by using air quotes when he was talking to her answering machine (since she obviously wouldn’t see that). We saw in “Truth” where he admitted that he doesn’t mind her being guardian “as long as it doesn’t change their relationship,” and that’s on display right here with his comments.

Not only is it extremely disrespectful, but for someone who claims to be so loyal and understanding to Ladybug, he sure doesn’t show it.

Secondly, he leaves her a message about how he’ll take care of patrol, then proceeds to slack off because she’s not there to keep him in check. He sulks around Paris, mumbling about how Ladybug isn’t around and constantly checking his messages to see if she’s replied to him. Chat Noir has shown his “priorities” in terms of heroism before, but patrol isn’t supposed to be about getting time with “““his lady”““ yet that is clearly all he cares about. He even ends the patrol unprompted, either giving up or just generally having not finished, because I don’t believe that the “end” of patrol just happened to be at the place Kagami was.

Patrol is about protecting Paris and scoping things out. Ladybug is trusting him to pick up the slack when she’s not around and he should be picking up slack, yet he has completely failed on that front. This is made worse when considering that the Season 3 finale had Ladybug breaking down to him from guilt and we know that Marinette had a breakdown before that to Luka, yet Chat is doing nothing to lighten Ladybug’s burden, putting up a falsehood on Ladybug’s answering machine to make him look better than he actually is.

Then, thirdly and most importantly/infuriatingly, Chat Noir knows that Ladybug is busy and he knows that she’s taking on a new responsibility, yet he not only jabs at her for “how hurtful it is when she leaves him to patrol alone” (one, cry me a river, and two, I don’t care if it’s a joke, it’s insensitive), but before that scene, he was actively hoping for people to get akumatized so Ladybug would be forced to show up and he could spend time with her. He egged Xavier Ramier on, even asking him if he “missed being Mister Pigeon,” and then looked on with glee as Chloe bullied Sabrina because he thought that an akumatization might happen.

And this is on top of so many other issues with this whole scene. Adrien complains all the time about his schedule and how restrictive his father is, but suddenly - in the episode right after Marinette had to break up with her boyfriend due to her cramped schedule - is lounging around and wasting time. It hurts to see Marinette suffering from all of her responsibilities while Chat’s biggest problem is how little time he gets with Ladybug.

Also, another point on Mister Pigeon is that that’s the akuma that had interrupted Marinette’s movie date and kiss with Luka. I’m not suggesting that Chat egging Xavier on led to him getting akumatized, but I am saying that Chat wanting akuma to happen with no regard for Ladybug’s happiness is yet another point on the list of why I hate the love square. Marinette genuinely forgot about patrol with him - genuinely was forgetting about everything, really - and as a “punishment,” her own partner whined, didn’t patrol properly, and egged on an akumatization that eventually ended up happening which then broke up the little bit of happiness that the universe was allowing her to have.

Oh, and did I mention that he’s also dating Kagami at the time as well because here we freaking go.

Now, I did not get on Marinette’s case for her Adrien wall and stammering because Luka is largely aware of where she stands in the relationship and she only brought Adrien up when someone else did, even when Luka wasn’t around or being mentioned. Adrien, however, I have multiple bones to pick with, starting with how utterly needy he is for Ladybug’s attention.

This guy has tons of friends, all these fans, and could get people to flock to him whether in or out of the mask, but he wants Ladybug, and anyone not Ladybug isn’t good enough. There’s a scene later in the episode where Kagami - his girlfriend, mind you - is pouring her heart out to him, and he gets distracted by Ladybug instead of listening to her. Even when he excuses the distraction, he then gets distracted again even though Ladybug is no longer in the background.

Lying to protect his identity is one thing, but what Adrien does to Kagami goes beyond that. He’s pining after and flirting with another girl and Kagami has no idea. She’s speculated before that Adrien likes Marinette, but she’s mostly left in the dark because Adrien hasn’t told her anything, nor has he confirmed with her whether it’s okay or not for him to flirt with other girls so long as he’s not pursuing them. He could’ve admitted that he was in love with Ladybug but that he wants to try things with Kagami, but he refuses to open up to her or put himself out there.

Except, he technically does, once, when Kagami tells him to pose for her and he strikes his transformation stance, but he caught her completely off-guard and it’s no wonder why she was put off by it or thought it was unnatural. Not only that, but when Kagami tells him that he’s acting like a clown in that scene, we can see by jumping back to “Truth” that Chat Noir fished for Ladybug’s compliments which then led to a line about him talking about how Ladybug enjoyed him acting like a clown; a direct connection.

Kagami didn’t validate him, so he fished for Ladybug to do so because Ladybug was both forced to answer the question and wasn’t able to lie to him. The show has Ladybug state that her most preferred trait of his is his humor but I am certainly not laughing.

Chat Noir even goes further after the fight with Truth (so another copy-pasted scene) by saying that he has the most fun with Ladybug specifically, and this is all while he’s still dating.

Then this guy has the gall to talk during his break-up about how his fun times with Kagami weren’t lies after apologizing to her for his constant lying, as if he’s trying to earn her sympathy when we know that he’s been pining after Ladybug and flirting with her like she were his number one when he already had a girlfriend waiting for him (and who, by the way, had covered for him earlier and was sitting sadly on a staircase outside, feeling abandoned). The episode presents the break-up as if Adrien’s problem was the fact that he had to constantly lie to Kagami due to being busy with hero work (which is already dumb when we also saw him lounging around and complaining about how nothing was happening, meaning he was inadvertently supportive of the idea of having less time with Kagami and more time with Ladybug even if that means Paris is in danger), but the real problem ends up being that Adrien neglected Kagami emotionally and wasn’t able to give her the attention she wanted.

It’s both sad and annoying that Adrien has always sulked about his dad not paying attention to him and then we get Adrien not paying attention to Kagami, looking for Ladybug when Ladybug had already left and Kagami is trying to tell him something very important.

This is what I mean when I say that Adrien can’t carry an episode on his own. He’s incredibly selfish and most of his dialog just involves him complaining about Ladybug or making excuses. Kagami carried the episode more than he did because more details were revealed about her - specifically the fact that she likes drawing - and she’s active in making things happen (being the one to make the excuse to set up their fencing lessons, deciding what they’ll do with their hour of free time, etcetera).

And regardless of what girl he’s interacting with, Adrien can’t respect either of them. I just talked about Kagami and I’ve already talked about how he treats Ladybug when she’s not even around, but now we get to how he treats Ladybug when she is around.

During the climax of the fight with Lies, where Ladybug requires a distraction to safely pull off her lucky charm, Chat Noir decides - without Ladybug’s input - to sacrifice himself yet again.

I have to stress that Ladybug is stressed and Chat has always talked about her plans and listening to her, yet he has a horrible habit of making decisions all on his own and letting Ladybug deal with the fallout. Whenever he has the chance, he’ll throw himself in front of her and take the big hit, presumably with the mindset that Miraculous Ladybug will fix everything so it’s not like it matters.

Ladybug even shouts at him when he hints at what he’s about to do and there was absolutely time for them to talk about it, but Chat Noir just lets himself fall and be bait, even throwing out what is a clear confession (again, while he’s still dating someone else) before he’s knocked unconscious by Lies’ power.

And when Ladybug yells at him for it when everything’s said and done, pounding at his chest and looking absolutely upset over the whole thing? He not only brushes her off, but he boops her nose and talks about how “irresistable” her “angry little pout” is.

He might as well have just said, “you’re cute when you’re angry,” because that’s exactly what he’s implying; that Ladybug’s anger is something “amusing” to him and not something he takes seriously. We’ve already seen it before in “Reflekdoll” and “Oblivio” as well, so this is just a continuation of already-annoying behavior.

Then, instead of Ladybug getting even angrier for it, the episode has her smile at him, which not only isn’t a normal reaction compared to how she’s reacted before, but now gives the impression that she’s being conditioned by the narrative to accept Chat Noir’s behavior in whatever shape or form it takes.

Because think about it: regardless of how upset Ladybug gets over Chat Noir, it never works out for her and she’s forced to either make up with him quickly or just get over it because she can’t be fighting with her partner (meanwhile, like in “Glaciator,” Chat Noir can be as upset as he wants and she’ll apologize first). She presumably would now have the authority to take away his ring by virtue of being guardian, but he’s also been her partner from the beginning and he’s had so much time to get used to the cat. Most likely, she would sooner blame herself for failing to reign him in than blame him for failing as an adequate partner.

There’s nothing she can do. She has to deal with the hand that she’s been dealt and getting angry at him has done nothing; rejecting him has done nothing.

And of course the episode throws everything under the rug in the ending with an insulting LadyNoir scene where Ladybug and Chat Noir talk about the secrets their forced to keep but also how they can trust each other.

Meanwhile, Ladybug has no idea of all the things Chat Noir has done behind her back. She still has no clue about “Copycat,” nor “Syren,” nor any of the stuff he did in this episode that she’ll probably never know about. Factor it in with “Miraculous New York” (whether one considers it canon or not) where she rightfully shouted at him because he betrayed her trust, and here we are one and a half episodes later (since “Truth” and “Lies” take place at similar times) where suddenly they’re all buddy-buddy and Chat Noir doesn’t have to deal with any consequences to his selfishness.

I’m glad that Kagami didn’t forgive Adrien in the end (even if I’m upset that she doesn’t know how bad it really was) because she had every right to walk away and not want to be friends with him. I only wish that Ladybug could do the same thing and never look back, but due to the love square’s status as endgame, we know that can’t happen, and Ladybug will eventually be forced to fall in love with a guy who mocked her responsibilities behind her back, disrespected her authority by opting to tease/flirt with her, continued pursuing her despite her rejections, and hoped for Paris to be in danger just so he could see her.

And... yeah, that hurts. It really does.

#category: salt #episode: Lies #other: ask and answer #other: ml spoilers

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acourtofsnakes · 3 years

Text

Cabur - Rogue, Chapter 6| The Mandalorian x Force Sensitive! Reader (f)

Summary: A few weeks have passed and after landing on a small planet to collect a bounty, you and Mando decide to take a little trip to the market to stock up on some things. Nothing will come up here.. right?

Warnings: Angsty angsty annnnngst, (Sorry, I don’t mean to be so horrible to dear reader), Swearing (mild), brief mentions of death, touching on the same things as chapter 4 but not as heavy but I’ll still add the trigger warnings ♥︎ These chapters will get lighter, I promise,

Not beta read, I wanted to get this one out because I love it so apologies for any mistakes, I’ll be going in to edit a little later

Trigger warnings: Anxiety, horrible thoughts/insults, triggering comments maybe, thoughts of not being able to cope.

Words: About 6210

AN: Okay, okay, so, I was listening to my Rogue playlist on Spotify (link coming soon) and a certain song came on that just fuelled this chapter. SO, I highly recommend listening to Leave A Light On by Tom Walker if you want the vibes for this chapter. Just… honestly, please do it (I may have had tears)

As always, credit to whoever owns the gif. I usually find them on Google or Pinterest, so message me if it’s yours ♥︎

Rogue Taglist: @snipskixandbeskar @weirdowithnobeardo @the-bottom-of-the-abyss

Mando’a translation: Cabur - Protector or Guardian

A few weeks had passed since that night you saved the Mandalorian’s life, since he threw away the bounty puck to keep you safe.

You’d stayed that night grounded, and then when Mando was able to get up in the morning, he flew you off of that dump of a planet.

He didn’t ask anymore but how you had managed to save him. Whether he knew you were lying or not, he hadn’t pushed it, choosing instead to respect you. Kind of like how you respected him and his Creed.

You’d fallen into a sort of routine around the Razor Crest, without either of you realising it. Mando would fly the ship, and you could be found seeing to Grogu and Duru, or tidying things up. Sometimes you would clean the weapons in the cabinet, making sure they stayed in pristine condition.

Now and then, Mando would head out to get a bounty and when he got back, he would let you help patch him up. You never saw his bare skin, respected that. You would look away or close your eyes, pointing out the best things to use or how to administer them. The man was good at first aid, but his answer to everything was to shove the cauteriser on it. So, when you had been passing through some shops one day, you had stocked up on medical supplies, even found a shop selling the same herbs and plants that your mother had taught you about.

You’d even been on a few of the hunts with him.

Of course, you had argued first. When you’d asked him about it one day on the way out of Nevarro, Mando had simply said no.

Which had immediately riled you. You were not a girl who liked that word. You despised that word.

Which is how you’d spent the whole night and next two days bickering, over the question of your safety. When he lost that front, (“Seriously, Mando? I’m a fugitive. And after all, I’ve got a big, strong Mandalorian to protect me”) the Mandalorian had moved on to your lack of thinking before throwing yourself into the firefight.

He lost that one too.

(“Says the man who stole back a child surrounded by Stormtroopers.”

“You’re not coming. End of.”

“Did you want me to bring your pulse rifle over?”

“Are you even listening to me?”

“You’re right. Pulse rifle and an extra blaster.”

“I hate you, you know that?”

“Sure you do, Lori. I’ll see you at the ramp.”)

That nickname had slipped out by accident, and he’d regarded you, for a long time. He’d gone still, and you almost swore you heard a hitch of breath through his helmet and then he just nodded and murmured softly, “See you down there.”

There had been a lot of little moments like that but they were so fleeting that you were almost convinced you’d imagined it. You were imagining a lot of things lately.

Sometimes, when you were walking through forests or towns, you thought you spotted something lingering at the edges of your vision.

A tall figure, cloaked in a hood that was embroidered in either silver or gold, depending on the light.

You’d even asked Mando about it a few times, but he hadn’t seen anything so you simply put it down to a trick of the light or sleeplessness, nightmares still plaguing you now and then.

Regardless of the nightmares and your vision playing tricks on you, you were doing… okay. You were warm, safe, had a comfy place to sleep. You had things to keep you busy, things that weren’t hunting for food or a good spot to hunker down in for the night.

Duru was happy too, having become fast friends with Grogu and the two of them ran rings around you and the Mandalorian. Well, mainly Mando, which you found hilarious because he was such an exasperated dad with them both.

It was a rare reprieve from your life, letting you slow down and… live. Rather than survive.

“I do not talk in my sleep.”

“Yes, you do!! Sometimes, I think you’re awake but you’re just having a fully-fledged conversation with your blanket.”

“Oh, shut up. I know I don’t talk in my sleep, tin can. You were probably just having dreams about me again.” You examined the fruit in front of you, then handed over a few credits to the kind vendor, slipping the fruit in your bag.

The sound of fabric hitting the floor sounded from behind you, and you turned to see that the Mandalorian had dropped the bag you’d made him carry. “I do NOT have dreams about you!” He stooped to pick up the bag, then rose to see you standing with your hands on your hips, eyebrow raised and that damn smirk on your lips.

“Mmhm, is that why you always have to pull something over your lap when I wake you up?”

He stared at you, and you had the very correct feeling that he was looking at you in mild shock, too caught out to come up with his usual cocky response. “I -you.. That’s completely..”

You burst out laughing, rolling your eyes at him and then dropping him a wink, “Come get me when you’ve thought of a response, Lori.” You turned and carried on walking through the market.

The two of you had stopped off on a nearby trading planet, to gather supplies. Mando had recently secured a bounty with your help and it had paid well, giving you enough extra credits to stock up and treat yourselves. Grogu was already half-way through a packet of blue macarons, which would no doubt come back to bite you both later when he was pelting through the ship whilst you tried to catch him. And it would be your fault because you had taken one look at those big ears and eyes, determined not to break but when the little womp rat had cooed at you… Of course, he had gotten his own way.

It felt good, to wander a market and not be scrounging for things under the cover of a hooded cloak. You still had one on, you couldn’t bear to part with this item, the most beautiful piece of clothing you had ever had. You just didn’t have the hood up disguising you.

A gift, from Mando.

The first time you went out with him after the puck was destroyed, Mandalorian had insisted you wear yours. However, it had been covered in his blood from his injury, and you couldn’t get it out, no matter how hard you had tried. It hadn’t bothered you that much, though you were.. not sad as such, but it felt a little strange because it had been one of your few possessions for so long. But, maybe it was a symbol. That things had changed, and that was in the past.

A couple of days later, you had just walked into the cockpit when you noticed there was a package on your seat. When you picked it up, it was squishy, bound in a sort of thick papery material and tied with a length of string.

You’d glanced at the Mandalorian, who was watching you, the picture of calm but his hands had been fiddling with something on his belt, a shockingly nervous gesture you weren’t used to.

That simple, uncertain gesture had risen your pulse and you unwrapped the package, trying not to show how your hands were shaking at the first gift you’d received since being a child.

A gift from the Mandalorian.

Pulling away the paper had revealed a mass of fabric, a blue so deep it was almost the same colour as the night sky. You’d lifted it out and it had unfolded and revealed itself to be a new cloak. The material was soft, thick enough to keep out a biting chill. You’d made a noise of awe and surprise, but had immediately fallen in love with it, pulling it on. It fell to about the middle of your calves and secured at the base of your neck with a small silver clasp.

The inside was lined with a thin layer of heat-reflective material, and when you’d run a hand over it, Mando had finally broken his silence, “I noticed you were always cold, even if you had layers on so I.. wanted to make sure you weren’t cold anymore..”

You swore you could almost feel the heat creeping up his neck, and that softened you. He was nervous about giving you this cloak, like he didn’t know how you would take it.

You had smiled at him, a soft smile that made your eyes glitter like the surrounding stars and placed a hand on his knee lightly, “Thank you, Lori. I adore it, I truly do.” Then you’d spent the next minutes admiring it, putting the hood up and realising it shielded your face in shadow.

So, naturally, you had moved around the cockpit and upper level like a phantom, pretending to be a shadow in the night.

You’d even earned yourself a laugh from the great wall of beskar that was fast becoming your friend. It was only a soft chuckle, just picked up by the vocoder, but all the same, it had lit something within you.

It still echoed in your ears now.

A few moments later, the Mandalorian was back at your side, Grogu in his little bag and Duru walking next to him. “The point still stands. I thought I might finally get some silence at night, but you talk just as much.” His raspy voice had a softened edge, one of teasing and you might even have heard the hints of a smile playing at his lips.

You turned to look at him over your shoulder, “You love it when I talk. I have to talk to you, otherwise I’d be worried you had turned to stone. You’re so quiet sometimes.” You stopped at a stall, admiring the fabrics here – not to buy, just to look at the different things in a place you had never seen before.

The Mandalorian made a soft noise, “No, sweetheart, that’s just called quiet time. You might want to try it sometime.”

You opened your mouth to speak, but something behind Mando caught your eye. Rising up on tiptoe, you peered over his shoulder… but there was nothing there. Weird. You could have sworn you saw someone wearing a hood just… watching you.

You shrugged, assuming you had imagined it like before and then looked back to the man before you, “I can be quiet. I just choose to fill your hours with my wonderful voice.” You flashed him a grin, eyes dancing.

A voice cut across before Mando could talk to you, “You.” It was a snarl, tinged with recognition that wasn’t exactly the most positive. It was bitter, aggressive and almost… pained.

Mando turned quickly, his hand flying toward the blaster on his hip, instinct overriding him. His movement allowed you to see who had just interrupted the conversation.

A lady stood there, with curly magenta hair twisted up into a braid. She had tattoos along her neck, and her eyes were a shocking green. She was breathing quickly, staring at you with such disdain that it made your neck prickle.

How did you know this woman? You’d never been to this planet before.

You blinked, holding up your hands as a surrender gesture, “Uh… I’m sorry but I don’t know you. I think you must have me confused with someone else…”

The lady shook her head fiercely, making the whisps of her hair that had escaped bounce wildly. “No. I do not have you confused. I would know you anywhere.” Her eyes were wild with fury, pinning you to the ground with just a stare.

“I’m sorry, but I really don’t know who you are. Maybe you could tell me your name?” You extended a hand, trying to diffuse this situation and help the woman understand that you aren’t who she thinks.

She flinched back from your reach, even though she was still a good few feet away. “How dare you. You don’t even know who I am?” She made a noise of disgust, looking you up and down in such a way that you were surprised the skin didn’t flay from your bones, “Typical. I don’t know why I’m surprised. She was probably just another tool to you, wasn’t she? Another person to use and discard like trash.”

You blinked, your hands dropping to your sides. Your skin began to tighten, your blood turning a little frosty. You looked to the side, seeing a few people start to stop and watch this altercation happen.

The Mandalorian seemed to pick up on this at the same time as you. He turned more toward the lady, his hand still within reach of his blaster, “Why don’t we take this somewhere more private?”

The woman barely even looked at him, “Don’t get involved in this, Mandalorian. You’re just as bad as she is. At least to do what you do, you have to have respect and creed. You have morals, no matter how murky they are.” She jabbed a finger at you, “Unlike this savage monster.”

Your breathing immediately shallowed, getting a little unsteady as she spat out that word, that hateful word that followed you around and hounded at your feet. “I’m sorry? For whatever I’ve done, I’m sorry if it’s hurt you. I didn’t mean it, truly-”

She laughed, a cold and cruel laugh, but her eyes were slowly turning glassy with tears. She took a few steps closer, “You don’t even remember her name, do you? Shall I remind you? Help you distinguish her from your kill list?”

You didn’t fail to notice the way the Mandalorian’s stance shifted. His body tightened and he stood closer, shielding you slightly with one of those ridiculously broad shoulders. He was going on the defensive, feeling the situation start to spiral.

The woman barely spared him another glance, “3 years ago, you showed up on Trask. You stumbled around the market for a few days, bleeding from a wound in your leg and you passed out.”

Realisation was beginning to filter through you. It sparked in your mind and you remembered a dark street and rain, your leg heavy and cumbersome beneath you. It had burned like fire and when you went down, you couldn’t get back up again.

The woman was still talking, “Someone picked you up, took you to their home. My sister. She was there for work, and saw you lying in the street, like some kind of dumped animal. She nursed you back to health, gave you somewhere to stay.” She could see it as it began back to you, “You took her aid, her comfort and then, there was a warning put out in the village. There had been a high-risk fugitive spotted in the village. Anyone with information was to come forward immediately.”

Your hands curled into fists, your chest shuddering as guilt and darkness began to swirl within you, “Stop.”

She chose not to hear your quiet plea, “I was supposed to meet her. But she sent me a comms message. She would meet me, but she would have someone else with her. Someone who she couldn’t tell me over a comms message. Someone in trouble. People said this girl was dangerous, to be handed over with no hesitation but she didn’t see that. No, she said this girl was terrified, that she just wanted to live.” She tilted her head, walking closer again, “But the next day, this special little girl was gone. And then the Imperials came.” Her voice shook, her expression unreadable.

You shook your head mutely, not wanting to hear this, memories flooding your brain.

“Someone had tipped them off that my sister was harbouring a fugitive. They tore through her home, destroyed it and dragged her in for questioning. They demanded she tell them, beat her when she denied it. She never gave it up.”

The woman was right in front of the Mandalorian now, who extended his arm out, ‘That’s close enough.”

Nausea roiled your stomach, and you weren’t sure if you were going to pass out or throw up. There were too many eyes on you, too many people watching as this woman revealed you bit by bit.

The woman lowered her voice, deadly soft and it shook, but carried in the silent square, “My sister was murdered because of you. Because of what you are.”

Mando froze, his head tilting back to look at you slightly. You still hadn’t told him.

She wasn’t done. “They told me a few weeks ago that you’d been captured by a Mandalorian. I wept with relief that day, because I knew the Mandalorian wouldn’t fail. You’d be taken to whoever wanted you, and you would finally repent for every single sin you’ve ever committed. Your life is littered with them. My sister, my beloved sister is dead because of you. A killer. A beast. Your hands are stained red, girl, and they will always be stained red. I admit, I’m disappointed that you slithered into his head with your poison too but you will kill him too and then… You deserve everything that will ever come to you. And more.” The woman was breathing almost as quickly as you, her eyes glinting in sick delight at the pain she was causing you.

My sister is dead because of you.

A beast.

Her words mingled with that seductively dark voice in your mind and you gasped for a breath, knives feeling like they were digging into your lungs. Your eyes darted around, noted the strangers looking at you with horror and that shared disgust. A father pushed his daughter behind his legs as he caught your stare, hissing at you.

A flinch ran down your body and without a second thought, you turned tail and bolted. The sunlight was too bright, obscuring your vision harshly and making you stumble every now and then.

You were distantly aware of a male’s shout, then a harsh thumb and the Mandalorian’s voice snarling, “Stay down.” He stopped to check your pursuer was down and then he was running after you. “Hey, wait.”

You ignored him, boots pounding into the dust as you ran through the market, needing to get out of this place, get away from her and the memories. Where the hell was the ship? It was right here a minute ago. I haven’t gone the wrong way. This is the way we came.

You could still hear Mando behind you, knew he was hot on your heels. “Drop it, Mando.” You led him around people and stalls, knowing if wanted to be in front of you, he would be. He was letting you flee, stopping anyone coming after you.

Dodging around a crate of fruit, you almost sobbed. There it was, the Crest, gleaming in the sunlight. You slowed down as you reached it, stopping a little way away to let the ramp come down, let you inside to sanctuary.

Nothing happened.

Bastard.

You took a breath, trying to get past the tightness in your lungs, “Let me in.”

“No. Not until you tell me what’s going on.” His voice was firm, arrogant, in a way like he knew best and you’d listen to him.

~“A killer. A beast. Your hands are stained red.”~

Your hands curled into fists at your sides, staring at the Crest, at where the ramp was tucked in tight. Your heart was pounding, not from the run, but from the realisation that no matter where you went, there would always be someone you had touched with that curse. “No. I’m not telling you anything. I don’t owe you anything.”

He laughed behind you, but it was a cool laugh, nothing humorous in it, “I’m not saying you owe me anything, princess. But some woman just cornered you in the street and spat abuse at you. I thought I would be prying you off of her, not chasing after you.”

A wolf. No. A beast.

You spun round, eyebrow raised, “Because I’m some wild animal that would rather fight than talk my way out of a situation?”

If he had no helmet, you would have seen him blink, “No, I’m not saying that. But, well. You have to admit it, don’t you?”

Something was beginning to prickle up the back of your neck, his words threatening to cut a little close, “Admit what?” Venom laced your tone and you tensed, as if bracing for a punch.

The Mandalorian walked closer, oozing confidence like he somehow knew you better than you knew yourself, “You don’t really think, do you? You never calculate the risks of a fight. You just jump straight in with no regard for your own safety. I mean, when I came for you on Sorgan, anyone smart would have seen a Mandalorian and run.” He wasn’t saying it in an arrogant way, he was saying it as fact. And he was right. A Mandalorian appeared on the street and you turned around and crossed to the other side. You didn’t engage him a fight and flirt with him.

A cold laugh rocked though you and you tilted your head, “Anyone smart? So you’re calling me stupid now? Is that it? Beast or stupid?” You took a few steps closer to him, ignoring the villagers milling around that had started to look, having heard the fight in the centre of the market. “Don’t you dare tell me I don’t calculate risks. You think I’ve had time to calculate risks in my life? I don’t have time to sit with my little notepad in my ship and jot down the pro’s and con’s of engaging in battle. I didn’t have the luxury of being trained like you.”

Bitter astonishment filled the Mandalorian’s voice, his own body going rigid, “The luxury of training?! You think I chose to become a Mandalorian? That I woke up one morning and skipped along to Mandalorian school?” His voice rose, the rough rasp turning to stone with every word.

You observed him with a steely gaze, something in you needing to push him away, to protect yourself before he got too close. So, you aimed for what you knew would work, his Creed. Your eyebrows rose, looking him up and down as you leaned your weight on one leg, “You’re telling me you weren’t born with that thing already stuck on your head?” Spiteful sarcasm dripped from your voice and you pointed up at his helmet.

The Mandalorian let out a snarl that no doubt usually sent normal people running. He stalked toward you with predatory grace, a hunter toward his prey. “Don’t you dare.” Like he read in your eyes where you were going with this.

Ugly triumph filtered though you as you stood your ground, not afraid of him, “It’s all the same with you Mandalorians, isn’t it. You have all your training, don your shiny armour and suddenly you’re better than anyone. That helmet goes on, you don’t have to face the consequences of what you’ve done. No one knows who you are, so you don’t need to take the blame.” These words were spiteful, beyond cruel and you hated yourself more and more for each one, but he was starting to get into the cracks, starting to see you. You couldn’t see him die.

Mando was right in front of you now, towering above you with all his broad-shouldered posture, frustration roiling off of him in waves. “You think I don’t feel remorse for what I’ve done?” His voice was so low, barely leashed.

You nearly purred, tasting the promise of a fight, even if it did twist a knife into your heart. “I’ve never seen it.” You tilted your head back to look up at him, letting every ounce of spoilt, cruel brattiness melt into your expression.

A soft growl rumbled through the helmet, so muted you barely heard it in the noises of the market behind him.

Yes. Yes.

And then he relaxed, his shoulders eased and his hands uncurled.

What? No – Disappointment, maybe even shock registered on your expression. You’d been sure, so sure that aiming for his beloved Creed would get him to fight you. Why hadn’t it worked?

Mando shook his head, the sunlight bouncing off of the shiny metal, “No. I’m not doing this with you. You can’t push me away, no matter how hard you try. You don’t mean anything that you just said, I can see it in your eyes.” He pressed a button on his vambrace, and the ramp opened behind you.

He saw you.

That dark beast was starting to awaken, its ears pricking up. You needed to get out of here, away from him, away from this, now. You just shook your head, turning around and walking up the ramp, watching Duru as she ran ahead of you.

Footsteps sounded from behind you as the Mandalorian followed you. He took Grogu from his little pouch, popping him on a cargo crate and Duru immediately jumped up next to him. “Don’t walk away from me. I’m trying to help you, but you keep shutting me out. Why did that woman say those things about you?” His gloved hand enveloped your wrist, his grip not tight or authoritative, but it began to break something in you.

“Let me go, Mando. I mean it.” You let ice creep into your tone, trying to disguise the cracking inside you, the darkness that was beginning to stir and whisper.

And the damn tin can saw it all. Your back was to him, but he still fucking knew, “Please… You know I would never judge you for it, for whatever you did to make her say that.”

Excuse me?

Anger flared through you now, igniting into a blaze and you snarled, “Whatever I did?!” You didn’t give him time to respond, not before you swung around, using his grip on your wrist for leverage. You had spent enough time around him now to become familiar with the plates of his armour, so you knew you aimed correctly when your fist connected with the side of his ribs between the front and back plates.

He grunted, jolting a little but he still didn’t let go. “Hey, I didn’t mean it like that. I only meant-” His voice had softened and, in your rage and hurt, you mistook the pleading tone for a condescending one.

Before he could finish, you punched him again, harder, “Don’t. Don’t try to start spewing excuses at me. I knew perfectly well what you meant. You thought that she had been hurt by me. That I killed her sister with my own hands. Probably slit her throat and bathed in her blood.”

“No, no, I didn’t. If you would just listen to me and stop shouting, please-“

Your foot connected with his shin, making him stumble backwards. You followed after him, “You didn’t even stop to think that maybe, for once, I didn’t actually do anything. But no. Like always, you looked at me and saw the worst. You assumed that I was a monster.” You chopped down at his inner elbow this time, causing him to let go of you in reflex.

Mando tilted his head, his voice coming out sharper this time, “I assumed?” He laughed, the bastard laughed, “What else am I supposed to do, sweetheart? You’ve been on this ship for nearly a month now and I still don’t know anything about you. So yes, I was wrong for assuming, but can you blame me?”

Your eyes flashed and you were on him again, “So it’s my fault that you thought I was a monster? You’d met me for all of two seconds on Sorgan and started whispering in my ear like honey, that death followed me wherever I went. There was a bounty over my head and that’s all you saw.”

Mando went still, his shoulders tightened, and his voice came out lower, “You’re still bringing that up? I told you that you weren’t my bounty anymore.”

Before you could answer him, that velvety voice inside your head started to whisper in your ear, “Oh no, oh my sweet darling. He sees you. The real you. He knows you’re a monster.”

You shook your head sharply, lifted your eyes back to the Mandalorian’s stupid face. Helmet. Visor. Whatever. “I’m not your bounty but you believed that woman. So say it.”

His confusion was palpable, “Say what?”

You took a step forward and your chest butted up against his, “Say it! Say that I’m a monster. A murderer. I kill everything I come near.” You laughed, coldly, the words coming out with your voice but in your head, they were being repeated in that cruel, silken whisper. “You regret it, don’t you? Throwing away my puck. You wish you’d kept it, then you could get rid of me, be free of what I’ve done, why I’m being hunted.” Those steel bands were still wrapped round you, crushing you, swallowing you whole again.

Something broke in him, his composure as the anger rose again and he leaned down to you, “Stop.” The command was a growl and he lifted a finger, pointing at you, “You’re a fucking hypocrite.”

Yes. Yes, fight back, fight me. Tell me what I know I am.

You raised your eyebrows, smirking at his finger and then back up at him but your expression was bitter, “Am I? Why’s that, Mando?” You tilted your head and practically purred, “Tell me.”

The tension in the room was tight, the air almost crackling around you with this outburst of emotion, the threads of your entwined lives pulling taut.

The light bounced off of the plates on his shoulders, betraying his slightly ragged breathing, “You just screamed at me for assuming the worst about you, yet you did just that to me. How can I want to be free of you, when I don’t even know who you are.” He lifted his hands to your shoulders, to try and calm you down, to push you away maybe.

The smirk began to slip from your face, “Does it matter who I am?”

His grip tightened, “Of course it does. Because you’re not a bad person. Let me help you, please. Just tell me something. Anything.” His voice turned pleading, and he lifted a hand from your shoulder, like he was going to cup your cheek.

You’re not a bad person.

Fire blazed within you again, protective and destructive. This was too close. He was getting too close. You had to stop it, now. You had to get away.

You reached up, grabbing his wrist and using the element of surprise to slam him against the wall behind him, pinning his wrist there and then your blade was at his neck, dull light glinting off of it, “Back off. You can’t help me. I’m not some broken doll to add to your ragtag collection.” Your own breathing was ragged, coming in sharp pants as the room started to spin.

The Mandalorian flinched, like you’d hit a nerve and his free hand moved. Bingo.

Yes, you thought, almost begged, Punch me. Fight me, please.

But he didn’t. He just curled his fingers around your wrist and pushed you away, dislodging your knife and knocking you back a few steps. Like you were weak.

You couldn’t do this, he was starting to slip through the cracks that were forming in you. He was looking at you, seeing you. He always had, from the moment you were nothing but hunter and prey, he knew exactly how to get through your intricately woven net of silver-tongued quips and cocky arrogance.

No.

Your voice cracked, echoes of the dark beast’s laughter in your ears “No! Stop pushing me away, stop taking it. Fight me!!” You surged for him again, your hands curling into fists, slamming against the beskar plates again and again.

You didn’t care that it hurt, that it made pain explode across your knuckles.

You liked it, you liked the pain. Deserved that and so much more.

And the Mandalorian… just stood there. He shook his head, just slightly, “No.” He stood there as you hammered your fists against his chest, even when you started to kick him. Just watched as your eyes became glassier, your punches harder but less accurate.

Why wasn’t he fighting you?

Your hazy mind began to overwork, searching for something, anything to provoke him, “Why? You don’t want to fight a girl? Too proud are you?” You slammed your knee into his, pulled at the armour plates, honed your pain and fury into him but he just absorbed it. “You’re as weak as I am, you’re running too. You’re the hypocrite, Mandalorian, not me.” Your words were stilted, made no sense as you spat out words as cruel as you could, just needing to provoke him.

Nothing did. Nothing. There was no noise in the cargo hold but the sounds of the people outside, beeping, the dull thud of your fists, your spiteful words and your own ragged breathing.

And the whispering in your head that had turned into a full-on symphony of bitter taunts and sniping truths. It rose with memories, flashes of your dead parents, the battered bodies of those that had tried to help you, people who had been caught in the cross-hairs of your life. Innocent people that had turned into nothing more than collateral damage.

Blood had started to smear on the beskar, your knuckles splitting open with the repeated impact. You could hear Duru meowing, Grogu gurgling in worry but you didn’t care.

The beast and its army rose, tasting the scent of blood and bringing you visions of the future, of the Mandalorian, dead on the ground. The blood from your fists turned into his own, painting the ground red. Duru, fur soaked in scarlet and Grogu, his tiny little body broken on the floor in a pool.

And above them, you stood, soaked in the blood of these three. Relishing in the pain and torture that you had caused. You could taste their blood.

The room began to spin further, the whispering detonated into a roar and it unleashed a heavy roiling cloud within you. It choked you, squeezed fists around your lungs, clouded your eyes and snuck into your head. It whispered to you, such cruel taunts, sucking out the deepest, most vile thoughts you had about yourself and spat them back out, combined with these visions of the future. It leeched the energy out of you and with a choked sob, your knees gave way.

Duru let out a yowl of concern, springing off of the cargo box.

I can’t do this anymore. I can’t be confident, or strong. I can’t be brave and cocky, I can’t keep throwing myself into every fight, I can’t run anymore. I can’t do this. I can’t-

And then a pair arms caught you.

Mando caught you. He didn’t haul you up against him. He didn’t try and pull you up.

No, he sunk to the floor with you, supporting your weight in his own body, leaning against the wall and letting you collapse against him.

You froze, your body stiffened as he did. This… people didn’t touch you like this. They didn’t put their arms around you unless they were trying to drag you somewhere.

You hadn’t been hugged since you were a child, and yet here you were. The Mandalorian was holding you, but loosely.

Waiting, for your consent. For you to be okay with this.

And as his gloved hand brushed your back, such a tender warmth broke through you, caressed your pain and you couldn’t resist. You sunk into him, the last saps of energy leaving you as tears flooded your cheeks. The armour was hard, digging into you a little bit, but the feeling of just being held was more than enough.

He wrapped his arms around you, coaxing you against his chest. His legs were either side of you, one stretched out on the floor and the other resting up to support your back. Distantly, you were aware of four clawed feet padding over your lap, Duru settling into the space between you and Mando’s arm.

The armour disguised the frantic beating of his heart, your tears and shaking of your body held the trembling of his own hands, but he didn’t mention it. Didn’t mention the fact that this was the first time he had held someone like this that wasn’t the kid… since he was a child himself. He was just as starved of touch as you, even more so because he had no skin-to-skin contact either. He could feel your warmth through the fabric of his clothes that weren’t covered, could feel the weight of you leaning into him.

He didn’t speak, just held you in the dimness of the cargo hold, keeping you together as you fell apart, kept the promise of death away, just as you had done for him.

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#the mandalorian x force sensitive! reader #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #din djarin x force sensitive! reader #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #reader insert #star wars #the mandalorian #pedro pascal #grogu

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amintyworld · 3 years

Text

Child of The Dome (SBI Rust Server)

Platonic Wilbur Soot x Reader and Tommyinnit x Reader. We got Dadbur and Big Broinnit... It’s all about the found family, folks!

A/N: *Gets a SBI Rust fic idea* *Looks up to see its not written and no one is interested in writing it* *Realizing YOU’RE the one who can write it into existence* As a reminder, this is all RP - THE RUST SERVER HAS LORE, GUYS GALS AND NONBINARY PALS! Also, reader is gender neutral. Enjoy! - Minty

TW: Murder, Major Character Death (Kind of, they can respawn?), Religious Themes, Cult-like behavior, Kidnapping, Cannibalism, Cursing, child abuse (?), shooting/gun violence, sickness. (Let me know if I need to tag anything else!)

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Thunder and lightning roared outside of the Dome Church as Wilbur and Tommy sat inside, continuing their sermon to a few others despite the weather conditions. Just a few hours earlier, Sofa had objected when the rain began to leak through the roof, and was promptly locked outside as punishment, which seemed to quickly quiet a few complaints from the others. “Now, my people, you shall not live in fear of the storm for the Dome will protect all who preach and live its word!” Wilbur said, standing at the podium. “Persevere and the Dome will reward you!”

Murmurs of agreement seemed to sweep through the crowd as their feet shivered - bare, wet and cold. They rose to their feet slowly as Iamty began to play the piano and they hummed along with the tune, their spirits beginning to be lifted. Water seeped into their clothes and chills ran down their spine but nonetheless they stood as Seepeekay, the known Minister, began his prepared speech over the music. Tommy walked through the aisle, holding out a basket for donations as the churchgoers threw whatever they could think to offer inside.

Suddenly a loud knock came from the door - panicked and urgent.

Wilbur grumbled at the interruption, weaving his way through the crowd and opening the door. “Sofa, you have to relearn the Dome’s ways before you can-'' Words died on his lips as Sophie looked to Wilbur worried, a small bundle in her arms. The baby’s cries blended with the thunder and lightning from above, and Wilbur’s eyes scanned the child’s in curiosity.

“Wilbur, I found them outside near the Dome, they’re freezing cold I dunno what to-!” Wilbur’s mind whirred as it began to put the pieces together, frozen in place and not knowing exactly what to do next. Tommy rushed up next to Wilbur, asking what was going on until his gaze landed on the baby as well. “...Wilbur?”

At this, Wilbur’s body quickly snapped to attention, taking the child from Sophie and turning, closing the door shut behind him and keeping Sophie outside. The baby’s eyes glimmered in the light of the torches, their hair a matted and muddy mess padded flat in a circular shape - a dome like shape, if you will. Slowly, he raised his hand to caress the child’s cheek, a fondness beginning to grow in his heart as their cries slowed to a stop, looking up to him in wonder. A loving smile stretched across his face as he booped their nose, sending them into a fit of laughter. Wilbur’s heart couldn’t help but begin to melt at the baby’s smile. He held them close, his own body warmth beginning to warm their small freezing body.

“The storm! It’s stopping!” Pebble shouted as he looked outside, noticing the sun begin to poke through the clouds as the raindrops began to slow.

“Messiah, I believe I have witnessed a miracle today.” Wilbur called as everyone turned to look at him. “This child… this child has stopped the storm, they have stopped the storm for they are a child of the Dome itself. The Dome has spared us for helping one of its own.” Wilbur held up the baby for the congregation to see. “This baby is a miracle and a blessing, a gift of the Dome to us, a gift we must not take lightly.”

“What are we going to do with it?” Scott asked. “Can we- should we just... take them back to the Dome?”

Wilbur couldn’t help the pang of selfishness that came over him at the suggestion. “Take the child back? Slop, the great Dome does not make a mistake. It has given us great gifts and now it’s given us this baby, and you want to rid yourself of them? Shameful! We shall embrace this opportunity, this gift. We’ll make them part of our great family.” Wilbur said, going back to the podium and cradling the child close in his arms. “Since I found them, I’ll look after them.” He moved to press his forehead against the baby’s as the rest of the church looked on in interest. “I dub thee… Dirt.” Wilbur smiled as the congregation erupted in applause.

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Tommy at first objected to adding another person in their already cramped house, but eventually, though he wouldn’t admit it, he became attached to the kid as the months passed. On a particular cold winter day, your crib was stationed by the fireplace, Wilbur out gathering food and supplies. Tommy had one mission and one mission only - to teach you your first swear.

“Come on, it’s not hard. Just say ‘fuck’. You can do it.” Tommy encouraged as you sat in your crib and looked at him, head tilted slightly in confusion. Your small hands reached out toward him.

“Twoh-towh!” You babbled with a smile, and Tommy’s heart melted at the nickname as he sighed fondly.

“Yeah, Tom-Tom.” He agreed, as you reached toward him, wanting to be let out as he carefully picked you up and held you in his arms. Your hands found their way into his hair as they pulled and played with it, squealing happily. “You really like my hair, don’t you?” He asked, amused until you pulled a bit too hard, making the teenager wince in pain, quickly bringing you back down to sit in his lap. “Okay, you played with my hair for a little while, can you say ‘fuck’ now?” You looked confused, moving to pick up a small pebble on the ground instead. “Dirt, I know you can do it, okay?” He moved you so you sat facing him again, and you huffed slightly at the loss of your pebble. “Say ‘fuck’. Like this: ‘ffff-uck’.” He said slower, as if that could possibly do anything to help. Your head tilted again, confused at why Tommy looked so disgruntled at his wasted efforts. He sighed in defeat, moving to put you back in your crib again.

Anger bubbled inside your chest - you didn’t want to be put back in the crib, you wanted to play. “F...FWOA!” You shouted, making Tommy’s eyes glimmer with hope.

“That’s closer, come on, you can do it, Dirt-!” He said, pausing and holding you in mid-air.

Beginning to put the pieces together, you realized that saying the word will keep you from being put back in the crib. Determined, your mind whirred as it looked to Tommy in curiosity. “Fwok…?”

“Almost there, you almost got it…” Tommy encouraged. “Say ‘fuck’.”

“Fffwok, Fuok… fuck!” You managed after a few tries, and Tommy’s eyes brightened with glee.

“Yes, Dirt. Fuck.”

“Fuck!” You repeated, smiling as Tommy once again smiled, bringing you back to the floor. “Fuck.”

The excitement of the exchange slowly made you grow tired as Tommy shifted, leaning against the wall as you began to drift off against his chest, a tiny fistful of his shirt in your hand. Snow began to fall outside, quickly turning into a snowstorm. Feeling tired and not wanting to disturb the sleeping being on his stomach, Tommy slowly began to drift off, leaning against the wall. Only an hour later Wilbur burst into the scene, firmly closing the door behind himself and carrying three large bundles of wood. He looked around, pulling off the scarf around his face and internally awwing at the sight - Big Brother Tommy, who would have thought? Tommy’s hands never moved from supporting you against his chest, worried about you falling over. Not wanting to disturb the siblings, he quietly shed his snow-covered gear, grabbing a blanket and pulling it up around Tommy’s sleeping form, ruffling his hair slightly and carefully talking you from Tommy’s grasp. Your Dad quickly settled you back in your crib, giving your forehead a soft kiss.

“Goodnight, you two.”

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You slowly awoke in the warm arms of someone, outside in the snow, and your three-year-old body shivered. Where was Dad? Dad always was there, if not Tommy, so where was he? You looked up to see a hooded figure with jet black hair and blue eyes. Whoever it was, that was not Dad or Tom-Tom, and you began to cry, getting scared and wanting to see them again. Tears ran down your cheeks as the hooded teenager looked panicked. “Shh, shh… please, you’ve gotta be quiet-”

“WA-BA!” You cried, failing your body as you wailed, crying more.

“Uh, I…” He said, not exactly knowing how to handle the situation. “It’s okay, it’s okay! I know Wilbur, I know your Dad, okay? I’m… I’m taking you right to him, just please stop crying…” He begged. Your body shivered as you sniffled, and let out a sneeze. “Dammit, I told you to stop crying…” He cursed, pulling you closer to his cloak to keep you warm. “Just hold tight, we’re almost there.”

“Wa-ba... “ You sniffed, and the teen’s face shifted into one of… guilt?

“Fucking christ Wilbur what are you doing with a kid-?!” He mumbled to himself, frustrated. “All I wanted to do was check inside and leave, but no.. of fucking course you have a kid-!” You quickly approached a large house of sorts as your captor took a deep breath in front of the door, looking down at you. “Hey, it’s okay. If it goes well, you won’t feel any pain.” He nervously smiled, before looking into your eyes as the smile quickly fell. “Don’t look at me like that, okay? It’s not exactly like I have much of a choice here. If I didn’t return with you, they’d…” He trailed off, before slightly shaking his head of thoughts, pushing the door open and stepping inside. After a few tries, he firmly pulled the door shut, carrying you closer inside and next to a small fireplace that dimly lit the room. “Guys, I’m back. I got the kid.”

Your eyes filled with fear as two figures seemingly appeared from the shadows, smiling and wide-eyed. You quickly drove your face to hide in your captor’s cloak. One with blonde hair and brown eyes reached out toward you slowly, making you retreat further into your captor’s cloaked embrace. “I can’t believe the rumors are true.” The other spoke - much shorter than the other two members, with brown hair and chocolate brown eyes, sporting a green poncho. “The famous ‘Child of the Dome’.” He turned to your cloaked captor. “Much trouble with the wall, Krinios?”

“No, that special ax you gave me worked like a charm,” Krinios replied. Your eyes were fixated on the shorter man’s, noticing how similar to Tommy he looked - they were probably the same age - but something wasn’t right with his eyes. They looked cold and inviting, the light went from where it once had brought warmth and life to the teen - different from the curious scheming brightness of Tommy’s, or how your Dad’s eyes seemed to fill with laughter and love all the time. You didn’t like any of this one bit, you wanted to be back home in Wilbur’s embrace as he’d hum a lullaby, rocking you back and forth to get you to sleep. Not in this room filled with hungry stares and eyes locked onto your body like a wolf’s.

“Come on, little one… I just want to play a game.” The blond one ushered, and you shook your head ‘no’ violently, clinging onto Krinios’s arm tightly, not daring to let go.

“What’s… what’s going on here?” The shorter one asked, gesturing to the scene. “Did they imprint on you or something?”

“Look - I dunno Tubbo,” Krinios admitted, holding up his hands in a sort of surrender. “Maybe they got sick in the cold, they were crying a lot.”

“And you didn’t stuff a sock in their mouth?” The blonde one’s eyes stared down at Krinios’s intently. “I told you we needed the little shit quiet, what if someone heard you?!”

“It’s a baby, Hycei!” Krinios snapped, and Hycei’s mouth turned into a thin line.

“Good god, you feel sympathetic for it…” The blonde groaned before snatching you up forcefully as you let out a wail, grabbing for Krinios desperately. “This is the only way to send a clear message to that freak of a cult that calls itself a church, not to mention Wilbur. We show them what happens when they decide to fuck with us. If we don’t get even now they’ll just keep thinking they can get away with doing whatever they want to us because we won’t fight back.”

“It’s an eye for an eye, Krinios - for all the times they’ve killed us, taken our stuff… they’re bullies, Krinios. Bullies that won’t stop unless we fight back, and Fort Kickass isn’t cowards. Sometimes when you’re the bad guy, Krinios, the only way to fight fire is with fire. Besides,” Tubbo asked, his lips curling in a smile as he unsheathed his knife. “You wanted to try flesh right off the bone, right?” As Tubbo came toward you, you squirmed and tried to wail before Hycei clapped a hand over your mouth to muffle your sound.

“Wait… wait wait wait!” Krinios snapped to action as he thickly swallowed, getting between you and the knife. “What if the kid’s so sick, it affects the flesh? What if we get sick from it?” Tubbo’s cold eyes shifted from his friend’s to the knife in his hand. “I think we should just give it a day or two, you know… maybe this one isn’t the one to try out the new style of flesh thing. Maybe we shouldn’t change perfection, you know what I’m saying?”

“We’ve eaten rotten flesh, I think we’ll be immune to whatever they might have.” Tubbo responded, rolling his eyes. “Don’t forget that those Dome People killed you in cold blood.”

“Aren’t we doing the same thing?” He asked, as the other two’s faces filled with irritation, getting annoyed.

“We’re surviving, Krinios. If you haven’t noticed because of our ‘reputation’ on this server I haven’t eaten in days. I’m hungry.” Hycei said coldly. “Now isn’t the time to be taking the moral high road - do you want to not starve to death?!”

As Krinios hesitated, Tubbo shoved him aside as he approached. “We don’t have time for this.” He huffed, pulling your arm roughly and looking to Hycei. “Hold ‘em still.” You became hysterical, tears flowing freely down your face in panic and wanting to be as far away from that sharp object as possible. As it pressed down and began to cut you let out a shriek in agony as blood and pain overwhelmed your senses, and you bit down on Hycei’s hand, making them retract it and nearly drop you in the process.

He looked pissed. “Why you little-!” Within seconds, pain once again blossomed in your head, your vision swimming with tears. You wanted Dad, you wanted Tom-Tom, you wanted the pain to go away… Whimpering in pain, you curled in on yourself. Your prayers seemed to be quickly answered as the door burst open with two very ticked-off family members you recognized instantly. Wilbur pointed his gun directly at Tubbo’s head as the room began to build with tension, the two leaders just staring at each other.

“Wilbur.” Tubbo said cooly, putting his bloodied knife back in its sheath.

“Tubbo.” Wilbur growled through his teeth. “Where are they? Where’s Dirt?!”

“Oh, is that what you decided to call them?” Tubbo asked, crossing his arms. “Or did your Dome God decide on it?”

“You’ve crossed the fucking line, Tubbo.” Tommy growled, his ax at the ready. “Dirt didn’t do jack shit to you.”

“Oh, I disagree.” Tubbo spat. “Being a part of your sick cult is enough for me. Even so, you can’t blame a leader trying to feed his people, can you? That’s all this is - survival of the fittest. Getting revenge on both of you, well… that’s just a bonus.”

“You’re a sick freak.”

“You’re a scamming cultist.” Tubbo retorted, moving to take you from Hycei’s arms. “Question is, who’s worse?”

“Wa-Ba…” You sniffled as Wilbur moved closer, before Tubbo quickly pressed his knife up against your throat.

“Not another step.” Seeing this, Tubbo pointed his gun at Tubbo’s head, though the cannibal leader seemed unphased. “Kill me and I’ll kill them as soon as the bullet leaves the muzzle.”

“Bulllshit.” Tommy angrily shouted, moving forward next to Wil.

“Do you really want to take that risk?”

Wilbur breathed as his mind whirred to try to think of some kind of solution, his gun trained on Tubbo. “Tommy, get ready.”

“What’s it gonna be, Wilbur Soot?”

Quickly, he shot Tubbo in the leg, making him fall and lose his grip on you as Tommy rushed forward, snatching you up and kicking Tubbo in the face as he tried to grab you back. Hycei, on the other hand, rushed toward Wilbur, as the two fought and eventually Wilbur shot him in the arm, then quickly turned to train his gun at Krinios who held up his hands in surrender. When Tommy saw your injuries it broke his heart as he ripped off a bit of cloth and wrapped it around your arm wound temporarily, wrapping your body in warm blankets. He dried your tears as he rushed back towards Wilbur. “It’s okay, it’s okay…”

“You got what you wanted, just leave.” Krinios begged as Wilbur’s gun stayed trained on him. Wilbur, keeping his eyes on the man in front of him, handed the gun to Tommy as Tommy handed you off to your Dad, who carefully ran his hand through your hair, bringing you close and not planning on letting you out of his arms any time soon.

“You scared me, oh god I thought I lost you…” Wilbur whispered. “It’s okay, it’s all okay now, I’m right here, I’m right here. Shh…” Your hands gripped his shirt and you buried your face in it, feeling comforted by his familiar scent of pine and burnt oak. Your body shook with fear as Wilbur ran his hand along your back in comfort as he turned toward the door. His gentle voice turned cold as he looked toward Tommy, his gun still trained on Krinios. Anger and sadness overwhelmed his heart as he looked upon the one who took you away from him, who tried to take you to your death. Vengeance never tasted so sweet. “Kill him.”

Krinios’s eyes widened. “Wait, wait wait let’s talk about this-!”

Tommy didn’t hesitate as Krinios’s body slumped to the floor as the two made their way back toward the entrance of Fort Kickass. Tubbo sat against the wall, breathing heavily from the pain, glaring at both of them. “This isn’t over.”

“You said you wanted to feed your people, I believe I just provided you with food.” Wilbur shot behind him as he walked toward the entrance. “As for Dirt, if you so much as lay a finger on them I won’t hesitate to take all of you out for good. I wonder who will revive you then.” His eyes glanced over the cannibal leader, making sure Tubbo knew he wasn’t bluffing. “Goodbye, Tubbo.”

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aggressive-positivity-network · 3 years

Note

Okay, so you said I could send an ask for headcanons about the childhoods of some specific merc(s)... I think I would really like to read your headcanons about Soldier’s and Engineer’s childhood :)

Thanks in advance and I hope your well.

Ooooh…I’ve been waiting for this! And thank you for being specific and not just saying “the rest of them.” Sometimes I get overwhelmed with nine specific mercs to write for. Your specifics are much appreciated.

****************

Soldier:

Soldier doesn’t talk very much about his childhood - whether it’s because something happened or he just doesn’t remember it, no one can tell. It’s nowhere in his file, either…he refused to do anything except tell fantastic tales of a fictional youth.

However, in a rare streak of almost lucidity, he spouted off the entirety of his younger years, much to the team’s surprise. Usually, if anyone asked directly, he changed the subject.

But now he described everything in vivid detail. And, with a bit of research from Miss Pauling, everything fell into place.

Apparently he had been born in a small military town in Georgia. His father was overseas, leaving he and his mother alone in their small yellow house.

In order to make ends meet, his mother worked at a nearby factory, mostly leaving Soldier to fend for himself and the house.

“Can you be a big, strong soldier like daddy for me?”

Soldier would always agree, finding his own food, his own entertainment, and his own friends. No matter what happened, he never bothered his mom. If anything, his job was to protect her.

That’s why, when his stomach started hurting and his arms and legs ached, he said nothing about it.

When he forgot the chores he was supposed to do and even the names of his friends, he didn’t bring it up.

When he felt tired all the time and some days could barely get out of bed, he just chalked it up to laziness like his mother did.

It turns out the factory they were next to was polluting the water next to the house with dangerous amounts of lead, which soon overcame Soldier’s immune system of steel.

He could barely remember anything anymore, and he became more and more distraught every day. Sometimes he would forget where he was and run outside, then get lost in the woods, only coming back once he remembered where he was supposed to be.

Soldier began to wear one of his father’s old helmets after his mom commented on his red eyes and the dark circles around them. He didn’t want to worry her. Besides, it helped bring back a few memories if he ever got lost again.

Finally, it got to the point where he didn’t even remember his mother, or his promise to her. He began to wander farther and farther away from home.

One day, he didn’t come back at all.

Out in the world with not a single memory to his name, Soldier wandered far and wide. He usually slept in barns and old, abandoned houses, cut off from most people.

Occasionally, he would find a family that wanted to “raise him as their own,” only to turn him away after finding him too difficult to care for.

He had frequent nightmares, ate little due to his unresolved stomach issues, and could barely walk ten feet without forgetting where he was going.

If he accidentally wandered into the same house twice, he would be chased out with either a broom or a gun - usually the latter.

He became “the demon child” in some counties, and “g*psy kid” in others, due to his long, unkempt hair, hidden eyes, and odd habits.

It even got to the point where Soldier couldn’t sleep on anyone’s property because he would be actively fought off like a wolf or a bear.

His only pleasure was an old movie theater that, as he recovered from his lead poisoning, remembered the location of and frequently snuck into.

The only thing that played were romance movies - which, like many children, Soldier hated - and war movies, which he watched over and over again with starving eyes.

Because of these movies, a single memory from his mother’s house came to him. A woman, tall and muscular from hard labor, giving him a shiny badge to hold, asking him to be a strong soldier like his father.

And thus began his life-long dream of becoming a military officer.

He trained according to what he knew from the films…which was mostly running, doing jumping jacks, and occasionally rolling around in the mud.

This only served to distance him further from his fellow human beings, but he didn’t care. Soldier had a mission, and he was going to do it well.

But the biggest change was his hair.

He had started cutting it off with sharpened rocks, but he was always saving up coins he found for a “proper army cut.”

Finally, he had quite the collection in a dirty mason jar, and marched into the barber shop in his town to ask for a haircut.

The manager was appalled, and at first refused, but Soldier stood his ground.

“Civilian, I’ll have you know that by denying a soldier with a haircut, you are denying America one of its best fighters! I can’t curdle the enemy’s blood looking like a hippie!”

After a short yelling match that, of course, Soldier won, the manager decided it would be in his best interest to comply.

He walked out of that shop with no hair on his head, but a huge grin on his face. Next stop, the ranks.

Soldier went from draft office to draft office, applying for and being denied entrance to the army for his obvious lack of mental stability.

This is when the personal retelling ended, since Soldier became very upset by the memory of his recruitment failures, but Miss Pauling concluded that he just bounced from state to state until Mann Co. found him, quote, “sitting in an alleyway, eating army draft paperwork while sobbing uncontrollably.”

Engineer:

Engineer also never really talks about his childhood, but both Medic and Spy (Spy knows everything about everyone on the team) know that’s for a good reason.

He grew up in a trailer community near an almost ghost town in Texas.

His father was an abusive car mechanic with a mean streak a mile wide and a shop full of failed inventions. His mother wasn’t any better - she was bitter and reclusive, only really coming out of her room to pick a fight with her husband.

However, what Engie lacked in family, he more than made up for in friends.

He had a rag-tag, Rugrats-esque team of pals from all walks of life: Rhapsody, the daughter of a struggling porn star; Tom, the son of two farmers wiped out by blight; Cici, an adopted girl that could barely walk into her trailer without a black eye and a string of slurs; Quinn, the nervous child of a single mother that serves as guidance to the other kids; And Fred, who didn’t seem to have any family, but had become a greaser big brother to all of them.

Together, they explored the desert near the trailer park, pooled their resources to feed and support each other, and used their individual strengths to get through each day.

Engineer, whom everyone affectionately called “Big Dell,” snuck parts from his dad’s workshop for his own creations.

By the time he was twelve, he could make a small, running engine for the soapbox cars his friends frequently raced.

No toy, piece of clothing, glasses, or tool was out of his line of expertise.

One day, though, upon finding that some of his parts were missing, Engineer’s dad gave him a terrible beating that broke a few of his fingers and left a huge gash near his eye.

Since then, he refused to fix, make, or even touch a tool.

He wouldn’t tell anyone what happened, but they could make a pretty good guess, since they knew where the scraps and parts had come from.

The whole group was furious with Engineer’s dad - their Big Dell was funny, smart, and was more loving than every family member they had combined. Even Quinn was red in the face.

They wanted to break into his dad’s workshop and destroy all of his inventions, just to teach him a lesson, but they knew Engineer would take the fall for it.

Instead, they rummaged through trash cans, searched their toy chests, and looked under their trailers to find things Engineer could use.

They waited until his birthday to unveil the massive pile of supplies they had stowed away.

Engineer immediately dropped to his knees and began to cry, and everyone else dogpiled him for a huge hug.

As the creme de la creme, they gave him a pair of welding goggles - the same welding goggles he wears to this day, having modified them so they still fit his growing body.

With his healed fingers and renewed spirit, he made each of them a gift: a toy car for Rhapsody, a skull ring for Fred, a full set of candle wax crayons for Cici, a chewable necklace for Quinn so they wouldn’t chew on their collar, and a mini-planter for Tom.

But Engineer was given the greatest gift - confidence in his own abilities and that he can be and was appreciated for more than his services.

This gave him the drive to build bigger and better things, which his friends happily assisted in creating.

Engie’s best memories are with that motley crew of scrawny, beaten-up kids.

But, as he became a teenager, the abuse grew worse by the day.

He was often kept in his dad’s garage to fix cars in sweltering heat and with nothing to show for his work except threats of what would happen if a customer complained.

His mother finally grew bitter enough to pick on him, wondering aloud and pointedly if she had made a mistake by having him, then immediately contradict herself by wailing in his arms about how she’s the most awful mother in the world, and how she would be gone soon, and then nobody would have to deal with her anymore.

Engie grew more and more distant from his friends as they either moved out, ran away, or, in Rhapsody’s case, died.

He thought of just shutting the garage door and turning on a car a couple times, but he would always return to his memories of the hidden cave of goodies his friends had collected or the many inventions they had helped him build.

It just wasn’t worth it.

On a night when his depression and self-doubt was especially bad, he decided to build a personal invention for the first time in years - a small, robotic chicken made out of bent gears and empty oil cans.

He worked on it for a few weeks, but made the mistake of leaving it on a work table once it was finished.

Engie came to work the next morning with his dad ready to chew him out. But, before any finger could be lifted against his son, he was interrupted by a sweet older couple that was having their tires replaced.

“Now, Ethan, ain’t that just the cutest thing you’ve ever seen in your life?”

“Hm?”

“That there chicken statue over there! It looks like it could very well get up and start peckin’ for worms, don’tcha think?”

Engie looked at the couple, then at his dad, then at his chicken. He slowly lifted it from the table and turned the key.

It started to slowly lean forward, then took a few steps on it’s long, spring-loaded legs. The neck went down, and the chicken’s rusty beak began to scrape at the pavement.

Now he had the husband’s attention.

“Didja build that yourself, son, or did your daddy help ya?”

Engineer looked at his dad for a split second before answering.

“My own sweat ‘n blood, sir. My daddy says I should stop wastin’ time on ugly thing-a-ma-jigs an’ put my hands to somethin’ worth doin’.”

The man smiled. “Well, this ‘ugly thing-a-ma-jig’ shows real skill. We could use somebody like you, once we train you up a bit.”

“Now hold on a damn - !” his father interjected, but was silenced with a cold stare.

“We’ll put ya through a state-of-the-art school, then put ya straight inta the work force. You can build whatever you like…and you’ll have a lot better materials than rusty tin. Whaddaya say, son?”

Engineer just nodded, and the man grabbed his hand and shook it.

“We’ll keep in touch.”

Engineer left that trailer park at age seventeen, leaving his fuming father and drunken mother behind.

He only stopped to visit Rhapsody’s grave before embarking on his new life.

There is still a stone plate with a message carved into it next to the headstone. If you brush off the leaves and dig out the moss, you can see Engie’s parting words:

“A friendship with you and the rest of the gang is the greatest thing I ever built. -Big Dell”

#tf2 #tf2 fandom #tf2 ask blog #tf2 headcanon #tf2 headcanons #tf2 engineer #engineer tf2 #tf2 solly #send asks #ask blog #headcanon requests #lovely anon #thanks anon #thanks for the ask

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shushiyuii · 3 years

Note

Giant!Ghostbur and tiny!Tommy fluff pls? handheld feels and cuddles will make me melt

I hope this is close enough! I actually really enjoyed writing this dwjndjadnd so thank you! I hope you enjoy it! Hope you don't mind i added some angst to it to make the climatic fluff more appealing :3

Warning: Description of injury, mention of character death and swearing

Words: 1.5K

Another day passed by. Another day of the same routine, a pattern that barely ever changes. So many explosions, he wasn’t sure how he was still coping or still had his hearing despite the damage done, the most he only got were burn scars.

It was the same cycle of Dream exploding his things, he’s tried so many different things to stop this endless cycle, yet nothing works. He’s Dream’s puppet and Dream’s the puppeteer, the manipulator, the one who pulls all his strings, the one who knows how he ticks.

He’s absolutely sick of it, the same shit over and over and over again! His eyebrows furrowed in anger, his eyes fighting back tears, his fists clenched so tightly his knuckles turned white.

He held onto the coat that was once his brothers, torn at places, patches of different fabric stitched onto it so that it doesn’t fall apart, it was really the only thing he had left of him after his death.

He laid in Logstedshire, or what used to be of Logstedshire, the only remaining thing of the place was a burnt chest that barely functioned and a half-burnt wall of logs, the only thing that served as ‘shelter’ as his tent was recently caught up in one of Dream’s explosions.

Built by what he wished was his brother, but merely just some sort of remnant that wasn’t really Wilbur, he loved Ghostbur, truly but he couldn’t help but grieve about what used to be, L’manburg, Pogtopia, His family, Friends, Home, everything.

Speaking of which, he hadn’t seen any visitors in a long while, not even Dream had shown up that day which made him question if something had happened? But knowing Dream he’d be completely fine, Dream was Dream, after all, he despised the man, he really couldn't care less.

He sighed as he thought back on his situation, no materials nor food. It didn’t that it was the dead of night, the only means of defence being a stone axe, at least he’d be able to hit hard with it, he just hoped it would last the night as the blade was slightly dull and handle loose. He knew that if he wanted to live, he couldn’t sleep.

He stood up, wincing from the pain coming from his back. He tried to soothe it with a quick rub but cringed as it didn’t work. Instead, he picked up his axe and made began his battle to defend the base from any mobs that dare come near.

He was actually surprised at how well he was handling himself in battle at the moment, killing multiple zombies and spiders, luckily no skeletons or creepers yet. It was fairly into the night so there was hope he’d make it, oh how he could’ve been more wrong.

Perhaps he jinxed himself at some point during his train of thoughts? Because as he was distracted by a couple more zombies, an arrow pierced his shoulder, luckily not deep but it did its damage fairly well with the injuries already on his body. He swung his axe, finally slaying the zombie in his way.

He turned his attention towards the skeleton and practically tackling it, making it drop its bow and falling to the ground, he raised the axe as high as he could, despite the arrow paining him and used as much strength as he could to bash it through the skull, efficiently killing it. A technique Techno had taught him a while back in Pogtopia.

He panted as he tried to get air into his lungs, his body exhausted with how many he’s killed, screw that thought about making it, there was barely a chance now. The sound of undead groaning caught his attention, making him swing back into battle. He managed to slay the two zombies but with the cost of losing his axe.

His head pounded and body ached, he could barely focus on his surroundings, vision blurring and barely hearing the sounds of the night, regrettably since those were practically the main senses he needed right now to survive, he knew he couldn’t get far with his bloodied shoulder.

Then, there was then a ‘hissssss~’ sound coming from behind, he immediately looked back to see a creeper about to explode, there was no time to run as he braced for impact, screaming his lungs out.

There was a swift movement, as he no longer felt the ground, he heard the creeper explode, he thought the creeper had flown him into the air but that wasn’t the case when he heard the words “Tommy?- A-are you okay?”. His eyes opened to see he was in the tight yet gentle fist of Ghostbur, seemed he arrived in the nick of time.

He felt uncomfortable with the arrow in his shoulder shifting, he tried to move his body and stop it but instead screamed again in pain as it went deeper into his shoulder. Ghostbur’s hand rotated into a gentle hold, rather than a fist to allow Tommy more freedom and to get a closer look at him.

He cringed in worry as he saw the shoulder, “Oh crap- Toms-“, “I-I’m fine Ghostbur, no worries. Nothing I’m not used to”. He looked into the ghosts’ eyes to show his sincerity, but it didn’t seem to ease the giant ghost’s worries instead his eyebrows furrowed even more.

“Tommy you aren’t okay! Don’t lie! You know I hate it when people lie!”. He sighed, “Ghostbur-“. “That’s enough”. The ghost said sternly, quite the difference in tone from his usually happy one not that long ago. In fact, the ghost himself looked quite pissed off.

His world shifted as Ghostbur had moved his hand towards his chest, covering Tommy protectively. He could still see the floor as Ghostbur was slightly transparent and the next thing he saw shocked him.

Ghostbur was slaying the incoming mobs by stomping on them. It reminded Tommy of how protective Wilbur used to be when he was alive, it seems Ghostbur still had that small side of Wilbur in him, it honestly made him kind of happy.

Soon, the mobs went running away, cowering as they realised, they wouldn’t be able to hurt the two of them. After a moment’s peace, the ghost sighed as Tommy was once again moved but instead this time was in front of the ghost’s face.

“Tommy, why didn’t you tell me you were in danger? I would’ve come as soon as possible…”, “I- Ghostbur, I didn’t think you’d really do anything like- like that” He pointed towards the ground. “That’s only with people Toms, I- You know Alivebur promised to protect you right? I would’ve-”.

“YOU’RE NOT WILBUR!”. He yelled out of frustration but quickly slapped his mouth shut after he’d said it “Sorry- Ghostbur- Really-“. “It’s fine, I know what you mean”.

The ghost gave him a gentle smile, “We both know I’m not Alivebur, but I still have some of his memories, I remember the promise he made you back in the caravan to protect you from anything like a big brother, I know I’m not him but I still want to make up for Alivebur’s mistakes, that even includes his promises!”.

“I- Hey Ghostbur”, “Yeah?”, “Can we get out of here? Please? I hate this, I hate this place, I hate Dream I-“. “Shh- It’s okay”. The ghost shushed from, stopping him from carrying on his rant as he felt tears flowing down his face, he held a hand up to it.

He realised that his tears were falling onto the ghost’s hand and quickly began to wipe them away, not wanting to hurt the ghost but more and more just kept coming. He was practically sobbing.

“Shh- Shh, It’s okay Toms”. There was a rubbing at his back, “T-the tears will-“, “Shh just let it all out”. The ghost brought him closer to his face, to the point where he could hug the ghosts nose. He gladly accepted the offer by embracing his nose as much as he could, sobbing his eyes out.

They sat there for a while, his ghostly brother reassuring just like Wilbur once did, maybe Ghostbur wasn’t as bad as he thought.

“I’m sorry to break the moment Toms, but your shoulder will be getting worse if we down treat it anytime soon.”. “R-right, do we even have the supplies though?”. “I brought some since I hadn’t seen you by your- well used to be a tent, I figured you might’ve been hurt”.

Ghostbur sat down on the ground, placing Tommy on his lap as he went to search for the supplies. Once found, instead of letting Tommy take care of it himself, he took it into his own hands by carefully removing the arrow, much to Tommy’s dismay and gave the boy a healing potion and wrapping the wound accordingly with success.

He looked at Tommy’s posture as it was slumped, usually, it was quite tall as he wanted to seem superior to anyone else, so he gently picked up the boy and brought the boy to his chest. Even without a body, Ghostbur still gave off warmth, even without a heartbeat, his chest still moved like Wilbur’s. And with that Tommy fell asleep as the ghost hummed the familiar tune of L’manburg’s theme.

#mcyt g/t #mcytg/t #dsmp g/t #giant!ghostbur #giant!wilbur #tiny!tommy #shushi's writings

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sariahsue · 3 years

Text

A Cat of Their Own - Ch 1

Sabine checked her phone again in anxiety. There hadn't been an akuma attack in the last two days, which meant that one would begin any second. She'd been telling herself that every few minutes since breakfast. Tom was playing video games with Marinette, hunched forward over his controller. He was supposed to be getting information out of her, but it didn't look like he was trying too hard. Sabine watched them while she stirred the soup. Steam rose off the surface in faint curls and twists.

The phone screen lit up, and she grabbed it. An emergency alert. An akuma had been spotted. Civilians were advised to shelter in place until Ladybug and Cat Noir had dealt with the problem.

It was the same message that she'd read dozens of times (and ignored more often than that), but now it made her mind numb with fear. But she had to go through with their plan.

"Oh, there's another akuma attack." Her voice sounded hollow and forced. To her dismay, Marinette immediately paused her game and turned around, eyebrows pinched with concern.

"Where is it?"

"Parc Montsouris," Sabine said. "I just got the text."

Marinette looked out the window, her face steely, game controller forgotten next to her. Tom and Sabine shared a worried glance.

"Dinner won't be ready for another half hour," Sabine said, then took a deep breath to keep her voice from shaking. This was the most important stage of the plan. "Did you finish all your homework?" Please. Please, say yes.

"Oh, uh, now that you mention it, I do remember that I forgot to do something." Marinette waved goodbye quickly, then bolted up her stairs, letting the trapdoor thump loudly behind her. Sabine came to sit next to Tom, soup completely abandoned.

"It's looking likely," he said. Sabine could only nod. Her fingers were cold, and she flexed them to try to bring life back to them, but it didn't help. Her whole body felt numb, and she wondered if she would actually go into shock.

Tom reached for the remote and switched to the news. Cat Noir flitted across the screen, fighting a giant frog monster by himself. He jumped off window ledges and rolled across the empty street to avoid a steady stream of some type of red projectile.

The camera was far away, and the angle was bad so it was difficult to tell, but he looked like a teenager himself. He was thin and lanky, like he was in the middle of a growth spurt.

"We could still be wrong," Tom said.

Nod.

Ladybug swung into view amid scattered applause. Cat Noir dodged a jet of steaming red goo that shot out of the akuma's wide mouth and shouted hello to his partner. She waved back, her cheerfulness jarring against the backdrop of the fight and Sabine's own dread.

"Do you want me to check?" Tom asked.

She couldn't even nod. The screen had her transfixed. She barely registered the shift of the sofa and the creak of the floorboards under his footsteps.

Tom reached the top of the stairs. "Marinette?" No answer. He knocked on the trapdoor, and it sounded hollow. "Marinette?"

Sabine closed her eyes as the trapdoor creaked open and Tom's footsteps disappeared into their daughter's room.

Faint screams and gasps from the television filled the room while Sabine sat and waited, holding her breath. She didn't even hear Tom come back down.

"She's not there," he said, sitting down next to her and grabbing her hand. "And the skylight's propped open."

She squeezed back tightly. "That basically confirms it," Sabine finally said. "Our daughter is Ladybug."

Tom sighed. "Yeah."

On the screen, reporters were running for shelter, hiding behind cars and in recessed doorways, Cat Noir was yelling at civilians to stay out of the way, and bright red puddles sizzled on the cracked pavement.

"What are we going to do?" Sabine asked. "How did this even happen?"

The questions she wanted to ask were why Marinette had never told them, and how could they have not noticed for so long? How was Sabine supposed to keep her own child safe?

The camera shook as the crew set up again, much farther away, but Sabine wished they could do one closeup shot of Ladybug's face. Maybe they'd made a mistake. One good look at her face, and Sabine would be able to prove herself wrong about the superheroine's identity.

The battle had looked fine up close, but from a distance it didn't look like it was going well. The super duo was on the defensive and having a hard time avoiding the frog's goo. The akuma had covered most of the available surfaces already, so they had fewer and fewer places to safely land. Ladybug hung from a lamppost. Cat Noir was just above her, perched on top of the light her yoyo was connected to.

The cameraman crept closer and closer, finally stopping when he was a mere twenty feet from the fight, and Ladybug yelled at him. Sabine squinted at the television, but the image changed too fast, focusing instead on the monster. It was a little smaller than a car. Its muscles rippled as it stalked toward the two heroes.

"We should turn this off," Tom said, though he made no move for the remote. "She's going to be fine."

"No, I need to watch."

They flinched and gasped for the next few minutes, and Sabine shrieked when Ladybug slipped and got hit in the chest. It knocked her to the ground, but she sprung back up before Cat Noir could reach her, even though he ran at top speed, ignoring the spray aimed for him and almost getting hit himself.

"You okay?" he asked.

"Fine just... Ugh! Gross!"

"You could say you're in a sticky situation," Cat Noir said, before laughing loudly at his own joke and his partner's predicament. Sabine's heart was still pounding as she clamped down on Tom's hand.

Ladybug's face tightened with the effort of holding in her laughter, then scooped a bunch of the stuff off her stomach and reached to touch him. Thick strands of it hung off her fingers.

"Oh no, not slime!" Cat Noir jumped back, dodging both Ladybug and the akuma, who shot another mouthful at them. "Slime! Whatever will I do?"

Tom pulled Sabine closer. "Well, it doesn't look like a very dangerous one."

She was sure he was trying to reassure himself as much as her, but she wasn't having any of it. "They should be taking this threat seriously," she said. "If they're overconfident..." She couldn't bring herself to finish the sentence, so it hung in the room along with her dread.

Sabine was unfortunately right to worry. The frog reared back on its hind legs and came down on the street so hard it cracked the pavement, letting out a wide stream of the goo. Ladybug, still distracted with teasing her partner, didn't react fast enough. Cat Noir did, and he jumped forward fast enough to shield her, though he got a faceful of slime. He spat it out on the ground while Sabine and Tom leaned forward in their seats, desperate to know if he was all right.

Ladybug just patted him on the back and laughed while he wiped his face with both hands.

"See?" Tom said. "See? He's fine. They're both fine."

"That thing can break pavement. What if it had landed on them?"

But the atmosphere changed as their daughter laughed with her friend. They seemed so earnest in their amusement and maybe even relaxed. The voices of the onlookers and reporters changed in response, becoming less strained. A few people laughed along with them.

The news report itself even changed. Cat Noir tried smearing the goo on a camera as a warning when it got too close, smiling the whole time, while Ladybug rolled her eyes at his antics.

Her parents watched their exchange in interest. Despite the levity they were injecting into the fight, Cat Noir was obviously still very protective of their daughter, which they were both grateful for. He pushed her out of the way of another jet of slime when she was distracted by her own Lucky Charm, and he didn't hesitate to continue fighting without her while she took a few minutes to set up a trap for the monster. They didn't miss the adoration on his face as he watched her.

Ladybug – Marinette – was protective of her partner too. When the monster got too close to him, she would yell out a warning. When it landed on top of him with another sickening crack, she dropped the trap she was crafting and leapt forward to wrench the monster off of him. To anyone else, Ladybug still looked calm and in control, but to her parents, they saw the panic that briefly flashed across her face when she realized her partner might be hurt.

That delay made the fight take a little longer than it might otherwise have been. At the end, Ladybug dashed off, hand over an earring. Cat Noir waved at her as she left, a hesitant smile on his face, then turned and comforted the frog victim, who was now nothing more than a disheveled and confused-looking man in his fifties.

"She'll be coming home soon," Tom said. "Should we go up there and wait for her?"

"Not yet," Sabine said.

The reporters were trying to get close again, no doubt to interview Cat Noir and the latest victim. The poor man looked shaken, and Cat Noir did his best to shield him from the reporters, finally picking him up and carrying him away.

"We need to talk to her about this," Tom said.

They fought against impossible odds with laughter, though they were both just children. And Cat Noir cared about their daughter so much, that was plain. How deep did that go?

"We need to talk to him too," she said.

Read Chapter Two

***

Author’s note: This is a reblogging of an old thing that I originally posted two years ago. I’ve altered it slightly. (Content-wise, nothing is different.) If you’re curious, the original can be found here.

Chapter two is almost completely done, and I think chapter three is in okay shape, so hopefully those updates will both be next week.

@tbehartoo @redhoodsdoll @salsyy301 @lunadensmidnightprowl

#ml #miraculous #miraculous ladybug #fanfiction #i've been saying for two years that i've been meaning to finish this story #I'M GOING TO FINISH IT

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oswinsdolma · 3 years

Text

Proving all the Knights of the Round Table have magic part 3: Elyan

I've seen quite a few people headcanon Elyan with magic before, and it's definitely one of the more popular magic!knights hcs, so I apologise if I accidentally hijack anyone else's points xx

The most obvious indicator of this is the fact that Elyan leaves Camelot a year before Merlin arrives. This is about the same age Morgana's magic shows itself, so it would be natural to assume he left because he began showing signs of being a warlock, Camelot's laws being what they are.

It is also implied that Elyan left fairly abruptly, with Gwen having no idea where he went. He may have left in a hurry because somebody might have noticed him, and not told Gwen or Tom for fear of putting them in danger.

Perhaps in a darker note, he didn't say where he was going because he was ashamed of his magic and didn't think his family would accept him.

Gwen says that "[Elyan] always seems to be in the wrong place at the wrong time". Maybe accidents happen around him because he had trouble controlling his magic and found it increasingly difficult to cover for. This could be another indicator as to why he left.

Elyan didn't return to Camelot even for his father's funeral, and while he expresses his guilt, he doesn't give sufficient reason why: the reason? He may not be able to tell Gwen because he was still scared to return with magic.

When Gwen reveals her relationship with Arthur, Elyan is skeptical, and maybe even a little panicked. After all, would your sister falling in love with someone with the power to set you ablaze not be a terrifying concept to anyone with magic? But when Arthur comes to rescue them and proves himself to be slightly less of a prat than he may think, he tentatively agrees to return home, though I suspect this is mainly for Gwen's sake.

When the immortal army invades Camelot, Elyan manages to stay hidden and fight off some soldiers. Note that he is the only one of the group within Camelot with no Knights' training, which begs the question: how did he manage to escape? The answer could very well lie with magic.

Again, in The Darkest Hour, he is one of two knights that survived the meeting with Morgana. He is one of the more inexperienced knights as well, which suggests that he may have aided himself magically in the fight.

When faced with a seemingly unbeatable threat, Elyan says to Arthur: "tomorrow, we fight in your name, sure. For freedom and justice in this land." Now there is a lot to unpack here, but if we break it down, firstly there is the fact that Elyan places is emphasis on "your" when addressing Arthur. He has previously made a statement about the Pendragon crest, but in this moment, it seems that he cares more about Arthur than this. This is clearly indicative of the fierce bond between Arthur and the core knights, but it could be more than that: the emphasis of "your" is specific to Arthur, but perhaps more importantly, it is an exclusion of Uther. In his time, Arthur has made mistakes, but he has generally been more sympathetic towards magic than his father, and this may be Elyan's subtle way of acknowledging that.

In addition, the words: "for freedom and justice in this land" could just be in reference for Arthur's abilities as king, but this is a deep speech and one would assume it has a deeper meaning. Freedom and justice are two things that have not been afforded to those with magic for a long time. Uther's twisted "justice" involved executing anyone who disagreed with him and anyone who could be vaguely affiliated with sorcery. As for freedom, Arthur has created a fairer kingdom than his father, but magic users still live in fear. Combined with the earlier stress of "your", this is indicative that Elyan too believes that Arthur may one day come to bring peace to anyone who is born with magic.

This last point also has the implications that Elyan knows of the Once and Future King and surrounding prophecies. Though he is described as a troublemaker by Gwen before he comes to Camelot, he keeps his head relatively low upon arrival. Perhaps in the time he spent travelling, he sought help from magical communities, e.g. the druids, who helped him control his powers. This would also explain his vagueness about his whereabouts and lack of contact during the years he was missing.

I could go on about this quote but we'll leave it there for now.

Before he is overtaken by the power of the Lamia, Elyan is vocal in standing up for Merlin. This could be because he knows what it is like to be shunned by society. Magic could be a reason for that. (Also I fully believe that the only reason the Lamia didn't try and take over Merlin was because she was scared of the extent of his magic, not just because he had magic.)(and the merthur reasons when I'm in the mood)

Then Elyan falls sick, before the others begin to show symptoms. Maybe the Lamia sensed some magic and decided he was more trouble than he was worth.

Elyan was not raised by druids, and does not have the same powers as Merlin so wouldn't have sensed the power of the shrine, at least not too strongly. When he first sees the spirit though, he is genuinely sympathetic, even before the murderous intent takes hold.

In the Dark Tower, Elyan is consumed by his need to find Gwen, convinced that he is to blame for her capture. This could be survivor's guilt (and to an extent, probably is), but it is equally probable that Elyan believes that he should have used his magic to protect her.

Going off on a slight tangent here, the theme of "I have magic so it must have a purpose" within warlocks/sorcerers in the show is a) not a healthy mindset and b) uncomfortably common. Elyan may have latched onto the idea that he must use his magic to protect Gwen to convince himself to stay in Camelot, and with that conprmino, he began to fall apart. His behaviour is almost identical to Merlin's fervour regarding Arthur at this point, and it's fairly disturbing that these characters adopt this mindset that is Not Good For Their Mental Heath, Please Get Some Therapy.

Elyan dies. It's heartbreaking, and he does so trying to save his sister. But what is interesting is his funeral. When most main characters die, they are given a funeral in Camelot, e.g. Uther, Lancelot (the first time). But then Freya and Shade!Lanceot (and later Arthur) are set to rest in the Lake of Avalon. The difference between the two is that the lake funerals were arranged by Merlin, and those laid to rest there can somehow be affiliated with magic.

Now I'm not saying that Merlin knew about Elyan's magic, because sometimes he can be really not very perceptive about that (though it's always fun when fics cheerily toss that out the window because it's fun goddamnit-), but I don't believe he was entirely oblivious. Think about it: there are two of Arthur's closest friends canonically hiding magic from him and it's fairly probable that they'll pick up on Elyan's magic at some point. Even if it's just little things like his sympathies with magic or gentle arguments about the way mages are treated. There are so many avenues to explore with this it's overwhelming-

I also think Elyan may have picked up on Merlin's magic later in the series: the point of realisation was probably when Merlin rescued him during his time being possessed by the drowned druid boy, upon which he says: "you know, Merlin, you're much braver than you look." This is the first time Merlin has revealed his more BAMF side to Elyan, and in this moment, something unspoken passes between them. If not mutual understanding, it is at least Elyan realising what Merlin does beneath his carefree exterior, and despite the possession, I think he acquires a lot of new respect for his friend.

(also are we going to ignore that the lake funeral implies that it was arranged by Merlin. How close were they and what stuff did we miss out on behind the scenes for him to be trusted with this?? I need to know)

Elyan and Mordred have a friendship in series 5. If the earlier headcanon about Elyan learning to control his magic with druids is true, perhaps he may have recognised Mordred from his time there. They probably didn't acknowledge it much, but it created a bond between them.

And now for the mythological context!!

Of all the Knights of the Round Table, Elyan's backstory is perhaps the most estranged from the original legend (of course all of them are fairly disconnected *flashbacks to pope-gwaine* but Elyan's is w a c k y)

As a consequence, there is little to draw on for behind-the-scenes evidence of magic.

Elyan, or Helayn, was another Knight whose origins stem from France (the Vulgate Cycle, I think, though he could have surfaced earlier). He is said to have joined Lancelot in exile after his affair of 'courtly love' with Guinevere (go and look up this concept- it gets convoluted in the myths but is really interesting in terms of both origin and content). Anyway, his exile here could represent the time he spent out of Camelot before his appearance in s3, and relates to hiding from harsh laws, particularly if we regard Lancelot and Guinevere's relationship in the same way as we do in the Vulgate Cycle (basically keep the context with the appropriate work and it sort of makes sense)

I appreciate this seems a little like grasping at straws but that's literature I suppose ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

In the legends, Elyan is nephew to another of Arthur's knights, Sir Sagramore. This knight is less famous than some, but at one point, he embarks on a quest to find the fay. The fay are closely linked with the she, and perhaps also live on Avalon, somewhere mortals are only supposed to see moments before death. Perhaps Elyan can be associated with this magic?

In reality, there is little written of Elyan and no prose or poetry dedicated to him so it's quite hard to find stuff about him.

Also legend!Elyan is heir to the throne of Constantinople, which just goes to prove how widespread and deeply convoluted the mythos is.

#pope-adopted-gwaine and emperor-of-constantinople-elyan team up in an epic crack-y au lmao #honestly the idea of elyan having magic is so plausible but also so sad #he isolated himself and then lost the person he cared about and that's heartbreaking #won't stop the headcanoning though ✌️#bbc merlin #bbc elyan #sir elyan

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dreamsmp-au-ideas · 3 years

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Teddy Bear Anon has purposed yet another interesting addition to the Immune AU which gives me plot ideas! In particular, a scene that would really help give past Dream a strong push into his character arc.

I like to image that immune!Dream’s character arc starts with the death of immune!Puffy. Sure, maybe he’s not sad yet, but he feels something for the woman who declared herself his pseudo mother. It’s what helps to crack the shell enough for the rest of the immune gang to start weedling their way into his heart. Immune!Dream after spending enough time watching the group he, starts to realize that yeah, connections to other people isn’t a weakness. It really is a strength. It’s something that takes time for him to come to terms with because Techno seems like a testament to the fact connections are a weakness. He was unbeatable until his horse got kidnapped. His only connection, his only weakness. But then there’s Tommy who seems to represent the complete opposite.

Where Dream represents strength from caring too little, Tommy represents strength from caring far too much. Now I’m a sucker for bamf Tommy, and I like to personally imagine that maybe the Immunes hold out for a year or two before they cave and try to make the portal. So Tommy has what really boils down to a two year training arc on top of already being a child veteran (I like to canonize SMP Earth as well because personal preference and it gives me even more room to make Tommy suffer. SMP Earth being canon? God, so much fucking trauma considering how the others treated him, a 15 year old child, like an adult.) Anyway Dream slowly realizes connections with one another are what kept the remaining Immunes alive, and he tries to force his younger self to understand that. Tries, but doesn’t really get far. Up until what everyone else calls The Fight.

Tommy’s always just kind of screwed around in fights as long as there’s only a threat to him. We know he has a tendency to throw if MCC is any indicator. But then they time travel and maybe they spend some time in the past trying to get the situation sorted and the past’s Dream maybe just kinda does something to Tubbo. Doesn’t even have to be big, it just needs to clock as a threat to Immune!Tommy who’s already lost his Tubbo and refuses to let his younger self go through that. So Tommy goes completely ape shit on the younger Dream. Sure, it’s only been two years for this Tommy. He’s probably, like, 18 or 19 at most. Still a child as far as a lot of people are concerned. He shouldn’t be stronger than Dream or Technoblade, and in the few cross group sparing sessions they’ve had he isn’t. He’s stronger than his younger self but no where near these two demi gods of combat. But then Dream suddenly registers as a threat to Tubbo in Immune!Tommy’s eyes and he makes the mistake of mocking Tommy while he’s at it. He knows that immune!Tommy lost his Tubbo and maybe the past Dream is lashing out slightly or trying to get some kind of foothold in Tommy’s psyche. He isn’t doing anything near what immune!Dream has done, but it’s enough to piss Tommy off. So immune!Tommy challenges Dream to a fight and Dream immediately realizes the mistake he’s made when Tommy starts to destroy him.

Say even Techno’s there for some reason or another and he realizes what’s going down so he tries to calm Tommy down, joining the fight just as Dream is loosing it. The situation quickly turns into the first time Techno’s ever gotten his ass thoroughly kicked by Tommy, leaving everyone spectating baffled (Tommy’s younger self partly included). They’re certain this kid is going on some rampage and none of them can stop him but the moment Dream and Techno are both taken care of (wounded, not killed, the older Tommy is always careful about that. He even throws a splash healing on them with some indifferent kind of disgust that hides the fact he does still care to some extent even hurting as he is.) Tommy immediately just switches focus to outright doting on Tubbo, ignoring any muttered Clingyinnits in favor of ensuring Tubbo is fine. Tubbo is completely find and just as confused, but the point stands and neither Tommy ends up leaving Tubbo’s side for the rest of the day. The younger Tommy, after all, is the only one the older Tommy’s told the full story to regarding the future (even when he couldn’t trust his own family he was always able to trust himself with the secrets that mattered, so he prepares his younger self in case the worst comes to pass.)

The older Dream, immune!Dream, he doesn’t get involved. He sit on the side lines and just kinda laughs, the sound drowned out by Sapnap’s loud encouragements and Sam’s half hearted attempts to get Tommy to stop (he could have stopped Tommy immediately if he’d stepped in. Sam is after all the only person on earth Tommy listens to without hesitation, but Sam lets it happen and pretends he tried.)

Immune!Dream just kinda smirks at his younger self later that night and mentions something about attachments really making you weak. After all, it’s not like the only time Tommy takes a battle seriously is when someone he cares about is in danger. It’s not like Tommy would turn the world into a seared ball for Tubbo, and Tubbo would do the same in return. It’s not like they’ve watched the people they care about temporarily rebuke the Crimson just to give the Immunes those precious extra seconds needed to survive in a fight. Attachments, they’re just a weakness.

The younger Dream doesn’t know how to respond to that. It’s the first time he thinks about his older self maybe being right.

Before I go I wanna leave you with two more ideas for the Immune AU

First up, Wilbur is eight years older than Tommy give or take. Wilbur had Fundy when he was around 16 and Tommy was around 8. Tommy was the best damn uncle he could be and for a while Tommy and Fundy were really stupidly close. They were both apart of the raised by Wilbur club and Wilbur was trying his damn best. Fundy aged/matured (physically and mentally) faster than a regular person for a while. They believed it was because he was a fox hybrid and Wilbur was ready to lose Fundy too soon. When Fundy was equivalent to 18 in human years though his aging process suddenly slowed to a crawl and his tail split into two, at which point the group realized he was actually a kitsune and it was just those first 8 years that passed by quickly (and Wilbur had a lot of questions for the now missing Sally who he’d thought was a salmon hybrid, genuinely, but became exceedingly less sure.) His family knows he’s a kitsune, but Fundy hid it from most of the rest of the server. A good thing considering later events.

Fundy was part of the Immune group for a while and I like to imagine that he and Tommy had a falling out during the Pogtopia era but after the egg started to take over they started bonding again and acting like, well, family. Unfortunately when it came time for them to activate the portal, Fundy ended up getting separated from the group and getting caught. The eggpire didn’t actually know Fundy was fully immune or a kitsune so he just kinda pretended to get infected, using his illusions to make his fur look crimson. I personally like the idea that Fundy at some point managed to get back to the time machine and being a little code wizard manages to get the thing working and yeets himself in. He shows up a little late but after fixing his appearance manages to catch up with the rest of the group.

Fundy is underrated. Tommy being a good uncle is underrated. Sam would absolutely adopt the traumatized fox baby in Eret’s honor. What’s not to love?

The last concept I wanna bring up that I really like is hybrid Tommy. Tanuki would be good since it’s another reason for the Sam Nook bit. Maybe Sam specifically picked Sam Nook since Tom Nook was Tommy’s favorite character on the grounds he was the only representation Tommy had ever gotten and it made the kiddo happy. However, I also personally really like phoenix Tommy and it would make an interesting plot point. Tommy accidentally losing his third life at some point and realizing he’s an immortal creature of fire would have led to him taking a protector role for his new family. He can’t die, but he can burn anything around him, why not send him out to get supplies when the worst the eggpire could do would be capture him. Even then he just literally cannot hear the egg. Which could lead to both some interesting comedic moments and some really good angst if Sam agonizes over his desire to protect Tommy and let him be a child suddenly being at odds with the fact Tommy is literally the best person for the job so to speak. Not to mention Sapnap, who I headcanon as a Blaze hybrid, would be even more attached the moment he found a new fire proof friend to burn forests with him. Regardless of which hybrid type he is, I could see him hiding it from everyone except for Fundy when he was a child and only ever admitting it later to the other Immunes once they become a found family.

Personally I like the idea of Tommy being part tanuki hybrid and part phoenix hybrid, but is that too mary sue? Is it just a little bit too cheesy to have him be both? I will never not try to incorporate phoenix Tommy into my fics but also tanuki Tommy would be such a mood for this au.

Like image Tommy just builds a den that’s in reality a vault/panic room a la Techno and he hides it under Church Prime since that is The Safe Spot in Tommy’s mind.

~Snapdragon & Firefly

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writingwithacupoftea · 4 years

Text

Of black cats and lessons to be learned

Summary: Someone is meddling with Y/N Shelby’s work at Shelby Company Limited and Tommy jumps to conclusions that he’ll later regret.

Word Count: 2242

A/N: I honestly still don’t know if I like this ending, but let me know what you think. Hope you enjoy it!!

The rain poured down outside the window of her office at Shelby Company Limited, and occasionally a large drop would bounce loudly off the glass. Normally Y/N would find the sound comforting, but today it was just downright fucking annoying. But as the door to said office bangs open, Y/N knows that the rain is going to be the least of her worries.

No one ever enters her office without knocking but Tommy.

And Tommy never lets the door bang unless he's pissed off.

Despite refusing to look up at her elder brother and boss, Y/N felt his glare on her as he stormed over. When Tommy slammed last week's accounts onto her desk, she slammed her pen down and glared right back at him.

"What the fuck is this?" Tommy demanded.

"Last week's accounts," Y/N deadpanned, not breaking eye contact.

"This isn't the time for jokes, Y/N, this is serious. They're riddled with mistakes for the third week running. Mistakes that could be lethal to this company and people's view of us"

"Well everything was correct when I handed it over to your secretary, I checked and double checked everything," as usual, Y/N added silently. "I keep telling you, my work is being meddled with!" Whilst Y/N appeared calm, her blood was boiling.

Tommy slowly took out a cigarette and lit it, in what she assumed was supposed to be an intimidating manner. It would be, to anyone but her.

"I've been having dreams about a black cat. Someone is trying to steal my crown." He sighed. "For someone so intelligent, I'd have expected better from you, Y/N" The woman in question was stunned into silence.

"Seriously, Tommy, me? I'd have expected better from you than to go around making accusations like that, both as your employee and as your sister. I've supported you through everything. When everyone turned against you, I was there. And you have the nerve to stand here and say that I'm trying to overthrow you." Y/N's anger was starting to seep through into her words, and a tidal wave was sure to follow. "You know that I loved Grace when you married, but GOD you were completely blinded by a good fuck all those years ago, and do you know what?" Y/N leaned forwards, menacingly, "I think the same has happened again."

With those few words, Tommy reached the end of his tether, slamming his hand onto the solid wood desk. "ENOUGH! If that's what you think of me, let's get the truth out in the open, eh? I think you've wanted this since the start. I think you've wormed your way around the company and the rest of this family and, blinded by your ambition -"

"My ambition?!" "you've forgotten the one main obstacle in your way. Me. And I'll tell you something else: I’m not moving for anyone."

A tense silence fell in the room. Y/N, holding back her tears and refusing to show any signs of weakness, simply nodded. "That was quite the speech, Thomas. Rather hypocritical too, might I add, lecturing me on being blinded by ambition. But I'm not even going to try and defend myself against those ridiculous claims because, when it's too late, you'll realise just how wrong you were." Y/N's voice was icy cold, and she picked up her coat and bag. "I only have two things left to say to you. As your employee, I resign, you can sort this fucking mess out on your own this time. And as your sister, well, you're not my family anymore." With that, Y/N stormed past him, out of the building and let the rain disguise her tears.

***

The only family member that Y/N had spoken to since the incident was Esme. She informed her sister-in-law that she was going to spend some time on the road with the Boswell's, a gypsy family who Y/N had become very well acquainted with, but they hadn't spoken since. It wasn't running away, it was an attempt to break free. That's what Y/N kept telling herself anyway.

Her time on the road had been exactly what she needed. The freedom, the open air, all the things that Y/N never realised that she had missed so much. Yet it was still tainted with memories of Tommy. Memories of happier times, when he would chase her around and play games and smile. Y/N had accepted that the war had changed her older brother, but the day she stormed out he was completely unrecognisable.

They used to always have each other's backs. She always wanted to make her beloved brother proud, but never wanted to be 'just like Tommy', despite Arthur and John's endless teasing. They were each other's rocks, the one reliable thing, and now that feeling of security had faded away like the smoke from his cigarettes.

Y/N was destroyed by the incident in her office, even though she hid it well. Now, two months into her time on the road, she was ready to be busy again and so set out to find a new job.

***

It had been four months since any of the family had seen or heard from Y/N.

Tommy had discovered that, as usual, his sister's instincts had been right and there had been someone trying to bring the business down from the inside. And it was the secretary. And she was part of another criminal gang who were rapidly expanding. A black fucking cat if ever Tommy saw one.

The traitor had had the nerve to tell him that the way to tear the company apart was to, quite simply, shatter the relationship between the two people who had the greatest minds and the strongest relationship: Y/N and Tommy.

It was the truth and Tommy knew it, having already felt the impact of her absence dearly, both on the efficiency of the company and on himself. But the it was too much for him to handle, and had let Arthur and John see to it that the secretary couldn't reveal any more truths to him.

He had never realised how important his sister was to him, how loyal and how much he needed her. With every day that passed without hearing of Y/N, Tommy became more and more anxious. If anything happened to her, he would never forgive himself and the rest of the family wouldn't forgive him either.

But the day that Tommy did get news of his beloved little sister, he almost wished he hadn't.

'A sister for a sister, seems fair enough, don't you think, Mr Shelby? We'll be in touch.'

Along with the note came a bullet. A bullet with Y/N's name etched into it, wrapped in her bloodied handkerchief.

***

Sheffield had been the nearest city. That was why Y/N chose to stop there. What she didn't realise is that it was a city rife with gangs.

She had fallen in with another gang, the last thing that she wanted to do.

And now she was locked in a cold, damp basement and, though she hated to admit it, Y/N wanted Tommy more than ever.

Beaten and bruised, she felt like a little girl again with her desperate need to be enveloped in her older brother's arms once again. But despite her wants and her needs, she had refused to break, even when she had been battered to the point of unconsciousness in her kidnapper's attempt to get information out of her.

She would protect her family and their company until her last breath. She would protect Tommy as he had protected her so many times in the past.

But it wouldn't come to that, because Y/N Shelby was far too stubborn to die whilst being guarded by a man that couldn't even count to ten. And so, with this new found strength and resolve, she planned her escape. As much as she wanted her brother, she damn well refused to let him come riding in like her knight in shining armour...

***

Days had passed since Tommy had received the note. The Shelby clan had all reacted in their own ways, but no one was as torn up as Thomas Shelby. He was drinking more, lashing out more, and no one knew when he was going to completely snap.

The family had poured all of their time and energy into searching for their sister, and yet they still didn't have a single lead. All they knew was that the traitorous secretary hailed from Sheffield, however there was definitely more than one gang based there.

But one day, a gloomy day where the rain poured down outside the Garrison, the people of Small Heath were able to stop living in fear of the leader of the Peaky Blinders' next outburst.

Thin, trembling, black and blue, Y/N Shelby stumbled through the door to the pub, where her family were gathered. Crystal blue eyes locked with hers, widening in shock and relief. But that was the last thing she saw before letting the exhaustion take over her, and her body collapsed to the floor.

***

The hours that followed were a blur for Tommy. Not caring that everyone was watching, he had scooped Y/N into his arms and refused to let her go as John had driven them to Tommy's house; even though it was only a few streets away, he didn't want her getting any colder than she already was. She was as pale as death, and Tommy was scared.

Polly had come round, he remembered, to tend to Y/N's wounds and settle her down into his bed. She had shooed him out of the way as he tried to stay in the room, not wanting to leave his sister's side now that he finally had her back.

After she had gone, well, Tommy didn't know how long he sat by his sister's bedside. It could've been minutes, or hours. He couldn't remember the last time he had seen Y/N look so vulnerable. Since he had come back from France, she always seemed so strong. Maybe, Tommy mused, she really was too much like him sometimes. In his dedication to the company, he'd started to forget that she was his little sister first and foremost, and not just his best employee.

The next morning, Tommy was still so consumed with his guilt and worry that he didn't even notice when Y/N first woke up. Yet at the small voice saying "Tom?", his attention moved completely to his little angel.

"Hello, trouble," he said, a glimmer of a smile passing over his lips as his sister glanced quickly around the room and then straight back to him.

"I made it," she sighed softly, tears finally beginning to pour down her cheeks. "I'm home."

"Shhh now. You're here, you're safe, and I'm not gonna let those bastards touch you again." Tommy brought her hand, which he had been clasping tightly since the moment that Polly had finished, up to his lips, placing a soft kiss on the back of it. "And I am so, so sorry, sweetheart. You were right, you're always fucking right. If I'd just listened to you, you wouldn't be in this state now. I love you so much and I'm so sorry..." Tommy continued rambling quietly to himself, and Y/N was alarmed to feel his tears hitting her hand. She was also amazed to hear the Thomas Shelby say the word 'sorry' - he usually said it through his actions, and never actually said it out loud. But here he was, unable to stop whispering it to her.

"Tom..."

"Don't you dare fucking tell me that this isn't my fault." Y/N was brought to silence by the severity of his voice. "I failed you, Y/N/N."

"You've taught me so much Tommy, and I love you more than anything, but speak to me like you did all those months ago and I will leave again. Maybe it's time the roles were reversed and you let your little sister teach you some things, yeah?" The siblings chuckled at that. Tommy knew that he couldn't cope with her leaving again. He just couldn't. His entire world had crumbled in the time that she had been away, but at the same time he knew that Y/N was right. Painfully, he added, he knew that she'd be right to get away from him if he ever became like that again.

Y/N saw the tear tracks left on her brother's face and the look in his eyes that told her that he was scared that she was going to vanish right before his eyes. She knew that, as much as this conversation wasn't over, it could wait for another day, and she patted the space next to her on the bed. "Come on, you big old softie."

"Oi, watch it." Tommy replied, sternly. However Y/N saw the teasing glint in her brother's eyes as he gently wrapped his arm around her shoulder, pulling her close to his chest, and placed a kiss on the top of her head.

As they lay there, the sun gently began to break through the clouds.

***

Both of them had a lot to learn, they knew that. But they'd do it together in their typical Y/N and Tommy way.

And the first lesson that Y/N learnt was that when Tommy Shelby said that he wasn't going to let you out of his sight for a while, he really fucking meant it.

#peaky blinders #peaky blinders sister #tommy shelby x sister!reader #tommy shelby x sister reader #tommy shelby #shelby sister #shelby!sister #shelby!reader #peaky blinders imagine #shelby sis #thomas shelby

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