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mythicaldemigoddess-of-deltarune · 2 years

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I Will Try To Semi-Trust A24...And Try Not To Believe The Rumors.

[Edit Of June 11, 2022: Just Skip This And Don't Read It At All, and Just Go Read the Post that says "Let's Stop The Drama And Misunderstanding (And About The Helluva Boss Fan Song I Wrote)"]

I had to edit this in another post as well, and well hopefully some will understand and not misinterpret....

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[Writer’s Note: Please Make Sure To Read The Whole Thing, So There is NO misunderstandings....]

first I want to say, that I was going to wait until the day after tomorrow to sign in,

but it seems that the problem that I had yesterday was fixed.

now for what I need to say....and I hope this can be the last time for now that I

talk about this, and don't have to talk about it for SUPER long time...or not talk about it at all.

even if some rumors made me go back to not fully trusting them....and I still don't fully, but I will try to Semi-Trust them.

I don't like the rumors that might be true, but if they aren't then they got me and others worried for nothing.

I mean if it is true that A24 does just give money for the Hazbin Hotel, and I guess that's fine, so long as they don't try to buy it away and try to make it so that the Crossover with Helluva Boss can't be used.

that would suck, and we know that one of the best things to see in the episode that had to do with Ozzie's,

was that the Exorcist appears in it, even if it was a small cameo. hopefully everything will work out, and well the Toxic-Fans will try to stop with the whole "hurry up" thing, yes there is a delay, but they should stop acting well, you know the way that have been....

it isn't good for those who are working the shows, and it takes time and a lot of energy. even the new Bendy game will take time and a lot of energy, but those who work on it will have to take breaks.

I didn't want to bring this up again, but I want to try to Semi-Trust A24, even if the rumors did get me worried and hopefully they can show the bad rumors aren't true at all.

we do not need another Oswald The Rabbit incident to happen, even if the two would be slightly different, we really don't need that kind of thing to happen. Mickey lost his older brother for YEARS, which just reminded me about the new cartoon.....but sadly it seems that it is cancelled...that stinks...

but I think I might be worrying over nothing, and A24 wouldn’t cross some lines, even if I don’t have full trust in them at the moment....

I hope some can try to understand why I can't help but not fully trust A24, but

I'm willing to try to Semi-Trust them and hope some bad rumors aren't true. sometimes trust issues happen, and I guess there will be those who might not fully understand why I and a few others wouldn't fully trust some companies. plus another reason for someone to have trust issues.

one of the reasons for someone to have trust issues, can be because some jerks did something really bad and insulting to them, and even didn't seem to care about their feelings when they try to "justify" what they did was harmless, but really it wasn't, when they edit in a bullying type of way, it isn't funny at all.

I still hate the person who did that to me, they were nothing more than a dirty shisno.....it had happen to me, and I know the person that did to that to me, didn’t care about my feelings at all and was just being a freaking shisno.

but yeah, besides THAT.....there can be different reasons for some to have trust issues, and it can sometimes leave a deep wound in the heart. even if there are some who can fully trust A24, there are some who might not fully trust them or are trying to trust them only a little by "Semi-Trust" but A24 will have to try to show that they can be fully trusted and aren't as bad as they seem.

once again I will try to trust them, but it will only be Semi-Trust, cause I just can't fully trust them yet....

I know I can't trust some companies who cross lines, I wouldn't even trust them with my fan song or any other songs I wrote just for fun or to let some feelings out. I wouldn't mind if someone made the song I wrote into a real song, I mean maybe it would need some work.... but that is like a "what-if" and not likely to happen, and it's not like the fan song I wrote that had to do with Helluva Boss episode 8,

will even get that far....I don't even have a name for it yet. I wrote it on June 8, 2022...and well it might not be my best work, and it might be stupid. maybe I should try to get a Co-Writer for it...? another thing I can't help have pop into my head, is that some might misunderstand why I wrote that song in the first place.

I think it might be for the best that all fans of both Helluva Boss and Hazbin Hotel, try not to get too worked up about whats going on right now. and sometimes misunderstandings can happen, that will become a problem that will worry some fans, the best thing to do is try to hope things work out.

the right thing to do is try to hope things work out and I don't want my words to get misunderstood, that had happen to me a few times...

and maybe try not to believe everything we hear, and well I'm not sure if many will even read this or understand what I'm trying to say...

well at least the problem doesn't seem to be about A24, but we should try to be more mature on what is going on and try not to make it into something not so great....

I am sorry that I believed some stuff that might of been untrue, but I hope things do get better and work out.

yesterday wasn't the best for me, one of which was because of connection problem for tumblr....

also we fans should try not to make anything more worse, we should try to stay calm and try to hope things do work out.

I was going to wait until the day after tomorrow to post this, but I think it should be said now.... sometimes what we hear can turn out to be a misunderstandings, and it being told from person to person, can turn out not to be the best thing.... I'm going to try to wait and hope things do get better, and try not to believe every rumor.

well I know my believing some rumors is foolish and I’m sorry for that.

what would be nice if it was just a rumor, and not true at all,

is that whole Satan being the Baby Daddy of Cain....

also a youtube video I watched that had to do with RH D Negative,

it makes me question some stuff about my parents, I might just be misunderstanding and might need to try to re-watch it....

but I guess I might be misunderstanding that makes me think that I might have two dads....so yeah my misunderstanding might be that my human dad was overshadowed, you know like Danny Phantom....?

I really should try to re-watch that video, I know I might be misinterpreting, at least I hope I am.

I know that I am still procrastinating int seeing if my blood type will come out O RH D Negative for the third time...

I know I’m a Defective Earth Angel, I mean I let some jerk make me cry because they couldn’t accept that I believe in the Earthly Mother as well, and also it might had to do with my still figuring out what type of Nonbinary I am, and I think I was going through a type of Chrysalis stage with that.

I know that my words at times, don’t get through very well at times, and that could be so even if I wasn’t Earth Angel that is just Defective Soul that don’t work correctly or like other Earth Angels....

but I’m me, and I can make mistakes, even some I don’t mean, like if some misunderstanding that happens, that could remind me of what some one did that hurt me really badly, and well even if it might appear that way, it really isn’t and yet the one who can’t see that, might not understand and well will just grow into a even bigger misunderstanding.

the best thing to do is try to not have too much misunderstandings.

I’m going to try not to believe the rumors, that I had heard a few days ago and hope things do work out.

I know that the whole Bendy And The Dark Revival being cancelled,

was just a rumor, and if the one who started that rumor had saw the updates to the Joey Drew Studios site, they would see that the game is still being worked on.

it’s possible that fans can be misinformed by another fan who will get everything wrong and well, it is just best not to listen to whoever which fan starts a rumor about either a game or show or movie series, unless there is some 100% proof.

I hope my words are understood and not misinterpreted, and some of you understand why I’m going to try to Semi-Trust A24, but it doesn’t mean I fully trust them yet....full trusting, will take time....

like how it will take time for me to fully trust my Guardian Angels to 100% again, the trust I have for them is like either 98% or 95%....

I have my reasons....and I’m not going to get into them in this post.

anyway if some of the rumors I had heard before that was shared by some fan or fans, had turned out to be not true, then I have a right to say that I’m sorry for believing in the said rumors and will try not to believe it fully, and could just semi-believe it but also believe it might not be true at all and it is just a rumor with no truth in it....

like believing something to be true, but at the same time knowing it could possibly be NOT true at all, but you want to try to get facts first before you fully believe it, and well I’m just going to try not to believe the rumors and it isn’t fair to me or others who might fall into those rumors.

and well we the fans that didn’t know, might still end up messing up and we just need to try not to, you know...?

the problem with Toxic-Fans is of course a separate matter, but we need to try to hope things do work out.

even if we might think what the problem is, but it might be best to stay out of it....at least that is what I want to try to do, and try to hope everything works out.

the reason why I put that writers note at the top, is because I wanted those who read this, to make sure to fully read it and try to understand what I’m trying to say.

it is possible that some misunderstandings can be worked out, if given patience and understanding, which hopefully some fans can understand.

anyway I could of just waited to post this tomorrow, but seeing as connection problem I had before, where everything seem fine at first but then it wasn’t, seems to be 100% okay and fixed now, I can post this now and not have to wait.

also I want to say that this wouldn’t just have to do with Hazbin Hotel or Helluva Boss, but all shows, video games and other work.

sometimes delays and hiatuses happen, there can be different reasons to why it happens, but that doesn’t give fans a right to try to tell them to hurry when there are things going on that might place the work on delay and hiatus.

the same thing can be said for FNAF Security Breach, yes it took a long time but it took time and even if there are clones in the game, I see the clones as being canon, which I will explain in another post.

so I hope some understand that I’m going to try not to believe the rumors that happen and I was foolish to believe.

I still try to Semi-Trust A24, and hope that the rumor I had heard before about them, stays untrue and hope one of the things that are 100% true is that they are trying to help.

I’m going to try not believe or fall into that whole rumor trap, I know I had and I was still foolish to believe them. and like I said I’m going to try not to, and I’m going to try to Semi-Trust A24 and hope things do work out.

I think I will sign in for a few, and check out some fan art and try to not see anything that has to do with the rumors, I think I want to keep a distance from that and only hope that things work out....

also if some fan does start a rumor that I and other fans believe, well it’s just best to try to get facts first before believing them....hope everyone gets what I mean and doesn’t misinterpret, I know one of the things I worry about is being misinterpreted, that has happen to me before and not always in a understanding way, and well....

but I will say see ya later and stay safe everyone, and be careful not to believe in all rumors.....and I’m sorry that I believed them.

I’m going to shut up now.

#apologies #misunderstandings #rumors #a24 #talking about feelings #hazbin hotel #helluva boss

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foxy-exy · 3 years

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You don’t have to say you love me (I just wanna tell you somethin’) - Kevaaron

Aaron could have predicted that pretending to date Kevin Day to get back at Andrew would backfire. He just didn't think it would backfire like this.

Another present fic for @starsandgutters !!

It started off as irritation. A prickle of annoyance. After all, Aaron thought, why was his brother allowed to have his stupid little boyfriend who gave him sappy little looks and brushed his fingers when they thought no one was looking? When Andrew spent so much energy and time driving off each and every girl Aaron had ever even smiled at?

When he woke up to Josten curled up in Andrew’s bed, he felt the anger begin to simmer in his chest.

And when he finally walked in on them kissing, Aaron Minyard knew something had to be done.

***

“I’m sick of this.”

Kevin looked up at the slam of Aaron’s hands on the kitchen counter, a ghost of a wince startling him out of his intent perusal of a book — one that looked suspiciously like some kind of soapy dollar store romance. Aaron raised an eyebrow at the chiselled man with an Exy racquet slung across his shoulders plastered across the cover, and Kevin cleared his throat and flipped the book over.

“Sick of, uh, sick of what?”

“Them. Josten being all over Andrew.”

Kevin looked mildly disturbed. “You didn’t… they weren’t…”

Aaron mimed vomiting. Imagine walking in on that. “Oh god, no. They were just making out. But it’s pissing me off. At this point, I feel like they need a taste of their own fucking medicine.”

Kevin lifted a dark eyebrow, uncomprehending. “What do you mean?”

Aaron considered him over the top of his laced fingers.

It wasn’t Kevin’s fault that Aaron and Katelyn had tearfully decided several months ago that the sneaking around just wasn’t worth the effort — attempting to keep their relationship up at a distance wasn’t working, so they’d parted ways. And it also wasn’t Kevin’s fault that he was now the only one who wasn’t related to Aaron that he actually exchanged more than two regular words with.

But the plan that had been quietly brewing in the very back corner of Aaron’s head for several weeks now was, admittedly, immensely helped by Kevin being Kevin. The fact that it was Kevin — of anyone Aaron could hatch this particular plot with — would piss Andrew off like no other.

And ultimately, that was the utmost goal.

“Kevin, what if I were to tell you…”

***

“What.”

“Look, I’ll help you with studying. Or — or something. I don’t know, what do you want? I’ll get you merch for your favorite team. Something for Knox, or whatever? You can put it on your little shrine.”

“This is ridiculous,” Kevin said, but he suddenly looked a little pinker than he was before. “I don’t have a…a shrine.”

Aaron opened his mouth to make a comment about how he didn’t know what else the entire inside of Kevin’s wardrobe was supposed to be, but now was the time to let things like that go. “I know Andrew and Josten piss you off too. If they figured out they needed to chill out with each other, maybe they’d do more practice with you.”

Kevin looked to be considering the proposition, finally, narrowing his far-away eyes thoughtfully down at the shirtless Exy player, only slightly concealed on the counter by one hand. At last, he said haltingly, “Couldn’t you…ask someone else?”

The uncertainty was Aaron’s in. He pushed forward, throwing another Kevin bait into the mix. “If you do it, I’ll practice extra with you too.”

Kevin’s eyes narrowed again, snapping up to sharpen on Aaron’s face. He had him. “I don’t know if you could keep up.”

“Oh my god, you asshole, that’s the point. I’ll put in more effort, you can show me how.”

“You’ll join night practices?” Kevin tilted his head.

A twinge of nervous anxiety in Aaron’s stomach. “I mean, I can’t do it all the time, I have to study, because unlike the rest of you all, my classes actually matter outside of a minimum GPA. But sure, whatever. Sometimes I’ll let you drag me along. If you do this.”

“This is ridiculous,” Kevin sighed again, as he stuck out his hand for Aaron to shake.

“So is your book,” deadpanned Aaron.

(Though if he had to chew his lip nearly to bleed to bite back a smile when Kevin dove to escape with his smut novel with a sputter and a glare, it was no one’s business but his own.)

***

“Greek salad and the turkey sandwich, here you two are. Enjoy.”

Kevin was sporting a sour scowl strong enough to wilt the salad the cafe waiter had placed in front of him — like getting treated to lunch was the lowest part of his week.

Maybe it was, he’d probably prefer to carry out this plan on the court. After all, Kevin preferred to do most things on the court.

Now that Aaron thought about it, Josten preferred the same. Perhaps the next part of this plan could happen on the court. At least Kevin would look less like he wanted to be five miles away from him, which really ruined the entire point of this exercise.

“They usually get coffee here around this time, so we just need to be a little convincing when they show up,” Aaron muttered, once more glancing furtively over his shoulder for Andrew and his annoying redheaded shadow. “But before they get here, Kevin, you did agree to at least pretend to fake date me. Maybe drop the murder glare, it’s not very romantic.”

“What am I even supposed to do?” Kevin hissed, but his glare dropped in favor of the same flavor of embarrassment Aaron recognized from his Knox shrine, eyes darting to Aaron’s face and back away, on repeat.

Aaron scoffed. “You’ve dated before. You were dating — what’s her name, Thea, weren’t you?”

“Not like this,” Kevin mumbled, beginning to shred his napkin.

Aaron watched him shower paper confetti across the tabletop, biting back his own surprise. Granted, Aaron had only seen Thea once or twice before Kevin had ended things with her, and their relationship had never seemed anything like Aaron’s often short lived but whirlwind style romances. Kevin and Thea had read aloof power couple at best, and… dangerously close to toxic old Raven headspace for Kevin at worst.

But still… Kevin Day, unsure of dating. Unsure of himself. A strange sight indeed.

“Well. We’ll figure it out. First, here.” Aaron slid an open palm across the table, and Kevin stared down at it like it was a foreign object.

“Hold my hand. It’s not going to bite you.” No movement, but Aaron knew how to play to his audience. “Or are you not up to the challenge?”

Kevin huffed and slapped his hand down, clamping his fingers around Aaron’s wrist. His hand was very large, and enveloped most of Aaron’s, but the death grip was anything but amorous.

“Prime boyfriend hand holding, Day,” Aaron said dryly.

“Prime plan, Minyard,” Kevin parroted back, as he picked his fork back up, raising his eyebrow. “Have fun eating that sandwich with one hand.”

“Fuck you.”

“Not on the first date, honey,” Kevin smiled around his forkful.

“Oh, of course. I’ll wait til the second to jump you, I’m not a slut, sweetheart.”

The slight choke brought a wave of triumph, as Aaron also managed to pick up half of his slightly soggy sandwich and bit into it.

Kevin was giving him A Look, and Aaron flipped him off with his sandwich hand, smirking.

Even if he’d had another option for this plan, Kevin was fun to poke at. It had been a long time since they’d last properly talked. They rarely spent time alone — Andrew was the Minyard Kevin was most interested in. Aaron’s preoccupation with Katelyn and with his schoolwork had meant he’d rarely spent much time speaking to him, anyway, let alone trading snarky insults.

Kevin speared an olive and stared at it. “So… aside from… holding hands. What are we planning on doing?”

Aaron tried to cough down dry turkey. “We just need to fool Andrew into thinking we’re an item, it’s not that hard.”

“But what kind of terms, Aaron? How far are you expecting…oh shit.”

(Read more on AO3 here!)

#kevaaron #aaron minyard #kevin day #all for the game #the foxhole court #aftg #aftg fanfic #all for the game fanfic #fanfic #andrew minyard #neil josten #andreil #kay fanfic #kaystuff #long post

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ofmythsandmadness · 3 years

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to be called beautiful | d.h.

❛ do you ever miss, having someone around to love you?❜

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SUMMARY: vigilantes!au. you push the boundaries of your relationship, and ask for a wish you know won't be given back. (or — it's late, and after another night of patrol, loneliness sets in deep.) WARNINGS: slightly nsfw??? mentions to sex, no descriptions. it's not a sexual story, just a part of an inner monologue. WORD COUNT: 2.6k+ NOTES: reposting this in hopes it shows up this time (pls pls pls i'm gonna cry). i've been writing a whole other series that is a totally different writing style, but i've been trying to work out my emotions in small, focused pieces like this one when i can't focus. i might develop this into a small ficlit series of it's own, bc i think it's kinda fun — but we'll see how this goes.

THE BEAST THAT IS YOUR LONELINESS has been your burden for too long to say.

It's hold on you is a familiar ache, one you've felt for years, like a chronic tight tugging on your heart that refuses to give in no matter what you try. But you still refuse to name it for fear of coming to terms with the implications of it all. That you're really alone in this life and you're terrified of what that means and the fact that you can't have what your childhood stories promised would be yours.

Like the fool you are, you cling to the idea that it's just passing notions. You'll get over it one day. The flitting daydreams of a fairytale romance better fit for a vanilla Hallmark flick suck, but one day they won't hurt so bad. You'll numb and find a way to fill the void. And you try, you really do, pushing it down for the quick release of meaningless acts and walks of shames and cold bedsheets.

Sex is a toxic friend. You choose it's pull when your heart aches most and the loneliness begs for your breath to the point where every gasp of air is a privilege, not the bare minimum. It's not what you crave. There's no romance, no love. It's a trade and one that always leaves you feeling robbed of something you're not sure you ever even had.

You rarely remember their names. You know they probably won't remember yours. And why would they? The shudders, the whimpers, the cold moans that amount to nothing but crumbs of a supposedly passionate act only pass an hour, then they're gone. Or you're gone, if you're lonely enough to risk it. A bit of fun, a breath of pink and white and the feeling of someone pulling you closer, begging for your skin against theirs.

And then, it's all grey again. And you're alone at your apartment, washing your body free of the marks some stranger dared to press into your wilting skin, wondering what it would feel like for a lover to kiss you that same way. Running your fingers over every inch that has been caressed by so many faceless guests, trying to hold yourself in the way your foolish heart pounds for. But it's never enough. Your hands don't cup your flesh, don't mould and kiss and promise the carefully knitted lies any lover had dealt you in the past. And you're as cold as ever when they fall back to your sides. Nothing enflames your skin like you wishes it could — like those you wish would.

It's a discontent you live with. Just as you're sure millions of others do. That's what life is; you push yourself through the day, through your mundane day job and your taxing nighttime hobbies (because you sure as hell can't claim what you do as real work if your only pay is in blood and tears). You cling to the good times that happened too long ago to remember clearly, and make the moments that you're alone with your thoughts as small as possible.

But there's no time to consider all that now.

You scrunch your face up as tight as you can, squeezing your eyes shut to the point where you see stars, exploding like confetti in some absurd black void that hides behind your lids. For a moment you hold the pose, watching the stars erupt, until the position hurts too much and you have to release.

Surroundings blur and then clear as your eyes readjust from their disassociation. You stare blearily at the random coffee shop you and your 'associate' chose for the night. It's just as generic as the last five visited, a thousand shades of brown and red and weary smiles the bored baristas wear just for a cheap check that'll barely cover their asses. It's worn and empty; no one's hear except the two of you and the workers who probably hate you for being here so late.

Normally, you would feel like an asshole staying so late. But you can't bring yourself to move, or even suggest to. It's all too heavy. And even if it's in brooding silence, you don't want to leave your partner. Not yet, you beg the universe, just a few more minutes.

And, speaking of—

"What's got you so blue today?"

You blink. Look over to him, only to see him already watching you.

There's really no point lying. He always unravels you too quickly, too easily — it's the detective in him, unravelling anyone and scooping their truths from shivering flesh. Some sort of childhood trauma response he developed into another super power.

You used to hate it. Now...if you concentrate hard enough, his sharp gaze feels like one of a lover's.

"Don't know what you mean," you tell him, foolish and flustered. "I'm just fine."

"Bullshit. You've sighed a dozen times in the last five minutes."

"Tch. No I haven't."

"Did too!"

His teeth glint, white and clashing against the full pink of his lips. You wish you could denounce all the times you wondered what it would feel like to have them graze against your keening skin — but not even all the gods could cleanse of you of those thoughts. Those desperate, pleading, melancholic memories stain; he can't see them, but you do when you look close enough. And you can't escape it, much as you try.

"Seriously, though. What's up with you?"

Your gaze falls down to your hands, eager to escape his allure, though it's not a great distraction. It only makes you more bitter, really, taking in all the flaws that litter your weaponised limbs. They're calloused from a million fights. Your knuckles are scarred, aching from wounds you reopen every other night. A thousand scars from a thousand scrapes, cuts, slashes and grazes linger on once perfect skin. You don't know how many there are, anymore, only that you wish you could wipe them off. Start over, have a clean slate. Erase all your mistakes and be beautiful again.

"I'm just tired," you lie. It's tense and pitiful; you know you've screwed it up the second the words leave your lips. "S'all."

"Ri-i-ight, and I'm the goddamn queen of England."

The absurdity of his retort makes your lips twitch. It's not enough for a smile, your self-inflicted misery makes sure of that, but it's a seed of something. "Wow. Didn't know I was in the presence of royalty."

"Yeah, yeah. Shut it."

"My apologies, your highness."

"Shut up, you little shit," he grumbles, but it's as soft as you get from him. It's practically a cry of love — or your foolish mind paints it as such. You take his teasing insults as promises of adorations and his arguments are poems of lust and infatuation that tug on your heartstrings in ways you know they shouldn't.

You're partners, for crying out loud. Professional coworkers (if you call the bloody mess you two create work). You don't get to miss him, or crave him, or love him like you do.

"Something happen to you?"

You watch his own hands fold and unfold on the table. The long, delicate fingers stand out on a man like him; someone who paints himself in only sharp angles and cutting lines. But you think they match him well. They promise life. Bleed hope, even in the raised scars that lace his skin like your own. You've watched those fingers grip a blade, launch it into flesh, pull and push and dig and rip and take and committed acts of atrocity most people would run from. You know he probably thinks of his hands the same way you do. But you think they're beautiful.

"Nah. It's...it's nothing. Really."

You can't see his face, but you imagine his narrowed eyes and furrowed brows asking for an answer you're just not willing to give. "C'mon, just tell me. Can't be that bad."

Your body laughs. You hear it from some place far away. It's cold and hoarse; you wonder how long it's been since you've heard a genuine laugh from yourself. You wonder if he notices (and wishes he did, foolishly, frivolously...).

It's probably stupid, but you go for it.

"You ever miss having someone?"

Something creaks; his chair, groaning as he shifts his weight. One of his fingers taps against his empty coffee cup; idle music for a restless soul.

"Like, in what way?"

"I..." Your nails dig into your palms. This was a mistake, but one you have to follow through with. He won't accept silence after something like that. "In the cheesy, domestic sorta way? That whole, havin' someone to come home to, someone who you can talk to, someone who..." the words stick like molasses in the back of your throat. Try as you do, they refuse to give themselves to him, so you have to substitute. "Just, someone who likes you, past your body or, or whatever."

"Oh."

"Sorry." It's your turn to shift in your seat, awkwardly searching for something to occupy yourself with as this uncomfortable energy you've created carries on. But your cup's empty, and you don't have the cash to ask for another overpriced latte. "Forget about it. Let's talk about somethin' else, yeah?"

He doesn't answer that. In fact, he doesn't say anything at all for a moment, long enough to make you wonder if you've just crossed the line of no return. You can't bring yourself to look at him, hell your cowardice is painful enough to make you wonder if you should just make a run for it, say au revoir! to the bond you've built with this knife-obsessed robin hood and crush your heart forever.

It's tempting, and you consider it, but then he fills the silence.

"I miss Eudora sometimes."

Finally, your gaze tilts up. Your eyes meet his lips. He's not smiling anymore.

You guys don't talk about exes together. It's a forbidden topic, same as family or childhoods or the number of people that have cut you open and bled you dry for fun. It's too personal, and in this line of work, personal doesn't fly. But you know Eudora Patch, because this line of work requires a couple run ins with people like her, and because your partner in crime has never learned how to stop his emotions from bleeding into his expression.

"Not because I still love her, but y'know..." his fingers wave aimlessly. "It was nice, when it worked. I liked having someone to sleep with. In a non-sexual manner." His lip curls a little. "Guess the sex part was nice too, though."

You nod. "Yeah, I get that. It's...it was nice, having someone who knew you. Who wanted to make you feel good, not just for themselves but 'cause that sort of things matters."

"Mm."

"Y'ever consider pursuing that sort of thing?"

He shakes his head. His adamancy is a truck smashing into your heart — though you know you should have expected no less, it still hurts. "I can't. It never works, with people like us. Y'know?"

"Yeah. Makes sense." You want to say more. You probably should say more — but you doubt he wants to hear your woes about intimacy, and the pathetic ways you crave affection you probably don't deserve. "Yeah."

"Why?"

"Hm?"

His brows knot. "Why're you asking? Someone do somethin'?"

"What? No."

"Cause, like, if someone's hurt you, I'll—"

"I'm fine," you promise, and without thinking, you reach across the table to pat his hand. To reassure him like one would a lover. But just before your fingers meet his, the bitter reminder that he's not yours sets in and you draw back. Your hand falls a couple inches from his own. "And I can take care of myself, if I wasn't. Don't worry."

He chuckles mirthlessly. "Y'sure about that? You're still the dumbass that tripped over her own feet twice walking down an empty sidewalk, and—"

"—oh, you are such an asshole, why can't you just—"

"—so if you need someone to cut a bitch, I'm available."

You soften slightly. Try to smile, even if it's a false promise and probably hangs like a broken door on mismatched hinges. "I appreciate that. But I'm okay. Think I'm just tired, and a little lonely."

"What, I'm not good enough for you anymore?"

Bitterness seeps onto your tongue; it speaks before you can shut your lips around it. "You're fine as a partner against crime. But you're not anything otherwise, are you?" It feels like a taunt. You hadn't meant it to be — though, maybe you had.

If he takes your jeer poorly, though, it doesn't show on his face. He's still smiling and watching you, eyes simmering with a joke you wish you were in on.

"It doesn't matter though. Having someone's too complicated, 'specially for fools like us. Sometimes it's just..." you don't have a good answer. Not one he'd want to hear, anyways. "I just miss it sometimes. It'd be nice to have someone to talk to, or eat breakfast with in the mornings."

He nods slowly. "Yeah. Was nice, having another body around."

"Yeah. Ha. I," you stutter out a chuckle. Tug at your lip, nibbling at the cracked skin that comes with your long nights. "No one prepares you for how lonely adulthood is. Like, I'm half tempted to make friends with the takeout guys, just so I have a friend at all."

"We're friends."

"You know what I mean," you mumble, swallowing the bitter 'are we?' that almost makes its way off your tongue. "It was just nice when I had the time, to have a person around. Someone to like, hold hands with, or-or call me beautiful, sometimes. I-I can't remember the last time called me that, any..."

Fuck.

You hadn't meant for that last confession.

He wasn't supposed to hear that. It's too personal, too personal, too fucking personal for someone you don't even know.

Everything trembles; you're shaking like an avalanche, ready to sweep it all away under some snow drift. Never to be seen again. But you can't do that, there's no taking back the way your voice cracked as it reaches it's last word, and how your hand slips into a fist, ready to charge even though there's no punching your way out of this fumble.

You crack. Stumble out of your seat. Before he can talk you're moving, throwing a couple bills (too many for your poor wallet, you'll pay for that later) down and mumbling something about heading home. Your head's spinning and you just want to sit down again, pretend like this never happened and ask about some meaningless moment in a meaningless day that you wish could be yours and his, not just—

"—text me when you're goin' out again," you say, high and nervous. "I'll be around."

You turn.

"You don't have to leave."

"I got work tomorrow. Early."

"Thought you had the day off?"

Fuck, la deuxième acte. "Taking a shift for someone."

"Oh." He doesn't believe you. He would be a fool to. But he agrees anyways. "Okay."

"See ya, Kraken."

He doesn't answer you back. It's probably better that way.

BONUS

Many hours later, you're in bed, finally dozing off. You've rinsed off the filth of the night and resigned yourself to a barely adequate rest alone, too tired to consider what usually makes your mind race. It's been a long day; let future you contemplate all the ways you've screwed up.

Just as you're about to fall asleep, however, there's a small ping! that immediately wakes you up A notification sound reserved for only one person.

You groan but still roll over. Your heart may be a humiliated, burning mess, but it still beats for him, much as you've tried to stifle it.

kraken // 2:36 am. you available at 11p tomorrow?

kraken // 2:37 am. got word somethin going down at east docks, wanna check it out before it gets bad.

Relief is a sweet blessing. You exhale and smile into the darkness. He's still a professional, even if you seem unable to understand what that means.

you // 2:40 am. for sure. meet me at my place whenever and we can prep.

You leave it at that. Whatever he has to say after that, cannot be too important to waste your precious hours of sleep. So you roll over and shut your eyes and let yourself forget about the empty space that fills your place.

It's a decision you regret the next morning, when you wake up and realise what you missed.

kraken // 3:31 am. you ever get lonely for someone, feel free to let me know.

kraken // 3:32 am. might not make a great boyfriend, but i'll eat breakfast with you. so long as you're cooking.

A/N - I had a whole idea for two tired vigilantes (like what Diego does in season one, but partnered up) who both are really lonely and tired of life and all it's shit, and rely on each other more than they'll ever admit, and...I'll probably never write it, but this was a fun bit of that. two lonely emotionally deprived assholes who can't accept that maybe they can be loved and the person who wants to is right in front of them. :)

#my writing #diego hargreeves #diego hargreeves x reader #tua x reader #tua imagine #diego hargreeves imagine #hargreeves imagine #hargreeves x reader #gender neutral reader

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artaefact · 3 years

Text

solace.

➳ 1k+ words | fluff, angst-ish, hogwarts au, hufflepuff!taehyung | kim taehyung x reader | pg-15 | mentions of fighting, toxic friendship (not with tae tho), taehyung is a whole cutie here )):

prompt: blue and grey (song lyrics #4)

Despite the sun filtering through your dorm window—an indication of nice weather—you don’t feel like getting up. You almost wish it’s still showering with the flashes of lightning to match your mood.

Your body is still exhausted, your eyes drooping lethargically, and you still want to sleep. Attending classes is the last thing in your mind right now. Yesterday’s fight with your supposedly “best” friend left a bitter taste in your mouth.

Maybe you should cast a hex on her. Nothing too serious. Maybe turn her into a slimy frog whenever she decides to insult other people again. Or perhaps a cockroach? So, someone can accidentally step and squash her without labelling it as murder. After all, ridding of pests is “an act of honour”...

...At least that’s what Hoseok usually says.

Your thoughts snap back into reality when there’s a knock on your door.

“Y/N?” At the sound of the familiar voice at your bedroom door, you furrow your brows, slipping out of your covers (yes, still in your teddy bear pyjamas).

Opening your door slightly, you find one of your friends standing there. “Tae?”

“Yeah, it’s me.” Concern fills his gaze as his eyes meet yours through the small space. “May I come in?”

You look down at your choice of attire in horror. Then you catch your messy reflection through the full-length mirror at the corner of the room.

Bloody hell.

You close the door at once. “Give me five minutes!”

Various colourful words run through your mind as you brush your teeth quickly while grappling for your wand on your writing desk. Then, with a quick incantation and a flick of your wrist, the mess you made in your room cleans itself up.

Thank goodness for magic.

After making sure there are no more crusty eyes and morning breath, you swing the door open. Taehyung still stands there, noticeably fidgeting as he holds a container in his hands.

His gaze darts on your face then to your outfit—

Merlin’s Beard! You forgot to change out of your teddy bear pyjamas. But Taehyung doesn’t look bothered by it. Instead, he merely chuckles.

Placing a hand on one hip, you clear your throat, sounding nonchalant. “What brings you here?”

“I didn’t see you in class today.” Then he lifts up the container in his hands. “So, I brought porridge.”

You step aside, letting him in. “You don’t have to, you know. I’m not really sick. I was just...” And you realise you don’t really have an excuse besides the energy-sucking fight you had with the banshee.

Taehyung glances around your room, and with a flick of his wand, he conjures a bed tray table on your bed. His whole attention is on you after placing the container on the table. “You should eat while the porridge is still warm.”

You climb back up to your bed, settling down carefully as you observe the steaming porridge he brought. “Thank you. You didn’t have to do all this for me, you know. I’m fine.”

Taehyung sits on the foot of your bed, adorning his black-rimmed glasses today. And your heart stutters at sight. It’s those glasses that would lift slightly by the apple of his cheeks whenever his boxy smile appears.

In other words, It’s your favourite look on him! Not that you have ever mentioned it to anyone. Fortunately, not even to that banshee when the topic of boys comes up.

“You may be physically fine, but I don’t think you’re emotionally fine...”

You let his words sink in.

“I heard about the fight you had with her. I don’t know what it is about, but the guys and I are all on your side.”

You sigh, stirring your porridge with your wooden spoon. And somehow, you can’t look Taehyung in the eye. “You don’t even know the whole story, though.”

“We don’t need to. I don’t need to. What she said about you was unforgivable.”

Ah... A mudblood. That’s what she called you when...

You barely manage to swallow down the porridge in your mouth. “It’s alright. What’s done is done. I shouldn’t dwell on it much longer.”

“But clearly, you’re still affected by it,” the Hufflepuff pouts. “I hate seeing you like this.”

It was stupid—the fight. One of the reasons why it started is currently sitting on your bed.

Your ex-friend has been talking about your seven friends nonstop, rating their looks and how it would be if she’s dating them. However, you hardly contained your anger when she decided to talk about Taehyung offensively due to his Muggle-born origin.

“I mean, he’s got the face and all. He’d be the type to cling to me, you know? God, if he weren’t a muggle-born, maybe I’d entertain him for at least a month before moving on—”

Just recalling it makes your blood boil as you clutch the wooden spoon tighter.

If there’s anything, Taehyung is one of the friends whom you will fight tooth and nail for, and he also happens to be the friend you’re crushing on. Like how can you not?

Taehyung is the literal definition of dreamy. He has a soft spot for animals and loves to make his friends handmade gifts. In short, he’s nothing but a sweetheart.

That was why all hell broke loose in the dining hall the other day. You had attempted to move to talk about different subjects. However, she insisted on having Taehyung as the topic of your conversation. And once she decided to say something crude about him, you snapped. Forsaking your wand, you throw your bland corn soup on her face, earning a shocked screech from her. “You filthy mudblood!”

It caused a major uproar among the students. Taehyung had rushed to your side as you were clawing at the banshee, pulling you away from causing further damage. Not that it makes that much difference according to the ugly scratch on the banshee’s face. He was there when you were called to Professor Dumbledore’s office, patiently waiting outside with his face furrowing worriedly. He had even walked you to your dorm even when you refused to speak.

“I’ll be fine,” you chuckle slightly. “She was never a good friend anyway. I was stupid enough even to consider her as a best friend since we were just always in the same class.”

Taehyung mulls for a while before he hesitantly questions, “Is there anything I can do? To make you feel better?”

And here he is, your sweet Taehyung. He doesn’t know that his presence has already brought you solace.

Sending a fond gaze at him, you say softly, “You already did.”

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sulphuryasecretcloset · 3 years

Text

What if... Bonus

What if Dulsissia hadn’t died, what if she had grabbed Corin and fled? What if she met Davarax? What if…this influenced even more lives?

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10a Part 10b Part10c

BONUS CHAPTER:

Dez Vizla is not pleased. There is a strange feeling in his chest. It’s an ache and yet not a physical pain. Ever since Paz had made it clear he would not be coming back with him, that weird feeling had been gnawing away at him. It’s pissing him off!

And to make his day even worse, he’s not even halfway home when some idiot decides to start shooting at his ship and gets in a lucky shot.

Dez’ ship goes down, gets snagged in the gravity pull of a planet and Dez fights hard to counter all the problems his computer warns about as he spins towards the ground. Somehow he manages to prevent dying in a ball of fire from crashing into a mountain by nose-diving into what looks to be a desert, but the impact is still powerful enough to make the nose of his ship crumble inwards and Dez screams as a piece of metal snaps his right leg seconds before the craft comes to a groaning, hissing halt.

Pain is scrambling his brain for a second, Dez gulps for air and tries to will his mind to function. Luckily he is no weakling and finally his senses start to return to him.

A quick scan reveals he’s in trouble. He’s stuck, pinned by the metal pressing on his leg, he’s bleeding from a couple of cuts and he really feels like throwing up, but these are his minor problems, real trouble comes in the shape of the ship which had shot him down landing next to his.

Five pirates emerge, armed and pleased with their imagined victory.

Dez Vizla draws his blaster, panting with pain and fury. They will regret messing with a Vizla.

Thirty minutes later, the pirates are dead, but Dez paid for it with a messy blaster hit by his collarbone and he’s bleeding bad.

Lowering his blaster, leaning his helmet back against the headrest, Dez looks up at the sky through the broken transparisteel. He exhales, knows this is something he won’t get able to get out of, and wonders if his son will even grieve his passing...

Probably not.

Clenching his jaw, Dez feels a wave of anger. If Paz had agreed to come with him, he wouldn’t be alone and dying here! This is his fault! Stupid boy. He thumps his helmet angrily at the headrest.

There is a sound, someone is climbing the hull of his ship, and Dez quickly lifts his blaster again, ready to take out whomever stupid enough to think he was completely out of the game.

Seconds later, a head pops up and someone looks into the cockpit. It’s a girl, a Zeltron, maybe around 16? She looks at him with a stern expression. “Put the blaster down.”

“Not going to happen.” Dez growls. There is blood in his mouth now. That is a bit worrying. “If you want anything from this ship, from me, you’re going to have to kill me first.”

The girl doesn’t even blink. “I don’t have to do anything but wait. You’re hurt, bad, you won’t be conscious for much longer. I can help you, but only if you give me your blaster.”

Dez snarls and aims directly at her face. “Not a chance.” He’s not stupid. She’s a scavenger with no honour and she’s after his Beskar.

The girl shrugs and disappears out of sight. Good.

She is right, though. Six and a half minute later, pain and blood-loss brings the darkness and the last thing Dez hears before falling unconscious is the sound of his blaster falling to the floor.

Dank farrik.

Death wasn’t supposed to be this uncomfortable. Dez had been certain the afterlife would greet him like the warrior hero he is and he’d reap his rewards for his dedication to his Creed, instead he feels horribly nauseous and in a lot of pain. Groaning, Dez squirms and discovers two things; he’s not dead, and he can’t really move.

Opening his eyes, Dez is relieved to see his HUD is still functional, but he’s not pleased to find himself staring up at some unfamiliar ceiling, and less so that he is apparently tied to some table in the messiest kitchen he’s ever seen.

Squirming and tugging at the restraints, Dez gasps with pain and goes limp when his leg and his shoulder flare up with pure agony.

“Lie still.” A voice says. It’s the girl. She appears in the doorway. “Your leg is broken in two places. I had to stitch up your shoulder, but move around and you will rip them out.”

Panting through the pain, Dez has to wait until he’s able to speak. “What… what do you want?”

His Beskar is still on him, she’s keeping him alive, neither make sense to him.

“Stop you from dying.”

Dez swallows, slightly worried he’s going to throw up. He’s so nauseous. “Why?”

The girl shrugs. “I’m bored.”

The answer is so ridiculous that Dez’ brain decides it is better for him to take a nap and he passes out.

Waking up, he finds his situation has not changed and no matter how much he threatens and insults her, the girl refuses to release him and seem immune to his fury. She offers him food and water, which he firmly refuses, and tends to his wound with a worrying amount of attention.

Dusk is settling outside the one window in the room when Dez is forced into humiliating himself. “Could you… please untie me?” He mutters when she changes the dressing on his leg.

“No.” She replies.

Closing his eyes, his face burning, Dez grits out the next words. “I need to… go.”

That catches her attention and she looks at him with a thoughtful frown. “Oh.” She considers it, then walks over to his side. “Fine. But I wouldn’t try anything stupid if I were you.”

“I won’t.” Dez lies.

She unties him and it takes no small amount of will-power to keep from wrapping his hands around her scrawny neck. If his shoulder hadn’t been hurting so bad, he would have done it. Instead, he lets her help him sit up and leans on her as he slowly hobbles towards the tiny refresher room he can barely fit into. The door closes after her once she’s backed out and gives him his privacy.

Dez had not been lying about his bladder, so he takes care of that first. The sweet relief almost combats the furious pain in his useless leg and his burning shoulder. Once that is done, he carefully washes his hands, gritting his teeth at the complaints from his shoulder and the unharmed leg having to hold all of his weight for this long.

Despite the discomfort, Dez carefully removes his helmet and splashes his face with some cold water too before drinking a bit. He looks at his barely visible refection in the dirty mirror, does not like how pale and exhausted he looks, and it’s a bit of a relief to put the helmet back on.

By the time he emerges from the refresher room, he half-expects the girl to be waiting for him with a weapon. If she was smart, that’s what she would have done. Which means, of course, she doesn’t.

The Zeltron is just standing by the kitchen door, arms crossed and looking bored.

Dez sighs and waves her over.

She walks over to him.

Wrapping his arm around her frail shoulders, she really is a tiny thing, the girl lets him use her as a crutch as he starts making his way towards the kitchen. Well, he makes her think he is heading back to the kitchen…

Once they are by the door, Dez shoves her into the room and hobbles as fast as possible towards the entrance door. He opens it and makes it outside.

There is nothing but desert as far as he can see. His HUD picks up on some small rocks in the distance, but no buildings, no ships, no nothing. Dez grits his teeth yet again, chooses a direction and starts hobbling.

After a little while, he glances back and sees the girl following him with an annoyed look on her face. She has a blaster in a holster on her hip, but she doesn’t seem to feel the need to draw it. She doesn’t say anything, she doesn’t try to take him down, merely follows at a safe distance.

It doesn’t take long before Dez understands why.

The red sand is difficult to walk on and his one good ankle gives in, causing him to fall and the impact, both to his shoulder and his broken leg, sends him screaming into unconsciousness.

When Dez reluctantly opens his eyes again, he finds himself staring at the damn ceiling again and a weak tug with his arms reveals he’s tied up again. Closing his eyes, he sighs.

“Told you.” The girl’s voice says.

Dez doesn’t reply. He’s going to enjoy shooting her.

When morning comes, she tries offering food to him again, but this time Dez declines because he really doesn’t feel like eating. In fact, he doesn’t feel like much of anything because he feels like crap.

Squirming on the table, Dez makes an annoyed sound. “Why is it so warm in here?” He rasps.

The Zeltron steps up next to him, her frown even deeper than usual and to his dazed surprise, she pulls down the collar of his shirt and places the back of her hand to his neck. Insolence aside, her cool touch feels good so he doesn’t threaten to skin her alive this time.

“You have a fever.” She states, then curses in some unfamiliar language and turns to examine the bandage on his shoulder. “The red sand. It creeps into the wounds and the infection kills more people than blaster shots does on this planet. I told you to behave, didn’t I? But, no, you had to be an idiot and roll around in the sand.”

Dez flinches slightly with pain when she carefully presses the bandage back down on the wound. “You didn’t tell me the sand was toxic.”

“Would you have believed me?”

Dez swallows. “No.”

“Exactly.” The girl moves down to check on his leg and Dez hates himself for whimpering with pain when she adjusts the splints. “I’m sorry,” she says, “but you messed up the splints when you fell.”

He doesn’t have the energy to get angry. Dez just feels… warm and tired and miserable… He wants to sleep. So he does.

It gets worse. A lot worse. The next time he wakes up, Dez feels like he’s on fire.

“It’s the fever.” The girl says, sounding worried now.

“Hurts.” Dez complains, arching a little off the table before slumping back down. His shoulder and leg are throbbing with pain.

The girl nods and walks over to his shoulder. “I’ll try changing the bandages again. Maybe that’ll help a little.”

It does. But not for long. Dez is burning up. Sweat is soaking his body and he can feel drop after drop slide down his face in the suffocating confinement of his helmet.

He tries to sleep, but he keeps waking up as his body howls with pain. And when he does sleep, his dreams are horrible. At one point, he dreams that Paz walks into the room and Dez feels a rush of hope but his son is only there to tell him he’s glad he’s dying and Dez wakes up shivering so hard he accidentally bites his tongue and nearly chokes on his own blood.

That night is the longest and most horrible experience he’s been through and the morning doesn’t start any better.

“You have to tell him I’m sorry.” Dez tells the girl, shaking and sweating and dying. “Promise me you’ll find him and tell him… tell him I said I was sorry…. Please…”

“Who?” She asks.

“My son.” Dez manages to press the words out. “Paz. Paz Vizla. Big boy. You’ll know… when you see him.” It’s getting harder and harder to talk. “Tell him. Please.”

The girl nods and now there is no trace of annoyance on her face, merely concern.

It hurts, it hurts so much, and he’s so warm. He’s burning up. Dez is being boiled alive from the inside. He spends most of the day just shaking and sweating and half-mumbling to himself.

“You really should drink something…” The girl says, almost pleads.

Dez swallows. His throat hurts. “Take… it off…”

“What?” The girl stands up to lean over him. “I didn’t hear-”

“My helmet.” Dez whispers, too weak to do much else. “Take it off.”

Awkwardly, she fumbles around the edges and carefully eases his helmet off. She puts the valuable Beskar aside without a second glance and merely goes to get a cup filled with water.

It’s a bit weird to be without his helmet in front of a stranger again, it’s been so many years since he’s done that, but Dez is too desperate for water to care.

“Here.” The girl returns to his side, slides her hand under his neck and helps him lift his head so he can drink.

The water feels wonderfully cool, but it hurts to swallow.

Dez gives up after a couple of big gulps and turns his face away. “Can’t…”

“You can.” The girl insists, tightening her grip on his neck to make him turn his face back. “Drink.”

He drinks.

But he continues to burn inside. How is it possible to feel this warm, to feel this much pain in his wounds, and not perish already?

In the middle of the night, he starts to freeze. By Mandalore, he’s cold. Dez has never felt this cold in his entire life. He’s shaking so bad the entire table is rattling. Even after the girl places three blankets over him, he continues to freeze.

It all becomes a bit of a blur after that. He remembers bits and pieces, can hear himself talking and her replying, she places a cool cloth on his forehead, Pre appears and asks him why he’s such a weakling, he even thinks he sees his wife at one point, dreams and reality meld, the only thing that never stops is the pain.

He’s dead. Dez Vizla is dead. It’s the only reason he can think of as to why the pain is gone.

A faint throbbing of pain in his leg contradicts him.

Blinking, forcing his eyes open, Dez finds himself staring up at that damn ceiling again.

He feels horrible, but he’s not burning up or impersonating an icicle. He’s alive.

A faint sound catches his attention and Dez turns his head. He is a bit surprised to find the girl next to him. She’s asleep, sitting in a chair but with her arms folded to be a pillow on the table next to him and her head resting by his ribs. She’s been watching over him the entire time?

Dez swallows, his throat feels like he’s devoured the desert outside, and lifts his hand… Wait, he’s not tied down anymore? No, apparently not. He runs his hand carefully over the girl’s dark hair.

She snaps awake and bolts up into an upright position.

Dez smiles a little, amused, but his hand falls to the table as he’s too weak to do much else.

“You’re awake.” The girl states, almost glaring at him.

“I’m awake.” Dez confirms in a hoarse whisper.

She gets up and brings more water. Once again, her hand behind his neck helps him to drink and he exhales with relief when he can lie back and feel the cool liquid trail down his body.

“The fever is gone. You’re going to survive.” The girl informs him.

Dez considers this. “Am I trapped here?”

She shrugs. “The pirate ship got picked up by their friends not long after I dragged you out. I’ve checked out the damage on yours and, well, it’s going to take some time for me to fix it.”

Frowning, Dez looks over at her. “Why would you do that?”

“Because I’m bored.” There is no fake modesty or hint of it being a joke.

It brings a faint smile to Dez’ face. This is one really odd nugget of a girl. “My name is Dez.”

“I know.” She replies. “You like to say it a lot. Especially when you’re threatening someone.”

It’s true, so he doesn’t bother apologizing for it. “What’s your name?”

“My name is Liita.”

The fever is gone, but he feels horrible and it takes days before he’s able to do anything but sit. Dez is not pleased to be lying around like deadweight while the little girl goes out to work, hauling around heavy things and being useful. With one arm in a sling, Dez uses a crutch and is able to hobble out with her on the fifth day.

He can’t do much but sit on a crate and watch her work, but that is what he usually does with other Mandalorians too so it’s not that big of a change for him. At least he’s there to supervise and pretend to know what she’s doing while she works to bring his ship back to life.

Liita doesn’t talk much, but she likes to listen to him talk. That works really well because Dez likes to talk. She’s not fond of cooking, so he shows her some tricks to improve the flavour of things and that almost brings a smile to her face. She tends to his wounds and calls him a big baby when he complains so he threatens to place her boots on the top shelf where she won’t reach them.

One evening they are sitting outside the house, looking up at the stars, each eating from their bulky metal cups, Liita asks about Paz. It seems like Dez had been talking about him a lot when he was feverish.

Embarrassed, Dez looks down into this cup, stirs the content. “I messed up and I’m not good at apologizing.”

“You should.” Liita says, frank as always. “Apologise, I mean. If you messed up, he deserves one.”

“I don’t think he will forgive me.”

“Maybe not. But you still owe him an apology.” Liita sighs and gets up. “I’m going to bed. Tomorrow we start on the engine.”

Dez nods. “Understood.” He lingers for a little while longer, staring up at the stars and strangely at ease with the pain in his leg. Maybe that’s Davarax secret? How he makes everyone always like him? Dez had considered his ease with apologizing a weakness, but now… he wonders.

They fall into a comfortable routine, sharp words and half-hearted bickering flying back and forth, until the day comes when Dez’ ship comes to life with a soft shake and a rumble.

Hands on her hips, Liita stands next to where Dez is sitting in the pilot seat. “That sounds about right.”

There is initial relief at feeling the ship coming alive despite how Liita had to re-shape the entire nose of the craft and re-build bits of the cockpit, but then the relief fades and Dez looks over at Liita. She is looking at her work with a critical eye. “What are you going to do now?” He asks.

Liita shrugs. “I don’t know. Wait for things to stop being boring again, I guess.”

Dez turns the seat a little, making a face as his broken leg sends several fierce jabs of pain through him, to really look at her. “Come with me.”

Raising an eyebrow, Liita turns her face to look at him in return. “Why?”

“You’re the best mechanic I’ve ever seen.” Dez replies. “My clan could really need someone like you. I can promise you you’ll never be bored again.” He clears his throat. “And… maybe you could help me with Paz?”

Crossing her arms, Liita frowns. “Promise me you’ll bring me back here if I change my mind?”

Dez holds out his hand. “I give you my word.”

Liita hesitates for two more seconds, then she reaches out and takes his hand.

Dez grins and turns to activate the ship again. “Oh. And by the way, you can’t tell anyone I took my helmet off.”

Liita shrugs. “Okay.”

And, yeah, things were never boring after that.

#the mandalorian his son and the storm trooper #What if #Bonus chapter #Dez Vizla #meets his match

45 notes · View notes

silveryfairy · 3 years

Note

hey man if it's not too much trouble, could you give us a brief rundown of the Nocturnes? It's just, every morning I wake up and there's a new one, and I Care everyone in this establishment a lot though I don't really know them, thank you kindly have a nice day

let my preface this by saying: aayushi, i love you, and your enthusiasm and interest for the things i create never ceases to bring me joy. you are the kind of friend i think everyone should have and i say that completely genuinely outside of this bit.

i say that as an apology in advance for what i’m about to unleash upon you, because what you’re going to see is the product of my friend @himepapillon and i’s absolute BRAINROT and what comes of it when not only two people make an oc universe from scratch but what happens when we then have to explain that universe to other people

you are in no way required to retain this information as to be completely honest me and jeremie haven’t fully either and we’re the ones who MADE this shitshow. below is the shoddy family tree i lovingly crafted in ms paint

let us begin.

for starters, i’ll specify some things:

1. not every oc on this chart is mine, as it’s a collaboration between me and jeremie - the koenig family and bishop family belong to faer but the rest is all me baby! for the sake of your soul i will only be going into my half of this Mess

2. the universe this takes place in is a pretty wacky and silly one, just, like, Slightly removed from reality. these characters are all completely batshit insane and do things that no human being probably should. it’s all portrayed critically, as the general concept of this whole thing is “the goings-on of a bunch of unhinged corrupt rich people”. we kind of flip flop on how seriously stuff is played but if i had to slap a genre on this it’d be, like, black comedy drama. i know a lot of these concepts sound kinda fucked to write but that’s just because i’m trying to describe them in a SOMEWHAT concise way without going into Super Introspective mode

the nocturnes are an incredibly influential and rich family in the uk that tends to produce very influential and rich people. they’re also all a little bit insane. the main characters of this Saga are the sons of desmond and xanthes, the family’s resident Power Couple and biggest figureheads. they suck ass but that will become apparent the second i talk about their children.

from oldest to youngest, the nocturne boys are:

ichor nocturne, 25 - the eldest, ichor was disowned from the household when he was 18 for unruly behavior, sent to live alone on a farm so he couldn’t tarnish his family’s image any further. since then, you’d think the isolation has driven him a bit mad - he’s a very prolific cotton farmer and has been doing astonishingly well for himself, running his farm on his own with only his parents’ inheritance as help. ...that, and, of course, the blood of the people he executes to keep his crops growing - or so he believes. he moonlights as an executioner in the small town over, exterminating the ‘pests’ of the city. despite his newfound violence, he still routinely checks in on his siblings, finding ways to mysteriously end up at their door to pay visits. the older brother instinct still hasn’t left

icarus nocturne, 23 - the second eldest (only by technicality, as he is a twin), icarus is the family’s golden child! but not in terms of business or anything, oh no - icarus is a famous heartthrob teen (sorta) musician! he’s been in the limelight since he was a little boy, being an actor as a small child and getting into music as he grew. his general Look(tm), accompanied by infectiously happy rave music, is a trademark cutesy mask over his face with oversized clothing - meant to express as much energy as possible as he bounces about the stage. in reality, he lives a life as forced and controlled as possible by virtue of... living the fucked up life of a child star. but his parents have someone to take the fall - so, what of his twin?

achilles nocturne, 23 - icarus’ younger twin, which wouldn’t mean much... in any family but this one. achilles has had it drilled into his head since the beginning that he was a mistake next to icarus, to the point where legally, he does not exist. following icarus beginning his career, achilles was unpersoned completely - living in the family’s basement with the height of his education being for a very specific purpose... needing to be icarus’ body double on tours and for paparazzi - after all, they can’t have icarus’ purity tainted by all those clamboring fans! it’s a godawful situation. on the bright side, though, achilles has found a hobby where he can be himself: twitch streaming! yes really. under the name of 1upanonymous, hidden under a mask just like his brother, achilles at least has a fanbase that can love him for who he is! ...uh, kind of.

tomasine “tommy” nocturne, 16 - the youngest of the bunch, and it says a lot about his siblings’ capabilities that he’s the technical heir to the nocturnes’ various businesses and fortune. tommy is just a feral 16 year old that doesn’t give two shits about any fame or fortune, he just wants to party and drink and have fun like any other kid his age! he’s rebellious, loud, and charmingly annoying (to his brothers anyway), and has no real care for the gravity of his family’s situations beyond finding it annoying that they want him to be all PRIM and PROPER and BUSINESSY EEWWWWW. he’s just a funny loud little child trying to live his best life. loves his brothers fiercely

already a mess of people. and really, all you need to know about or really keep in mind are those four: the upcoming characters are largely just side ones we came up with because we thought it’d be funny to flesh out this fucked up family more. so let’s get into the anatra branch of the family - headed by jael nocturne, xanthes’ brother and the siblings’ uncle

jael anatra-nocturne, who i am not giving an age for my own sanity trying to decipher this fucking timeline - a crude and playful uncle, jael is someone the nocturne boys either love (icarus, tommy) or hate (achilles, ichor). constantly joking, as he expresses affection with loving insults - kind of a money-driven asshole, but a lovable one - he’s a career politician and met his current husband, joaquin, on the job. or, well... no longer current, because jael’s funny life of debauchery, toxic masculinity, and making fun of his nephews, came to an abrupt end when he was assassinated on live television. yipes!

joaquin anatra-nocturne, who also does not get an age - jael’s former secretary and current widow, joaquin is the local wine uncle. im not sure if that’s a classification but it is now, because he is one. an unapologetic gold-digger, he (publicly) took jael’s death frighteningly well, and is now living his best life with a revolving door of new boyfriends. his relationship with jael was a genuine and very loving one, and joaquin IS devastated by his death, but both of them just found the bit of pretending to be this loveless gold digger/politician couple very funny, and being as suspicious as possible around his husband’s death is exactly what jael would have wanted joaquin to do

taddeo anatra-nocturne, 14 - the youngest child of these two, a shy little boy with big Child In A Horror Movie energies. makes potions in the backyard and probably decorates his clothes with animal bones n stuff when he’s older. despite this he’s pretty harmless, nice and fiercely loyal - tommy especially thinks he’s fun and likes to hang out with him at family gatherings - just so long as you look past the creepy dolls he likes to talk to and fires he likes to set. especially close with jael and wants to be a miniature version of him, buuut still being a shy tween taddeo hasn’t been able to act on that much.

dailon anatra-nocturne, 20 - the adopted second child of jael and joaquin, dailon is a moody and unstable delinquent that was snatched up by them just as he was about to age out of foster care. while he has a chill ‘cool-older-even-though-he’s-younger-cousin’ demeanor, the tension when he’s around his parents - jael specifically - can be cut with a knife. dailon hates his dad: ‘someone who expresses affection with insults and jokes and likes seeing people pissed at him’ and ‘someone who’s volatile, short-tempered, and sullen after living in a foster home most his life’ are just as bad of a combination as you’d expect. dailon gets himself into a lot of trouble, and is an overall very self-centered prick, but we’ll get more on that in a bit.

HELL FAMILY...2!!! that’s the last of the families to cover, buuuut there are still some other names on that list - mostly connected to dailon. this is REAL “just going on in the background” shit that you also do not need to know whatsoever (except for mitzi she’s pretty important she’s just down here for organization purposes) - i just like to play god and make characters get into drama.

[tw: cheating, unhealthy relationships, stalking]

mitzi “moon” altberg, 23 - achilles must feel very far away by now, but we’re back to him for a second! mitzi is his ex-girlfriend he met online, a fan-to-employee-to-lover and one of the maybe two people outside of the family achilles has shown his real face to. however, achilles growing up deeply unstable - between his parents’ abuse, having spotlights on him and adoring fans both as icarus’ body double and as a streamer, and in general not really growing up to be any kind of well developed human being - made this relationship a complete disaster. he grew obsessive and controlling - and when she tried to ignore him, he broke his one rule (to never go outside without permission) to find the hotel she was staying at in real life and show up to confront her. the incident was completely covered up, both by the nocturnes and with their connections, and so mitzi was forced to stay silent. this entire thing is based on this song! as time heals wounds, though, mitzi will end up doing pretty well for herself and putting achilles behind her - even getting a new boyfriend, jared!

reynard fiala, 20 - dailon’s (ex-)boyfriend, who he’s enraveled in his own weird soap opera subplot with. reynard is a relatively chill person, with an interest in art and taxidermy - just as morbid as dailon’s brother, but in a more. Normal way. genuinely a sweetheart who does not deserve what happens to them: getting cheated on with dailon’s best friend. yipes^2! while it's earth shattering in the moment, all reynard will really want to do come some time to process is to move on and for him and dailon both to heal in peace... far away from eachother (which is easier said than done since taddeo thinks reynard is super cool and loves having him over, the awkwardness between them and his brother be damned)

jared summers, 21 - the most normal person here. a longterm best friend of dailon’s, and yes, the very same one i just mentioned. he’s not the sharpest knife in the drawer - what we in the industry would call a himbo if his dumbassery didn’t cause very real damage - who had been pining for dailon for years and him dating was no deterrent, and dailon, thinking the world revolves around him as he tends to do, accepted jared’s confession so they just kinda started dating on the side. jared has the moral backbone of a pool noodle, and even after it causes dailon’s relationship with reynard to fall apart, will need a wholeass intervention to be staged to make them both realize just how shitty they’re being. after that, though, jared will end that mess and be on his way to becoming a better person himself - with the help of a sweet girl he’s met online.

jared and mitzi dating in the future is the most contrived thing on the planet but just hear me out that it’ll be HILARIOUS for achilles to check in on his ex-girlfriend and find she’s dating his cousin’s best friend, who said cousin was apparently dating on the side. very small world, it is.

anyway, thank you if you’ve somehow stuck around to read this entire thing - this isn’t even getting into jeremie’s half of this whole ordeal, which includes some of these fellas’ friends and partners, as well as more crazy rich people nonsense. it’s been very fun to think about and i do love it all dearly, even if putting it all together it’s SUCH a mess.

we don’t intend to make anything Legit out of this, it’s honestly just a fun way to pass the time. it’s the adult equivalent of playing dollhouse. in our minds this is like a 20 season soap opera but actually explaining it to other people it’s just like this

but thank you again for letting me babble i hope it was somewhat entertaining! and again, godspeed if you managed to read this much XD

#nocturnes #ichor nocturne #icarus nocturne #achilles nocturne #tommy nocturne #jael anatra nocturne #joaquin anatra nocturne #taddeo anatra nocturne #dailon anatra nocturne #mitzi moon #jared summers #reynard fiala

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engagemachine · 4 years

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I joined a tdkJoker gc and we were talking about fics. A lot of the stories they read are joker dub con. I didn’t knock it because that’s what they read. And anything with the joker in it is going to be dark fiction. But I brought up your stories & how much I loved them but they said it romanticized CSA. I don’t understand this accusation because the whole point of your story is to show the toxicity of Taylor and jokers relationship. Idk what to do or say now but every joker story is dark.

OMG. That’s okay, bby, really. When I tell you I don’t interact with probably 90% of the Joker fans on this website... it’s for a reason. It’s all good. And it’s truly none of my business what other people think of me.

This isn’t the first time I’m hearing about this, and I’m honestly not surprised some people would say that... but I do think it’s ironic since there is an egregious amount of romanticization/fetishization of the character of the Joker in this fandom, so much so to the point where I personally find it a little disturbing. That’s my opinion and I don’t really feel the need to say anything more about it. It’s not my intention to ruffle feathers, and everyone is entitled to write what they want to write. I’m not going to police other people’s work and I would hope that other people don’t feel the need to police mine. We’re all adults, here, there’s no need to tear other people down simply because our opinions on a fictional character differ.

I will be the first to say that my writing is extremely disturbing and not palatable to the casual reader, and I’m very open about the dark nature of my work and the sensitivity of the topics I write about. Ultimately, I cannot control how other people interpret my work -- that’s on them -- but to refer to my work as “romanticization of CSA” is an egregious oversight, and it deeply saddens me that people would misinterpret my writing as such given the amount of time, effort, and mental energy I have put into articulating what I hope is an incredibly realistic and poignant story about the effects of lifelong trauma/PTSD in an adolescent girl, and will eventually touch on the incredible amount of resilience and power that women hold inside themselves, a power they cannot be stripped of.

Burn has garnered a lot more attention than I ever expected -- I’ve had more longtime readers crawl out of the woodwork to introduce themselves and express their enthusiasm for my writing than I’ve ever had before -- and after the events that transpire at the end of chapter seven, it revealed to me that a lot more people were reading my work than I initially thought.

I think the situation would be different if I was the kind of author who was like, “uwu Joker is baby :’(” and “I just want the Joker to love/fuck me :(” here on my blog... but I’m not. And I never have been. If that’s how you feel about the Joker, that’s okay and that’s on YOU, and though I tend to find that insensitive and slightly immature given the nature of the character’s sordid history... that’s my own business, and I don’t sit here on a pedestal on my blog and talk down to other writers who do that. In fact, I don’t talk about it at all, and I don’t care to. I can only speak for myself when I say that, and I make absolutely no qualms about how disturbing/nasty I think the Joker is. I enjoy writing about him solely for the fact that he has absolutely no reservations -- about anything -- and there is so much freedom of expression in that. This is a villain I have enjoyed sinking my teeth into for so many years because there’s so much meat there. I keep tearing off more to chew and it’s never enough; just when I think I’ve found the depth’s of the Joker’s depravity, I always find he’s willing to sink just a little bit deeper.

I think when people talk about the “romanticization” in Burn, there is a severe lack of critical thinking that has gone into that statement (truly, I do not say this to offend) because Taylor does romanticize the Joker: but it’s because she’s been gaslighted, drugged, and psychologically manipulated into believing the Joker cares about her. Additionally, because the majority of the story is told in her POV, she does view the Joker through a set of lens that are incredibly rose-tinted. For that reason, she is an unreliable narrator.

What happens at the end of chapter seven is unquestionably rape. Even though she “wants” it, she’s still a minor, and therefore she cannot consent. But I also believe her age is rather arbitrary at this point, because even if she were eighteen (a legal, consenting adult in the United States) or even if she was nineteen, or twenty, I would still consider the events at the end of the chapter rape just because her mind has been so psychologically warped by the Joker for so many years. What is consent to a person who is straight up delusional? For all intents and purposes, you shouldn’t believe a thing that comes out of this girl’s mouth, even if her intentions are pure (and because it’s Taylor, they usually are).

Additionally, one of the main reasons why the scene at the end of the chapter is told from the Joker’s POV is so that you, as the reader, do not see Taylor romanticize the rape. That was very important to me to make that distinction. You only see it from the Joker’s POV, who regards the violation as him simply taking what he’s owed. That doesn’t mean in the future I will not show scenes of that nature from her POV, but given that it was their “first time”, so to speak, I wanted to strip any thoughts of romanticization out of the picture entirely. When Taylor tells the Joker she loves him, it is incredibly heartbreaking as much as it is fascinating. We’ve known that she’s loved him since forever, pretty much, so for her to express her love to him in the context of this particular moment, it’s horrifying.

And I find this dynamic so incredibly spellbinding just because it thrills me to write about a character’s involvement with the Joker throughout three different stages of her life: childhood, adolescence, and adulthood. I’ll be the first to admit it’s very hard to imagine the Joker we know and love in the comics and in TDK interacting with a teenager -- I just don’t see it happening -- but that’s exactly what thrills me about writing this dynamic, and why I created Clockwork; I love putting the Joker in scenarios you wouldn’t normally get to see him in.

Unfortunately, because of the nature of this content, there are always going to be people out there who misinterpret it. I also think it can be hard to appreciate a story like this when you’re not privy to the entire picture, which is to say that, as the reader, you don’t know how it will end, and it’s frightening seeing Taylor crawl further and further down the rabbit hole (no pun intended) and not knowing whether she will receive the freedom and catharsis she so painfully deserves.

I’m always open to discussing these topics -- as I said, it’s incredibly important to me to handle them with a certain level of tact and sensitivity -- and my readers know that nothing I write is ever for the ‘shock value’ of it, or to ‘romanticize’ CSA, which I find incredibly insulting given my own experiences and those of some of my close friends.

In closing: you really do not have to say anything to these people -- they are entitled to their opinions/thoughts/feelings -- and please don’t feel like you have to come to my defense. I have a handful of really incredible supporters out there (and some amazing friends) and I also know there’s a lot of silent readers out there who support my work, too. Thank you so much for your concern, anon, but I promise it’s okay, and I do really appreciate you reaching out. Please feel free to do so off anon, if you feel comfortable doing so, as I’d be really interested in talking to you personally. No pressure though, and thanks for your message. <3

#anonymous #asks #Burn #tw: rape #tw: CSA

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angstyaches · 4 years

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Hey can you write something where Rin feels really shitty all day, but no one notices until she’s talking to someone and suddenly faints or something. If you can’t do it, it’s totally fine Thanks!

Hey anon! I’m sorry it took me so long to get to this request, but thank you very much for sending it! Sick girls are a lot harder for me to write than sick boys, but Rin deserves the love just as much as any of them.

This is UNRELATED to the current ongoing Ouija Board series, and takes place before Shayne being motion sick on the train. (You’ll see where I place it in the masterlist.) Fun fact: The friends-helping-spaced-out-friend-find-their-desk was inspired by something that actually happened to me in college.

CW: anxiety, exertion, academic pressure, bullying, toxic friendship, fainting, sickness

Rin had honestly made an attempt to look at what number desk belonged to her on the way into the exam hall. The problem was that she’d focused so hard on the task of looking at the busy diagram of names and numbers, that she’d forgotten to complete the task of internalising the information she actually needed. Now she was wandering down an aisle at random, hoping to light upon her own name as she glanced at the tags on front of the desks.

She came to a stop eventually, her heart sinking into her gut, sweat gathering in her palms. She’d stayed up until almost four a.m., but she hadn’t thought she’d be quite this tired and unable to focus. Her legs ached and her chest and throat felt tight, but she shook it off as just tension pooling in her body in anticipation for the exam.

Rin jumped as hands touched both her elbows, and she almost yelped right there in the exam hall. She glanced from side to side to see that it was just Charlie at her left elbow, and Shayne at her right.

“Where are you off to, idiot?” Shayne asked. “Your desk’s at the other side of the hall, a few rows behind mine.”

“Oh,” she said, numbly nodding her head and fidgeting with her pencil case. Her throat stung when she spoke, and then again when she attempted to swallow.

“What, did you revise so hard your brain came loose?”

“Shayne,” Charlie hissed, but Rin didn’t mind. It was the first time she’d been insulted by a friend and actually felt somewhat warmed by it. Charlie’s and Shayne’s hands felt so strong under her elbows that she knew she could have leaned a lot harder into them than she was currently.

Her feet felt a little steadier now, though they had nothing to do but go on auto-pilot for a few minutes. The boys even sidestepped her through a random row of desks for no reason other than to avoid walking her past Katie. Rin’s head might have been floating somewhere up in the clouds, but she was present enough to realise what they’d done, and she had a silly little smile on her face by the time they lowered her into her seat.

“Hey,” Charlie grinned, crouching on the floor next to her desk. Rin blinked and tried to focus on his face, tried to let his bright blue eyes and his smile ground her a bit. “You’ve got this, okay?”

Rin nodded, swallowing thickly despite a harsh scratching sensation in her throat. She wanted to say thank you, and maybe offer some encouraging words in return, but couldn’t choke anything up. She just wanted to put her head down and have everyone in the hall be quiet. She twirled the strands of hair she’d left loose from her ponytail, after not feeling bothered to braid it or put it up in buns. She couldn’t even remember if she’d washed it yesterday or the day before, because she’d barely slept or looked at anything but books in that time. She tugged at the streak of white hair at the side of her face, wondering how much whiter it would go once these exams were over. She couldn’t remember thinking about much else, but suddenly the bell rang, and the papers were being handed out, and Rin’s world was spinning, and it felt like the beginning of the end.

Oh, god, what the hell just happened?

Rin staggered up from her desk, glancing around as a hundred other students got up from theirs. Her head was absolutely swimming, her throat ached, and her shirt had become clammy against her skin since the exam started. The only evidence that she’d actually written something in the past two hours was the fact that her fingers and wrist ached from holding her pen.

She shakily picked up her things and shuffled a few rows back. The air in the hall felt thick, and everyone seemed to be far too close for comfort, no matter how much she tried to sidestep them as they left their desks. Luckily, Shayne hadn’t left his yet, and he looked up in surprise as Rin pressed her hands on his desk.

“Well?” he asked, tucking his pen behind his ear. “How’d it go, wiz kid?”

“How did – what?” Rin lowered her head. It felt like waves were crashing in her ears, making the sounds of the exam hall fade in and out. Her eyes didn’t feel like they were all the way open.

“The exam,” Shayne said. “Sylvia Plath came up, like you guessed. I was surprised you didn’t start jumping up and down.”

“Plath,” Rin mumbled, pressure building in her head as she tried to focus. I am sliver and exact. No, not sliver; silver. Fuck. Had she written any of that on her paper? Had she written “sliver” instead of “silver”?

She pulled her glasses off and pressed her hand to Shayne’s desk again, leaning even more weight on her arms.

“Come on,” Shayne sighed. “We all know you have nothing to worry about, Rin.”

“No, no, Shayne, I-I –” Rin grunted as her legs went out from under her. She managed to catch herself somewhat on the edge of the desk, gripping the wood and pressing her forehead to the backs of her trembling hands. Her glasses clattered across the desk, her knees aching sharply as they hit the floor.

She felt hands on her almost straight away, and she panicked, thinking she was being pulled to her feet. No, she wanted to say, but all that came out was a whimper. She was just going to fall again; she was sure of it. Her fingers were starting to slip from the desk, so she would drop like a ragdoll if someone tried to hoist her up.

“I’ve got you, relax,” they were saying, and she no longer felt like she was being tugged. Just supported. “Rin? Holy shit. Holy shit, you’re burning up. Why didn’t you say something?”

Rin mumbled wordlessly, feeling a shoulder move in to rest against her cheek. She leaned into it and winced at the sudden relief of not having to hold her head up anymore. She eased her fingers off the edge of the desk, arms slumping heavily into her lap. She almost laughed at how ridiculous she must have looked, like she was out-of-body and watching someone perform physical comedy.

“Oh my god, Rin?” A soft, slightly pinched voice came through the white noise. Charlie Bear. “Shayne, what – what happened?”

“I don’t know, she just dropped. Can you get some of these idiots to back off?”

Shayne, she thought, and she tried to say his name because his voice sounded so close, but her own sounded like it was coming from somewhere else. Someone else.

“I don’ – don’t feel well.”

“Oh, you think?” Shayne leaned in a little closer, his body warm and soft and solid as even more of the energy leaked out of Rin’s.

“Is she okay?” came another voice that Rin recognised, and it made her feel chilly. She suddenly wondered if she was taking up way too much space, causing a scene. She probably hadn’t needed to faint at all. Maybe she’d just been desperate for some attention. What was she like, lying on the floor with some boy holding her up?

“I think me and Charlie can handle this, thank you very much, Katie.”

“Just get her up already,” Katie hissed. “People are staring.”

Am I making a show of myself, Katie?

“Just fuck off, okay?”

Rin turned her head to bury her face in Shayne’s chest, wishing it would all go away, wishing she could just sleep, wishing she could get back the past two hours and stop panicking that she’d failed the exam from lack of concentration, wishing the room wasn’t so damn hot, or – or was it getting colder?

She opened her eyes as a cool breeze blew soft baby hairs across her forehead, sighing as the was easing into a sitting position. The detail of the tiny stones in the tarmac was so vivid it made her eyes hurt, and the flaked green paint of the bench was almost psychedelic. Lowering her eyes dizzily, she realised her glasses were back on her face, but she was missing a shoe. When she glanced around for it, she saw it in Shayne’s lap as he sat with her head against his shoulder.

“Wha’ – what happened?” Rin mumbled.

“It’s okay,” Shayne said. “You got a bit wobbly back there, but Charlie’s just bringing his dad’s car around. We’re gonna take you home.”

Tears stung Rin’s eyes and she began to compulsively shake her head back and forth, which only made her dizzier. She fought back a sob, knowing how much it was going to hurt her already aching throat, but it bubbled up from her chest anyway, dry and deep and whistling.

“Hey, it’s alright –”

“No, no, no – no, no – it’s not okay,” she whined, squeezing her eyes shut and willing the ground to stop rocking back and forth. She gasped for air between words, feeling like her lungs and throat were being alternatingly squeezed and prodded. “F-failed – failed the exam – I’m gonna – I’m not – I can’t –”

“Okay, look, this probably won’t sink in right now, but you’re gonna be fine, Rin. It’s just the winter exams; they don’t count for shit.”

Rin whimpered, the sound tearing at her throat.

“And, look, I’m sure you did fine. I mean – you, functioning at ten percent, are still better than most people at one hundred.”

Shayne was right; it didn’t sink in right then, but the tone of his tone was enough to calm her a bit anyway, and she turned to press her face harder against his shoulder to block out the afternoon sunlight, clamping a hand on his knee, just to have something to hold onto. Her arm trembled with the tightening aches setting into her muscles.

By the time Charlie came to take her from the bench to his car, she was almost unconscious again, and couldn’t lift her leg by herself when Charlie asked her to. He ended up lifting it into his hand so he could slide her lost shoe back on, and somewhere in her fever-addled brain, Rin wondered how she’d gotten even luckier than Cinderella, to have not just one, but two Prince Charmings to take care of her.

She wobbled and groaned when they stood her up, but at least the anxiety had quietly crawled away, leaving her sighing gratefully every time a hand cupped her elbow, or nudged at the small of her back to make her change direction.

When she finally settled in the back of Charlie’s car, Rin’s bones had more or less turned to jelly. Shayne positioned himself with his back against the door and let her put her head on his chest. He put a hand to her shoulder to make sure she didn’t flop over with the motion of the car. She opened her eyes at one point, gaze falling upon Charlie’s reflection in the rear-view mirror as he frowned slightly, focusing on the road.

I am silver and exact, she thought, closing her eyes and letting herself drop off.

#rin #swallow the world #exam stress #tw stress #tw fainting #tw bullying #tw toxic friendship #sickfic

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the-scavengergirl · 4 years

Text

Be Delicate ( not the title )

Haven’t written a Reylo or any Fanfic in a hot minute. Thought I wrote this for someone, perhaps it was just for me. Who the fuck knows. And I’m teetering on maybe seeing my way out of the fandom, still not sure. So if you like this. Thank you, if not, that is fine as well.

Per usual I own no one. Not that characters, especially not the lovely Daisy or Adam. And certainly not the horrid song exile feat that got this stuck in my brain by miss T.swift.feat. the glorious Bon Iver So that being said. Lets carry on. Also some parts are memories so there are no confusion. Also may post this on AO3 same pen name <3 on with the Bullshit. Also the pic that was inspo isn’t mine, it was a screenshot from the movie clip.

It didn’t take her long. She’d always spot him out in a crowded room. It didn’t matter how many there were she’d always see him over everyone else. But it didn’t appear to go both ways. She’d been four drinks in when his head turned, the girl at his hip catching where his attention had gone off to, and everything came to a stand still.

I can see you standin', honey With his arms around your body Laughin' but the joke's not funny at all And it took you five whole minutes To pack us up and leave me with it Holdin' all this love out here in the hall

And she’d never hated him more in that moment. She had to press her fingers against her face to look at him properly in the lighting, the flickering catching the frame of the stupid issued glasses. The way the lights gave his nearly translucent skin an odd sort of glow. Never before had he looked more perfect.

She was already three steps ahead of his one as he came towards her, her head shaking slightly beneath the hat Poe had found her, stating it would go in the ridiculous outfit she was currently mucking around in, Her drink pressed so tightly to her mouth she was sure the glass would shatter. “ Please don’t--we can’t do this anymore Ben. There is nothing more to talk about.”

Rey watched the way his jaw shifted. Sometimes it was the only way to tell his mood, as he could be a man of few words. But Ben Solo was annoyed, he didn’t like being silenced. But they’d been down this road too many times. And she was done.

“ It is quite obvious what has happened, and I’m tired of it. You’ve played me as a fool, and I let myself believe you actually had feelings for a girl like me. I believed you Ben--”

I think I've seen this film before And I didn't like the ending You're not my homeland anymore So what am I defendin' now? You were my town Now I'm in exile seein' you out I think I've seen this film before

The tears were never part of the game. She thought when she and Poe had shared a bottle of wine prior to coming, and his grand idea of changing her style that had her ready to face the real issue...Ben Solo.

But he always had a way of looking about her that made her feel as if he were undressing her. And not always in a way that sent shivers down her spine. As if she were to be reprimanded at any given moment, the way she had been time and time again back in the home and she hated it, because he knew that about her. He knew everything about her. She’d laid herself open for him like an open book, and he’d thrown it in her face. Just as he’d promised not to.

“ You’re running Rey. You know you can’t run forever. Not from me.”

It was as if Poe could see her panic, pulling her from the place where she shook, and yet remained rooted in place, unable to walk away. Because Poe knew, she’d never be able to walk away. She did have that power, no matter how toxic their relationship had grown. And their last fight had done her in, Ben’s words a seething venom that even Poe felt hit extra hard, especially hard when he knew where she’d come from, promising to love her, to fix all the pieces that had been broken. Split wide open.

I can see you starin', honey Like he's just your understudy Like you'd get your knuckles bloody for me Second, third, and hundredth chances Balancin' on breaking branches Those eyes add insult to injury

“ You come from nothing. You’re nothing.” She couldn’t describe the sound that left her, only the feel of the glass as it slipped from her fingers, shattering to pieces, one shard catching her in the pad of her foot, due to the stupid sandals that Poe said would be a smart purchase.

Her body pitched backwards as if she’d been thrown, an invisible force propelling her away from him as she felt something along the plains of her cheeks, doting them like the constellation like freckles she hated so. *Tears*.

“But you said--”

“Who the fuck cares what I said Rey. What about the things you said. What about the promises you’ve made, and broken. I’m done. I told you that. Rey it’s been 6 months. I told you, it was time to let old things die, and you couldn’t--you wouldn’t do it so I’m done. We are done. In case you didn’t notice that one.”

Of course he’d use her past against her. The one thing he promised he’d never do. If there was one thing Rey wasn’t proud of it was how she’d treated him. In the end. She knew in the process of finding herself she’d treated him horribly. His childhood had been difficult as well, and perhaps after their first breakup, when they stood shouting at one another, anger radiating off of them in waves as they stood in the rain outside his uncles they should have called it quits. But they were electric, like two magnets, when things were bad nothing could bring them together. But when things were good, they were drawn together so tightly, it was like they seeped into each others every being.

“ Yes--I’ve noticed Ben. You’ve made that very clear. In every text. In every call. In every attempt at getting into touch with you. Yes this is some plot, such a great one, poor Rey, so desperate she had to involve your Mother.”

Rey hadn’t realized the magnitude or the moment in which the octave of her voice changed, only that everything sounded like she was trapped in a tunnel, and everything around them seemed to fade out. The noise around them suddenly reverting to nearly nothing.

“ I forgot the world revolved around Benjamin Organa Solo. Maybe if you answered your fucking phone I wouldn’t have to search you out, but forget it. And just so you know, this wasn’t about us. I give a fuck about us. I’m actually packed up, I won’t be a problem to you anymore so don’t worry. It’s your dad Ben….he’s sick. Thought you’d want to know since you won’t speak to anyone but what’s her name right here.”

I think I've seen this film before And I didn't like the ending I'm not your problem anymore So who am I offending now? You were my crown Now I'm in exile seein' you out I think I've seen this film before So I'm leavin' out the side door

She didn’t wait for Poe, or remember her feet carrying her to the car, only the feel of the way the shard of glass dug further into her foot, and the way the blood seeped and flowed across the bridge of her foot freely as she pushed down on the break.

Seattle rain had always been one of Rey’s least and most favorite things about where she lived. Some Days it made her want to do nothing more than tuck herself away in the depths of her blankets and sleep until little glimmers of sun broke through, and that could be days. It wasn’t until she met Ben, with his boundless bursts of energy, and his stupid need for a dog, the one she ended up with that gave her an excuse to pry herself out of bed on the harder days, after copious amounts of coffee of course.

But as she pulled away, Ben screaming her name the rain made her more unsettled than it ever had. She was glad she couldn’t see her phone, knowing she’d forgotten to remove that picture of him. Her fingers reached for the dial to turn whatever song was playing.

All this time We always walked a very thin line You didn't even hear me out (You didn't even hear me out) You never gave a warning sign (I gave so many signs) many signs) So many signs So many signs (You didn't even see the signs)

It sounded like the blade of a handsaw being pressed against her ear despite the fact she was in her own car. Her eyes widened in horror as she watched the car from behind her hydroplane across into the other lane hitting not only the oncoming car, but the guardrail. It took another 30 seconds for her to realize, and the moment her head made contact with the widow a sickening crack reverberating through the cab. It was then and only then through the sticky trickle of blood she realized it was Ben’s car that had slammed into her after ricocheting across the two lane highway like some sick game of pinball.

They always said in moments of trauma, your body floods with adrenaline, the shock taking over so the pain becomes nearly nonexistent. But with Rey this was not the case. The lights were blinding, and she couldn’t for the life of her figure out where the horrifying screaming was coming from, until she realized it was coming from her. But nothing she was saying made sense, and then there were hands, soft, soothing.

“ Hi honey, my name is Rose. You’ve been in an accident. Can you tell me your name?”

“ Ben--is”

“ Your name is Ben? I need to keep your head still sweet girl, you have a cervical collar and some facial swelling.I need to know your name if you can.”

“ No my name is Rey--the other was he brought in? He is Ben--I’m fine I need to know if he is alright.”

But she wasn’t fine. The swelling in her brain was severe enough it took 4 days under constant watch, and intervention to get it to a point where the doctors felt she was out of the woods. 4 days before they lifted her from that dark and heavy underwater feeling where time never changed. 4 days before she saw Rose again.

The human body at nearly 200lbs endures the average impact force of 43,050lbf traveling at 65mph, assuming the driver was wearing a seatbelt. Meaning the body feels like it's getting hit with a mass of 43,035lbs. But knowing Ben, in his anger, and the fact on more occasions than not he would forego the seatbelt all together, complaining that they needed to survey people his size as to make proper seat belt placement so they weren’t so fucking usless and uncomfortable.

Therefore changing the schematics drastically, a person Ben’s size, of nearly 200lbs, because he’d taken up the gym again, and quite diligently from what Rey could see, a man of Ben’s size at nearly 200lbs traveling without a seat belt at 65mph would endure the average impact force of 215,248 lbf. Meaning on initial impact with the oncoming car it felt like getting hit with a mass of 215,174 lbs.

An African Bush Elephant weighs 13,000lbs.

Ben was hit upon impact, with the weight of sixteen African Bush Elephants before hitting the guardrail, and bouncing off of her. *Sixteen*. And didn’t die upon impact.

That had to speak for something.

She thought she could see his face, in the darkness. Perhaps it had been wishful thinking, or the drugs they pumped through her veins. She didn’t hear anything Rose said to her after that, the number sixteen playing over and over in her mind like some annoying buzzing noise that wouldn’t go away.

Of course she didn’t need to be told he was gone, she could feel it. She startled awake, the only thing to greet her was the beep of the machines hooked to every bit of her being. And she just knew. She couldn’t feel him, from the moment she’d seen him across the library there was something about him. The way he’d smiled at her, making her shift uncomfortably from where she was hidden in the stacks, there was this connection. Like he’d split her whole being open with that one look and nod of his head. She was done for.

“Do you believe in soulmates?”

His voice was low and lulling. And she could honestly listen to him speak about anything well into the hours that would make her regret life in the morning. And that was exactly what was happening. She’d just been dozing off when he fired off one of his questions, the bed dipping with his weight which meant he’d turn to face her. His fingers brushing a curl from her face and removing the glasses she’d forgotten to remove in her drowsy state.

“ What? Soulmates--what are you on about?”

She didn’t turn on her side the way he had, instead opting to simply turn her head a bit on the pillow. Perhaps afraid of what she’d find if she really looked at him.

“ Yes, soulmates. I mean I’m not sure I believe in the everyone has someone made for them and that fucking garbage, but we’ve gone to the same school for years. We’ve had classes, and not said a word or given each other a glance.”

“ You did lop me in the head with your paper while I was at the pottery wheel that one time.”

“ Yes, but it wasn’t intentional, and you didn’t move. So irrelevant. But never once did we really pay each other any mind, brushed shoulders, passed things without glances, or words beyond our work. Then one day, it was like something just aligned, and you were right there, and you looked up, and I knew you felt it too.”

She wanted to tell him he was fucking crazy. To ask him if he’d eaten one of Hux’s fucking edibles again. But she could tell from his tone he was serious.

“ Yea, maybe. It would be nice you know…”

Ben didn’t answer, instead allowing his fingers that he’d held in the air like a giant web, as if tracing the stars to fall over her face, giving it a gentle squeeze before tightening his hold to place a kiss on her lips. No further words exchanged. Only the soft sound of his breathing as it evened out in sleep.

Rey had wanted to pretend she was asleep that night.She was selfish like that. She’d been exhausted from being hunched over the pottery wheel all day, and then her shift at the gallery seemed never ending. And so when they finally climbed into bed nearing 1 a.m. She just wanted to sleep.

She was glad she stayed up that night.

Because he’d been right. She had felt him the moment he looked at her. And now she couldn’t and she’d never felt so alone. And she’d grown up alone. She knew loneliness. Until Ben came along, filling all those spaces as if they’d never existed.

“Rey--”

The noise caught her off guard, causing her to bump herself against the bed in a way that made her realize just how poorly she was, her eyes falling on the frame of Leia Organa nee Solo and then once again Solo. Her normally pristine appearance looking about as wonderful as Rey was sure she looked.

“ You had me as your next of kin, in case of emergency, after Ben…”

It was not only the tone in which Leia spoke, but her last words that solidified Rey’s assumptions. Between that and her hesitant and careful approach, and the emptiness and fluttering anxiety that was threatening to burst from her chest, Rey wasn’t sure if she could handle it, her finger reaching for the button hoping for at least some small miracle that the kind woman Rose would appear, because if she was about to be told what she knew, she didn’t think she’d be able to bare it. It would kill her.

“ You’re awake. Miss Organa you’re here. Oh honey--”

One look from Rose’s face Rey knew the woman was slowly piecing everything together.

“ Alright, let's get this in and sit you up a bit yeah?”

Rey didn’t ask questions, allowing the small womans hands to do its work. She watched as she scurried out, Leia remaining rooted in her place, but out of the way, a syringe making its appearance and then disappearing again. As she suspected the medicine was for her nerves, a wave of calm settled over her, followed by Rose as she sat besides Rey, her fingers plucking at the small brush.

“ Ms. Organa, why don’t you take a seat.I did this while we had you sedated and resting. You got horrible knots. So let's keep that up, what do you think?”

Rey was used to this sort of talk, the social workers would use deflection to let her know her parents, or her mother in particular, weren't coming. She supposed it was to make the let down easier. And in a way it worked. It was soothing she supposed.

“He’s gone isn’t he?”

I think I've seen this film before And I didn't like the ending You're not my homeland anymore So what am I defending now? You were my town Now I'm in exile seein' you out I think I've seen this film before So I'm leaving out the side door

She figured she’d save them both the trouble. Rose was a godsend and Leia looked as if she couldn’t do or say another thing.

“ He is, would you like to see him?”

The sheer thought of him still being in the same place as her, but not really existing, sent Rey’s stomach turning, and poor Rose didn’t have a moment to escape, not that there was much. It was violent, and clawing. And it rolled through her in waves.

“ We wanted to give you the option first.”

It was Leia this time. Who’d finally come to Rey’s side. Her fingers holding Rey’s as Rose held the small basin, whispering nonsensical words of encouragement.

“ No--why would I want to see him. He is gone. I killed him.”

Her cries must have been loud, she vaguely remembered a passing nurse placing a sign outside her door before closing it. Apparently it was something they did. All Rey knew was she wanted to be alone, more alone than she already was.

“ No my dear, you didn’t kill him. You more than anyone else knew how Ben was with his temper, and the rain that, especially up the pass.It was no one’s fault, no one but his own. He drove like an idiot. It could have happened to anyone.”

She could tell even Leia had a hard time believing her words. And yet she said them with no blame, so kindly. As if she really believed Rey was completely innocent.

“ We’d been fighting though, at that damn party. I’d gone by to talk to him, because he wouldn’t answer me. He was avoiding me. And we fought, he doesn’t even understand anything. He would hear me out, he was making assumptions. And it wasn’t until I mentioned Han. But I needed to go. I was just going to let him stew in his own misery for a bit. But he followed me--if I’d just spoken to him. Or answered my phone. I could have told him to pull off.”

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

She hadn’t attended the funeral. Rey was released three days before. Instead she fetched what was left of her life, and with Poe driving headed back to blistering Arizona.

Staying away was simple. At least for a while, until she couldn’t. Demons always had a way of making themselves known. And she couldn’t run away from what had happened and Ben forever.

Of course the weather would be the exact sort she hated when the plane landed, cold and drizzly. The sort that clung to you, damp, unrelentless. Ben’s favorite. Especially if there was a fog.

It took them a bit longer to get off the plane, with an infant, and cripple. Poe’s wheelchair being placed in the back of the plane rather than the front.

“ Just think when I get my Prosthetic--”

“When you get your Prosthetic you wont be fucking useless, this is like having two kids. Come on, there is your wheelchair, hold Brynlee.”

Rey watched as her best friend slid over magically with her three month old daughter, with one arm, she could barely do anything with two, and yet he managed it impeccably, having only one leg.

“ Come on Benny, your mama is in a mood. I think she is nervous. But you shouldn’t be.”

Benny was Poe’s name for Brynlee, whose given name was Brynlee Lynn Organa Solo. Lynn after Poe’s Mother. At first Rey had been livid, but the more he did it, opting to do it quietly, or in the other rooms, or passing, the more she got used to it, and it was a tie to Brynlee’s father. As if her looks weren’t enough.

“ There you are, I’m sorry we are late, oh my.”

Rey knew exactly what Leia meant. Her daughter's firm stare from beneath the dark waves of hair, the bow of her lips when she was concentrating on something, was all her father. She even had his fingers.

“ Yes indeed, she has quite the temper and appetite. Would you like to hold her?”

From the moment her daughter had been brought into the world, with her best friend at her side, three weeks early, Rey had kept her mostly to herself. That emptiness she’d felt when she lost Ben, slowly felt as if it were dissipating. As if pieces of herself were being woven back together. As if somehow through their daughter.It was as if he was with her again. Although she knew she’d never feel complete without him again.

“ Hey kid.”

Rey had become so enthralled in watching Leia with her granddaughter, her fascination making it obvious she too was feeling much of what Rey often felt, and saw. That she hadn’t noticed the approach of Ben’s dad until his frame loomed over her, pulling her into a one sided hug, tucking her into his frame.

Han wasn’t as tall as his son, but he was by no means short in stature, tall enough to provide the relief Rey needed in that moment.

“How are you feeling? Is--”

“ It’s good, it’s good. I’m still taking it easy. It’s weird some days. Like some days I’ll be in the shop working on the Falcon, and it’s like I can just feel him more with it you know. Or does that sound weird. I am getting old, you know.”

She knew it would happen, the topic would be approached, the flood gates would open, the tears would be shed. But she didn’t think it would happen in the middle of Seatac airport. And certainly not because the discussion of the donation of Ben’s heart to his Father.

“ Can I hear it? Please--I just.”

“ Come here kid.”

“You know if you press your nose like this and stare really hard you look like a cyclops.”

He had to be high, she was sure of it. Hux always used him as the guinea pig, and with his sheer size he felt the need to eat the entire whatever the fuck it was Hux was testing. And it never ended well. Never. It was the only logical reason. And now his face was pressed so tightly to her own she couldn’t breathe. And he was laughing the most hideous laugh she’d ever heard.

“ Thank you? I think.”

She couldn’t get much out of him, a hum before a fit of laughter again, and then just like that he was serious again.

“ I liked the cyclops things, you know like in where the wild things are. That was one of my favorite books when I was little. Dad was the one I actually made read it to me nonstop. I think he finally hid it.”

She could only shrug her shoulders, her head shaking gently as she watched him lift his head, his fuzzy gaze taking her in as if to see if she were simply joking.

“ Wait, you don’t know where the wild things are?”

“ Not everyone gets goodnight stories Ben.”

Her past wasn’t something they often got into unless Ben pried. And it usually ended in argument, which was why she avoided it. She often tried to justify bad behavior, and why she was the way she was, and Ben wouldn’t stand for it, especially when it caused her to act a certain way towards him.

“ So what did you have? Didn’t you have something you liked like that?”

“ Yes, I had a stuffed bear, and I’m sure at some point it talked, but no one would replace it’s batteries. So when you pressed its hand the sound sounded like a heartbeat. And at night I’d lay with it and press it. It made me feel safe.”

Ben had never experienced such things that Rey had gone through. Of course his parents had been busy with work. So often he’d get taken to his Uncle Luke, whom he’d been close to until they had a falling out. And then there was the nannies. It was his parents' lack of presence that finally sent him out on his own at 17, as soon as he graduated. While he stayed in the state, he refused to have many interactions other than the ones that were obligatory. Not until his parents accepted fault and their wrong doing, without excuse.

“It got taken away, and I’m assuming it was thrown out. I was told I was too old. And that was that.”

Rey could see his face clearly, even with her eyes closed. Her arms wrapped tightly around Han, who she’d hugged plenty of times in the past at family gatherings. Knowing exactly what his heartbeat sounded like, and the one she currently was hearing was not that. It was Ben’s.

And she later learned there were no Cyclops things in Where the wild things are.

“ That is why you always fall asleep with your head on my chest.”

She wiped her eyes quickly, her fingers pressing against Han’s chest as she released a shaky breath. Part of her having a hard time wrapping around the fact she’d just heard the heartbeat of someone she’d thought was gone forever. A heartbeat she’d longed to hear for the rest of her life.

“ I know kid, I know. Lets get home.”

Rey opted to sleep the entire drive, taking one of the proffered anxiety pills that had been prescribed and collected per Leia. Leia sat in the back with Brynlee nestled tightly and safely between them, sleeping peacefully, while Poe chatted with Han from the front.

It was dark by the time they reached the house, and the rain had begun to pick up. And for a solid five minutes Rey stood in the doorway of the house, listening, and waiting, wondering if she’d made a mistake.

The house was too quiet, Rey kept expecting Ben to jump out from the corner scaring her half to death, causing her to drop her coffee, or throw him a punch.

It wasn’t until she’d gotten Brynlee to sleep that she finally had a moment. Changing, and sitting in the living room, surrounded by so many things that were him. And what should have been overwhelming for the first time was comforting. Seeing so much of him.

Rey found Ben’s parents chatting with Poe, as she expected, dropping into the space her friend had made, handing him the baby monitor, signaling he was on baby duty, minus feedings. Removing her glasses to wipe the gritty feeling from her eyes and buy her more time, Rey finally settled in her place.

“ I want to tell you what happened.”

There was a shift in the atmosphere, a tangible one. And for a moment it set Rey on edge, making her wonder if she was picking the wrong time, or if she were making a mistake. But was there ever a right time?

And if she were going to be living at the Solo’s until she got a place of her own, and moving back wouldn’t it be best to get it off her chest right from the get go?

“ I need you to know.”

“ Rey, we’ve never once questioned, or thought--”

But she wouldn’t hear any of it. They deserved the truth. The truth their son wouldn’t hear. She wouldn’t be silenced again. She didn’t want anyone else thinking differently of her.

“ I didn’t help my mother. I didn’t break my word. He told me if I helped her again we were done. She was sober, and one of the times she was sober before she’d told me one of her case workers was diagnosed with cancer, that they had an amazing Oncologist. That doctor specialized in certain things. I only called her and spoke with her because I needed that information. Leia...Han. Other than Ben, Poe is the only family I had.”

“ You had us Kid…”

Han’s words tore through her like a molten blade, hot and leaving her raw, and for the first time since the accident, it left her feeling as if she couldn’t breathe.

“ Yes, but Ben was making it very clear there would be consequences if I continued to have contact with my Mother, she was causing issues in our relationship. But this time it wasn’t that sort of interaction, but he wouldn’t even listen to me. But in his respect she did fall off the wagon 3 weeks later. But I just needed the doctor's name, for Poe’s leg.”

“ Yea, might not be alive now if it wasn’t for that doctor. Not only was he amazing, but the cost. I’d never have been able to afford it, and that is with my wheelchair, they’ll pay for a prosthetic if I want one, and car modifications.

Rey was thankful for Poe’s chime in, although she was quite sure it was unnecessary, she knew Ben’s parents didn’t need nor necessarily want a play by play as to what took place. They more than anyone knew their son’s temper and what he was capable of.

It was Leia who collected Rey, followed by Han as he ushered them towards the room.

She stilled at the doorway, she’d slept in the room nearly as many times as her own at one point. And if she breathed deeply enough it was like she could smell him there, a notion she knew was crazy.Not with the way Leia was about cleaning. But the more she stood rooted, the more it permeated around her. Making her feel crazy.

“There is a box, well boxes. In the closet. We thought you’d like to go through it”

So that was it, she wasn’t crazy. And perhaps Leia wasn’t attuned to it the way she was, her head nodding as her legs magnetically seemed to draw towards where she’d been directed.

A sound behind her signaled perhaps Leia had wanted to say more, before Han had ushered her out, opting to check on Benny from what Rey could guess, and join Poe once more. There were more than a few boxes, each one marked with his name. But it wouldn’t be hard to figure what was what. Her arms straining to reach the top one, Leia ever the logical one, and Rey had been right, it was the one she’d wanted, the touch of fabric greeting her fingers at the handles nearly causing her to drop the box.

Setting the box on the bed, Rey closed the bedroom door with a quiet click. Before moving towards her favorite window. Their window. Flashes of moments with Ben playing behind her eyes as she grasped the box settling on the floor. She wanted no other distractions. Just this.

She was surprised to find his pants on top, the order making no sense to her, but as she unfolded the clean fold of the heavy material she knew she wouldn’t be able to hold the tears in long, not when remembered the last time she’d seen this exact pair, draped sloppily over her corner chair, the one that she hunched over to study in the earliest hours of the morning.

“ Ben--your pants please.”

She could hear the thundering footsteps, most likely in their kitchen, followed by the giggled that he saved for when he knew he was going to annoy her.

“ No, they’re fine. You worry about too many things Rey. Just live a little.”

His words, had done their job, because she now stood before him.And just the sight of him in his work shirt and underwear and stupid beanie made her a little less annoyed. Especially when he looked at her the way he was.

“ Ben you’re a nightmare. Pick up your fucking pants.Please, because there will be another pair on top of their friends tomorrow and--”

“ And you are too uptight, and isn’t that what I have you for? And to make sure I don’t starve.”

He was lucky she was shoe less that day, an entire mouthful of milk falling from his mouth and onto her shoulder, making her gag. But it didn’t stop him. It never did, instead he simply shoved another spoonful of the disgusting matter before pressing his lips to hers firmly, pulling away only to chew twice and swallow.

“ You won’t ever get rid of me, remember. That feeling. You and me.”

She could only nod, untangling herself from him, unable to take him seriously when he spoke like that. The intensity shaking her to her core. And in the next moment, he was swatting her in the bottom with an old piece of mail. Another thing he promised to take care of, and forgot.

“ Hey Rey--I love you.”

His words stopped her retreat. They weren’t said often, and the fact he’d stopped grazing on his awful bowl of cereal, his voice so soft she actually had to focus or she wouldn’t have heard it, she knew he meant it.

“ I know--”

She always felt sometimes she should have said more, she often professed her love, and they’d decided there wasn’t a need to reply to it every time it was said, there were moments like this, in which sometimes it needed to be one sided.

“ Ben--put your fucking pants away though.”

The simplicity of words after such a moment was worth hearing his laughter again, although the combination between it and his eating is what nightmares were made of, and in the end she put the pants away. And as she held them, she was thankful Leia kept them. But knowing Leia she kept everything.

It didn’t take her long to find it, and she didn’t look at it at all, he had three, one being the one he’d worn *that* night, but it had been very clear, that had been the newer of the set. The one she fetched out was the oldest, torn in one spot, stretched out, and soft. And every fiber of it smelled like him, and she slipped it over her head, feeling the sleeves reach past her finger tips for a single moment it felt as if he was holding her.

There was no concept of time as she sat at the window, a soft knock interrupting her thoughts, Poe sliding through the door on his crutches, face softening at the sight of his friend. “ Lets get you to bed kiddo. Want me to fold these up?”

A wave of panic rolled through her, causing her to jump up from her place, grabbing the pants and few other items that had gathered around her.

“ Okay kiddo, no worries. I get it. You don’t want it smelling like anyone else. I was like that when my mom died. But when you’re done, I’ll tuck you in okay? And before you worry, Han fed Benny, she’s all sorted. Used some of the milk you pumped. So for tonight just rest. Please Rey, if not for anyone else, Benny included, for Ben. You know it’s what he’d want.”

That was the downside to Poe Dameron, he was one of the most entertaining people she knew, he was ravishingly handsome. And many a time Ben thought there had been an interest beyond friendship, until he himself had taken the time to get to know Poe and then he said in his own stoic glory. “ I totally get it.” Because that was Poe. But the thing that annoyed Rey the most, was his way of being right.

So often he was happy and go lucky, she supposed having cancer and later losing a leg to it did that to a person. But he also had a seriousness that he approached with sheer positivity. If he knew he wasn’t right, he didn’t push at it, he might mention it but that was all that would come of it.

Unlike Ben who would argue the sky was green if need be.

But Poe was right, if there was a heaven or whatever, and they really did look over you from above. Perhaps Rey should ask Leia what Jewish believed, but then she could hear Ben rattling on about how she isn’t even really Jewish. Only when she sees fit. Holidays, and the naming of children. Or child in his case.

Another conversation that had lead to endless laughter and the promise if they had children they’d absolutely not name their children anything biblical, simplify because Ben knew it would send Leia into fits, a bit of a fuck you for making his childhood rough. He wanted something modern, but not too fussy. And if they had a girl and fuck him if they did, somewhat girly. But nothing fucking stupid like Fanny, as he heard those names were making a comeback.

But Rey knew if there were such a thing, Poe was right. Ben would have wanted her to take care of herself, and this entire process, returning back to Seattle, making it home again, forgiving herself, that was going to be hard enough.

The morning was quiet, a soft rain, or drizzle as she learned they like to call it here fell softly outside. The smell of coffee lulled her to the kitchen, but the ache in her chest let her know there were other matters that needed to be dealt with first.

She wasn’t surprised to see Han in the kitchen, Benny tucked contently in his arms, her eyes, another thing inherited from her father gazing intently at her grandfather as he walked and poured cream into the cup before him, sliding it across the counter.

“ Who do you think taught him to make a proper cup? And I think this little lady is ready for her breakfast. Go take my chair, I can sit in Leia's. She went to the market.”

Han let Rey get settled, both herself, and Benny before taking a seat in the other chair, his finger reaching out. “ So you found the stuff. I told Leia you might like it. She wasn’t sure. She wanted to donate it at first. But I told her you might like it for something. There are somethings in there, perhaps we can cut them to make a blanket for Benny. I don’t know that might be silly I’ve just seen--”

“ No it’s perfect, thank you Han. For everything. I know this isn’t easy.”

“ You loved him Rey. Probably more than any of us. Hear me out please. You’ve always come here and seen us, and we’ve loved that. We knew you were it for him. And before you argue that you weren’t together when all this happened, none of that matters my son is pigheaded. He gets it from me, well and his mother, but don’t tell her I said that. You were it for him. I know that soulmate gibberish he talked about. But what you don’t know is it’s because that is what I believe, he probably heard it from me.”

Rey could only imagine what her face must have looked like, and she must have been surprised because she heard Benny make a noise, meaning she’d pressed her into her a bit, but she’d been so blindsided by the omission. Han Solo foul mouth, and dry humor extraordinaire, romantic and believed in soul mates.

“Did you know Leia and I weren’t together when she got pregnant with Ben? Bet he didn’t tell you that. Or that she was dating someone when I first saw her, not met her, saw her. And it felt like someone electrocuted my feet, and I walked up to her and told her she was going to be my woman one day. She tossed a drink at me and called me a neanderthal. But I genuinely felt it in my soul. It was out of nowhere, and we’d been sitting two tables away for hours.”

It was weird, hearing the parallels. Even weirder hearing the soft side of Han, but now that she looked deeper, having seen her with her daughter, *their* daughter, someone so reflective of the man they both loved, and had lost, it made perfect sense.

The shuffle in his pocket didn’t go unnoticed, although whatever she’d expected him to produce certain wasn’t what he held. It was in better condition that she’d expected. Considering it held no case, something Ben griped her for endlessly. The sticker of the shop he worked for still somewhat holding it place firmly, although its corners were beginning to pull and fold. Like the petals of a wilting flower, fitting given the circumstances.

“ There is something on there. You can call the company it turns out, and they can save it permanently. I figured you’d want it. Perhaps take it to the Hollow.”

Of course he’d be there, the trek was a bit of a hassle, and how Han had made it after a heart replacement, she’d never know. But then of course he would, if he died making his way to his son’s final resting place she knew he’d have left content.

“ You know he was a weird kid, always running up there to talk to his Grandpa, they’re buried next to one another.And old Chewie. Get bundled, I’m sure that ugly plaid jacket of his is in that box too, I’ll watch the Princess. What you say kiddo? Hang out with Pop-pop?”

The phone felt hot in her hand as she clutched it, tucking it away so she wouldn’t be tempted by it. She dressed quickly, her fingers throwing her hair that she’d grown after the accident into a plait in record time. An old pair of jeans and T-shirt before throwing the Old Black sweater overhead. Han had been right, the eyesore of a jack lay folded neatly in a second box, along with one of Ben’s rattier beanies. “ The perfect lumberjack.” He’d have called her.

With one last check to be sure everything needed for Benny was present, and a reassurance from Poe, Rey headed up the trail behind the Solo’s property. Their homestead sat on 200 acres, most of it undeveloped forest, including its very own small stream and what could have been called a waterfall, because of course it did.

It was so perfectly simplistic, it nearly looked as if it came from a time well before they ever existed, and perfectly Ben.

*Benjamin Organa Solo*

*Beloved Son*

*Father*

*Soulmate to Rey*

*November 19, 1993 - January 15,2018*

two souls are sometimes created together And in love before they��re even born

f.scott fitzgerald

She hadn’t expected it, the star of David of course was a bit of an overkill, and it was probably good that Ben wasn’t around to see it, but it was a good distraction, but Ben would have been horrified, and knowing that and hearing his voice in her head, it made Rey laugh.

She sat on the mossy dirt, the rain having slowed to a light but chilled drizzle. The phone felt like a brick in her pocket. But she knew what she had to do, it was the only way she’d get any closure, if this could be called that. But her anxiety was through the roof.

It appeared Han, or Leia had taken the initiative and charged the phone for her. The homescreen screamed at her, of better times. A picture she hated, but Ben insisted on, but of course he would, it was mostly him, his arm wrapped around her tightly, her eyes pinched closed as his face took up most of the screen his tongue nearly touching his chin as he refused to take a proper picture, in protest of her requests to look like a normal couple. And to infuriate her more he set it to her screen shoving the phone back at her his tone petulant as he tugged her further down the pier.

“ There, we don’t need some typical picture to prove we are a couple Rey, I’ve been inside you 50 million ways, besides this is far better than any cliche picture we could have taken, I can see your freckles, and you can see proof I no longer have tonsils, and that my parents should really have invested in braces, cheap fucks.”

Her passcode was the last step to whatever Ben had to say, his last words. To her at least. And part of her didn’t want to know, but then again she wasn’t sure if their exchange at the party was what she wanted to remember as their last moments together.

It made her wonder, did he know? Did he have any sort of inkling of what was to come?

Her finger hovered, but only momentarily, because she knew if she waited anymore she wouldn’t follow through.

It was static at first, and then she heard it, muffled, but there, rich and quiet, even behind the slap of the rain as it beat violently against the windshield.

“Rey--it’s me. But you know that. Please, pickup the phone. I know you won't, you’ve probably flipped your phone over, or tossed it in the back, and it makes me hate you that you wouldn’t let me install one of those smart stereos, the one with the bluetooth, and navigation. Because you are horrible at navigation, and then you’d have to see my phone calls, and it would disrupt you. But anyways.”

Even in the middle of a fight, Ben knew how to be somewhat humorous and she wasn’t sure if that made it worse, or better.

“Look, I’m sorry. And if you’d just answer your phone, perhaps we could pull off, have a romp? I’m sorry that was crude and I was kidding, unless you know you wanted to. But no really, we can get coffee. I wasn’t fair to you. And it’s obvious we have things to discuss, just please answer me. And Rey--”

She could hear the pause, the skid of his tires, through the other line, and for a moment she was sure the call would drop, hoped it would, because she couldn’t bear hearing it.

“ Rey--I love you. I’ll talk to you later. Bye.”

The phone call dropped, and she wasn’t sure if he knew what was happening, the way his voice sounded, the change in his breathing said perhaps he did, perhaps it had indeed happened and he’d saved her from hearing it. She wouldn’t doubt it. He’d always been somewhat of her White Knight.

But in the end, she couldn't help but be relieved, their last exchange wasn’t completely that of anger. He loved her. Despite it all, even in the end. She knew he knew. He always had been good at reading her, she’d been nothing but an open book from the moment she met him. And it was no different in the end. Even if she hadn’t gotten the chance to tell him. She knew he knew. And that gave her a bit of peace.

“ I miss you so much.”

The trek back to the house left her feeling heavy. But the emptiness had somewhat lifted. And when she reached the living room, she was somewhat surprised to see Han and Benny in the same place she left them, as if a pause button had been pressed. The only thing that had changed was the fire that had been started.

“ Hey kid, better?”

It was the first time Rey realized she had placed the phone back in its hiding place, her hand rotating it towards Han.

“ Yes, Better.”

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soulmate-game · 4 years

Text

The format is slightly off because I hate formatting on this app, so if you want a better experience then read the chapter on AO3. Without further ado, Chapter 12 of The Heroes’ Game.

Chapter 12 AO3

—*—*—*—*—*

“So. This is the useless, goo-minded model of an ex-friend who decided to suddenly regrow the spine that had spontaneously combusted two years ago?”

“That was three insults in ten seconds, Marinette,” Adrien pointed out, eyebrows high on his face, the blond impressed.

“I forgot to say spoiled.”

“Wow. You weren’t kidding,” Adrien shook his head, smiling slightly. “We can never let him and Kagami meet. They would be unstoppable.”

Marinette, who finally decided to stop holding back her beaming smile, laughed cheerfully. “Also, this is Damian’s brother Tim,” she gestured to the slightly older man, who smiled politely and waved from his place in the passenger’s seat of the luxury car. Marinette was sat in the middle of the car’s back row, one rich green-eyed teenage heir to either side of her.

“Also, Marinette,” Damian took hold of the conversation as Adrien introduced himself to his elder brother. “I notice you are wearing a new necklace. Any particular reason? It does not look like your usual style.”

The pigtailed girl blinked, rubbing her hand over the simple silver chain that held Chat Noir’s ring under her shirt. It took all her willpower to not cast a glance at Adrien as she ran her fingertips over it.

“It isn’t, but a family friend gave me an heirloom of his for good luck,” she said slowly, testing out the lie that Tikki had helped her create the previous night. “I decided to put it on a chain and wear it under my clothes. Something tells me that I’ll need all the luck I can get this week.”

Plagg was a bit grumpy at his ring being told to be a good luck charm when the truth was the exact opposite, but he had been suitably ignored by both Tikki and Marinette. The cat Kwami took a little too much pride in his unlucky and destructive powers.

“So, I couldn’t help but notice you mentioned a Kagami. That wouldn’t happen to be the Olympic gold medalist fencer Kagami Tsurugi, who is rumored to be studying in Paris to improve her skills, would it?” Tim asked, turning in his seat to face the teenagers in the back. Marinette and Adrien both smiled widely, nearly blinding both Wayne’s present.

“Oh yeah, that’s her,” Adrien confirmed, nearly bouncing in his seat. “She and I actually became soulmates almost four months ago,” Adrien pulled up his sleeve to show the stylized foil in stunning maroon on his arm. “She says I’m one of the only people who can still keep up with her in a spar. She’s ruthless,” Adrien’s face just got dreamier as he spoke. “She isn’t the best at socializing, but me, Marinette, and some of our other friends have been helping her out. She didn’t exactly get the best childhood, being raised to be the best fencer possible and compete at the Olympics and all. Kagami’s mom isn’t exactly the most friendly person you’ll ever meet, but somehow Marinette worked her magic,” Adrien chuckled a bit at the memory. “She just has this— this natural ability, I guess. Marinette, I mean. She knows exactly what to say and do in order to get someone to realize the mistakes they’re making. She had two conversations with Tsurugi-San. Two. And even though Kagami’s mom hasn't completely changed, she’s a lot more lenient now and actually makes an effort to be more sensitive in how she treats Kagami. That’s why I’ve always considered Marinette to be our every-day Ladybug,” he turned and offered the girl he was trying to earn the forgiveness of a small, sad smile. “Even if I haven’t really expressed that enough lately.”

“Every day ladybug?” Tim asked, eyebrow raised. Marinette had her head in her hands out of embarrassment.

“Adrien, nooooo!”

She was ignored.

The blond in the car nodded, eyes wide and shining with innocent enthusiasm. “Oh yeah. So Ladybug is Paris’s hero, right? She always manages to save the day, turn everything back to normal, and always looks after the city. But Marinette is like our hero without a costume. She always cares about our emotions, does her best to solve problems even for strangers, and cares about everyone she meets. She put together this whole trip— sure, it was funded because of the contest, but we never would have been able to come without Marinette’s planning and foresight. She did all this even though the majority of the class isn’t on good terms with her anymore. She had no obligation to do any of this for us, she could have just asked to come by herself, but she did all of it anyway. Because she cares even for people who aren’t nice to her.”

“Nobody deserves to just stay in Paris when they have an option to escape for a while,” Marinette argued, frowning. “It’s a toxic prison with HawkMoth running around. Regardless of how the class treats me, everyone deserves a break from that.”

Adrien just gestured to Marinette with his eyebrows raised as if to say, ‘you see?’

“I didn’t realize you were this much of a boot-licker,” Damian sneered, eyes narrowed and distrusting towards the blond model. “Marinette may not have been able to tell me everything, but simple observation can fill in the blanks. You were a limp noodle around the liar just yesterday, and while I do not doubt that what you say about Miss Dupain-Cheng is true, it sounds far too close to flattery for my liking. She may be kind and forgiving, but let me assure you that I do not accept a traitor’s words so easily. You were clearly a cowardly slime just earlier this week, all fake smiles and weak assurances,” the Wayne heir leaned forward so his dark, piercing green eyes locked with Adrian’s own acidic ones. “How do I know you will not turn tail again? Abandon Marinette as soon as something difficult comes along again? Why are you here, Agreste?”

The fencer’s lips thinned, and he clasped his hands between his knees without breaking eye contact. “I was stupid,” he admitted, sounding far more tired than anyone their age should have to. “I was distracted. My home life isn’t the best, never has been. Pretty much all my experience in social interaction comes from these past three years in school with Marinette and the others. And no, that’s not an excuse. I knew Lila was lying, but I didn’t know how toxic it was. How toxic it would get. And when my father gave me the ultimatum to stay on Lila’s good side, I wasn’t brave enough to say no,” Adrian finally broke eye contact and looked down at his entwined hands. He clenched them tighter as he thought about the past week in Gotham. “But I got sick over the weekend. I’m still a little sick, but I’m getting better now. And I think it— the weakness, how bad I was feeling… suddenly waking up this morning feeling so much better physically helped me realize how empty I felt. I usually ignore it in Paris because I can’t afford to get Akumatized. I wouldn’t forgive myself,” his jaw clenched. “But here, far away from HawkMoth, I finally saw it. Life in Paris sucks right now. The atmosphere in the class is draining. And I realized the only light in it still was being hurt, and I had ignored it. I called Kagami, she helped me realize just how badly I screwed up. I didn’t even realize the environment I had just left Marinette in, pretty much alone. I made a huge mistake,” he raised his eyes back up to Damian’s, the acidic, verdant eyes burning with new, renewed, determination. “I won’t make it again.”

“Tt. See to it that you don’t, or I will.”

“Oh, you didn’t mention he’d make a threat in the first ten minutes! We definitely should never let him and Kagami meet.”

“Stay intimidated you damn inconsistent ape!”

—*—*—*—*—*

“Everyone split up into teams. We’ll be going in groups of five, if you don’t want to participate you can stick to the top rows of bleachers,” the coach was instructing everyone gathered in the gym. Madame Bustier translated for those of the students who didn’t speak fluent English. It didn’t take long for Lila and her closest crew to move up to the topmost bleachers and away from the risk of being drafted to play basketball.

Why would Lila risk breaking a nail for sports, after all?

Marinette, on the other hand, still had a lot of energy to get rid of even if she had gone freerunning not that long ago with Robin and Red Hood. The ring sitting warmly against her chest did not at all help, its resonance with her earrings almost overflowing her with power and energy she was wholly unused to. She needed to vent it somehow, even if just a little.

She didn’t think about how a lesser person would have already been consumed by that energy.

The second the coach asked for volunteers for team captain, Marinette had never risen her hand faster for something. Nobody else had a chance (except Jon, but she didn’t have to know that. The kryptonian boy hadn’t made much effort anyway). The coach smiled widely.

“Good, someone with enthusiasm! Wanna make it a Paris against Gotham game? Choose your team Dupain-Cheng. Wayne, you’ll captain the opposing team.”

Marinette smiled widely in triumph, standing and immediately picking her team as her hand moved alongside her voice, pointing out her chosen teammates. “Alix, Kim, Ivan, Ad—if you’re feeling up to it, Adrien. If not, I can—“

“No, I’m good,” Adrien held up a hand to stop his pigtailed friend from devolving into stutters as he stood up. “I won’t get better lying around, anyway. Just go easy on me, Boss.”

Marinette chuckled at that, turning to see who Damian had chosen. Jon, to nobody’s surprise. Four other people Marinette only vaguely recognized from classes. They all looked athletic and not too intimidated by the Ice Prince, which made the Parisian designer suitably wary of the group as they went to the center of the court to get started.

“We’ll let the Paris team start this time, as a welcome to America,” the coach decided, handing the ball to Mari. He backed up until he was no longer in the way, and both teams got into their positions. “Ready… start!”

Marinette’s eyes flew, knowing everyone was waiting for her first move. Plan, plan— aha! Her lips curled into a smirk, and without warning she darted straight towards Damian’s team.

The ex-assassin wasn’t about to let her go that easily though, of course, and ran straight to intercept her. Only, she took advantage of the way Jon almost instinctively followed Damian to cover his back, and tossed the ball around her green-eyed pursuer straight at the spectacled boy. Jon’s eyes widened, and he smiled. He thought for sure Mari had miscalculated, and put forth a burst of speed to catch the ball headed towards his chest—

Only for a blur of yellow to fly right in front of him, snagging the ball and carrying it further into the Gotham team’s side of the court. Jon pursued Adrien, who passed to Kim. The seasoned athlete had already skirted around the distracted crowd to end up close to the basket, and dunked the ball as soon as he caught it.

Paris, 2. Gotham, 0.

Damian instantly whipped his head to stare at his soulmate, who had her arms crossed as she grinned at him smugly.

That kind of wordless teamwork didn’t come out of nowhere though, and Damian felt his eyes narrow. If Chat was Adrien, and he and Marinette had started off such a seamless play, then his suspicions just got another support beam to hold them up. Maybe he would put effort into this game after all.

“Jon, don’t follow me so closely. Marinette took advantage of you not watching your own back, stay observant,” he told his friend, a clear double meaning behind his last two words. Jon raised two perfectly black brows, as if silently asking are you telling me to cheat?

Damian only nodded, dribbling the ball he had been handed as the teams went back to the center.

Even with Jon tuning into his super senses to keep a better eye on the game, so to speak, they ended up tied at the end of fifteen minutes.

20-20

Both teams made swift scores, but it was clear Damian and Jon were carrying their team while the Paris team was well rounded with Marinette and Adrien just slightly advanced leaders that they took silent cues from.

Marinette was beaming widely as she breathed heavily, but wasn’t nearly as out of breath as her teammates. Adrien was so exhausted from his “illness” that he ended up sitting out the sudden death.

It was down to Marinette and Damian glaring each other down in adrenaline-fueled glee as the coach held the ball in one hand, counting down. At zero, he tossed the ball up and both secret vigilantes lunged.

Marinette jumped higher, managing to smack the ball first and get it into Alix’s grip. Their ball.

SHE AND Damian both races, following the skater as she ran towards the Gotham Team’s goal. Alix was blocked. Ivan was being covered by two of Damian’s teammates, Kim by another. Alix had no choice but to pass to Marinette, but Damian was able to pull forward at just the right time to snag the ball.

Marinette leaped backwards a good several feet, never taking her eyes off the emerald eyed teen. He put up a valiant defense, but Marinette managed to slap the ball away from him and dribbled it back to the right side of the court.

Only to stop dead. She was surrounded, the three point line was ahead of her, none of her teammates were free. If Adrian had been in play, maybe… Jon was closing in front her left, she had to move before he or Damian closed in on her.

So she took a deep breath, jumped straight up as high as she could go, and threw.

The ball swished through the net, and the students actually watching roared in surprised and impressed shouts of approval.

The Asian-French girl instantly got mobbed with hugs from her teammates, her head tilted back as she laughed in pure glee.

Bluebell met emerald.

Marinette winked. “Guess Paris is just better huh, Wayne?”

He would be lying if he said seeing her so breathlessly happy didn’t leave him similarly winded. Almost blinded by her brightness.

Yeah, he thought. You were pretty spot on back then. You must be my personal Angel. I don’t know what else you could possibly be.

—*—*—*—*—*

A Valkyrie, Damian decided. Marinette must be a Valkyrie. A warrior angel who chose the dead from a battlefield to be taken to Valhalla.

Why?

Because he was a Wayne, and as a Wayne he had several people (read: hundreds) who would like nothing better than to kidnap and ransom him to his father.

Like now. The Riddler had caught him, Jon, Marinette, Adrien, and several others as soon as school ended. He was the only real target, but Riddler never turned down extra bait. He wasn’t as tough on teenagers as he was adults, but that didn’t mean lives weren’t still on the line.

“Alright, kiddies. I’m a fair guy,” lies, “and I got a soft spot for kids. So, you can stay here obediently until Brucie boy up in his Tower sends me my money, or the Bats comes to his doom. Either way, you’ll be let out scott free afterwards. Or, you can leave,” he gestured towards the door in the lair they were in that proudly boasted a glowing red EXIT sign. “Any time you want,” he told them, smiling sinisterly. Because, of course, the only way to the exit was past a puzzle.

“In order to leave, you just have to possess at least two brain cells to rub together. I know, a hard feat nowadays to manage. To get to the exit, you have to find a way past the trick wall in front of you. Just fair warning, every wall is a trick wall so don’t try to pull any fancy tricks. Each brick is either safe, a deterrent, or a trick. And be careful, tricks can either give you a paper cut or a haircut a few inches too low to cut only hair, if you can understand my meaning. If you were smart, you’d just stay put.”

And Damian stared at his Soulmate, who didn’t even know he was right then, as she was the only one standing as the rest of them sat. Damian and Jon were seated because they knew Batman and co. Would be coming soon to bail them out, and neither boy could risk outing their identity. All of them had their wrists zip tied behind their backs, but that didn’t seem to stop Marinette from staying standing up defiantly and analyzing their surroundings.

“Are you gonna just stand there, or do something, little girl?” Riddler’s voice came back over the speakers. He wasn’t in the room with them, communicating over an intercom and attached TV screen. “Is your bravado all for show, or do you actually plan to escape?”

Marinette turned her glare to the live feed on the flat screen.

“I’m not the one hiding in a separate bunker, Riddler,” she retorted calmly. She was in a room with only Damian, Jon, a few of her friends, and walls of potentially dangerous traps. There were no gunmen this time. No immediate threats. Marinette could let a little Ladybug through this time.

Her hands twitched with an urge to punch something that was just being amplified by the ring around her neck.

Maybe a little Lady Noir could come through too, for a change.

Riddler twitched, and Damian could only stare as his soulmate stared down a Gotham rogue and even insulted him without hesitation or fear in her stance or face.

“Marinette!” Alix hissed, tugging at the girl’s uniform pants. “Get down! We’ll get out of here soon enough, don’t upset the supervillain!” She begged her friend. Marinette looked down at the pinkette, frowning.

“No, Alix! He isn’t even brave enough to fight his own battles, he lets puzzles and traps and hostages do his dirty work. I’m not about to sit down and let him treat me like I’m some helpless little kid. I stay quiet enough at school,” she hissed back softly, not about to back down this time. The bit about their class made Ivan and Kim flinch, along with Max and Juleka, who had also been taken. Adrien would have flinched, but the basketball game alone had drained him of all his recovering stamina for the day. This added stress was getting to him.

The blond, who had been eerily silent, started to cough. The pigtailed rebel of the group instantly turned to him, her face paper white as the model couldn’t seem to stop coughing. Specks of blood dipped out of his palms that were covering his mouth. and onto the ground.

“Shit,” Damian cursed. Jon wrapped an arm around the smaller boy, trying to get him to calm down and take deep breaths.

“There. Slow and steady,” Jon whispered to Adrien. “I knew you were sick, bud, but I didn’t think it was this bad. No worries though, we’ll get you checked out as soon as we get outta here,” he assured the fencer before looking up and locking eyes with Marinette. She nodded.

“Even more of a reason to get out as soon as possible instead of waiting around. Adrien needs a doctor. Max, is Markov..?”

The techie shook his head. “Back at the hotel, along with my better tech. My phone was taken.”

The pigtailed teen sighed, but wasn’t surprised. She reached up and took out the ribbons in her hair, tying them together and ignoring the unusual feel of her hair being loose behind her neck. It was usually something reserved for bedtime, but she wouldn’t be sleeping anytime soon.

“Alix, you have your roller blades on you, right?” The pinkette blinked in surprise before nodding, pulling the objects out of her bag.

“Yeah, why?”

Marinette didn’t answer, taking only one shoe and popping off two wheels. Alix made a face, but didn’t complain.

“Ivan, you carry around extra hair supplies for Mylene, right?” She held out a hand without waiting for an answer. “Could you give me some rubber bands?”

Holding her tied-together ribbons in her mouth, Marinette quickly tied the two rollerblade wheels together with the rubber bands, and tied her ribbons around the rubber bands to make them into a sort of axel. Makeshift yo-yo. She grinned, rolling the improvised weapon up and turning to the wall.

“What are you doing?” Damian asked slowly, standing to cover her back. Jon could watch the civilians just fine, he wasn’t leaving his soulmate without an extra pair of eyes just in case. Marinette was rapidly scanning the wall separating them from the exit.

“The wall is a puzzle, which means there has to be a pattern. All the bricks look pretty much the same, but we should be able to find the pattern without touching the wall if we look hard enough. We don’t have that kind of time though, so I’m going the old-fashioned trial-and-error way.”

“What?” Damian barked, but didn’t get in her way. “You can’t be that reckless—“

“I’m not going to touch the wall,” she interrupted, rolling her eyes. “This is,” she used that moment to swing her makeshift yo-yo at a brick above everyone’s heads. It pressed in, and nothing happened. It just slid back to make a step. Marinette grinned, rewinding her DIY tweaking and swinging it at the brick right next to the safe one, which swung away to reveal a muzzle that shot a stream of fire above everyone’s heads. “Predictable,” she muttered with a triumphant grin. “If I’m right, anyway. This could just be beginner’s luck.” She rewound and swung the ribbon-wheel-rubber band contraption a few more times, setting off only a few more traps. The solution printed itself in her mind.

Damian’s eyebrows raised, recognizing the pattern she was creating— or tracing— with her weighted whip. For a long moment, though only the other people in the room noticed, the two soulmates wore identical smug smirks.

“You got it,” Damian whispered, impressed and pleased before he surged forward. “Here, Get the lower ones. Your whip won’t reach the top of the wall, I’ll climb up and get those,” he offered, turning to make sure he had her approval. The girl’s face twisted into reluctance, clearly not wanting to put him in danger. The youngest Wayne put a hand on her shoulder, offering her a solid nod of reassurance. “I’ll be fine. I know the pattern now, and I have a fast reaction speed just in case. We also need someone to make sure there aren’t thugs waiting on the other side just in case, and I have a decent background in martial arts. Riddler doesn’t usually lie about his puzzles, but you can never be too careful with a Rogue.”

Marinette’s lips thinned again, but she nodded. A few thuds of her improvised weapon later, and Damian had the footholds necessary to climb up and press the bricks that were too high to reach.

The pattern made a question mark right in the center of the wall, but the top two rows of bricks before the empty space above the wall were all trick stones, meaning Damian had to carefully heave himself over and onto the platform waiting for them on top of the trapped obstacle. He took a quick look around before nodding to himself and looking down.

“All clear! Send Adrien up first,” he called, holding his arm down so he could help the Agreste heir when he got high enough. “Be careful not to press against these stones, you’ll set off a trap. When you pull yourselves over, keep your body straight and away from the wall,” the civilian-dressed vigilante instructed after they all successfully helped Adrien over onto the platform. Behind them, Riddler was suspiciously quiet and the TV didn’t turn back on.

They soon found out why. Only Marinette, Jon, and Max were still on the wrong side of the puzzle wall when a hidden door was kicked in and Batman stormed in alongside Red Robin. Both vigilantes froze at the sight of the unharmed teens already almost out. Marinette waved to them sheepishly, and Damian groaned.

“You mean there was a door there the whole time?” He groused, annoyed.

“It’s for the best,” Red Robin told him, shaking his head. “The riddler’s bunker was back there, and it’s a dead end unless you wanna squeeze through broken windows. Red Hood is tying him up right now, he’ll come out behind us. Though, we didn’t expect you all to already be almost out.”

Batman shot his grapple at the top of the wall, beckoning to Max and Marinette as Jon scrambled up the solved puzzle wall. “Let’s make this go by faster.”

Ten minutes later, and everyone was out. Red Hood manhandled Riddler away to the cops, and for the second time on their trip Marinette and her friends found school blankets settled over their shoulders.

“Well,” Max started, blinking. “I kinda expected worse, actually.”

Juleka nodded, tilting her head. “Yeah, that was kinda… tame…”

Marinette sighed, looking over at the two. “Of course,” she answered shortly, no longer patient with her classmates (no longer friends) now that they were all out of danger. “Riddler has a known soft spot for kids, and this was just a ransom scheme. Riddler’s actually been reforming for the past few years too, he most likely just had a relapse. None of his schemes for the past two years have been nearly as convoluted as beforehand and they are all months apart. Which you would know if you did my suggested research into Gotham’s rogues that I gave you before the trip,” she told them monotonously. She was done coddling them, they didn’t seem nearly as phased by this Riddler fiasco as they did by the failed robbery the week before. Then again, no guns or deaths were involved this time.

“That is correct, Miss Dupain-Cheng. Though I was hoping we wouldn’t see each other again so soon,” Batman spoke, approaching the group of teens as Hood and Red Robin explained things to the cops present. “But the puzzle was still something that should have taken at least an hour to solve. Good work doing it so quickly. And your improvisation is also impressive.”

Marinette blushed, looking down at the contraption she still hadn’t taken apart. “It’s nothing. I know the kinds of things my classmates always carry around, and I knew we needed something weighted to trigger the bricks, so…”

Batman grinned, a quick and very small thing that Marinette was sure she hallucinated. “Still, good work using your brain and keeping a cool head. You made our job easier. But let’s both try to keep any more excitement like this from happening on your trip.”

Marinette laughed, nodding. “I don’t know what I can do to help with that, but I’ll do my best anyway.”

—*—*—*—*—*

That night, after their daily spar, Robin braced his hands on his knees and panted. He was exhausted despite the fact that their bodies weren’t actually real in their mental world, and the physical strain was all simulated. Marinette had actually won, for the first time since they had begun the daily practice.

“Woo!” Marinette raised her fists in sloppy victory, just as out of breath as Robin. “I must be on a roll today! Lucky!”

“You’re Ladybug,” Robin suddenly blurted out. Normally he would have tensed at the slip, but for some reason the admission of his suspicion felt normal. Casual. Right. So he remained relaxed. Marinette went silent, looking over at him with a straight face for a long second before her lips slightly curled up at the corners.

“And you’re Damian, right?” She shot back, her voice soft and gentle. They looked into each other’s eyes as they continued to pant, both of their accusations in the open between them now.

Neither of them claimed to be innocent.

And that was okay. For some reason, neither of them minded that their identities had been found out. Maybe they had known for a few days, now. But they spent every night together, every sleeping hour in each other’s presence. They sparred. They gamed. Marinette was trying to teach him how to cook, and he was trying to teach her swordplay.

They knew each other pretty well, for only having met twelve days ago. And they had a lifetime to keep getting to know each other. This was just the next step. The next piece of knowledge to fill out the puzzle of who their soulmate was.

And it felt right to have it filled in, officially.

—*—*—*—*—*

#maribat #mlb x dc #daminette #The Heroes’ Game

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nodesiretogrowup · 4 years

Text

LET’S GET READY TO RE-CAAAAAAAAP

“I have numerous science-based questions” I mean, same. It also sets up that Huey is gonna be out of his element this episode

SCROOGE HAS NO TIME FOR SCIENCE

“I AM THAT CHAMPION.” A bit full of yourself there. I couldn’t hear this line without saying “I’M. THAT. HERO.” Oh VeggieTales, you’ll always be with me

THEY ALL LOOK SO ADORABLE!!

I like that Louie does a finger gun when Scrooge gets to him

Like I said earlier, I DO NOT care Scrooge already putting pressure on these kids

Poor Dewey seems like he’s the unfavorite, which is probably how Donald felt as well

Huey makes a good point and I do NOT like how dismissive Scrooge is of the twins

That being said...they totally killed someone in battle

SOMEDAY WE’LL FIND IT, THE RAINBOW CONNECTION!

Why didn’t Launchpad crash? I know he can land w/o crashing but it’s usually when he lands in water. THIS FEELS IMPORTANT SOMEHOW though it probably isn’t

“THEY FOUND A WAY TO MAKE RAINBOWS BETTER!” God, I love Webby

“This is the best day.” WEBBY, YOU ARE REACHING CRITICAL LEVELS OF ADORABLE

Birds with beards look odd

“Yeah, sure. Of course.” Poor Huey, magic and mythology aren’t his strong point

I love that it says Odin’s Closet over the shirts. It’s the little details

“Guess Louie knows what Louie’s doing today.” And then he disappears into the shirts. I can appreciate someone who knows what they’re about

I want ALL the shirts from this episode!

“WHOA, IT’S WRESTLING!” He looks so dang happy, it’s ADORABLE

“THIS IS AWESOME!” Chanting is fun

“So these guys just copied professional wrestling?” Huey, you’re form of logic is not welcome here

Does that mean Scrooge told someone about his battles and inspired them to create pro wrestling? I’m gonna go with that

“And they will love me for it!” Dewey, sweetie, that’s only how it works half the time

I loved all the man-snake stuff. Made me giggle

Man snake be THICC. HOT DAMN

I love the little pig ref. HE’S SO CUTE

Jormungandr knows how to pump up a crowd

So, like, is everyone in the audience technically DEAD?! That makes this episode slightly darker. I dig it

I wonder if Jormungandr sees Earth’s destruction as a good thing for Earth. Like if he genuinely thinks they’d be better off in Valhalla. Or if he’s just a bastard who wants to watch the world burn

Scrooge is a bit too into playing the heel

The way Scrooge moves and the faces he makes as the Millionaire Miser remind me of Glomgold

“I watch a lot of wrestling while I fly.” “Wait, while?” This exchange always cracks me up

“Uncle Scrooge is the greatest hero of all time.” “Huh, I guess not everyone thinks so.” I feel like this is foreshadowing later events

RIP Announcer Puffin

“DIBS ON ANNOUNCING!” A dude just got KO’d bro! Have a bit of respect

And the return of the dynamic sports announcer duo. Glad Huey got his badge

I NEED MORE WRESTLING ANNOUNCER LP

Strongbeard is DOPE

“How did you know that?” “Just calling it like I see it. WRESTLING!” The real reason Launchpad knows is because he’s actually Thor but doesn’t remember. I WILL DIE ON THIS HILL

FEAR THE BEARD

“What matters is I’m doing the right thing.” I don’t know, you really seem to enjoy being a heel

This whole match is great

Dewey, there ARE NO RULES IN WRESTLING. Plus you aren’t the ref, so you can’t make that call

I have very inappropriate jokes go through my head when only one arm absorbs the beard energy

“I am so confused.” CONSTANT MOOD

DID SCROOGE NARUTO RUN AT STRONGBEARD?!

I like that Scrooge dives onto him the same way he dives into his bin

LP is so excited he pushes Huey out of the way for NO REASON

HOLY FUCK THAT DUDE THREW A CHAIR AT A CHILD!

All the bone cracking in this episode made me uncomfortable, as in my bones hurt during it

“He is such a good guy.” I’d say he’s a fair guy, not necessarily a good guy

“Which two of you will fight for me?” Webby has been waiting for this moment her WHOLE LIFE

Louie, always taking time to make that money

Who gave him a shirt cannon?!

I love that the dude comes up wearing the shirt

Dewey just slaps Scrooge in the face

Champ POPular! Too cute! I love his hair and outfit. Though I don’t think Champ POPular’s “too popular to hate.” If anything he might annoy people due to his popularity

I thought he was gonna pull out yo-yos as his “finishing touch” and I was sad when it was lollipops even though that makes more sense. BRING BACK THE YO-YOS!

“Do all the fighting and make sure he doesn’t die.” That is a valid concern

WE WILL WE WILL ROCK YOU! I’D KNOW IT ANYWHERE

Huey taking notes is adorable

“Just in time for the tag-team round.” “Wait, they’re playing tag now?! MAN!” I love how Danny says MAN

How does Huey not know what a tag-team is? It’s a pretty common term

I love Launchpad’s reading face

Dewey has red, blue, and green lollipops. Cute

“HE’S THROWING LOLLIPOPS BECAUSE HE THINKS WE’RE SUCKERS!” That took me off guard and I laughed so hard

“I’ve known you my whole life, I kinda knew how this would play out.” Louie is genre savvy. Perhaps too savvy. He’s gonna figure out he’s in a tv show

“More like Champ POP..ulation zero because he has no friends...in Friendtown.” I fail to see how that was any worse than LP’s “more like Champ UN-POPular.”

“WE HATE YOU NOW!” Tough crowd

Huey’s face after that. I just want to pinch his lil cheeks

WEBBY DON’T NEED NO WRESTLER NAME

It TOTALLY went over my head that they censored Hela with Hecka (at least they used her better than the MCU did. WE COULD HAVE HAD SO MUCH BETTER)

I would let her pin me to the mat and crush my skull in

“Oh, COME ON, THIS is what you like?! A creepy goth and her pet dog!” SHUT UP, DEWEY, THAT IS EXACTLY WHAT I WANT! I’m surprised Webby didn’t slap him for the “creepy goth” comment seeing as Lena is goth and misunderstood

“HECKA YEAH! HECKA YEAH!” SHE’S SO COOL AND SEXY AND SHE HAS A DOG

Poor Huey, he’s doing his best. Hope he takes a shower later because he got pretty sweaty

HECKA COULD STEP ON ME AND I’D SAY THANK YOU

Why did Huey have all those corn puns?

“YOU’RE THE WORST! YOU’RE THE WORST!” It’s just not Huey’s day

“You don’t have to try to make it sound great, it already is.” Did this remind anyone else of Dewey’s “don’t overthink it” advice to Launchpad from Double-O Duck? He’s doing his best to help Huey

I WANT HECKA TO DESTROY ME

“EMBRACE THE BOOZE BOOS.”

Poor Dewey

WEBBY IS A BEAST! SHE WAS BORN FOR THIS!

“EMBRACE YOUR INNER HEEL!” Cuz being a heel is fun!

DUDE, WEBBY TOOK DOWN THE GODDESS OF DEATH WITH NOTHING BUT HER LEGS AND THIGHS! WE STAN!

I like that Fenny has knee pads on

“AW, YOU’RE SO DANGEROUS AND CUTE! I JUST WANT TO PET YOUR LITTLE BELLY!” WEBBY IS ME

“A classic ‘who’s a good boy?’ gambit!” AND I’D FALL FOR IT TOO! SUCH A GOOD BOI

“Wait, am I the Launchpad here?” Bitch, you WISH

“YOU CAN’T GIVE CANDY TO A DOG!” This is why you don’t have a pet, Dewey

“WHOA, back from THE DEAD for the QUEEN of the DEAD!”

Kind of a dick move, Louie

AIR GUITAR!

Jormungandr looks like a Masters of the Universe knock-off toy

WHO’S A GOOD BOI? YOU ARE!

“With a toxic personality” I think you’re projecting a bit, Jormungandr

How does Huey not know what a battle royale is? That is a very common term! Hell, there is a well known book and movie with that title!

“I’m just a humble, noble snake man of the people.” Why does the term snake man make me laugh so much?

WOY REFERENCE FTW

Dewey needs a hug! And some therapy would probably be a good idea

Scrooge’s speech started on a good note then went downhill FAST

“And lastly, I’ll use the dust of your bones as sweetener in my tea.” DAMN

“TOO FAR!” I DON’T THINK IT’S FAR ENOUGH! TELL HIM HOW YOU WILL BATHE IN HIS BLOOD

FUCK YEAH BEAKLEY!

SHE GAVE HIM THE CHAIR! I think this CONFIRMS Beakley as a wrestling fan

“I know we’re supposed to take over for Scrooge one day, but do you ever wonder if maybe we’re not cut out for it?” YOU SHOULDN’T HAVE TO WONDER THOSE THINGS AT ALL!

Louie’s like WE DON’T HAVE TIME FOR THIS SHIT!

“Be LP” My new mantra

Aw, Louie sees Dewey as a hero. Like how LP saw Drake as a hero. I think @drakepad is onto something, this scene and the fight scene seem WAAAAY too much like Drake’s intro to be just a coincidence

I keep saying this, but Louie should consider a career in motivational speaking. He knows what people need to hear

“Let’s do this!” “I don’t know.” “Let’s Dewey this?” “I’m in.”

“I’LL SHED YOUR SKIN FOR YOU!” If he hadn’t of had an old man back moment that would have been a BRUTAL CUT

OMG WAS LAUNCHPAD WEARING THAT THE WHOLE TIME? You see his clothes fly off when he jumps in the ring

“Whoa. In a COMPLETELY UNEXPECTED TWIST, the announcer was Captain Crash THIS WHOLE TIME!” LP does underground wrestling matches in his spare time, TELL ME I’M WRONG

“YOUR CATCHPHRASES ARE FORCED!” I agree, Dewey could have done WAY BETTER

I like Louie just GLARING at the dude who insulted Dewey’s catchphrase

LP looks so proud of Huey

“I don’t care at all, why should I?” Methinks the snake man doth protest too much

I like how Jormungandr’s pupils are thinner during the climax. It shows off his true nature

Dewey should have been the one to do a spin attack, ya know, cuz he’s Sonic? I’ll go now

“The Pop never Stops.” That was better

WHERE ARE ALL THESE CHAIRS COMING FROM?!

I LEGIT thought Strongbeard was gonna throw Dewey his axe and I was like Dewey wouldn’t be able to lift that

SUPER SAIYAN DEWEY! Also was that a TIGER SNARL?

I like the ice pack on Launchpad’s head. Just because he can take a lot of damage doesn’t mean that LP is immune to pain

I like that the crowd CHANGED THEIR BANNERS! Nice

LOUIE AND WEBBY LOOKED SO CUTE!

LP tearing up

“A true people’s hero” I feel like that phrase will come back in relation to other characters (cough DW cough)

Scrooge is such a little shit, it’s kind of adorable

THAT END SHOT! THAT SONG!

This was a SUPER FUN EPISODE! I couldn’t really tell where they were going and I LOVED EVERY SECOND OF IT! I wish we had gotten Huey in some wrestling gear but maybe next time. I like the message that doing the right thing isn’t always popular but I kind of feel like Dewey getting the crowd on his side muddled the message somewhat. Poor Dewey needs therapy or something so he doesn’t feel like he needs CONSTANT approval. Again, he’s 11 YEARS OLD and shouldn’t be put into such a serious position. LP was VIP this episode. I’m bummed we’re on hiatus again, but WHAT an episode to end on!

#ducktales #dt spoilers

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crystalconjunx · 5 years

Note

Can I request tfa blitzwing with female human s/o nsfw

You weren't entirely sure when your relationship with the triple-changer changed. You just knew that it had.

You were but a humble mechanic taken hostage with a few of your fellow Detroiters when you managed to strike up a conversation with one of your beleaguered kidnappers: a large german-accented Decepticon with three different faces who went by the name Blitzwing. The monocled blue face refused to look at you and the angry red one shouted insults at you, but the jack-o-lantern-esque one that called itself "Random" seemed more than happy to chat. At least, until help arrived and the autobots promptly saved the day.

You thought that was that until, one day, the same large three-faced mech plummeted into your backyard and just barely missed destroying your workshop.

He seemed injured, but the blue face with the monocle still pointedly ignored you even as he nursed an injured leg. Not knowing how to help, but not wanting to just leave the mech injured like that, you offered him some oil. That's what these guys drank, right?

Without a word of thanks, he picked the barrel up and cracked the top like a can of soda before chugging the whole thing down.

Then he transformed right in front of you. You found the way his parts moved absolutely mesmerizing. It was a perfect shifting of gears and plates almost too quick for human eyes to follow.

Before you knew it, he had launched back into the air and flew away towards the city.

Ever since then, the jet-slash-tank-slash-giant robot had made himself plenty comfortable with crashing your workshop whenever he pleased and helping himself to whatever oil or gas you had lying around. Then he'd get familiar with the stack of cars he'd made into a couch and watch television while you worked on whatever car you had in the shop while simultaneously insulting, mocking,

At least he actually spoke to you now.

"You puny humans can't even make good oil," Hothead complained over the offending barrel in his large hand. "It always tastes like dirt and dinosaur bones!"

"Well, what's it supposed to taste like?" You ask.

"Like energon! The way it's supposed to!"

"And what does energon taste like?"

"Like energon, obviously!"

"Wait, so there's nothing on Earth to compare it to?" You question.

"Not even close! It's awful."

Damn human biology. Space goop poisoning was probably only a small price to pay to be the first person on Earth to try an alien substance. "Damn, wish I could try it then. Well, try it and live to tell the tale."

"I do have some." Icy said calmly.

They were the first words he'd spoken to you at all.

"Not enough for my tanks," he continued boredly, "but it would likely be more than you could drink."

"Really? What do you think would happen if I drank it?" You asked.

"Only one way to find out!" Random's still transforming face laughed gleefully before pulling a purple cube out of his subspace. It was laughably small in his hands, but it was about the size of a mail package in yours. It was full of bright, pink-purplish liquid and was surprisingly light.

"Wait, wait, isn't this stuff, like, super rare?" You ask as you accepted the cube. "I thought that was the reason you left your homeworld."

"Only a teensy part of it." Random giggled. "The rest is unimportant. It's really, really, super rare, though, so don't drop it!"

"And you're… just going to give it to me?" You asked in awe. "Are you sure?"

How could Blitzwing just offer you something so rare. You half-expected the mech to kill you at any given time. Now he was just giving you what could very well be a priceless alien energy source?

"Well, do you want it or not?" Hothead demanded. "Like I said, it's barely half a tank for me. At least if I give it to you I might see a human— I don't know. What do you guys do when you die? Pop or something?"

"Ooh!" Random interjected. "I love it when they pop! Come on, Y/N, down the hatch! Let's see what other colors you organics have!"

That was the first time any of the personalities had said your name. So Blitzwing did remember all those times you told him you weren't just called 'human,' the lying bastard.

"Well…" The bright pink liquid certainly looked palatable enough. Maybe just a little taste wouldn't kill you?

You lifted the cube up and gave it a small sniff. It didn't smell toxic, at least.

"Ugh, don't be such a coward, human!" Hothead complained. Ah, you lamented, there went the first-name basis. You heard rather than saw his face transform again before Random petulantly nudged the drink with his finger— it was a move too weak to send you onto your ass, but more than enough to make you jolt and spill half the cube of energon all over yourself.

"Look what you did, you waste of space!" Hothead roared. "I told you that energon was rare and you spill half of it on yourself like a newspark!"

You sputtered as the pinkish liquid seeped into your clothes and soaked every inch of your skin and set the rest of the cube down before turning to scowl up at the giant mech. "Me? You're the one that poked it! You almost knocked me over!"

"It's not my fault you're so weak, Y/N!" He mocked before Icy took over.

The cool jet leaned down to the ground, his optics peering at you as if he could see right through you. Even his breath carried a slight chill as he spoke this close to you.

"That was quite the waste, Schatz, but I have an idea of how you can make it up to me."

"Y-yeah?" You said as you could feel the cold against your wet skin, "And what's that?

You were suddenly in the hands of a very large, powerful robot and much, much further off the ground than you would have liked.

"I'll just clean it off you! Two birds, one tongue!" Random sang, already lifting his claws to cut away the stained clothes from your body.

You hadn't seen his tongue before, but now you couldn't figure out how you didn't notice it. It was long and prehensile, thin at the tip and thicker towards the base as it snaked out of his mouth and onto the skin of your thigh.

"Well, schatz?" Random offered with a salacious wink. "What do you say?"

You'd be lying to yourself if you said you didn't find the mech attractive. Sure, he was crazy, and dangerous, and a total jerk sometimes, but you couldn't shake the feeling that he was somehow different from the rest of the Decepticons. You'd hoped his persistent presence was a sign that he tolerated you, even if only a bit.

What could it hurt?

"Alright," you agreed. "Just, uh, be careful, please, Blitzy"

"Y/n! You wound me!" Random said sadly before he suddenly shifted your legs ever so slightly apart with a single thumb. "Don't worry, schatz. You'll make it up to me." He promised.

You didn't have time to question that sentence as his tongue was suddenly licking a wet stripe up your the sides of your hip from your torso.

"Ah," Icy said. "I missed the taste of energon." His tongue was cold as it trailed up your abdomen, swirling across a wide smear of energon on your chest while you squealed at the sudden chill to your warm skin.

"Stop moving or I'll drop you!" Hothead commanded. His warm tongue wrapped down across your thighs.

The tongue has you licked clean in a matter of moments.

Blitzwing appears no worse for wear as he smiles down at you.

You, meanwhile, are a mess. You're panting in his hands, feeling like you're about to fall apart under his unblinking optics.

"Uh-oh," Random frowns in that sing-song voice of his. "Looks like I missed a spot!"

He reaches down, grabs the container, and pours the cool liquid across your hips. It slips between your thighs, flows into your spread-open pussy and runs freely down his palm.

Random's tongue immediately laps at your slit, humming in pleasure at the taste of the energon as he slides it further inside you. He flicks his tongue up and down inside you, feeling for sensitive spots as he buries his face in your thighs. He lets the thin edge tangle and untangle against your walls. Then he just lightly glances against that spot, the one that makes you cry out in pleasure and squeeze around him and he attacks it without mercy. He holds you open effortlessly as he tongue-fucks you into his hand. You think you're begging, but you can't tell. You can't hear anything as you focus on the unrelenting pleasure against your g-spot.

And then you're cumming onto his tongue with a muffled cry, ineffectually pushing at his head as he pulls out to lap at your sensitive clit.

He takes much longer cleaning you up the second around.

#valveplug #tfa blitzwing #blitzwing/reader #reader insert #human!reader #this approached vore with alarming speeds and that was NOT my intention lmao #here be bussy fellas

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atlas-of-a-human-soul · 5 years

Text

Non disclosure agreements pt.2

Summary: Shawn is desperate to talk to Y/N and fix things.

Warnings: mostly angst, some fluff

Word count: ~ 2.3k

Part 1

I moved my fingers around an almost empty bowl, grabbing a few popcorn and popped them in my mouth.

“This is a future memory.” Stefan begins the same line Shawn used and I frown, glaring at the television as if it’s the source of all evil.

“BOOO!” I couldn’t hold myself back, throwing the rest of my popcorn at the screen in frustration.

A weekend inside with The Vampire Diaries while the outside turned into winter wonderland was not ideal, but I needed it.

Shawn liked snow. He adored every damn snowflake, but I hated it. It was cold and wet, slippery and a hazard for clumsy people like me. Although Shawn fell on daily bases once ice rolled into town, he still enjoyed the weather...despite my Bambi jokes.

Shawn...

I’d be lying if I said he wasn’t on my mind all the time. I couldn’t sleep, finding him in my dreams every time I close my eyes. Watching his favorite TV show only to point out every time he used their lines on me wasn’t helping the situation and yet, I found it therapeutic. Not the words, but me boo-ing each line. Food? Well, I couldn’t get enough of food.

I scroll through my Twitter and Instagram, finding he didn’t post anything new since our break up.

Was he suffering too?

Good.

I know it’s childish and silly, but I wanted him to be hurt as I am. I was stuck in limbo, half of me loving him and the other one hating him. The part who clung to him had turned desperate and hateful toward the one who resented that NDA he presented me with. The hateful part...well, it simply despised him in every way.

I never thought he’d be the one to break my heart.

His sexiest quality by far is emotional warmth, nothing else comes close. Yet, I find myself freezing since the moment he pulled out those papers.

That sane part of me understood him, empathized with him. People always come and go in his life, all of them in search of something he could give them. Once they receive it, they disappear and take a part of him with them.

Shawn is the type to give his all to anyone he meets and regardless how difficult it is, he never showed to be disappointed when they leave. I guess it finally took its toll on him and I had to pay the price.

A soft knock on my door brings me out of this particular thought and I stand up, wrapping myself into a blanket. Trudging my way to the door, I quickly rub my eyes to make myself seem happier.

Forgetting to check who’s on the other side, I open the door and gasp unintentionally.

“Hear me out, okay?” Shawn stands with his palms pressed together, pleading. His eyes are tired, dark circles surrounding them. His usually styled curls are a mess, sticking out in different directions, unruly and wild like they turned only behind closed bedroom doors.

“Think I made myself clear.” With a heavy heart, I push the door closed. But Shawn had a different idea.

Shawn’s quick to push his way in, despite my attempt to keep him out.

I narrow my eyes at him, crossing my arms over my chest. I stay rooted to the spot, a breeze from the hallway moving my hair softly away from my face. Shawn keeps his eyes steady, remaining on my face as if they’re finally home again, just briefly before the sorrow in them starts to build up.

“Remember how happy we were! I’m begging you!” His voice is laced in desperation and it pricks at my heart like thorns of a red rose, a flower he frequently gifted me with.

I bite my lower lip, sucking on the soft flesh nervously, looking anywhere but at him with uncertainty. Should I let him speak, my resolve might waver. Should he break my resolve, it will chip away a piece of who I am and it will be lost to me forever. My features buckle just slightly before I speak, the only betrayal of my grief.

“I think you should leave, Shawn.” I try and push back at all those happy memories we’ve made so far, finding they’re agonizing now.

“Hey! This is going to sound really stupid, but I saw you from across the street and I really wanted to kiss you. What do you say, eh?” Starting with the first words he ever spoke to me.

I recognized him instantly, thinking it was a prank of some sorts. Yet, I didn’t complain when he pressed his lips against mine and took the very breath from my lungs.

For a guy who claimed he has no game, he certainly proved otherwise that day.

“Now that we’re acquainted, what do you say about having a cup of coffee with me?” And he was smooth, charming...a perfect combination of sexy and fluff and I couldn’t resist him.

“Is this where we say goodbye? The end of the road?” He steps closer, looking down on me just like he did the first time we met. Just like he did every damn day after that; softly, gently, longingly. It’s the kind of a look that makes you sure love is visible, tangible and real.

“God, the way you look at me. Stop looking at me like that.” I speak through gritted teeth, running a hand through my hair as my emotions run wild.

I want to kiss him and slap him at the same time. I want to run my fingers through his hair and pull at it, caress him and push him away...I’m a walking contradiction when he’s in question and it’s driving me insane. Absolutely insane.

Shawn chuckles and I know he’s got a bad habit of laughing at the worst possible time. He shakes his head to wipe that adorable smile from his face, knowing I might be insulted by the gesture, but I’m not. I know he meant nothing malicious by that burst of energy he couldn’t contain. I know his anxiety is at an all time high right now and I can’t hold it against him.

“I’ll always look at you like you’re the only one for me. Because you are.” Shawn takes a step closer, reaching toward me with his hands.

I follow them closely, closing my eyes once they make contact with my hips and the hold he has on me tightens.

“If I give you a chance to explain why you want that NDA right now, will you please be honest with me?” The words leaving my lips make no sense, but my mouth seems to be faster than my brain right now. He’s in my head and I keep on forgetting he’s taken over my heart and he’s at the very seams of my being. He became a vital, out of body organ I needed to function. I know it’s wrong, but everything changed when we met. He became the blood that runs through my veins, but I’d survive without him either way. I’d move on, however, he’d always be somewhere inside, forever stuck with me.

Being infected by Shawn Mendes is an incurable disease and I know all I can do is manage the symptoms as they come along.

“I never lied to you.” Shawn says quietly, leaning down to rest his lips on my forehead. They’re warm,...far too warm for someone who just came in from a blizzard. And that’s when I know...He’s been standing in front of my door for God knows how long in hopes of talking things through and I feel my heart soften ever so slightly.

“So talk to me. Shawn, why?” I press the palms of my hands on his chest, feeling his heart beat is fast, but in perfect rhythm with my own.

“Because I got hurt. Hailey, she...kind of betrayed my trust while I swore up and down she’d never do that. And the worst part is, she worked with the studio for that. By the time I was included, I had already invested time and feelings and it all went to waste. It’s why I kept us a secret for so long.” Shawn sighs against my skin, moving back to look at my face properly.

I couldn’t look him in the eye, staring at his perfectly plump lips instead as he spoke.

“I was scared they’d ask the same of you. And I know! I know you’re not her, but there’s this quiet voice in my mind that annoys the shit out of me. It questions me and it questions my ability to know who to trust and I know in my heart I can trust you. I do.” Shawn keeps rambling, most of it becoming unrecognizable as his thoughts come out jumbled and I know his anxiety is getting to him. I know he needs emotional stability and yet, I need to put my foot down. Should I let this slide every time he feels any anxiety, I’d sacrifice my own needs for him all the time and instead of a loving relationship, we’d turn toxic.

I press my index finger against his lips, finally looking up at his eyes.

“That’s irrational and you know it.”

Then he turns to go, shoulders sunken and his hands in his pockets. Before I know what I'm doing I'm standing in his way and we lock eyes, the perfect distance for a kiss, but he shakes his head. I can see my pain mirrored in his dark eyes.

“Shawn...You said you think I’m the only one for you. If that’s the case, is that NDA seriously more important than I am? Are you willing to let your fears hold you back from having happiness in your life? Will you let the label tell you who to date or will you make your own rules? Because that’s the Shawn I know and love.”

Shawn averts his eyes to the floor, looking at the fluffy black carpet he surprised me with on my birthday. He knew I loved anything soft that resembled animal fur without it actually being fur and he got this as a present. I loved him for it. I still love him for it.

“Shawn?” He always said he'd persuade his label when the time came that we weren’t a threat to his career. I guess they won after all.

He looks back up at me, following the sound of my voice on instinct. He always said he’d know my whisper in a screaming crowd.

We have a silent conversation as we stared into each others eyes. I finally look away, tears threatening to blur my vision, when a hand encircles mine. It’s soft and warm, reassuring almost, as If the owner of that hand sensed my desperation.

“You’re more important. I don’t really care for the NDA, I swear. I would place my life in your hands and trust you to keep it safe, let alone anything else. I was just angry that you didn’t even entertain the idea of signing. Like it was ridiculous. It felt like you didn’t understand me or the pressure they applied for a month until I caved to bring it before you.” He sighs and I blink fast, a tear slipping past my defenses.

He did fight for me.

He did.

“Why didn’t you tell me, Shawn? I wasn’t upset about the contract itself, but by the thought of you just letting them dictate our lives without a fight.” My bottom lip quivers and I notice his do the same as he looks up in exasperation.

“It’s not easy telling your girl you failed in something. Unfortunately, they wore me down and I really didn’t think you’d mind. I thought you’d laugh it off and sign it, throw it on some shelf to collect dust while we live our lives together.” Shawn admits, making eye contact once more.

I place a hand on either side of his face and observe him cautiously.

“You fought for me.” I pause, silently staring into my favorite whiskey colored eyes with adoration I’ve always had for him.

“It’s all I needed to know.” I smile, running my thumb across his cheek slowly.

“Of course. It always comes down to love of a girl and for me that was your love.” His lips turn up into a tiny smile, as he holds me tightly to his chest.

“That was a Damon line!” I exclaim, slapping his chest playfully.

“Founder’s party in season one, I think.” Shawn squints in an attempt to remember and I shake my head slightly.

“Sounds about right.” I add, confirming his thoughts since I basically watched the entire season yesterday.

“You’re not signing that contract.” Shawn leans down, kissing the top of my nose and I crinkle it in response.

“I’m grateful that you’re saying that now...but I’m gonna sign it.” I state, using the fact that his face is so close to me to leave a quick peck on his cheek.

“No, you’re not.” Shawn frowns, moving away from my face and I take in a deep breath.

“Are we going to fight about me wanting to sign it now? Because I’ll sign it to get them off your back. I don’t want you having anxiety over this anymore. You proved you love me, trust me...it’s enough for me. And I love you for it.” I whisper the last bit, capturing his lips into a kiss that feels just right.

“But tomorrow.” I break the kiss to look at him properly, my fingers wandering around the curls at the back of his head.

“I want to spend some quality naked time with my boyfriend tonight.” I smile cheekily and he grunts, connecting our lips hungrily once more.

Tags: @accalialionheart @xalayx @ourlittleshawnie @esoltis280

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