#you know when you know you're wrong but you keep being wrong out of defiance?

[hangmanssunnies]

The Hangman Special

Summary: On a night out with your friends at a fancy cocktail bar, you are just trying to keep your head down and ignore the girl that your ex cheated on you with. The night only seems like it's going to get worse when you are dared to kiss a stranger at the bar. However, it seems like the odds might finally be in your favor when you notice a familiar set of broad shoulders. If you can be convincing, you think you might just be able to get your brother's friend Jake "Hangman" Seresin to help you out with your little problem.

Pairings: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader

Word count: 7k

AO3 Link

Warnings: 18+ only, kissing, hot and heavy make-outs, exs, truth or dare, bad friends.

Author's note: Dreaming about kissing Jake in a bar. Thanks to everyone who looked at earlier drafts of this. I hope you enjoy this if you take a chance to read. My inbox is always open if you want to let me know your thoughts. Reblogs with your thoughts, opinions, and tags are gold to me. I love reading through them.

The bar is buzzing with the loud chatter of patrons, the clinking of glasses, and the rhythmic beat of music. You are sitting at a corner table with your friends, a group with an eclectic mix of personalities. You are known for being more on the shy and reserved side, but tonight, you are even more withdrawn than usual. No one had mentioned that Tassie had also been invited to the evening's hang out at the bar. An oversight you felt was probably intentional since everyone knew Tassie had started dating your ex only a week after your breakup. She went so far as to post a picture of them together on her Instagram. It had been a few months since that happened, and until now, you had managed to avoid running into her. However, it seemed like luck had run out.

"Hey, I've got an idea that would spice up the night," Cece says after the first round of drinks. She is one of your bold and outspoken friends, and you aren't sure you like how she is eyeing you with a mischievous glint. "Let's play truth or dare." 

The whole group groans at the suggestion, and one of your friends vaguely wonders if you're all still in middle school playing that kind of game. Despite the initial lack of enthusiasm, after another round of drinks, the group is laughing and entrenched in the game. 

When Cece sings your name when she finishes her turn, you are nervous by the sly smile she is wearing as she formulates an option for you when you hesitantly concede to doing a dare. "You're the only one of us still single, so I dare you to go over to the bar and give somebody a kiss." 

"What?!" 

"Just a quick one, nothing too scandalous," Cece says placatingly. "Come on, live a little! It's just a bit of fun. What's the worst that could happen?"

"I bet they won't do it. They're too chicken for this kind of thing, not one to step out of their comfort zone," Tassie says. It makes your blood freeze in your veins because you know those words. You have heard that criticism thrown at you in the past, but not from her, from your ex. 

Your eyes narrow at her, and you ask, "Too chicken? Seriously?"

"Yeah. Please, prove us wrong. Show us you can do something spontaneous," Tassie taunts, grinning. You feel a surge of defiance welling up. Even though you're reserved, you are not one to back down from a challenge, especially not when the woman who cheated with your boyfriend is acting like you're the one who should be ashamed. Acting like she is better than you. 

"Fine, watch this," You declare, feeling hot with a mixture of embarrassment and determination. As you stand up, your friends exchange amused glances, convinced that you are about to back out of the dare. 

With absolutely no intention of  backing down, though, you scan the bar. After a moment of examination your heart soars because you realize you have this dare in the bag. You have the advantage even, because there is a familiar tall, broad-shouldered blonde at the bar that you know all too well. Jake Seresin, or Hangman, is one of your brother's best friends, and he is looking just as delectable tonight as he always does. The group would undeniably be impressed with you kissing someone so handsome, and you knew one way or another you could convince Jake to help you out. 

"Cece, I'll even let you pick since you made the dare. Point out the hottest man in the bar, and I'll kiss him." You say confidently. There is no doubt that Jake is the most attractive person there, and he is just Cece's type, too. She falls right into what you want, pointing Hangman out for you. The rest of your friend group hoots, making even more comments that you aren't going to follow through with the dare and approach someone who is that drop-dead gorgeous. 

Ignoring their taunts, you square your shoulders and walk with as much confidence as you can summon into sashaying across the bar. Putting mental effort into trying to project some form of hotness onto yourself not only for the confidence boost but also the bit of spite burning in you. 

Reaching the bartop area, the hesitation starts to set in as you admire Jake's profile. He is sitting on a bar stool leaning against the counter, patiently waiting for the bartender in the crowd that is starting to grow. Taking one last breath to steady yourself, you reach out and delicately set a hand on his bulging bicep. 

"Hangman!" You say brightly as if you're surprised to have run into him. Jake turns to face you at your touch, and an easy wide grin spreads across his face. 

"Fancy seeing you here, my dear! How are you?" He asks as his eyes trace you slowly from head to toe and back again, the grin on his face not slipping once. 

"Oh, I’m fine, and I am so glad I ran into you." 

"Most people are," Jake says, winking at you. You are nearly distracted by his handsome face and flirty tone. He looks like he has put on even more muscle since you saw him last. The green button-down he is wearing appears close to bursting at the seams with how it clings to him. "So, what have you been up to these days?" 

"Are you still single?" You blurt quickly, ignoring his question, not wanting to lose your steam. 

"Yes, Ma'am. Last I checked. Why?" 

"Perfect, can you do me a huge favor?" You ask. 

"I'm always happy to help out a friend," Jake says, sounding increasingly suspicious. The smile hasn't dropped from his face, but his eyes have narrowed slightly, examining you. 

Quickly standing on your tip toes, you loop an arm around Jake's neck, appreciating that he is sitting on a stool, helping level your height difference. Wasting no time, you pull him down to meet you in a quick kiss. Once his lips brush yours, you let go of him, stepping back, not even taking a moment to savor the feeling or enjoy having Jake this close. 

With your mission accomplished, you have every intention of making a hasty retreat back to your friends and hoping that you will be able to forget this. You are going to erase knowing you've kissed Jake Seresin from your brain, and then the next time you see him, you're going to pretend this fiasco never happened. It feels like the best and only course of action for you to take. 

However, you don't even get to make a full step away from Jake before large hands and thick arms circle around your waist, pulling you back towards him. He tugs until you are standing between his spread thighs, his hands maintaining their position on your waist. 

"Woah now, where do you think you're going?" He asks, eyes darting around your face, studying you closely. 

Embarrassment at having to explain your actions rushes through you, turning your stomach and overriding or maybe enhancing the butterflies there. You glance away from Jake towards your friends and see them watching with rapt attention. Then his thumb moves in a slow soothing circle, drawing you back towards him. 

"I'm sorry! My friends dared me to kiss someone at the bar, and when I saw you, well, I knew it wasn't a lost cause because you're not a complete stranger." 

You refuse to believe that the frown that flashes on Jake's face is one of disappointment. However, it's hard to ignore when his eyebrows are scrunched together, and his hands are so warm you feel it bleeding through your clothing. 

"You could at least buy someone a drink before stealing a kiss, you know. That's just some common decency." 

"I'm so sorry, Jake," you apologize again. "Let me buy you a beer for your troubles." 

"Naw, you don't got to." 

"Well, now I have to because you made me feel bad," you say, waving your arm to try and flag down a bartender. 

"I didn't take you for one to just kiss someone on a dare," he says conversationally. You try not to wriggle uncomfortably in his hold, but without even trying, he seems to have pulled you even closer. 

"I normally wouldn't be," you agree. "But the girl who I highly suspect of cheating with my ex while we were still together is here. I'm sure she thinks she's better than me and that I'm a boring prude."

"She clearly has never been around when you drink tequila," Jake laughs. You can't believe he would still remember the camping trip from years ago, where you were drinking tequila. Definitely notable because it was probably the last time you had dared have any of the liquor. 

"Can you please forget about that? And tonight, too?" You request. Jake pretends to think it over, humming lightly before shaking his head. 

"Sorry, no can do. It's already burned into my eidetic memory." You huff at his response, avoiding eye contact with him to try and catch sight of the bartender again. "You know, if you just asked me first, I would have given you the friends and family discount." 

"And what is that?" 

"Pretty similar to buy one get one free," he says, his voice dropping a little lower. Your mouth falls open in surprise, but you can't find any words. "Could have given you more than a quick peck, something that would really wow your friends." 

Trying very hard not to imagine what kind of kiss Jake would consider wowing, you decide to deflect. Jokingly saying, "Didn't think you were from one of those kinda southern states. Do you make a habit of kissing family members?" 

Jake throws his head back and laughs full-bellied at you. "The friends and family of my friends discount then," he amends. 

"I already hate being in this situation. I don't want more of a pity handout than I've already taken."

"Darlin," he sighs, shaking his head at you. "I would have even given you the Hangman special. Which is a deal, bargain, and steal. Comes with a kiss that's guaranteed to impress friends, people who cheated with your atrocious ex, everyone in this bar, and has even been known to, on occasion, inspire a standing ovation." 

"Ha.Ha. You're so funny," you say dryly, rolling your eyes. 

"I am, thank you for noticing," Jake says. "However, I think you deserve that kind of kiss to prove a point to your friends over there." 

"They didn't even think I would be able to make it over here to talk to you." You admit to him, glancing over at your friends again, a little displeased that they are still obviously observing your interaction.

"That them over there?" He asks, following the direction you're looking. You hum in acknowledgment. "Which one's the cheater?" He breathes, his lips ghosting the shell of your ear, sending a shudder down your spine. 

You describe Tassie a bit to him, finding yourself shifting closer into his embrace, enjoying how he is somehow able to help most of the chaotic bar disappear from your senses. It's hard to think about the noise or the increasing number of people starting to press in when Jake's touching you. When he picks out who she is, Jake grunts a little. He lowers his face and nearly kisses your neck over the pulse point. His hot breath tickles the spot, causing shivers again as he declares, "I don't see the appeal." 

"Wish my ex felt that way," you sigh. 

"Fuck him," Jake says with conviction. Drawing a bit back from you to make eye contact again. His green eyes are clear, and in the dimmed mood light around you, they seem to shine even brighter than usual. 

"You sure you don't mind me having kissed you to prove a point?" 

"My dear," he laughs like you told him a funny joke. "I can't imagine a situation where I would mind you kissing me. Let alone one where I get to help you out." 

Sliding your hand up his chest to casually rest on his shoulder, you wonder, "Is the Hangman Special still available?"

"Yes, Ma'am."

"Guaranteed to be wowing?" You check. 

"Got a warranty for you and everything," Jake says lowly. 

Your hand curls around Jake's neck again, and you attempt to tug him closer to you. He doesn't even budge, though. One of his hands slowly traces up your side from your waist until he is cupping your cheek. Then Jake leans close, his breath ghosting over your lips, where he lingers for a moment. Your eyes flutter closed, and as soon as they do, his lips press to yours. This time, it's not a quick peck. 

He is slow and deliberate in how he kisses you. Tilting his head to the side to get a slightly better angle, Jake uses his hand on your face to urge your lips to align better with his. Pliable to his touch, you open your mouth to him, seeking even more, and rewarded when Jake's tongue brushes against your own. You never doubted that Jake would be a good kisser, but knowing firsthand is something you know you won't be able to erase from your memory. When the kiss starts to border on indecent, he pulls away. 

You linger in the moment, keeping your eyes closed until your heart doesn't feel like it's going to burst from your chest. While you are in that limbo spot, his thumb slowly strokes your cheekbone. Sea glass green is the first thing you see when opening them again, Jake not making any effort to veil how he is admiring you. His lips are slightly pinker now than they just were, and you can't help but imagine how pink and swollen they would get if you had the opportunity to get this man alone on a couch. 

Just as you consider requesting that he kiss you again, just to really really solidify how good you are to your friends, because obviously, three kisses are much better than the one they dared you to get, you are suddenly bumped from behind. The motion roughly shoves you against Jake's solid chest. Both his hands automatically return to your waist, tightening as he steadies you there. Glaring over your shoulder at whoever bumped you, he asks, "Are you okay?" 

"Yeah, I'm okay," you breathe. Being this close to him, the woodsy scent of his cologne tickles your nose. And you suddenly wonder why exactly he is in this upscale cocktail bar dressed so nicely. 

"I'm glad you decided to kiss me and not any of these other assholes," he mutters darkly, still glaring over your shoulder. 

"Well, it wasn't really a choice." You reveal, which has his eyes snapping back to you in an instant and a frown pulling at his lips. One of his thumbs that's resumed making circles on your waist stops, and the other falls off your waist entirely now. He doesn't move otherwise, but his presence feels less consuming. Tersely, he responds, "I see." 

"I may have skewed the odds. Told my friends to pick the hottest man they could find. What would you know? They picked you." You explain quickly.

"That's some good luck on your part." 

"It wasn't luck, not really."

"How do you mean?" He wonders. 

"I knew they would pick you." 

"What made you so confident?"

"Because, Jake, you are, hands down, the most attractive person here," you reveal to him shyly. Your fingers curling into his silky shirt, where they have found themselves on his chest after being pushed. 

"See now, I don't think that's true," he says, his eyebrows pulling together. The frown is gone though, the edges of his lips quirking up again. 

"Oh please, Jake. Do not pretend you don't know how handsome you are."

"I'm aware. However, that doesn't change the fact that you're the most attractive person in this bar tonight." 

"You're a flirt," you accuse him. 

"I am," he agrees with no argument. "But that don't make me dishonest or mean I'm not genuine. I haven't been flirting with you just for the sake of it." 

Warmth blooms in your center at his words, and you nearly forget all about trying to escape away from him. Right now, you just want to get closer, as close as he will let you. However, you are pulled out of the fantasy when you look away from Jake's intense gaze to see your friends and how most of the table seems shocked and scandalized. Wryly, you notice Cece giving you two thumbs up. It's like you could almost forget that this was just him being flirty and imagine he was kissing you for more than just helping prove a point. "Well, I appreciate your help with the Hangman Special. I know they will all be impressed and jealous when I head back over there." 

"Now, wait a moment. You can't just sneak away. The Hangman Special not only comes with mind-blowing kisses but also a free night out, all expenses paid, and dinner at any restaurant you choose. "

"You just give that away to any random person who asks?"

"No, only the pretty ones I've had my eye on for a long while," Jake says, his eyes intense, the hand still on your waist flexing tighter for a moment.

"You have?" You ask, completely surprised. 

"Yes, Ma'am," he replies with no hesitation. Before you can respond, the bartender finally makes his way over to you two, asking for your order. Jake instantly defers to you before ordering, asking, "What do you want, my dear?" 

"I thought I already told you I'm taking one of the Hangman specials." You say, after taking a moment to think it over. The grin that lights up Jake's face is sunny and bright, and if you weren't being supported by his strong body, you would have probably fallen over swooning. 

Turning back to the bartender, Jake requests two bottles of water and both of your tabs. As you peek over his shoulder while he signs, you see the bill consists of just one beer, the water, and the two drinks you've had tonight. 

"So you want the full experience?" He asks you when you've taken a sip of water, and he has downed half of his in the same time. 

"From what I know about you, Jake, I don't think you're someone who does things by halves," you answer, fiddling with one of the buttons on his silky green shirt. Then you are pushing a bit on his chest, trying to step away. When you do, Jake's hands find themselves on your hips again pulling you closer to him. 

"Where you going?" He pouts. 

"I just need to grab my purse." 

"Whatcha you need your purse for, sweetheart? Don't you know I ain't going to let you pay for nothing?" Jake drawls. 

"I'm sure you want that to come off gentlemanly, but you're close to flirting with misogynistic." You say, playfully poking a finger into his chest.

"No." Grabbing your hand and bringing it up to his lips, Jake brushes a kiss on your pulse point, saying, "I know exactly who I'm flirting with, and that is you, my dear." 

The laugh you let out is slightly involuntary, but it makes Jake look like he won a prize, so you can't be too displeased, especially not when he has resumed drawing circles on your skin, and it feels like some sort of hypnosis you never want to end. "I'll be right back, and you can keep flirting with me for as long as you like." 

"That a promise?" Jake asks.

"Sure thing," you agree, but Jake still hasn't let go of you. 

"Do you want some company?" 

"You don't have to." 

"Little worried you're going to try and sneak away," he admits. 

"But Jake, I am sneaking away," you say in a fake whisper as if sharing a secret. "Sneaking away with you from my friends and this bar." It makes him smile again, just like you were hoping it would. "Just wait here for me. Okay?"

"Okay," he reluctantly agrees. Despite agreeing, the hold he has on your hand actually slightly tightens. "One more kiss?"

"I'm starting to get the feeling that you're always going to want one more kiss."

"You already know me so well," Jake grins. You press your lips against his again in a quick kiss, careful not to get caught up in it, before slipping out of his grasp. When free, you practically skip away from Jake to grab your things. 

Arriving back to your friends, you're greeted with loud whooping and even some clapping thrown in. Cece is practically giggling as she says, "I really didn't think you had that in you." 

"What were you talking about for so long?" Another one of the group asks.

"Was that kiss as hot as he is?" Someone else wonders, and then questions are coming from every direction before you can answer any of them. 

"It was great, he's great." You manage to get in. When they start to flood you with even more questions, you cut them off. "I would love to talk all about it, but I'm sorry y'all, I'm actually just over here to grab my purse." 

"There is no way you are leaving with that guy," Tassie says incredulously. 

Irritation and anger flares up in you as you turn to glare at her. "Really, there's no way? And why would that be Tassie?" 

"Come on," she says, clearly surprised that you've decided to call her out. "You're just not the kind of person to go home with someone from the bar, and he doesn't really seem like your type." 

"I don't know how tall, handsome, funny, and phenomenal kisser could not be someone's type," You say harshly, snatching your purse and jacket from where you had been sitting. 

"I'm just trying to look out for you," she responds sharply. 

"I don't think that's true," you snap back. 

"Hey now, why don't we all chill out," your friend Marv cuts in placatingly. 

"Sorry to interrupt," a familiar southern drawl says from behind as a warm arm wraps around your shoulder. You nearly sag into Jake. The urge to explode on your friends, more specifically Tassie, instantly absorbed by his presence. "But I was promised I could take this one out on a date tonight." 

"We can't let our friend just leave with a stranger," Cece says, and you turn to narrow your eyes at her, frowning that she is butting in when she is the one who set all this into motion in the first place. 

"While I respect that, I don't think you get to make that decision," Jake says lightly and a lot nicer than you would have in that moment. 

"You could be a crazy serial killer or something," Tassie says. 

"While I am a killer, that's normally just how people describe me in bed," he answers in a flirty, exaggerated way. That has you nearly coughing, you suck in air so hard. He gently pats your back and continues on. "If you're really worried though, you can look me up on Instagram. That's at LT.H_ANGM_N. I hope y'all have a good night. I know we will be," Jake punctuates the sentence with a kiss to the side of your head. 

Stuck between laughing and balking you glance around at everyone’s surprised faces at Jake’s boldness. You know exactly what Jake's last Instagram post was, having spent several minutes the other day debating whether you should like the shirtless picture of him on the beach. 

"Are you ready, sweetheart?" Jake asks you, practically muttering the words in your ear. All he needs is your nod before he confidently starts to turn you and lead you out the door. You manage to throw your friends a small wave goodbye, but it only takes a few steps for them to be out of your mind. 

"Did you drive?" Jake asks you as the fresh evening air rushes over you both. 

"No.” And you’re glad you didn’t when it means Hangman will be driving you home.  

"Good," he grins, "do you mind me driving?" 

"I don't," you answer easily, completely content to follow Jake to wherever he is going to lead you. 

He stops in front of a Jeep Gladiator, and you aren't overly surprised by his taste in vehicles. He goes to open the passenger side door for you, but you don't immediately take his offered hand to get inside. Instead, you tug it as you lean against the side of the truck. Jake follows the motion easily, not hesitating to bend down and mold his lips to yours. 

Jake looms over you, one of his hands balancing his weight against the side of the truck just over your head. The other on your side pulling you a bit closer to him. Looping your arm around his neck for some leverage, you let Jake take over your senses. The softness of his tongue paired with how he nibbles at your lower lip pulls a little whine from you.

When you have to pull away for a ragged breath, Jake groans low in his throat as you press teasing kisses down the column of his neck to the V of skin his shirt shows off. The hand on your waist slides up to cup your cheek and pulls you back to his lips. Kissing Jake is easy, he doesn't leave enough room for you to question if he's enjoying it. Nor do you have the capacity to overthink it as Jake's lips move surely and confidently with your own. All there is is him, his warm strong body, soft lips, and the calluses of his fingers. 

Leaning backward, you pull Jake with you wanting to have him pressed flush because even though you're tasting him, caged in, surrounded by him it still isn't close enough. However, the motion presses one of the Jeep’s jutting door hinges sharply into your back. You can't help but gasp a small "ow" as you try to shift. Concern creases Jake's features, and he pulls you away from his truck into his chest, glowering at the vehicle as if it had somehow betrayed him. 

"You okay, darlin?" He asks, his hands tracing down your back checking for injury. You lean more into his chest even though you don't really need the support, it's just nice to be in his arms. 

"I'm fine," you reassure him. 

"Let's get you out of harms way." He says pulling open the passenger side door. As you start to heave yourself into the tall truck Jake is practically picking you up and easily setting you in the seat. You blink at him in surprise at his show of strength. He remains there, standing in the open door, leaning closer and placing his hand just above your knee, his thumb drawing circles there. Then he asks, "So, where would you like to grab some dinner, my dear?" 

"I've heard of this really great restaurant I've been dying to go to."

"Yeah? Let's make it happen then." 

"Mhmm," you hum in confirmation. "It's called Hangman's House." 

Jake's thumb immediately stops moving and the smile on his face seems to shift. The genuine glint there slipping away, to something hard for you to really identify, practiced or guarded. Whatever the change was you don't find yourself liking it and immediately wonder where you misstepped. 

"So, Hangman's House, that's a pretty exclusive place. They don't usually do unplanned reservations," Jake says after what's nearly an awkward silence. 

"That's too bad. I heard that they have great service." You say a little dejected but glad he told you no in a casual manner that you can play off. 

"You're in luck though, my dear, because I know the owner. I think he would be willing to make an exception for us sometime, but they are better known for their breakfast menu." Jake responds upbeat again. 

"I like breakfast." You mutter in what you think is a flirty way. However, it's obvious that you've missed the mark when Jake's hand drops off your leg completely now. 

"Listen, if this is just a one-night thing, just some making out and fun stuff, where you are going to leave in the morning and pretend it never happened next time we see each other," he says seriously. Pausing, he runs a hand through his hair taking a measured breath, and you watch as the muscle in his jaw flexes. "That's fine, but I need to know it now." 

As you study his face intently it occurs to you that maybe even men like Jake Seresin have insecurities. Maybe he was used to interacting with people where more often than not they only saw him as a handsome face with a nice body. People who were ready to leave the next morning. The realization that a one night stand isn’t the series of events he is interested in with regards to you twists a pit of uncertainty in your stomach. You feel a little uneasy not sure exactly where you stand or what he wants with you. 

Reaching to catch Jake's lost hand and tangling your fingers, you start playing with the big class ring he is wearing. He allows the movement and relaxes his hand further, giving you additional leeway. The distraction of Jake's fingers gives you the courage to say, "I guess maybe I misunderstood that this was going to just be a nice fun night with you. Is that not what you were looking for?" 

"I do want that," Jake says adamantly. " However, I don't just want that." 

"What do you mean?" 

"I want to bring you flowers, dance with you, write you love letters. I want to explore every inch of your body and heart until I know what makes you tick. I want you to forget that any other man besides me even exists." Jake presses himself close to you again, and he turns his hand to thread your fingers tightly together. "Now I'm good, and I mean really good my dear, but those aren't goals I can make happen in one evening. So I want to start with tonight, taking you out and giving you a good time. And then I want to do the same thing tomorrow or whenever you have free time. I want to do that for as long as you will let me." 

"Oh wow," you breathe, taken aback by his declaration. "That's kind of a lot." 

"I know, but I don't want my intentions to be unclear. I wasn't lying when I said I've had my eye on you for a while. I'm happy to go at whatever pace you need; I'll do whatever you want. However, if this was all just getting back at your ex and proving a point. If you can't see yourself wanting anything more with me past tonight again, I need to know." Now, Jake takes his turn playing with your fingers as he breaks eye contact to stare at where you're intertwined. "I'll happily let you break my heart, but I don't want to be blindsided by it. 

Surging forward, you pull Jake in to kiss you again. It's an awkward angle, and the way the truck makes you taller than him feels odd. However, none of that matters when his lips are so pliable against yours. 

"I don't want to break your heart," you tell him between kisses. "I want to go on dates with you, and I want to go home with you. I want to go to bed with you and do it more than once if we find out we are compatible." 

"Are you doubting our compatibility?" Jake asks, raising an eyebrow. 

"Not really, but you know it's better to make sure with these things. Have to double check, I think." 

"That makes sense," he concedes. 

"Now let's get some food so you can take me home and then to bed. Show me these killer skills you mentioned earlier." 

"We can do a lot tonight, but we can't sleep together," Jake says mournfully.

"Why not?" You ask confused. 

"Everyone knows you don't sleep together until the third date," Jake drawls.

"That's a cliche. Plus, why does it really matter?" 

"Because I've been dreaming about forever with you, and when you want forever with someone, you don't want to skip any steps." Jake answers, dead serious and earnestly. It makes you wish you weren't in such an awkward position in the truck. If you were still outside pressed against it, or in the bar even, it would be so much easier to show him the appreciation and affection burning inside. 

"We've got to be somewhere near the third date by now. We have tonight and that camping trip we went on. Oh, and that one time that everyone went bowling. Plus, there was that bonfire a few months ago!" You say, trying to think of occasions you and Jake had spent a good amount of time together. While considering it, you also realize he has nearly always gravitated to your side during group interactions, and going off tonight, that clearly wasn't as coincidental as you had previously thought. 

"You deserve real dates," Jake responds with conviction, and the look in his eye really isn't something you can or even want to argue with. There isn't anything wrong with someone wanting to act like a gentleman with you; it's actually flattering, especially when it's clear Jake isn't going to play any guessing games with you concerning his feelings. 

"Well, then we are wasting time when we could be on our first date," you say, pressing another peck to his lips and lightly pushing him away from you. 

"One last kiss," Jake whispers as he lurches close again for another peck. Then, he gently closes your door and jogs over to the driver's seat, asking where you want to get a bite to eat. 

The two of you end up at a fancy Italian restaurant where you share an appetizer, bottle of wine, and dessert. During dessert, Jake insists you pose for a picture. Despite your initial resistance, he convinces you, and then, nearly as soon as he takes it, your phone lights up with a notification telling you that you’ve tagged you in his story. He tells you before you even ask that he hopes your friends looked him up on Instagram but requests that you repost it on your own just in case they didn't. He claimed it's so they know he's not kidnapped you, but you suspect that it's more likely he wants to prove a point. And it's something you don't mind one bit, especially when he easily lets you post a picture of him on your own story. 

After the restaurant, Jake drives you both out of town a bit to where the sky is much clearer and the stars are visible. The evening isn't warm enough to cuddle in the truck bed like he wanted, so instead, you end up in the backseat with the moon roof completely rolled back. You manage to pretend to be looking at the stars for about three whole minutes before crawlingl into Jake's lap to kiss him. 

Before the making out can get too heated, Jake grips your chin, urging your face upwards to look through the moonroof. Gruffly, he mutters into your ear, telling you to behave. Words that only make you squirm in your newfound place sitting on his lap. He lets you stay there, though, his hands steady on your hips, and his lips leisurely brushing yours or your neck whenever inspiration strikes. 

"What were you doing out tonight looking so nice?" You wonder absentmindedly, unbuttoning the top button of Jake's shirt. It's not with an ulterior motive. Really, it's because Jake's shirt is so soft, and the top of it is hiding his dog tags from you, which you have suddenly decided is unacceptable. The new skin exposed to you is just an added benefit. 

"Ah, nothing to worry about darlin'." 

"Common, you can tell me," you say, pressing a kiss to the underside of his jaw. 

"You know, whinnies?" 

It takes you a moment to place the restaurant and remember that it's across the street from the bar where you met up with your friends. "The wine bar?" 

"Yeah," Jake confirms. "Well, I was on a date there." 

"Oh." When Jake doesn't say anything, you decide you have to push the conversation forward. "So, what happened to your date? Were they not nice?"

"No, she was real sweet," Jake says, and you feel your stomach drop as if you aren't in the back of his truck and sitting in his lap right now.

"So why did you end up at Gem's?" 

"I was checking Instagram before she got there, and I saw you post that you were at Gems, right across the street. And no matter how nice she was, I knew it wasn't fair that I was thinking of a different person the whole time. So, we didn't even make it through appetizers before I had to be honest with her about that, and then I swung by Gems, hoping I would bump into you." 

"You were at the bar just to see me?"

"Sure was. So imagine my surprise when you found and approached me first."

"How would it have gone if you had approached me first?" You wonder. 

"For one, I would have offered to buy you a drink before stealing a kiss," Jake says teasingly. 

"You're not going to let that go, are you?" 

"Probably not for a while," he tells you. You groan and hide your face in his neck as if that will save you from some of the embarrassment. Feeling his chuckles in his throat and rumble in his chest is soothing, and you pepper more kisses to his neck and collarbone as if you were tracing the sound.

"You wouldn't have left without a kiss, though?" 

"I wouldn't have left without seeing you, and I would have done everything to try and convince you to give me one," Jake promises. 

"How would you have kissed me for the first time?" 

"Are you asking for another demonstration?" he wonders. As soon as you nod in affirmation, he pulls you close, repositioning you on his lap so you're straddling him. The darkness of the truck makes it so you can't quite see how green his eyes are, despite that they are still somehow bright.  He holds eye contact with you for a long moment. His hand cups your cheek, and like earlier in the night, he pauses, not closing the gap, observing you close. When you try to lean forward and seal your lips, he backs his head away. Then he chastises you while wearing a smirk, "I'm goin' to kiss you, baby. Now, let me do it how I want." 

Anticipation tingles in you as Jake leans close; however, at the last minute, he swerves, pressing a kiss to your cheek, then the other cheek, your forehead, and your nose. Finally, his lips meet yours firmly. Closing your eyes, you sigh into the kiss. The feeling of being intimately connected to Jake again is nearly the same as relief. When your mouth opens, Jake licks into you, searching out your tongue with his own. 

There no longer seems to be any will in Jake to tamper down the heat of your kissing. He allows you each time you push the envelope of the moment being just the soft sweet first date kissing he initially claimed to want. As he sucks on the sweet spot, her discovers on your neck, the way you grind downwards is involuntary and completely by accident. A low moan comes from Jake, and you like the way it sounds. So, the next time you grind down on him, it's completely intentional. 

The dark slacks he is wearing don't do much to conceal his hardened length. After a few more rolls of your hips, Jake's hands tightly grip your waist helping you grind against him. He urges you into a rhythm that has whimpers, moans, and gasps passing from both your mouths between hot kisses. As you try to speed up, frantic lust beating so loud you can hear it in your ear, he doesn't let you. Though you are on top of him, there is no doubt that Jake is in complete control. 

Just from this night, it's not difficult to imagine how he will be in the bedroom. Strong,  consuming, and in control. You can picture how he will confidently lead you exactly where you want to go, and you will get there because just a back of the car's make-out shouldn’t cause someone to be as turned on as you are right now. You unbutton his shirt and let your hands roam over his chest. Dragging your nails along his abs causes a full body shudder and Jake to grip your ass so hard you think you might bruise. It doesn't bother you, though, because how can anything that gets you closer to his cock be a bad thing? 

“Jake,” you say in a sudden moment of clarity. He hums his acknowledgment but keeps kissing at your neck and squeezing at your ass. A particularly hard thrust upwards from him nearly has your brain going fuzzy as you desperately try to hold yourself together.  “Jake,” you repeat more forcefully, “we need to stop.” 

“What’s wrong?” He asks concerned, detaching his lips from your skin and losing his hold so he is barely touching you. 

“If we keep at this I'm going to beg you to fuck me right here right now,” you answer. He makes a strangled groan. With his swollen lips, lust filled eyes, and hard dick you're sure he wouldn't actually mind. “Which would be amazing but you told me about a three date rule and I agreed.” 

“I did say three dates,” he responds and looks like he hates himself for it. 

“But if it doesn't actually matter I would like to suck your cock at least once before we fuck.” You boldly tell him, twisting his dog tags in your fingers pulling them taut against Jake’s neck until the release beads give away. The chain falls into your grasp, and you use the warm metal to distract yourself. 

“Fuck me,” he breathes throwing an arm over his eyes and leaning back. “You're perfect, you know that?” 

“I'm not.” 

“You are. So perfect, so hot.” He kisses you like he's about to ignore what you just said. Hot and a little sloppy with tongue and a bit at your lower lip. When he pulls away he rests his forehead against yours saying, “We are going to stop now  because I don't want there to ever be a doubt in your mind that I'll keep the promises I make to you.”

Your stomach flips with affection, and you sag, leaning heavily into Jake, just hugging him tightly, waiting for the lust that's sparked to cool. The two of you even manage to get some actual stargazing in where hands roam but in more so in an exploratory way than sexual. 

Holding hands driving back into the city you can’t stop staring at Jake’s profile, or admiring his fingers or tracing the veins of his forearms. You are focusing on trying to convince yourself that this isn’t a dream, you're definitely going to wake up with hickies in the morning, and another date with Jake Seresin scheduled tomorrow. It’s something that if you had been told at the start of your evening, you would have laughed at the absurdity of the idea. 

"I know it's really soon, but do you think that if you asked me again in a few weeks if I'm still single, we'll be able to change my answer?" Jake asks you after a bit breaking the comfortable silence you two had been in. 

"I think that's possible. What do you think about that?" You wonder. 

"I would change my answer tonight if you wanted me to."

"Jake..."

"Listen, I really like you, and I don't see that changing anytime soon. So as soon as you give me the okay, I will bring you flowers with a promise ring and ask if you want to go steady with me." Jake's thumb rubs along your pulse affectionately, "I'll change my Facebook relationship status. I'll get a nice little charm with your name on it for my dog tags. I'll take you to meet my friends and brag about how amazing you are." Jake leans over at a red light to press a soft kiss to your lips. "The whole shebang." 

"That sounds nice. Does that deal have a special name, too?" 

"Yeah, we can call it the Jake special. It is a whole package, long-term, all-inclusive deal." 

"Extended warranty?" You check jokingly.

"It actually has a no-return, no-refund policy," Jake answers.

"That's a pretty big commitment," you whisper back, even though the idea of keeping Jake all to yourself sounds nothing but appealing. 

"It's not something that expires. So how about tonight, we just worry about getting you home where you're going to let me walk you to your front door and give you a kiss goodnight."

"Just one kiss?" You ask in a pretend pout. 

"Let's shoot for two, but don't be surprised if it's three, maybe even four." 

"I want five," you declare stubbornly.

"Then I'll give you six," he easily offers. 

You try to hide your smile but don't quite manage it. It's a permanent fixture the whole drive home and during all seven of the goodnight kisses you get. They aren't the best kisses in the world because Jake is smiling through them, too. It's okay, though, because you both know there's going to be more in the future, a lot more. 

#jake seresin x reader #hangman x reader #jake seresin x you #Hangman x you #hangman fic

[vampireimiko]

omg! could you make a miguel fic were like him and reader are like mom and dad to hobie pav miles and gwen. miguel being the like strict dad n reader being the mom that defends her kids with her life n yells at him when he’s being to mean😭

protective mom mode: activate!

warnings, none !! just the reader being protective over her kids 🦭

note, AGHHH i actually love this request sm but it's been sitting in my inbox for a while so i wanted to get it out, HOWEVER. i might add on more to this scenario and make it sillier :3

If there was one thing everybody around Spider-Society knew, it's that Miguel was super strict and almost always being serious. He was known for being harder on younger spider people. While you were the polar opposite, you were nice and understanding, and loved to joke around from time to time. You were known for being someone younger spider people could come too.

So with that being said, the younger spider people, as in Miles, Pav, Hobie, and Gwen could always come to you for safety whenever Miguel was about to scold them. For example, just yesterday Miguel was about to get on all four of them for almost jeopardizing a mission.

"Miguel we understand what you're saying but-" Gwen started only get cutoff by Miguel who has his hands on his hips and a frustrated look on his face.

"No! You clearly don't understand! You 4 show me time after time again that you can't be trusted going on a mission together because all you do is-!" Miguel is then interrupted by YOU this time. Except this time, he goes quiet by himself. Your presence was enough to shut him up whenever he got to talking crazy. Cause if there was one thing about you, you did not play about those kids.

"Miguel, leave them babies alone! They ain't did nothing wrong!" You intervened, not letting him get in another word of scolding in. Miles and Hobie couldn't help but stifile a laugh at your intrusion which caused Gwen and Pav to bump shoulders with the two while also trying to stop themselves from laughing.

Miguel's eyes narrowed at your interruption, a mix of frustration and resignation evident in his expression. He knew better than to argue with you when you adopted that protective stance towards the 4 younger spider kids.

You stepped forward, placing a hand on Miguel's arm in a gesture of both reassurance and defiance. "Look, I get it, Miguel. You want to keep them safe, and that's admirable. But they're still learning, and they need room to make mistakes and grow. We were all in their shoes once."

Miguel let out a sigh, his initial frustration giving way to a more measured contemplation. He glanced at the group of 4 once more before finally nodding, acknowledging the truth in your words.

"You're right," he admitted, his tone softer now. "They do need both sides of the coin. I'll work on finding a better balance."

A collective sigh of relief escaped from the younger spider people as they realized they had been spared from a severe scolding. They exchanged grateful glances and offered you appreciative smiles.

"I know I'm right, now watch your mouth when you speaking my kids like that." You playfully said rolling your eyes. You then turned towards the group of four, "How about we go get some ice cream? My treat!"

𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞; FINALLY GOT ALL FIVE OF MY REQUESTS DONE 🫶🏾 opening requests up tonight methinks

𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐭 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧

#spirit's works 🤍 #miguel o'hara x fem!reader #miguel o'hara x reader #x black reader #black!reader #black reader #atsv x reader #atsv x black reader #miguel o'hara x black reader #spiderverse x reader

[kaeyx]

Idk if this is yan dazai or yan chuuya but after kidnapping you, intentionally leaving the house hot and supplying small clothes. In summer he wont need to crank the heat, letting the scalding temperatures and humidity work. Bonus for progressively more useless bras and underwear, in defiance of wearing the lingerie he picked out for you, you go commando. While he wants to see you dressed up, seeing your bare sex outlined in your shorts is a fair trade. Even better if your pussy is on cleaning mode and he can see the wet spot when he opens your legs for a "surprise inspection" (for injuries, of course<3) its torture on his cock but its worth it to see you squirm and act shy instead of spiteful

HAND OVER MOUTH BLUSHING SQUEALING SQUIRMING KICKING MY FEET OH MY GODDDDD

No bc. They would. Idk if Dazai would get you as much lingerie, leaving you with only his wardrobe to wear, but Chuuya???? He's already buying you gifts like books, snacks he knows you like, jewelry etc. So he'd absolutely sneak in something pretty alongside that. Panties, garters, something with lace that leaves you completely exposed, maybe even something full of hooks and straps that you can't possibly put on without his help, hoping you'll cave and wear it. All the while sneaking away your longer clothes, leaving you in what's basically either workout clothes or pyjamas. Shorts so small your ass falls out of them, shirts so big they fall off your shoulders, tank tops that hug your waist and leave your neck and shoulders defenseless.

Both of them would absolutely adore seeing you in their clothes specifically, spraying everything with their deodorant or perfume so you smell like them whatever you're doing. Seeing you in their clothes makes them so damn horny, it's all they can do to keep their hands mostly to themselves.

And if you start going commando oh my godddd! Your shorts riding up your legs when you sit down, leaving the entirety of your thighs on display. Getting little peaks of your pussy lips pressing against the thin fabric of yoga leggings and they have to excuse themselves in case they rip the fabric at the crotch and fuck you into oblivion right over the kitchen counter, the sofa, the table. A sliver of stomach on display when your too short shirt rides up and they're already imagining themselves on their knees, hugging your legs so you can't escape and kissing every inch of warm skin they can get their mouth on. Nipples poking through your shirt, the material so transparent it's barely there. Or if you have tits seeing them spill out of the side of a tank top when you lie down, or better yet seeing you adjust them so you don't flash them. If they pretend hard enough it almost looks like you're fondling them.

AND SURPRISE INSPECTIONS AAAAA!! Even better if they've been teasing you all day, ghosting hands over your shoulders or back, lingering when your hands touch, whispering in your ear. Dazai holding you down just with his body weight and rubbing a thumb slowly up and down the hard bump of your clit through your leggings, laughing when you try and fail go push him off, seeing how you shiver. Chuuya immobilising you with his ability, forcing your knees apart so he can settle between them, hooking a thumb into the crotch of your shorts and pulling it to the side to get a good look at you, teasing you for being so wet when he hasn't even touched you. What's wrong, they thought you hated them? You're not supposed to be this excited just from a few little touches, not unless you're hiding something from them...

Bonus points if the reader hasn't gotten off in ages because obviously, they've been kidnapped, they didn't think about doing something like that. So when someone finally touches them, even if it's the guy that took them in the first place, their body reacts so much strongly than it would have pre-kidnapping.

#chuuya.bsd #dazai.bsd #chuuya x reader #dazai x reader #asks.answered #chuuya smut #chuuya x y/n #dazai x y/n #dazai smut

[yanderes-galore]

Ooh I'd like to request a pet-like/platonic overprotective Absol from Pokémon, headcanons or a short where darling is trying to reassure them that there isn't going to be a disaster if Absol just *lets darling leave their home* (or somewhere else Absol has brought them to that Absol deems "safe", or maybe Absol makes them move around a lot and darling just wants to go home and live their life? Maybe Absol is like a rescue Pokémon and something happened to its previous trainer, darling adopted them not knowing what they were getting into maybe)? Absol is the disaster watch Pokémon or some such so having one that dedicated to protect darling would make sense imo

Sure! I'll try my hand at a protective Absol short :)

Disaster

Overprotective! Absol Short

Pairing: Platonic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Overprotective behavior, Paranoia, Isolation, Imprisonment (technically), Death, Implied violence, Clingy behavior, Blood, Forced companionship.

You originally met Absol at a Daycare center. According to the woman behind the desk, Absol was a rescue due to an accident happening to their original trainer. Supposedly their original trainer died... leaving the rescued Absol to try and recover in the Daycare.

When you were set to get to know the Absol, they seemed normal at first. It felt like the right thing to give the Absol another life. After all... rescuing a Pokemon can't be too bad.

You're proven wrong within at least a week.

Attachment issues become known in your Absol quickly. Thoughts of losing their previous trainer drives the poor Pokemon into a fit of frenzy. Originally your comforting and training made your Absol calm down.

Although, as the days continue on, your Absol only seems to get worse in their anxiety. Soon you can't quell your beloved Pokemon's worries. Even when by your side, strolling outside in parks, they show hesitance and irritation towards other trainers and Pokemon.

Something is wrong and you're struggling to find a fix.

Before things hit their peak, you come up with ways to ease your rescue. You take them to therapy sessions, you give them lots of treats and affection, you do your best to calm them when others are around. You think there's progress... that you can fix your Pokemon.

Until you tried to leave the house this morning.

Your Absol, white fur frazzled, lets out a cry of defiance as they stand in front of your door. You try to get past them, the Pokemon refusing vehemently. You notice their Pokeball broken on the ground when you wake up, that and a dark substance coating their claws.

Is that really... blood?

What in the name of Arceus happened?

You keep your distance, the Absol's eyes staring you down with disturbing determination. You get on your knees in an attempt to dissuade the Pokemon. They merely sit in front of your door.

"Absol..." You whisper, trying to be comforting despite your fear. "Why are you so upset? There's nothing wrong... nothing will go wrong...! You're not going to lose me."

The Pokemon glares for a moment, grimacing at the thought before turning their head away. They weren't planning on letting you just leave it seems. You sigh, unable to recall the Pokemon.

"Why do your claws have blood on them?" You ask, not really expecting the Pokemon to answer. Your Absol merely stares at you as if they're innocent, tilting their head. You fear the idea of them being hurt... but you dread the idea of someone else being hurt by them more.

"I can't stay in my house forever." You whisper, your Absol looking unamused as they make a small cry again. "Absol, you have to let me out at some point...!"

Your Absol doesn't budge, forcing you to relent as you currently have no control over the Absol.

Picking a rescue really was a mistake.

"Absol, dear..." You whisper towards the Pokemon, pulling a treat from your pocket. Their red eyes widen for a moment before narrowing again. "If I stay in the house today... will you calm down?"

You Absol stares, seeming to consider your decision for a moment. Their nose twitches but they maintain your ground. You begin to worry... but try to sweeten the deal a bit to regain your freedom.

Even if it requires a bit of lying.

"I'll stay home an entire week, okay?" You offer again, your Absol perking up again at your words. "But we need to get you a new Pokeball soon."

Your Absol seems to hesitate for just a moment. Eventually, however, they relent and back you into your bedroom. They don't let you leave behind them as they force you onto your bed. It's then they jump on top of the sheets, laying in your lap as they take the treat from your hand.

You sigh... happy to have disarmed the situation for now.

Although you begin to worry about the wellbeing of not only your Pokemon, but you along with those around you.

Perhaps they were in that Daycare for a good reason after all.

#yandere pokemon #overprotective pokemon #overprotective absol

[pacifymebby]

How would the blinders react to waking up to reader sleeping by their hospital bed after they get fucked up and passed out for a few days and she's worried sick but just happy that he's alive but he's worried bc she has eye bags, slight messy hair, and just looks like a mess cause she thought he'd died and he tells her that yes he was hurt but he's going to be ok and that he'll have things under control in no time

Tommy

🌿 Tommy has always done his best to keep you away from the Peaky Blinders and the violence that tends to go down whenever they have business, so you didn't witness the attack

🌿 It was however, you who realised he'd been gone too long, you who realised that something was very very wrong, and you who'd had to be held back by John when Arthur and Isaiah had gone after Tommy

🌿 Knowing that Tommy wouldn't want you to see him all fucked up, John tries to convince you not to go to the hospital but you're far too scared for Tommy, you have to see him so you'd argue fiercely with John until he agreed to take you there. "I'm not a child John Shelby, a few broken ribs won't scare me! And I won't be scared to break yours if you keep refusing me either so its your fucking choice!"

🌿 You both know you'd never hurt him but John can see the passion in your eyes so he gives in, at the hospital Arthur groans at the sight of you, "what the fuck have you done John Tom'll kill you..."

🌿 John just smirks, "argue with her if you like Arthur but I ain't responsible for what happens..."

🌿 You aren't listening to them however, you focus is entirely on Tommy. He's lying there, pale as moonlight, all the blood drained from him, he's bandaged all around his chest, Arthur tells you he took a bullet to the shoulder and one to the ribs. He doesn't tell you but he knows that means he's lucky to be alive.

🌿 You'd sit there quietly, holding Tommy's hand glaring down at him determined not to cry until everyone else has left. The others would try to convince you to leave with them, to get rest, "come on sweetheart this aint what Tom would want..." "Talk about him in the past tense again and I'll cut you Arthur Shelby..." you'd say through gritted teeth, not even looking back at him.

🌿 So eventually they would give up trying to get you to come home, and the Peaky boys would end up having to take turns sitting guard outside the door, because they know if they leave you alone and something happens Tom will kill them when he wakes up.

🌿 When you're finally alone you do cry, you beg him not to die and you kiss his cut up face. He's cold to touch and that scares you more.

🌿 After several days of no sleep, refusing food and being frozen to your seat with fear that if you leave, he will die, he finally wakes up... and he wakes up so naturally, so casually that for a moment its as if he's only waking up from a nap.

🌿 "Time is it love?" he'd ask, only half aware of where he is until he looks at you properly and sees the state you're in. "What the hell happened to you sweetheart? Are you sick?"

🌿 He's raise his hand to your cheek and then feel the pain in his shoulder and understand, his memory would come back to him and he'd realise what it is thats happened to you, why you look so unwell... so withered and sickly.

🌿 "Angel go home, go home now, have Frances make up a bath for you, have her bring you some proper food and then get some sleep... I'll be home by the time you wake..." "Don't be stupid Tommy I'm not leaving... your brothers already told me a hundred times over, go home, Tommy wouldn't want this... but I don't care alright, I want this... I'm not leaving your side until you're checked out..."

🌿 Tommy would be stunned by your defiance, blinking a little surprised, he'd smirk and sigh and know that there's nothing he can do, you're obviously scared.

🌿 Thats when you'd feel the relief hit you, latent fear and relief all at once makes for tears, and when they start to come Tommy sees them before you feel them.

🌿 He beckons you down to him so that he can dab the tears away, cups your cheek in his hand as you start to tremble and speak. "Tommy I was so fucking scared, I thought you were... I thought if I left for even just a second you'd die whilst I was away.... you'd be alone and I... Id never forgive myself if you..."

🌿 He'd cut you off hushing you, his thumb across your lips so that he could halt your talking. "Shhh angel, I'm alright aren't I eh, look at me, I'm still here, I'm not going to die... I'm alright... now, I want you to listen to me and do as I say... you're not well, you're wasting away and you look sick, you need to go home and let Frances take care of you... I don't want to see you end up in here with me alright?"

🌿 He'd let you stay with him just a little longer, but he'd keep telling you to go, and when Arthur and John arrive to visit, he'd tell them to take you with them, to make sure you stay at home.

🌿 "In a few days I'll be home with you alright angel, nothings going to happen to me between now and then and when I get home I'll fix everything.. it's all under control alright?"

Alfie

🐻 In all the time you and Alfie have been together, he's never been hurt so badly as to end up in hospital. This time is different however... and you're terrified.

🐻 you know he wouldn't want his little zieskiet to be worried about him, he wouldn't want you wasting your youth sitting by his bedside in a dingy hospital that smells of dead and dying men... but you don't care. You have to be there when he wakes up, if you leave he might never wake up.

🐻 you know he was shot, you know he's severely injured and that his recovery could take a very long time, but you don't care how long it takes, you're going to sit with him the whole time.

🐻 Ollie and Ishmael probably try to talk you into going home for a little bit but when you refuse and threaten them they give up. They bring you food and drink and changes of clothes and they try to look after you as best they can, they know if they don't Alfie will have their balls.

🐻 When Alfie wakes up he does remember what happened, and when he sees you, all tears and little relieved sobs, your head bowed over him as if in prayer, he realises that you've been with him the whole time.

🐻 No matter the pain he himself is in he'd try to put his arm around you and pull you down close to him to hug you, he'd have your head pressed into the crook of his neck so that he could kiss your hair and stroke his fingers through your locks.

🐻 "Shh poppet, I know right, place is miserable right makes me wanna weep an all... these medical professionals, they've no eye for interior decor... no taste..." He'd try to make jokes to sooth you and eventually he'd get a smile out of you as you tried to dry your eyes.

🐻 "Thought you was dead Alf," when you say that he'd chuckle and sigh, "nah not me zieskiet, many have tried but no, not me... not yet..."

🐻 He'd want to take a good look at you, you haven't brushed your hair for several days and when Ollie comes to check on you Alfie would genuinely criticise him for having not made sure you brushed you hair. He'd demand to be brought a hairbrush and then, despite his injuries and your protests he would sit up and brush it for you.

🐻 "Better let this be a lesson hadn't I..." he'd say and at first you would think he meant a lesson to you... "better make sure I stay out of this hospital right, cause clearly the only person capable of looking after you poppet, is me..."

🐻 he wouldn't send you home because a) he knows you won't leave and b) he's worried about you and wants to keep an eye on you.

🐻 instead he'd have you brought a good proper meal and a stiff drink, one that you both can share, then he'd have you lie down in the bed with him and he'd make you sleep.

🐻 "don't you worry about me anymore zieskiet, don't you worry about me at all alright, your old mans just fine... a bit sore maybe but fine... no ones gonna hurt me again yeah, and you need your rest now so sleep... it was very good and sweet of you to want to take care of me but I care more about you than I do me yeah... so be good and go to sleep alright... thats how you can help me get better..."

Arthur

🍂 You didn't see what actually happened to Arthur, but you've see him get into fights before and so you know exactly how this happened... Your poor man went too far, lost himself somewhere in the fight...

🍂 You think Arthur looks rough? Well you should see the other guy. When arthur got attacked he was only on the floor for a moment or two, what should have knocked him out cold just kick started the adrenaline rush. He might have been shot, burnt abd wounded terribly by the other man, but the other mans in his grave now, head caved in, face unrecognisable

🍂 And knowing all this, knowing that when Arthur comes round he won't remember a thing at first, but then it will hit him and he'll be devestated and ashamed... Knowing that, is what makes you so determined to stay by his side and not leave him. You want to be there for him when he wakes up, to reassure him he's not a monster, to reassure him he's alright, that he's loved and still, despite it all, a good man.

🍂 Ada visits her big brother a lot, shes always trying to convince you to go home, just for a night, or even just a few hours in the morning to get some proper rest. She admires your devotion to Arthur though and she is very glad her brothers finally found someone who will show him some care

🍂 Still, she also knows that Arthur would be sick to his stomach if he thought for a second you were neglecting yourself for him. She wants you to go and look after yourself because your lack of sleep and proper food is beginning to show on you, she knows Arthur will be upset if he sees you like this...

🍂 And he is, when he wakes up he groans, asks for a cigarette and a drink, and then realises that its you sitting beside him not a nurse.

🍂 "Oh... Sorry my sweetheart, i thought you were me nurse..." he'd reach for your hand and kiss it, and then he'd almost do a double take... "Wait... Wait... Now don't you tell me youve been sitting here fuckin days waiting for me to..." he doesn't even have to finish his sentence, youve nodded, taken his hand and kissed it back. He looks at you and then looks away, trying to hide the tears in his eyes.

🍂 "Nah, now darlin you shouldnt have done that..." he starts but he's actually choked up and getting properly upset...

🍂 The reason being, a reason he won't ever admit to anyone, not even you, that hes never known care like this. Never had someone care about him so much, someone be so gentle and thoughtful just for him... But here you are, youve sat by his bedside for days on end, and why? Because you love him enough to do so.

🍂 "I wanted to be here when you woke up Arth, wanted to make sure my arthur was gonna be alright..."

🍂 He'd cry, and then hed get annoyed at himself for crying in front of you, and youd rub his back and remind him cryings fine... But youd think he was crying because of what hed done

🍂 "Its alright arthur, you were defending your family, someone threatens the family then you show no mercy, thats just what we do aint it... Youre not a bad man Arthur..." youd say kissing him again, "youre not..."

🍂 Then hed take a look at you and realise the state of you and he'd get emotional all over again, worrying about you and fretting over you. "How many days has it been since you slept in a proper bed? Have they been feeding you... Sweetheart you shouldn't have waited here for me you shouldn't have... Dont deserve this... You should be at home right now..."

🍂 "No Arthur i wanted to be here, with you..."

🍂 He wont want to let you take care of him when he's allowed to go back home, he will want to look after you, and he'll be staggering around the house struggling to try and cook for you, he'll be trying to make the bed for you and in the end you'll snap and tell him to stop being so stupid

🍂 "youre the one who needs taking care of Arthur, not me! Now sit down for goodness sake, let me take care of you..."

🍂 He'd finally do as you ask, not without a big sigh and an eye roll, not without lots of grumbling, but he would do as you said. Youd help him wash, help him change for bed and then finally youd give into his grumbles too and climb into bed with him

🍂 When you were both tucked up together, thats when you would get a little upset, your strong shell cracking for just a moment as you look down at him, your hand on his bandaged chest.

🍂 "Y'know there were a day or two right, when they told me you might... You might not wake up... They said i should be... Prepared y'know, just in case..." "Nah, fuckin idiots them doctors, all of em, they don't know what they're fucking talking about... I ain't going nowhere love,"

🍂 He'd stroke your hair and give you kisses and he'd want to hold you very close all night, "i ain't going nowhere," he'd reassure you, "and i ain't letting no one touch us ever again alright... Won't be having me missus waiting in a hospital for me ever again yeah... I ain't going fucking nowhere..."

John

🌼 John would wake up a week after being shot to pieces by the italians, everyone had imagined he would die, the doctors included. It was only through yours and Tommys insistence that he would pull through that the hospital hadn't written him off.

🌼 And you haven't left his bedside since they stabilised him... Youd been hard to hold back when they were trying to stabilise him... Tommy had had to drag you away from the medics.

🌼 So when John wakes up, his vision blurry, his head groggy, throat sore, muscles aching... Uncomfortable as hell... Youre the first thing he sees. So he wakes up with a smile despite the pain hes in. He wakes up with a smile which grows when he squeezes your hand and you look back at him, tears in your eyes, hands shaking as the realisation hits.

🌼 "holy mary mother of god John you're alive, youre... Youre..." youd burst into tears, overwhelmed with emotions, trembling as you clutch at his hands. He'd force out a chuckle, being brave for you, trying to be lighthearted and pretend that its nothing, that hes fighting fit.

🌼 He'd try his best to hold you despite his injuries, every movement for him is still painful but he'd smile through it and pretend to be fine because he doesnt want to worry you

🌼 "Shhh flower stop crying yeah, im here, im alive, everythings fine... Everythings alright love," he'd say stroking your hair.

🌼 "I was so scared John i didnt... I didnt leave you this whole time... I couldnt..." youd try to wipe your eyes and be brave, you'd dry your eyes and shake your head, "sorry, im being so silly... Youre..."

🌼 "No love, no youre not, c'mere flower, c'mere you've been so brave haven't you sweet girl," he'd kiss you and then he'd hold your face in his hand taking a proper look at you

🌼 Thats when he'd frown, realising you really havent left his side that whole time. He'd sigh, "oh no flower, you didn't... You didnt really wait all this time..." he'd shake his head and be genuinely quite upset, would probably shout at his brothers "why the hell would you let her do that? Why weren't you looking after her?"

🌼 Arthur and tommy having to admit to being a little bit scared of you...

🌼 John would start making all sorts of demands, telling you to go home and then instructing people on how to take care of you... But youd insist you weren't leaving until he could...

🌼 So hed have to give in (he's a little bit scared of you too) and let you stay... He'd end up telling you to get into bed with him, you'd try to argue but he'd suddenly stop smiling or joking with you and say, "listen love, you need to look after yourself too eh, now you either get into bed with me here and you go to sleep, or you go home..."

🌼 So you lie down with him for a little while and drift to sleep, he likes having you next to him, even if theres not very much space.

🌼 And when you wake up youre worried about him again, but he just chuckles, "promise you flower, im alright... I've spoken to Tommy and everythings under control, so you can go home, I'm gonna be fine yeah? I want you to go home and look after yourself, you can visit me tomorrow sweetheart..."

Bonnie

🍀 You'd been hiding in the vardo when the Billy Boys shot Aberama and beat your Bonnie half to death. You'd been listening, hidden, terrified, hand clasped over your mouth, eyes squeezed shut, saying a silent prayer for your Bonnie

🍀 And your prayer must have been answered because when the Billy Boys left, they left thinking they'd killed him... He was strung up on that cross, slumped forward, head limp, covered in blood. You'd thought he was dead too, when you first saw him. You'd sobbed and keened hardly able to look at him.

🍀 But he was only playing dead, just acting like he would in his fights when he wanted his opponent to believe he was out... Thats what he'd been doing to the billy boys...

🍀 "Y/N... Dove... Don't cry..." he'd used his last ounce of energy to show you he was alive and after that you'd rushed in a flurry of adrenaline to get him down, to get him to a hospital with Aberama... They both needed one...

🍀 Bonnie had passed out on the way there and when the doctors saw the state of him they didn't look too hopeful... But you kept telling him he was going to be alright.

🍀 You wouldn't leave his side, when they were washing his wounds you wanted to help but they wouldn't let you. So you had to sit there, shivering, feeling sick from the adrenaline...

🍀 When Tommy Shelby turned up to give Aberama his condolences you flew at him, all fists and rage and blame, "this is your fucking fault you selfish bloody bastard your fucking fault!" Tommy just stood there and took it and then asked Aberama a few questions.

🍀 He'd offer for you to go and stay with Polly "you'll be able to visit Bonnie every day..." but you'd refuse.

🍀 Instead you sit at your bonnies bedside, praying the rosary for him, youve never believed too strongly but youre desperate. The longer goes by without him stirring, the more desperate you become.

🍀 By the time he finally comes round its been two weeks, you havent slept, youre shaken and restless, youre sickly looking from lack of sunlight, you have that greyness under your skin that makes you look terribly unwell. You've been in and out of tears since it happened, unconsolable. Your eyes are red rimmed and sore.

🍀When bonnie wakes up he sees you crying, mumbling your prayer. He tries to reach out to you and his movement makes you jump, you flinch and turn to him with tears on your cheeks, you look so sad...

🍀 But then you see him, awake, his eyes open looking at you... And you start to shake, but you smile, your dry lips chapped and splitting slightly as your smile forms. The light returns to your eyes but bonnie doesnt smile.

🍀 "oh god bonnie, my Bonnie i thought you were.. I thought..." you can hardly speak and he struggles to sit himself up, his hand squeezing yours gently. "Shh little dove," his voice would be weak and scratchy, hearing him sound so fragile would make everything worse...

🍀He'd force a smile though, "shh dove no need to cry I'm alright eh, everythings alright..." "No its not Bon, its not... I thought..." "no matter what you thought eh dove, I'm alive, I'm talking to you right now... Cmon sweet girl, open those pretty eyes and look at me yeah? Am right here..." he'd bring your hand up to touch his cheek as if to prove his point.

🍀 You would hug him your body bowed over his, your face nuzzled into his neck, he'd hold you back, burying his face in your hair, letting it comfort him.

🍀 "Have you been eating dove, you dont look well... Tell me youve not been shut up in this place with me?" hed be ever so concerned about you, he can tell just by looking at you that you havent been back to the caravans, havent been back outside for so long and it hurts him to see you hurt...

🍀But hes also so happy and relieved to have woken up to see you beside him, because if he hadnt seen you hed have been scared something had happened to you.

🍀 He'd try to share his bed with you, and his hospital food too. He'd be putting on the "everythings fine" act so that youd stop worrying about you.

🍀Hed feel guilty too, hes supposed to be your man, supposed to protect you and keep you safe... And he didn't this time, hes the reason youre worried sick, havent eaten or slept properly in weeks.

🍀 You wouldnt leave his side until he was released from hospital. He'd try all sorts to get you to go home even if just for a night but youd be too stubborn.

🍀 "Dove please, im worried about you sweetheart, you don't look well..." "i look much better than you do bonnie thats for sure... Im not leaving until you do... Besides, what if those men come back eh?" "they won't love, i promise you, they won't come back, everythings going to be ok, i promise..." but hes making promises he can't really keep, hes hiding his own fears for your sake.

🍀When they finally let him out you would dote on him, youd cook him the loveliest of stews, youd help him to eat, you'd sing to him, tell him stories to keep him from being too bored. Youd talk to him about hos boxing, keep telling him about how one day hed be world famous... You want to keep him positive and hopeful.

🍀 At night when you have nightmares about what happened to him he'd hold you and shush you and promise you again that everhthing was going to be fine.

Isaiah

🐀When Isaiah wakes up hes confused, not about where he is - he remembers what has happened - but about why youre there...

🐀Youre one of his close friends but that doesnt explain why youre sitting at his bedside, his hand held in yours, looking like you haven't slept for several days...

🐀"y/n? Whatre you..." before hes even finished his sentence you cut him off, your smile splitting your worried expression, your eyes suddenly bright. "You're awake! Oh my god i was so scared! You took such a beating i thought you'd..." "be really ugly when they took the bandages off? Dont worry darlin i could never be ugly..." he'd be teasing you...

🐀"dont be daft isaiah! I was so worried about you... I haven't left this fucking room all week!" now hed be really confused, he'd be looking at you with his brow raised.

🐀 "Why love? Your house isn't even very far away..."

🐀 Youd be confused then too, why does he seem so annoyed with you? He doesnt seem bothered about what happened to him at all

🐀Youd get annoyed with him then, because he doesnt seem bothered about his health, or about the fact that you were so worried...

🐀"Did you really wait with me all week?" hed be frowning, "i don't understand..." the boy is clearly oblivious to your feelings for him, which hurts. But you can't do anything, only try your best to shrug it off..

🐀"You look unwell love... You shouldnt have waited with me... Why dont you go home for a bit eh?" "no!" youd answer to quickly, your cheeks burning witb a slight blush. Thats what would give you away. And when he worked it out Isaiah would be so smug.

🐀 "ohhhh i see, i understand now.." he'd tease you about it, he'd probably push his teasing too far until you ended up snapping at him, crying and getting upset... When you got upset however he'd soften.

🐀Hed tell you he was sorry and he'd tell you "c'mere a second y/n cmere... Got somet to tell you..." then he'd tell you he was glad you waited with him, thst you were the only person he could have wanted to wake up to.

🐀"now why don't you tell me why you really waited..." he wants to hear you say you love him first, he wants to make you squirm... Its the least fun he deserves after taking such a beating.

🐀 "y'know i love you too sweetheart... Which is why i want you to go home now.. Look after yourself eh, get your beauty sleep..."you wouldnt want to but after plenty of reassurance from him that he was okay, you would eventually do as he wished.

🐀Isaiah wouldn't even be quiet or shy about how pleased he is that you waited in the hospital for him, hed actually be quite proud/smug

Michael

☘️ When Michael wakes to see you sitting in the chair beside his bed he's relieved.. He's glad to know you waited for him to wake up, he's pleased at the devotion you've shown to him.

☘️ "Sweetheart you look tired..." hed say before realising thats actually a little insulting... "as lovely as always but you do look tired..." he'd be concerned that you haven't been comfortable, worried you've not rested properly.

☘️ "Have you been eating love?" he'd sit up in bed and get all serious with you, frowning when you shrug him off. "I've been worried about you Michael, didn't feel like eating..."

☘️ "Right well, im awake now eh y/n, so you don't need to worry about me now... So you can eat..."

☘️He will want to know why his family didn't make you go home, but when he asks Tommy this and pretends to be pissed off about it, hes also secretly very proud that you waited, he wants to show tommy how devoted his girlfriend is to him. He sees it as a social power.

☘️ Michael would tell you to go home and eat and rest, but he wouldnt really want you to, he'd want you to stay with him and fuss over him. He likes how brave you think he is, how you fuss over him and dote on him just because hes in the hospital.

☘️ "Maybe i should get meself shot more often eh?"

☘️ When you get annoyed at him for saying things like that he just chuckles and eventually apologises.

☘️ "it isnt funny michael, ive been so fucking worried about you, a few inches lower and youd be dead for fucks sake!" "Alright alright, im sorry love, come here eh im sorry...i didnt mean to upset you eh, was just a little joke.." him taking your hand and pressing youe palm to his lips, "im sorry,"

☘️"And you dont need to worry anymore y/n, I'll speak to Tommy and we'll make everything right... So i dont want you to worry anymore..."

☘️But you are worried and he can see that. So he decides to try and keep you too busy to worry about anything, using your particularly doting disposition to keep you occupied, asking you to fetch him his favourite pastries or telling you he wants to hear a certain song so that youll spend hours at home searching through boxes to find it and bring it to him.

☘️ When you get back hed tell you to put it on, and then he'd ask you to dance or sing along to it for him. Sometimes he'll invite you into his bed and hum along to it in your ear.

#peaky blinders imagines #bonnie gold x reader #tommy shelby x reader #arthur shelby x reader #john shelby x reader #peaky blinders headcanon #alfie solomons x reader #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders

[green-eyedfirework]

trick or treat!

A deleted scene from 'a fair thought'! I went through many iterations for the second chapter.

___________

Dick paced side to side, restlessness burning through him. Raindrops splattered against the window panes in tune to his footsteps, and lightning flashed intermittently. At the next clap of thunder, Dick controlled his flinch. The storm was right on top of them.

"Dad," Grant drawled from his seat on the cushions. "Make Dick stop pacing. He shouldn't be walking around."

"I'm pregnant, not ill," Dick snapped back before Slade could respond.

"You're making me ill with all that pacing," Grant grumbled.

"Leave Dick alone," Slade said without looking up from his chess game against Joey. "He knows his limits." A subtle rebuke--Slade hadn't hovered during the pregnancy, and gauged Dick's mood better than he did himself sometimes. It was infuriating.

Rose only snickered from the corner where she was sitting and sharpening her sword. Dick winced as his back cramped and paused near the window. It was pitch black outside, light from the lamps drowned out by the ceaseless rain. It was making his senses prickle. This was the kind of night about which his parents used to tell campfire stories. And not the pretty kind.

As though following the script of his thoughts, there was a knock on the door.

"Come in," Slade called out, looking up from the game, and both Grant and Rose straightened when the guard showed in a drenched trembling messenger. "Get near the fire," Slade ordered, and the man smiled gratefully as he clutched the blanket around his shoulders.

"Thank--thank you, Your Majesty," the man shivered, nearly plastered against the fireplace.

"It's pouring out. What message was important enough to ride through this?" Grant questioned.

"I--I apologize for the interruption, Your Highness," the messenger ducked his head. "It's a matter of urgency."

"What happened?" Slade asked, eyes narrowing.

The messenger's gaze flicked to Dick, strangely, before moving to Slade. "Your Majesty. King Bruce has returned to Gotham."

It was like the world cracked around Dick. "I thought King Bruce was dead," Grant said immediately, and all three of the Wilson children were staring at Dick. Dick didn't know what to say. Dick couldn't remember how to breathe.

"Missing, not dead," Slade clarified, not even glancing in Dick's direction. Dick had explained the situation to him, but Dick had long since lost hope of Bruce coming back. After Ra's, after--after everything, after Dick had to give so much up to save what he could, now Bruce came back? "Where is he?"

"In the capital, Your Majesty." The man looked uneasy now. "He--Gotham's council accepted him back. They declared him King again."

The council that Dick had left there. The council that Dick had left to safeguard the interests of his and Slade's heir, the baby that was currently kicking against his stomach like she knew what was happening.

"How did he get all the way to the capital without being noticed?" Slade growled, and the tension in the room skyrocketed. The cramps were getting worse, and Dick felt vaguely dizzy, frozen in place with the weight of judging stares on him.

"I--I don't know, Your Majesty. But he's expelled the Defiance soldiers from the capital. I--what would you like us to do?"

Dick had promised Slade Gotham. Bruce took it back. Dick wasn't under any impression that Bruce would abide by the deal that Dick had worked so painstakingly to broker. Bruce was the rightful king. Anyone could argue that Gotham was never Dick's to bargain with.

Defiance still had soldiers posted all throughout their territory--if Slade wanted to keep Gotham, it would mean war.

Dick couldn't broker another peace. Not when he was on the wrong side.

The shifting surge of dizziness clued him in that he hadn't been breathing, and his too-fast, too-deep breath made it worse. Dick swayed, abruptly unbalanced, and the sharp cry of "Dick!" nearly toppled him completely. Strong hands grabbed him roughly and pulled him forward, Dick stumbled and fell, only to hit the edge of a table. Grant cursed under his breath before more carefully maneuvering Dick into a seat. "I told you to sit down," he said sharply. "What is it? Are you feeling dizzy?"

"Get the doctor," Dick heard Slade's voice over his head, it made his stomach turn over, queasy.

"I'm fine," Dick rasped out, staring at Slade's boots and not daring to look the king in the face. "I just got a little lightheaded. I--there's no need to make a fuss. I'm fine."

Slade made a little snort as if to demonstrate what he thought of that, and Dick hunched his shoulders further. He moved away, though, back to the messenger, lessening the attention focused on Dick.

"Thank you for bringing the message. Go and see Wintergreen about lodging and food--nothing can be done while the storm rages. You did good work."

"Thank you, Your Majesty. By your leave, Your Majesty."

#green answers #trick or treat #my snippets #a fair thought deleted scene #sladick #royalty au #omegaverse #mpreg

[arctrooperechy]

KINDRED - A BAD BATCH STORY

Series Synopsis: The Bad Batch accepts an extraction mission to rescue a member of the Galactic Senate’s daughter.

Series Rating: Mature (though that will likely change as the story progresses)

Prologue

19 BBY - OPEN SPACE

It was so...quiet. Uncharacteristically quiet for a ship full of four men and one child. Everyone was keeping to their own tasks on the ship as Hunter stood in the cockpit behind Tech in his pilot's seat.

Usually, a quiet moment such as this would be one Hunter would have savored. His enhanced senses meant feeling everything a bit more than everyone else.

And that was putting it mildly.

The sergeant learned how to quiet his mind years ago; it had been critical for his sanity and well-being. So no, of course it wasn’t the Kaminoans who taught him. And it wasn’t a member of the cuy’val dar, either.

Hunter had gotten the idea from his squad’s only friend: a gentle clone named 99. Hunter had struggled, hiding in corners when no one was watching and banging his little hands against his temples begging for silence. He thought no one noticed; but 99 did, approaching him quietly.

When trying to explain the problem, all he’d been able to say was, “it’s too loud, it’s too loud.”

99 had consoled him, stating that when things were too loud for him—when there was simply too much noise to think—he should choose a single thing and focus on it.

One thing. Focusing every heightened sense and every bit of his attention on one thing and allowing the sensation to wash over him wholly until it didn’t feel like he was really focusing on anything at all.

It took time to master the skill, through patience and seemingly endless practice. Wrecker had called it “Hunter’s quiet time” once, when they were still small. Tech had rolled his eyes and started to give the definition of “meditation” and Wrecker had covered his eyes with a groan.

Crosshair, the stoic sniper that he was, had joined Hunter for the practice numerous times over the years. It seemed to Hunter that they sought silence for very different reasons. But the pursuit to find that silence was altruistic on both their parts.Tech and Wrecker tried but it was simply in their nature to…well, not be quiet.

But tonight’s quiet was a different story. In the few hours since the squad had left Crosshair alone on Kamino, Hunter's mind had been a prison of memories and guilt. What if the Empire never sends a scout team back to Kamino? What if Crosshair was never found? What if he…

The scenario had to be in the back of everyone else’s head as well. He knew that as the squad's sergeant, it was his duty to speak up and offer guidance, hope, for his teammates.

But he had nothing. He stood in silence, hoping for someone to speak up and distract him from the gnawing insecurity clouding everything.

He stood in silence wondering if they’d made the right choice.

Finally, Wrecker spoke up behind him, ever in keeping with his optimistic and empathetic nature. "'Mega, how about we play some sabaac when we get back to Cid's?"

Omega snapped out of her trance and grinned as she replied, "oh, you're soooo on. Loser buys the Mantell mix for our last mission!"

Wrecker chuckled as he whispered to the girl, "you know Hunter covers that anyway." Omega giggled jovially as she and Wrecker continued their banter. Up front, Echo and Tech began discussing necessary maintenance for the hyperdrive once they were on land again.

Thankful for the chatter, Hunter began selfishly longing for the moment they touched down on Ord Mantell. Maybe the squad would have a chance to relax (for once) and take their minds off of the last several rotations’ events.

As wrong as the notion felt, Hunter thought that perhaps the more distance the squad put between themselves and Crosshair...the better.

-

CARIDA

Merritt Belaena couldn’t wipe the frown off her face. She wouldn’t wipe the frown off her face. One act of defiance, one thing she could control, was this frown. She would wear it until the day she died. If only to prove a point.

The previous evening had been typical. A beautiful gala in a beautiful gown. A lot of conversation she couldn’t remember. A bit too much to drink. An unwelcome wave of emotions hitting her once she retired to her bedchambers. A fit of tossing and turning before sleep set her free.

This morning had been anything but typical.

She had been jolted awake by one of the handmaidens, imploring her to follow. After a moment of back and forth, Merritt relented and was led to the study.

Senator Belaena’s study, that is.

The Senator being her mother; the study being a room no one was typically permitted access while she worked.

The handmaiden ushered Merritt inside and was away with a final thud of the door closing. She looked around the room and saw no servants, no troopers, and no onlookers; only her parents gathered near a corner talking hushedly to each other.

“Mother? Father?”

The pair turned to face their daughter with wild looks in their eyes. Merritt felt her stomach lurch as she realized whatever this was, it was not a good thing.

“Darling,” her father began as he walked over towards her. “We have some news that might seem a bit strange.”

Her mother sighed and walked to meet Merritt before her father had even reached her.

“You must go.”

“Go?” She was dumbfounded.

“Yes. You must leave Carida,” her mother responded sharply. Merritt noted a hint of emotion in her mother’s voice, something she’d only heard a few times in her lifetime.

“I don’t…what?” A small wave of panic began creeping over her, but she pushed it away with every bit of force she could muster.

“You must leave. And it must be tonight.”

Merritt could not for any reason begin to grasp what was happening here. Of all the things she expected to happen…this was not one of them. “Do I have no say in this?”

“You do not,” her father replied. “This is urgent and non-negotiable.”

“We’ve arranged passage for you off-world. You’ll need to be ready in the next few hours. We don’t have much time.”

“Stop.” Merritt took a deep breath before continuing. It was always so nerve-racking to speak to her parents, but it seemed even more daunting now. “What is going on?”

“Something’s happened with the Galactic Se—“ her father began until he realized he was being met with a harsh glare from the Senator.

“It doesn’t matter what’s going on. All you need to know is you’re leaving and your father will pass instructions to you later in the day.”

“Mother, I’m sure I can handle—“

“You. Are. LEAVING. There will be no discussion. That is final.” Her mother’s face had turned wholly red, the veins showing in her forehead and neck.

Merritt had learned a long time ago not to argue with the Senator. The outburst seemed callous at first, but she soon realized that hidden within the vitriol in her mother’s words, there was fear.

That fear did not soften Merritt’s feelings towards her mother at all. It was so characteristic of her to make demands with no discussion. Once, after a particularly difficult situation arose involving the family’s reputation, Merritt asked if she could be of any help. Her mother had not replied; but she’d overheard her later ranting that Merritt was “not capable” of bearing such heavy burdens.

Perhaps she was right.

And yet, here Merritt stood with what felt like the heaviest burden of all—the unknown. Her only ally, it appeared, was the frown on her face. She was on her own, she and that frown, now just as she had always been.

-

ORD MANTELL

Before the Batch could even settle in at Cid's, the Trandoshan was beckoning for Hunter to join her in the back.

The dimly-lit room was anything but welcoming on a good day. But now, when Hunter was desperate for a moment of downtime? It was even worse.

"Heard you almost died," Cid said nonchalantly. Hunter wasn't sure she was feigning the lack of sympathy.

"Been through worse. Nice of you to worry, though," he responded curtly as she took her usual seat.

"Well, I'm not quite ready to lose part of my top source of revenue yet," she shrugged, sifting through the items on her desk. "Besides, I've got a job for you."

Hunter sighed loudly as he started, "I think the squad needs to lay low for a bit."

Cid continued as if she didn't hear him. "Carida, planet that's been getting quite a bit of Imperial attention lately.” She activated a diagram from her holopad at the desk, showing the planet’s location in the Inner Rim. “The planet’s the site of a clone training facility that's been converted into an Imperial officer and trooper academy."

Hunter nodded quietly; he was familiar with Carida and the soldiers they produced. Why it was relevant to him, he hadn’t the slightest idea.

"Someone needs to be transported off-world, ASAP. Willing to pay a fortune," she grinned.

"Cid...the team's been through a lot lately. I'm not sure we're ready to engage in conflict with the Empire again just yet."

"Bandana, this is a quick extraction, easy score for you boys," she scoffed. "Details are on here," she explained as she tossed him a holodisc.

"No," Hunter said as he tossed the disc back towards her desk. "Not happening."

Before Cid could respond, a tiny voice piped up from the office's entrance. "What's not happening?"

Omega stepped in and sat on the arm of Hunter's chair.

“Tiny! Finally, someone with some sense. Dark and broody here’s rejecting a simple rescue mission I had for you all,” Cid said with a devious smirk. Hunter glared at her, knowing she’d used the right words.

“Rescue mission? Someone’s in trouble?” Omega’s eyes lit up; she looked to Hunter excitedly.

Before he could say anything, Cid made matters even worse by adding it was someone on an Imperial-occupied planet.

“Hunter, we have to go!” Omega exclaimed, beginning to tug on his arm.

“Omega,” he started slowly, “I just don’t know that the squad is ready for another mission just yet. There’s been…a lot that’s happened these last few days,” he finished.

She looked at him with a fierceness in her eyes, and he knew that was it. The kid was very persuasive and usually right…usually. “Hunter, we help people. Isn’t that what we do?” she asked firmly.

After a long pause and without looking away from Omega, Hunter spoke to Cid. “Just an extraction? This person is going to be ready for us…in and out, without any intense maneuvering?”

“Yup. And then we both reap a ton of credits. What could go wrong?” Cid smiled back with greed in her eyes.

Hunter sighed with a look back at Omega. He resolved to himself that this would be their last mission for a while, no matter what Cid bribed, or Omega pleaded. It wasn’t just that they needed rest; he was concerned his squad had been making far too much noise lately and needed to lay low for a while.

Perhaps one simple low-risk mission to provide them enough credits to relax for a long while wasn’t such a terrible plan.

“Alright, kid. Go round up the boys. Let’s make this quick.”

-

A/N: thank you for reading! After months of reworking, I am finally ready to begin sharing this TBB story. This is my first fic, so any tips or comments would be so helpful ❣️ I don’t know how to do a tag-list but if that’s something you’re interested in, please let me know!

-CC

#the bad batch #tbb #hunter x female oc #bad batch #sw fanfic #kindred fic #tbb fanfiction #OC Merritt

[sulky-valkyrie]

Val! Can I get "there’s nothing you could have done." for Fenris/Anders?

You know it 💜 Honorable mention to @shardsof-stars because she'd requested a wee bit of Fenders on the run after the boom, and these two ideas ended up all tangled and muddied together and it doesn't quite use the dialogue and it doesn't quite have them on the run, but I'd like to think it fits the spirit (heh, Jsutice pun) of both thoughts

for @dadrunkwriting

Kirkwall was burning, and Meredith had gone mad.  Or maybe Meredith's madness was why Kirkwall was burning.

It wasn't supposed to end like this.  No, that wasn't right.  It hadn't been supposed to keep going after this.  No, that wasn't right either.  He wasn't supposed to keep going.  

Boom, Justice and I are free.

It was supposed to be a symbol, a spark to light the fires of the world, to force Thedas to confront its prejudices, and to remind mages they could fight back.  And fight back they had, but Anders had never expected it like this.  A summary execution should’ve been his fate, or a show trial and a chance for him to make his case for the end of the Circles before being sentenced to death.

He hadn't accounted for Meredith's paranoia.  Well, he hadn't accounted for it enough.  Or her hatred.  Bloody knickerweasels, he'd confessed to her damn face, and she'd still blamed the whole of the Gallows and called for an Annulment.

Granted, he might still die today.  Orsino had nearly turned himself into a fucking abomination in a futile act of defiance and despair.  He shuddered.  If not for Merrill and her own demon, things would've been so much worse.  And it was bad enough already.

Meredith's sword sang with an oily discordant wrongness, jangling at his nerves and setting Justice on edge as she cut down her own people.  Even half an hour ago, the sight of Templars losing their guts and screaming would’ve given him grim satisfaction, but now, it was simply grim.  They fought against her as fiercely as they'd fought with her, and died just as easily.

He threw every spell he could, even healing fucking Cullen when the statues came to life and one batted him across the courtyard, but it still wasn't enough.  Over a dozen people stood against her, but they were starting to tire, and Meredith seemed unstoppable.  At least the rest of the Gallows mages made it out through the tunnels.

A whistle caught his attention, bright and piercing as it cut through the clatter of battle.  A whistle that sounded like -

"Ancestors balls, we can't leave you alone for one minute, can we?"

He glanced down and smiled, even as his heart clenched in fear.  "Siggy, babe, you're in the wrong place."

"Nah, we've been tracking that shit –" she waved a dagger toward Meredith "– for years. Good job making her show it."

"Is that what I did?" Anders asked sarcastically.  "Jolly good for me then."

A volley of fiery boulders rained down from the sky, battering Meredith to the ground. Velanna's work, no doubt.  

The new threat was apparently enough to send Meredith over the edge.  She looked as deranged as a blood mage as she climbed to her feet and shouted, “I will not be defeated!”

As she thrust her sword in the air, the horrible jangling feeling ramped up, like it was trying to crush his skull and burst it open from the inside at the same time, Sigrun winced and gritted her teeth. Interesting.  He'd assumed it had something to do with being a mage, or Justice's sensitivity to lyrium, but Sigrun was neither mage nor possessed.  

Interesting, but a question for a later time.  Even if he’d had the time to think about it, the pressure on his mind made everything blank with pain, as bad as what he remembered of the Joining, and when he started to worry that it might actually kill him, the damn sword exploded.

Shards of red lyrium flew out, but, for once, Templars actually came in handy.  What they didn’t block with their shields they blocked with their bodies, however unintentionally, leaving Hawke and the rest of Anders’ former-comrades unscathed.  At least they’ll be alive to hate me.

"Come on, we need to get you out of here."  Sigrun's hand caught his and she started to pull him away.  

Not how any of this was supposed to happen.  He resisted on reflex, but she was a Warden too, and built like bronto.  A small one, but a bronto nonetheless, full of densely packed muscle and maddening persistence.  

"Mage!"  Suddenly Fenris was there, tearing him from Sigrun's grasp and snarling, "You won't take him!"

His vehemence was a shock.  Fenris had barely spoken two sentences to him since the Chantry had exploded, but here he was, defending him again. Fruitlessly.  Anders had always known death would be the only escape from the Wardens.  "Fenris, there's nothing you can do," he sighed.

"Venhedis!”  He put his arm across Anders’ chest and glared at Sigrun.  “You won’t take him,” he repeated.

Sigrun held up her hands, not quite in surrender, but an obvious gesture of goodwill and grinned.  “Stones, Anders, you’ve been making friends again, haven’t you?”

“Er… in a way?”  He pushed Fenris’ arm down gently.  “What do you want with me?”

Before she could answer the paving stones shattered as a tangled mass of roots forced its way up next to her and Velanna stepped out, face pinched in even more irritation than usual.  “What are you standing around for, let’s go!”

Fenris reached for his sword.  “He goes nowhere he doesn’t wish to.”

“Oh for the Maker’s sake, Fenris, please,” Anders said before turning back to Velanna.  “Where are we going?”

She rolled her eyes.  “Where do you think?  The Chantry will be baying for your blood any moment now!  You know as well as I do that the Deep Roads are the safest place for you.”

He shuddered at the suggestion, but couldn’t find a fault in her logic.  I should’ve planned for this better.  He glanced back at Hawke, still arguing with Varric.  Probably about him.  He inhaled slowly and rubbed at his face.  “Let’s go.”

Sigrun and Velanna nodded, then headed toward the docks.  As Anders moved to follow them, Fenris fell in step behind him.  “You may be a fool, but you're my fool.”  His voice was soft, but challenging.  Daring Anders to argue with him, just like old times, yet nothing like them at all.

Debate wouldn’t solve this.  He was a fool.  Foolish to believe Meredith would blame the right man.

“I’m sorry.”  Once the apology fell from his mouth, the words wouldn’t stop, a rush of everything he’d wanted to say since he’d started planning this.  “I should’ve - I’m not sorry I did it, but I wish it hadn’t come to it, and I’m sorry she made it worse, but there was nothing you could’ve done.  I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, or Hawke - sorry that I used you, that I lied about –”

Fenris pushed him to the wall and cupped his chin.  “Hush, mage.  You think there was nothing I could’ve done?  You asked for explosives: saltpeter and flammable stone.  You asked for help distracting the Grand Cleric.  Nothing I could’ve done?”  He kissed him softly.  “Anders, I did everything, not nothing, and I’m not leaving you for this or anything else, and there’s nothing you can do about that.”

#da drunk writing circle #prompt fills #anders #fenris #fenders #post chantry boom #chantry boom #light angst

[bonefall]

What opinions are you having about Bright Storm?

I keep thinking about what it would look like if Gray Wing had been functionally replaced by Bright Storm for BB, and if there was just no Gray Wing

Bright Storm going to hunt for Jagged Peak alone, not related to him at all, but just because it's the right thing to do

How absolutely alone she'd be after giving birth, Jagged Peak gone because she couldn't save him, cradling Thunder Storm close, leg missing in the same spot as Jagged Peak

And then going back and being rejected AGAIN. Clear Sky trying to frame it as this being her punishment for defying him

"Don't you understand? You're all wrong. The ancestors are telling us that Jagged Peak needed to be cast out alone and yet you followed."

Making her doubt herself, framing it like he'll "forgive her" for leaving him if she just gets rid of the child

"I still love you, you know. Even though you made it hard. I'll still forgive you."

But the split still happening on this; with Tall Shadow rejecting Clear Sky's snake words for what it is. "You've been controlling us all long enough"

Girl characters never get treated like wise old sages either, it would be so neat for Thunder Storm to have his mom as the wise mentor type character who still can't get rid of all her love for her abuser

And how EXTRA hard it would pack a punch for Bright Storm to eventually be the Wise Woman whose words get Bumble exiled, as she's picked up part of Clear Sky's mindset.

And the way she'd look at her son with so much pride... keeping wisdom close even when her judgement lapses, rejecting Clear Sky when he throws out Frost in a way that almost perfectly mirrors her and Jagged Peak, realizing that HE has no innate love for Clear Sky

That it came from HER

After all she'd been through, after being blamed for not listening to Clear Sky well enough, following him out of the mountain because of how much she loved him...

She tried to make her son forgive his father *for her*, to have what she couldn't, even though it only hurt them both

"I used to be scared for you, how much anger you could keep in your little body, I was afraid it would make you alone... but now I see you, Thunder Storm. You're the claws we forget we have, when we hide them away to be polite to those who do us harm. If that scares some people then, well, honey they should be scared."

I'm thinking about how it changes the context of the Star-line. "Kill me and live with the memory."

The fact that it was ALWAYS defiance from Bright Storm and later Thunder Storm that takes more and more power away from him. First the wife he couldn't keep in line, and then the son who had an even stronger will than her.

And how, with that context changed, Clear Sky snapping (as he always does) and rejecting the line feels slightly more resonant.

He WILL happily live with that memory. If she will "make" him carve victory out through her throat, he will. She is a symbol of people he can't control, and in his mind, he's "giving up on her"

Thunderstar rocking one of those heart-shaped "MOM" tattoos lmao

For several reasons I wouldn't do it though so don't worry lmao.

i did the thing lads.

#I just really like girls a normal amount #Bone babble #I like divorce man. I am so very pro divorce #I wanna hire a divorce lawyer to make more divorces #Random songs will visit me like prophetic dreams and I have to hit them with brooms #better bones au #BB!Bright Storm

[exilethegame]

Because I guess I haven't had enough of the tragedy of Trystan's tragic relationship with MC, what hurt worse for their Golden Scorpion side when they were met with a MC's newfound disfavor toward them: their words or their silence?

Ooh, I'm assuming this is in regards to the scene in Chapter 5 after the "ritual."

I could write so much about it. I think, at the end of the day, The Commander lashing out at Trystan hurts more than just choosing to be silent. If MC chooses to be quiet, I think Trystan is left feeling more unsure than they are "upset" or "hurt." They're not sure where they stand with the MC in that moment. It's clearly not anywhere good, but it can't be somewhere horrible either, right? MC being silent leaves Trystan with the hope that maybe they can fix and salvage things with time.

Otherwise, if MC chooses to lash out, what they choose to actually say to Trystan affects them in two very different ways. For example, the first option, "stop moping," doesn't really bother them too much so much as it takes them off-guard.

If MC snips at Trystan to stop moping, they do. MC might not be the Commander anymore, but they'll always be Trystan's Commander-- the person who taught them everything they know and stood in as a parent/sibling figure for them when they were otherwise separated from their own family. So, if their Commander tells them to shut up and be quiet...

They'll shut up and be quiet.

The military hierarchy there is what solidifies that exchange and keeps it from being too hurtful for Trystan despite how cruel The Commander is being to them in that moment. The military in itself is cruel-- they're used to being yelled at. They're able to sort of retreat and fall back onto that mentality as a means of protecting themself from the rather personal nature of what the Commander is actually saying to them.

However, if you chose the second option--

"That's not my title (Commander) anymore, is it?" You growl. "... No." "So then why the hells do you keep calling me that?"

Trystan very visibly has an emotional reaction:

Trystan shrinks beneath your gaze and says nothing, but it's not for lack of trying from the way their mouth opens and closes uselessly. But you see something else-- see something harden in their eyes at your words. They turn to look at you then, defiance in their eyes. Defiance, and bitterness-- the very same you have felt towards your very own Mother. They look you over, lips pressed stubbornly together, and you can see them rethinking everything they've ever thought about you before. "You're dismissed," they state. The words take you aback, and Trystan doesn't so much as spare you a glance before they turn their back to you and head back to enter the building again, leaving you with two guards who stand to the side.

Trystan slips up in calling the Commander "Commander" a lot-- they try to stop themselves, but it's hard settling into the fact the MC is not even remotely the same person they were before their exile, nor are they the same mentor figure Trystan had.

So, MC snipping at them for something as vulnerable as that hurts. The first dialogue choice (MC telling them to stop moping) doesn't feel as personal or vindictive. Yeah, it's not nice, but it's not quite as calculated or precise as calling them out for calling you the wrong title is. Rejecting the title when Trystan says it, to Trystan, feels like MC is rejecting them.

I think it's this option that has them fully realize The Commander doesn't like them anymore. Up until this moment, they thought things were fine-- that MC understood what they had to do. This moment clarifies that MC does not agree with their line of thinking and that things are not fine.

So, Trystan hardens up. They fall back on what they've had to do since the Commander's left, which is relying on their status as Commander, and using that to emphasize the fact MC isn't the one in control anymore. That, as a matter of fact, MC is in no position to be talking to Trystan like that. Their feelings are hurt, so they turn to going on the offense as a means of disguising that.

In both dialogue choices, Trystan uses the uniformity and clear power dynamics of the military as a means of finding comfort. They're a lot like Syfyn in that regard. The rigidness and predictability of it all serves as a shield for their otherwise fickle relationship with the Commander.

If MC isn't willing to forgive or accept Trystan, the military is. If MC rejects Trystan and turns them away, the military will be waiting for them with open arms. If MC refuses to retake the mantel of being MC's mentor, the Council will take their place. And trust me when I say they will have no problems with any of the immoral methods Trystan may be forced to use to get them what they want.

In fact, they'll encourage it.

#answered #trystan

[tideswept]

Trick or treat! (Obikin ;))

From this ask game |

🍬ᴀɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴛʀᴇᴀᴛ ɪs…! 🎃

🕯️Sith Obikin! 🕸 (lightly based off someone to lie in the dark with)

Anakin doesn't mean to take a step backward, to yield ground, but the Sith isn't just strong; he's fast, his red lightsaber whirling and twirling, clashing with Anakin's weapon, sparks flying through the air. His form is somehow familiar to Anakin, throwing him off, because it almost feels like someone he's fought before.

But the only Sith he's ever met is dead, and this is not the same man.

A swipe nearly catches him off-guard. Anakin brings up his saber just in time to prevent himself from rejoining the Force by way of decapitation. He feels the heat of the blade dangerously close to his face, and his arms are not in a good position; the angle is all wrong, and he has no way of parrying the saber away.

He takes another step back; cold panic shoots up his spine when he hits the wall that he could have sworn was further away.

Anakin pants for breath. He's pinned, and they both know it.

Yellow eyes gleam at him. Slants of red and blue light play out over their faces. They're close enough now that Anakin can't inhale a full breath without their chests touching. "What's wrong, darling? You were so mouthy a minute ago."

"Kriff. Off," Anakin enunciates clearly, biting each word out with the defiance of someone who knows they're in a hopeless situation, but won't go down easy. He's alone, because he stupidly begged Qui-Gon to let him take a ship down to the surface of the planet to investigate the abandoned hyperdrive factory for spare parts. Even if somehow Qui-Gon sensed that his padawan was in danger, he couldn't get there in time.

Anakin was on his own.

"Tempting offer," drawls the Sith. A drop of sweat beads down the side of his face.

They've been at it a while, a game of cat and mouse, trading blows between hulking behemoths of machinery, using their surroundings against one another. The Sith no longer looks quite as composed as he did when he dropped in behind Anakin and destroyed his communicator; a lock of tawny-blond hair has fallen loose across his forehead, and Anakin thinks resentfully that it's not fair that he's going to die at the hands of a Sith that looks more like he belongs on a holoscreen soap.

"Could you just kill me? I'm not really interested," Anakin snaps. His arms tremble with the effort to keep blocking.

The Sith tuts. "Ani, Ani; is that any way to treat an old friend?"

Anakin's grip falters. Nobody outside Tattooine other than Qui-Gon has used that name, and Qui-Gon had stopped years ago. How does this bastard know about his childhood nickname?

The moment of weakness costs him. A flick of the wrist, and the Sith wrenches the lightsaber out of Anakin's grasp, sending it skittering across the floor. Anakin's gaze snaps to it, and he shoots a hand out to summon it back to the Force when gloved fingers grab his chin and forcibly turn his head back to look at the Sith.

Anakin's pulse is roaring in his ears, and all he's thinking about is that none of this makes sense. "Who are you? You're sure as hell not my friend."

He gathers saliva in his mouth, intending to spit in the man's face.

He doesn't get a chance before the Sith's mouth is hot and heavy on his, swallowing Anakin's gasp, with his tongue pushing greedily into Anakin's mouth without fear of being bitten. The harsh grip on the hinge of Anakin's jaw and the threat of the lightsaber nearly singeing his braid off should be what stops him from doing so.

Not the overwhelming sensation of being sucked into dark, cool waters after a lifetime of burning under the sun.

#happy Halloween! #obikin #sith obikin #fanfiction #berryfic

[ibrithir-was-here]

Been a while since i've written for this au! But here's a drabble going off of this post for Corinthian Bros.

“Please don’t cry”

The plea sat heavy on the Corinthian's tounges, sliding down his throat and catching, like a clot congealing blood he couldn't dislodge. The memory of the last time he'd begged--that long ago night in Berlin-- rose up and added to the sour taste of despair curdling within him. He wanted to wash it out with the sharp sweet tang of fury and defiance.

But that defiance was precisely what had gotten them both here in the first place.

“I’m sor-sorry,”  The Kid choked out, wiping furiously at the red tracts streaking down his face, the bloody smears making his shaking form look even more undone.

“ Don’t be sorry either” The Corinthian said, sliding through the nothingness they'd been placed in over to where the Kid sat, curling into himself as though that would keep his sobs locked down, unable to escape.

Just like them. 

The Corinthian reached his arms around the Kid's shoulders and pulled him close, tucking the blonde head under his chin, feeling the tremors of his younger counterpart rattleing his smaller frame, and squeezing him tight as if the embrace might help settle them.

(If anyone had told him a year ago he'd be trying to comfort his replacement while they both faced almost certain Unmaking--well that person would have ended up like all the rest of his victims he supposed. Only much faster and with a lot less "messing around" beforehand.) 

“Nothin’ to be sorry for, I was the one who got us into this mess”

But the Kid shook his head at this, pushing away slightly to look up at the Corinthian, eyes still red and shiny with bloody tears barely held at bay. 

"I was the one who messed up, if I had just been better at—”

“It’s not your fault Kid, alright?" He said sharply, regretting the bite in his tone as he saw the Kid flinch. He pulled the young nightmare close again and went on, softer now, but determined to make him understand.

"It’s mine. I should’ve known better than to provoke his high and mightyness by trying to cut and run again, especially after he laid out pretty explicitly what would happen if I did. ”

Not that he'd ever had any idea of actually obeying Dream's instructions to stay out of the Waking World. He'd just hadn't planned on his escape attempt being made so soon, or having it hinge on trying to keep the Kid clear of the results of Dream's displeasure.

Of course his efforts had thrown them both right into the thick of that. 

Maybe he really was poorly made. He'd screwed things up for both of them. Both by getting caught and by…by not teaching the Kid well enough to take his place. 

"I will admit the new Corinthian has not filled his role as I'd wished. Some adjustments may need to be made as such…"

He'd know what that meant, and he wasn't about to let the Kid get unmade, not if he could help it. He'd made a b-line to the Waking as soon as he'd overheard Dream expressing his disappointment. 

( Maybe there was just something wrong with the whole design of him, The Corinthian, that had poisoned the chances of the Kid before he'd even tried.  Maybe they'd both been doomed from the start.) 

“What’s gonna happen now?”

The Kid's whispered question pulled him from his despairing reverie. He hoped she was getting her money's worth at least. 

“ I dunno” He admitted.

Another stifled sob. Another quick squeeze of the shoulders.

“ I’m gonna make sure nothin’ happens to you though, you're gonna be ok" 

It felt like an empty promise, in this empty place between existence and annihilation. But he'd do his best to keep it. He owed the Kid that much. 

"But he was so angry," The Kid choked out, shuddering at the memory of the Lord of Nightmare's fury when he found them trying to flee. Well, when he'd found the Corinthian trying to pull an-- even then-- still reluctant to disobey Kid after him. 

"Once more you seek to undermine me Corinthian?! After against my better judgment, I granted you mercy, a chance to keep your place in existence, and yet you still seek to set yourself against my will?" 

Dream had held both their fates literally in the palm of his hand, and when the Corinthian had tried to stab that hand once again--never mind how well it had or hadn't worked last time--Dream had simply cupped his other great hand over them, like trapping a pair of insects, and they'd found themselves here, in limbo, awaiting their lord's decision. 

"He's angry at me, not you"  The Corinthian said, praying it was true. 

"But you were trying to help me! "  The Kid cried, piercing directly into the heart of the argument with all the skill his function invoked.

 "I've lost you your second chance! I took your place and I wasn't even good at it and I-I've ruined your life--"

The Corinthian seized the Kid's shoulders, hauling him up so that they were staring face to face, eye-teeth to eye-teeth. 

"You're the best thing that ever happened to my life!"  

The Corinthian's voice was a rumbling growl, echoing around the emptiness as he pushed every ounce of conviction he had into that admittance. 

"And no matter what happens next, I don't regret a minute of having you in it, ok?" 

He gave the Kid a small shake, trying to push the understanding of just how much he meant his words into him. "Ok?" 

" E-even when I accidentally stabbed you during practice?"  The Kid rasped half a laugh escaping from him despite his efforts to hold it down.

It was a pale reflection of the Kid's usual deflecting snark, but it was more like him than he'd been in the hours, days, since they'd been sent here, and the Corinthian couldn't help but grin back. 

"That was an accident?" He said, feigning disappointment, "And here I was thinking you'd actually managed to get one up on me" 

The Kid gave him an indignant smack on the arm, the Corinthian faked returning a cuff to the ear, and then the Kid was in his arms again. Not crying anymore, but holding onto him like a lifeline, face pressed into his chest, fingers gripping his jacket till the knuckles went white. The Corinthian held him back just as tightly. 

"No matter what happens kiddo, we'll be together, I promise" 

Then the sky split open.

Light flooded into the darkness, blinding them both with its intensity. When their sight returned, they were kneeling at the bottom of the stairs, in the throne room of the palace, and Dream himself was standing above them.

"Let us begin" 

#my writing #Corinthian Bros AU #it does work out and Dream tells them he wasnt gonna unmake Cori 2 he was just saying he didn't seem to be enjoying the full role #so they end up sharing it and Cori 1 does the gorier dreams #after serving some time doing community service for trying to break parole and taking 2 with him #the sandman #the corinthian #the second corinthian #dream of the endless #sandman netflix

[unchartedcloud]

The Art of Defiance - Chapter 6

Part 2 of a Clexa Star Wars AU

While their hunt for Roan has at last yielded results, nothing can be taken for granted where Dark Jedi are concerned. They walked into a trap the last time they found him; what's waiting for them this time?

"So is there anything I should look out for?" Bellamy asks, drawing both Clarke and Lexa's attention. "Is he gonna. Try to blow up my brain, or something? I've never fought a Jedi before." And Lexa, who is still waging the fight to keep her righteously irritated comment under control, answers flatly, "He isn't a Jedi." "Right, because that answers the question," Clarke intones. Lexa doesn't need to see her expression to hear the sarcasm in her voice. "He's not a Jedi, just has all the same superpowers and some extra evil ancient artifacts besides. A helpful distinction." There is no passion, she reminds herself as she accepts this not unwarranted, if frustratingly phrased, criticism and says, "There is a possibility he has a lightsaber. If he does, beware firing at him; he will be able to deflect blaster bolts, potentially directly back at the hand that fired them." Lexa does not need Force sensitivity to feel the wordless exchange between Clarke and Bellamy. They are familiar enough with each other that they can, it seems, communicate silently with some effectiveness. "Well that does limit our options a bit," Bellamy says, confirming Lexa's suspicion. "Please," Clarke snorts and flicks at the armor covering Bellamy's shoulder for emphasis, "you're a tank. He'd need a cannon to get through this. Just don't get hit in the noggin." "You won't need to engage him directly," Lexa answers, suddenly wishing she and Helena had traded places. "If and when we find him, Helena and I can do the bulk of the fighting. We will need you, Octavia, and Lincoln to provide cover fire, or to target any security measures and personnel he has with him. "He is also trained in the use of the Force," she continues before any other smart comments can be made. "Do not allow him to catch you by surprise. It may be the difference between having your blaster pulled from your hands or keeping your feet." "Don't shoot at him, don't get shot, don't get taken by surprise--" Clarke's words are cut off by a jarring shudder of the lift as it finally comes to a halt. "I'm feeling more useful by the second." Lexa moves in front of the doors. For all that Clarke is being... unhelpful at the moment, she isn't wrong. Lexa knows first hand the disparity between a Force-user with Jedi training and the average hired gun. "Just..." she says, not quite looking over her shoulder at either of them. What advice could she possibly give? Defending against offensive Force techniques and lightsaber forms takes years to learn, and they have thirty seconds, at best. With anxiety solidifying into something like sorrow in her chest, she says, "Stay alive." And when the lift doors open, she steps into a cave so cold her breath fogs before her.

Read on Ao3.

#clexa #clexa fanfic #the 100 #the 100 fanfic #clarke griffin #commander lexa #lexa woods #star wars au #SWAU #my fic

[theladyragnell]

Hello Nell, it's been a while since I sent you a fic request! I have a challenge for you - no worries if you're not interested though. In anticipation of Shadow and Bone season 2, how about Kaz/Inej/Jesper (specifically the show version of them) and "I didn't realise we were dating!" Jesper has talked himself into believing that he is just imagining being romantically involved with Kaz and Inej :)

(In which I don't have the time to rewrite In Defiance of All Geometry but a lot of people give serious thought to inventing powerpoint to explain things to poor Jesper. Set in some nebulous point in canon, probably post-s1 and pre-s2, but I haven't wached the show since it came out so you'll have to forgive some inaccuracies!)

It’s not that Jesper is lonely.

For one thing, he’s an incredibly charming person, thank you very much, and he makes friends (and other acquaintances, and occasionally, when luck isn’t with him, enemies) wherever he goes. For another, he has a crew these days, steady backup in any rough patch.

It’s just that the two people he sees most often, the two people who have his back more than anyone else, the two people he trusts (and who he can never tell he trusts them because they’d flee the city) are stupidly in love, and Jesper is not meant to be a third wheel.

Somehow, though, he still finds himself sitting and waiting it out while Kaz and Inej exchange looks full of all sorts of things that they then have to explain to him out loud because he can’t do their freaky mind-reading trick. And fading tactfully back when they’ve had a rough job and need to stare at each other and say weird intense things to each other.

“I don’t grudge it for a moment, you understand,” he tells Nina, who is very sympathetic as long as he lets her speak in her turn and who is less embarrassed in funds than he habitually is and buys them drinks when men trying to get her attention aren’t doing it. “It’s just awkward to be there, and they do it in front of me a lot.”

Nina frowns at him. “They’re both pretty private people,” she says, in a leading tone.

Jesper does not like leading tones when he doesn’t know where he’s being led. He groans. “I know that! That’s why I try to keep giving them privacy! It’s just that apparently they can’t restrain themselves long enough for me to leave them alone!”

Nina’s continuing frown takes a turn for the embarrassingly pitying. “Those two never do anything by accident. Surely you know that by now.”

“Whatever you’re trying to be delicate about, please stop, I have a reputation for being unable to take a hint.”

“I can certainly see why,” she says, and refuses to say another word on the subject.

*

The other problem is, and Jesper will take this one to the grave if his face doesn’t give him away, the problem is that Kaz and Inej are the two most amazing people he knows. They’re also terrifying, but sad as it is, Jesper seems to have a weakness for terrifying people. Inej and her silence and her very scary knives, Kaz and his very scary brain, they’re going to be able to burn down the world someday, and for some reason, they’re letting Jesper come along for the ride.

Jesper’s got an excellent opinion of his own good looks, intelligence, and skill as a sharpshooter. He’s an asset. He’s just not the sort of person who gets ballads and legends written about him, and the other two are.

So if, sometimes, he stares at them while they’re doing the freaky exchanging-looks thing and it’s not annoyance he’s feeling, he hardly thinks that anybody could blame him.

*

“You keep disappearing after our jobs,” Inej says in the dark.

Jesper yelps. “Must you do that?”

“Do what?” she asks, so dry and absolutely making fun of him. “You used to want to celebrate. Is something wrong?”

“Does Kaz know you’re asking me this?” She gives him a long, judgmental look. Right. Stupid question. She and Kaz plan everything out together, these days. “Okay, fine, obviously. And no, nothing is wrong, does something have to be wrong for me to give you privacy?”

Inej frowns, and Jesper groans and goes to sit down on his bed to start unlacing his boots. To his surprise, Inej sits down next to him a moment later, arm brushing against his. “You’re part of this with us. We don’t need privacy from you.”

First Nina feels sorry for him and now Inej does. And possibly also Kaz, though the thought of being pitied by Kaz is a horrible one. It doesn’t seem to be in his range of emotions, which to Jesper’s knowledge are plotting, anger, and utter devotion to Inej. “You two aren’t exactly babes in the wood, no matter how slow you’re going, and I don’t want to catch sight of anything that would make Kaz put a hit out on me.”

“He would never.”

“You’re right. I think he’d have the good manners to kill an old friend face to face.”

Inej frowns at him in confusion. Jesper waits for her to try to convince him and herself that Kaz would never kill a member of their crew for any reason, or that Kaz, who would probably wear a veil over his head if he’d still get respect that way because he hates anyone to know he’s got anything so human as skin, would be fine with Jesper seeing anything that comes out in the natural course of amorous activities. Instead, she just watches, and after an excruciating interval, says “Hm.”

And then, before he can ask her what that’s supposed to mean, she disappears in that special Wraith way she has, leaving him confused and annoyed and a little bit worried that Kaz might kill him after all.

*

Kaz does not kill him. Or yell at him, or threaten him, or anything else. Kaz pays for a drink and stakes him in a game and sits next to him while he plays it, intimidating the rest of the table so much Jesper actually wins. He gets them an easy job where Jesper gets to shoot a hole through a man’s hat and gives him the grimace-twitch that serves him as a real smile.

After, during their celebrations, Kaz and Inej sit on either side of him instead of all wrapped up in each other, and Inej leans against Jesper and drinks and laughs, and Kaz doesn’t kill him or even particularly look like he wants to.

“Yes, I get it, you value my friendship, it’s very sweet of both of you,” Jesper says later, when Inej is asleep against his shoulder. It’s kind of nice, being trusted like that.

Kaz stares at him coldly for a good thirty seconds. Jesper waits for a blistering insult, or at best a reminder that he ought to get some rest himself. “Hm,” he says instead, and when Jesper tries to ask what that means, shushes him, looking at Inej meaningfully.

*

“I don’t know what we’d do without you to make us smile, Jesper,” Inej says quietly, lounging on his bed, a habit she’s somehow picked up.

“Your terrible luck shames me,” says Kaz, and spends an hour making him learn to count cards.

“You’re a mess, Jesper,” says Nina with no sympathy at all when he brings his bafflement to her again. “I’d tell you what to do, but it’s going to be a lot funnier to watch you figure it out.”

*

Not every job can go well, not even for the best crew in Ketterdam. They set out to divest a merchant of his ill-earned gains, and end up on the run from his private security all across the city. Kaz is somewhere hidden, not being the running type, but Inej and Jesper have been running for long enough that Jesper’s lungs are starting to burn, and while Inej could disappear if she wanted to, for some reason she’s not doing it.

Jesper isn’t good at planning jobs out, all the thousand iterations of a plan that Kaz can come up with and switch between at a second’s notice. One thing he is very good at, though, is improvising. When there’s a convenient alley, he grabs Inej’s hand, pulls her in, and kisses her. It’s a classic distraction technique, and gives him a chance to pluck off his hat, muss up her braid, and make them look like two young lovers who have been at it a while, not a pair of criminals on the run.

Sure enough, the steps of the security slow when they pass them, but they don’t stop, and Jesper kisses Inej for a few seconds more before he backs off. “Do not stab me for that,” he says.

Inej frowns at him. “Stab you? Why would I stab you?”

He frowns right back at her. “Because I kissed you without asking.” He picks up his hat and then freezes. “Wait. Don’t tell Kaz. Kaz really will stab me. You like me at least enough to keep me alive, right?”

“We need to meet up with Kaz,” she says, still looking worried about him, even in the midst of this job knowing something that he doesn’t. “Everything will make a lot more sense then.”

*

It’s dawn before the three of them meet up, after a lot more evasive maneuvers and a little regrouping and a called in favor that got the unfortunate merchant dumped in the harbor for some nearby fishermen to pull out.

By then, Jesper is exhausted enough that his murder might be a blessing in disguise, so he doesn’t protest when Inej drags him into the room with Kaz and says “He still doesn’t know. He kissed me and he still doesn’t know.”

“Don’t you, Jesper?” Kaz inquires. That’s a dangerous tone of voice.

Jesper, pushed past all endurance, throws his hands up. “Of course I don’t! Why would I know anything? Nina won’t tell me, you two insist that you don’t want privacy despite that being a thing nearly universally desired by all lovers and you don’t really seem like the type to want an audience so I assume that includes you … it’s very trying!”

Kaz smiles. It’s one of the dangerous ones. All the ones that don’t look like weird grimaces are dangerous. “You’re right. We don’t want an audience. Or only a very specific audience, and not as much as we want a participant. You kissed the Wraith. If she didn’t want you to, she would be handing me your liver right now.”

Jesper looks between them, even more baffled. “You need a proxy? I thought you were just going slow about the touching thing, but I suppose I’ve done worse things for people I liked less.”

“Intriguing idea, but also not my point,” says Kaz. “I staked your bet. Have you ever known me to make a bad one?”

“You were being nice?”

“I’m not nice,” says Kaz, and kisses him. It’s quick and brutal and Jesper sits limply on the floor when Kaz is finished with him for the very simple reason that he’s too surprised for his legs to hold him.

“Now do you understand?” asks Inej.

Jesper takes a moment to recalculate his entire life like he might recalculate a shot when the wind picks up. He thinks about being included past all reason, about how Inej and Kaz use words and not touch with each other and, it seems, with him, about good bets and bad bets and Inej not stabbing him in that alley. He thinks, and he gives them his most charming grin. “Maybe you should explain it to me some more.”

Inej grins. Kaz grimaces. Very little of the explaining that follows is verbal.

*

“I regret ever wanting this to work out,” Nina says a few days later, but she grins and lets him buy her a drink, and really, Jesper is pretty sure he’s never had fewer problems in his life.

#sweetpollyolliver #answered asks #sometimes i write stories

[anderjak]

i was thinking about making a big dumb long twitter thread, but since that site is dying, i'm posting it here:

all it really takes to be radicalized is learning how much is fakey-fake.

we cite gender as a social construct, which it is; it's entirely made up and shifts with the sands in the hourglass. but it's still pretty important for a lot of reasons.

laws are also a social construct; many of us collectively decided that there should be consequences for thing that hurt others, and we all shook hands and agreed that we'd punish people for doing those things. the fact that laws keep changing, being updated, being redacted, etc, is proof that we are quite literally making it up. most of them are just arbitrary ways of protecting us from ourselves.

money is also a social construct; bartering in and of itself is done under the belief of equivalent exchange, that to give also means to receive. we all did kinda collectively agree that, if we're gonna have a bartering system, it's better to use coins and scraps of paper instead of livestock and daughters to purchase goods and services and clout. (though we still kinda do this, it's just more frowned upon.)

we believe in these social constructs enough that defiance against these things is a pretty radical concept; part of the social contract (which in and of itself is a social construct!) is that we all agree to a certain subset of rules and expectations in order to not rub each other the wrong way or hurt each other, and violation of this upsets a so-called natural order.

what i'm saying is, social constructs are still treated as real and tangible, because many of the social constructs we have are important! they help inform us of our role in society.

however, a lot of social constructs are treated as facts of human nature, which isn't the case. one thing that kept fascinating me was the frequency in which i'd see autistic people play with gender, because, hey, if you're someone who misses social cues and often questions social constructs due to the way your brain works, it's a lot easier to perceive gender as a strictly optional selection of traits you can opt into and out of!

it also leads me to understanding why i know so many trans activists, communists, socialists, and anarchists; once you live a life wherein, as part of your modus of survival, you question a major social construct an entire culture builds itself around, markets toward, and enforces by way of marketing and storytelling and so forth. when you realize something's fakey-fake, it's a lot easier to be enraged by the idea that a lot of people simply agree that the social constructs we are expected to adhere to are inalienable and must be maintained at all costs, regardless of how many of these social constructs, like systemic bigotry, actively harm others in numerous overt and covert ways.

when you get to that point, it's a lot easier to finally start asking the question, "why DON'T we just abandon some of these things so we can actually improve our lives, especially if all they do is get in the way of genuine progress"

i think a good starting point of activism really does boil down to sitting with this idea that very few things we deal with and are affected by are in no way set in stone, and can absolutely be changed, and much of the resistance is folks who refuse to treat social constructs as anything but static and permanent.

#bloggerjak #accidentally posted to the wrong blog at first #whoops #forgot how to use tumblr

[ask-the-sexyman-squad]

Double Trouble would be a horrible parent have they realized the full extent of what having children would do to them?

Are they willing to give up their free and somewhat chaotic life to make sure that these kids are actually taken care of?

And don't get me started on alastor

Is he even prepared to take care of the kids?

(Im so so sorry. 😭😭i love them, but everyone loves a good agnsty)

//TW: blood, glitching images, bloody weapon. Carry on! <3//:

"Ohohohohoho...you really wanna start this shit, huh? Well then: bring it, bitch."

This girl is willing to defend her family to death if she had to. She still hasn't cleaned up after that last anon, but why would she when she had to deal with this one?

"I'll sure as hell show you why I'm the Radio Demon's adopted daughter---"

"Sweetheart, don't. You shouldn't be doing this type of stuff...and there is blood all over you. Where'd you get that bat anyway? Just how much did you hit someone?"

They were more confused than concerned, annoyed, even. Still, they grabbed a wet cloth and started cleaning one cheek, and their hand went on the other.

"Plus it's too late to back down now, due to being further in. So..."

"But I wanted to protect you guys! This jerk started bein' mean to you and Dad!"

"I know, I know, but we're adults, honey. We can handle this ourselves."

"Your nari is correct, Little Miss Sunshine. You needn't worry about a thing."

His tone was somewhat on edge...truthfully, he was not in the best mood. With all the...interesting asks from the anons as of late, it was becoming more and more frustrating. How many people did he have to kill this week? Last week? It was too many...

"Now, give me the bat please~"

"No."

"...what?"

"Oh no."

"I. Said. No."

"Oh ho ho! Surely, that's meant as a joke, my dear! You're quite a jokester, well played!"

He kept his hand outstretched for her to give him her softball bat. Yet when she glared at him, things certainly got interesting. Her defiance was new...perhaps she was passionate about what she was fighting for here.

"Oh, so funny I forgot to laugh. But I'm keeping the bat."

"My my, how charming! But I'm being serious, hand over the bat please."

"No."

"Excuse me?"

"I said no, I'm not gonna let this anon go unscathed. They're being a douche!"

"We can handle ourselves."

"But I want to help."

"You don't need to."

"Can you just let me?!"

At this point, she sounded rather...uncharacteristically bratty. This was new...and he didn't like it.

"...ahah. Well, I didn't think I'd have to do this."

"...Alastor, what are you going to do?"

"Oh, nothing too horrendous. But just enough for her to listen."

The smile dropped. He looked dead serious and dead tired now, given on how much his eyes were narrowing.

"Give me the goddamn bat before I ground you for talking back to me, Samantha."

"....fine."

"Splendid! Now, clean yourself up honey, because there is no need for any more violence!"

All she did was mumble something incoherently and tread off, still annoyed. Bat in hand, he brandished it out of boredom.

"I wonder what's wrong with her."

"She's probably just annoyed with the anons, Al..."

"...ah. True..."

And that was all the confirmation he needed.

#Sardonic Sexymen - Sam DT and Alastor #original post #art #fanart #original art #image reply #text reply #alastor #double trouble #samantha #Dance To The Masochism Tango - DT x Alastor #Smiles and Sadism - Sam and Alastor #Drama and Sweetness - DT and Sam #implied radiotrouble #tumblr sexymen #cw pregnancy mention #cw blood #cw weapon #((sam is feeling FROGGY fr #((but don't worry she means well #((also don't be sorry!! I too love the angst :3 #((tysm for the ask <333 #I Live For The Applause~ - Double Trouble #Smile Like You Mean It!~ - Alastor The Radio Demon #Running Low On Serotonin~ - Samantha