#Five's lived half a lifetime without them | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

black-is-iconic · 3 months

Text

When The Past Comes Knocking

There wasn't a single day Tengen didn't think about you, you were a constant in his mind like a persistent itch he couldn't scratch. His first love, his soulmate his……everything.

And then like sand through an hourglass you were gone in a single breath, leaving a gaping hole in his heart where your presence was supposed to be.

He waited for you, day and night, searched all the corners of the continent for any sign of you or even just the slightest whiff of you but never found anything. For weeks, months…..a lifetime of waiting. Begging, praying to a higher power for your return….but it was all for naught.

You…were gone, vanished into thin air dead, gone forever. His world came crashing down around him as he fell into a deep depression, unable to go on living without you.

There was no hope. Despair consumed him, his world, everything he loved, gone in the blink of an eye….and all because he was feeling lazy, because he wanted a little more sleep.

He'd practically signed your death warrant when he passed the mission onto you and rolled back over to sleep. And it's haunted him ever since, every waking moment, ever dreamless sleep.

But he moved on…taking up demon slaying…he married…three times…three beautiful wives…..each and everyone of them perfection their own right, but….even with their beauty, kindness compassion and love he couldn't find solace within them.

He had so many regrets…so much regret. None of them held a candle to your visage, they were beautiful distractions, a means to an end that didn't satisfy. But it would do, it would have to.

The past is the past and nothing can change it, so imagine his surprise when he locked eyes….with the very person who plagued him for the last past six years…..

Your only thoughts were of Tengen from the moment you locked eyes as children, to each day spent chasing each other around the village…you were inseparable. And you always thought it be that way, except his father….for all intensive purposes…hated your guts.

He was always trying to pluck you from Tengen's life like a farmer pulling a weed from his precious harvest.

He'd gone out his way to ruin your relationship with Samui (meaning cold) one of the younger Uzui brothers, and even tried to get Tengen to drop you, but Tengen was unrelenting sticking to you like glue. Which only pissed of his father to a much more extreme level.

His father didn't approve of you lingering around his sons or daughters, despite you also hailing from a pretty well known ninja clan, and you being better than half if not most of the kunoichi in his own clan.

He could never let an exotic (a derogatory term for foreigner or non native) delude his family. You were a stain, your dark skin a flaw amongst his pure 'noble' clan, and he constantly tried to cleanse your presence away by ostracizing Tengen whenever possible.

But it was inevitable, you were both ninja. Sneaking around was kind of your whole schtick, and whenever he would cut you off one way you'd just find another.

You we're deeply in love with each other and nothing would get between you, your actions clearly proved that….and nothing did come between you…until that one fateful night. You should've known, once a snake always a snake.

But you were so relived when he dropped his obsession with weeding you from Tengen's life…..that you ignored the warning signs, were….glaringly obvious the wide smiles gentle touches and sudden interest in your every movement.

The way he suddenly opened his arms to you as if you were new found daughter. That's why you didn't see it coming, that night……but it didn't matter.

Because you were back, back in Japan, back home…and you had a surprise…well actually two.

Two little surprises clutching the hem of you kimono, [Son/Name] and [Daughter/Name] just barely five years old, it would seem your family's twin gene struck again.

But apparently…Tengen had surprises for you as well. Three of them in fact, when you knocked on the door to his home…you weren't sure what you were expecting but two women wasn't exactly it.

"Um, sorry I think this is the wrong house" you murmured turning away as the strange woman stared at you wide eyed and gasping like a fish out of water as you turned to leave she snapped out of it.

Grasping your shoulders roughly and shouting "WAI-" but she never got to finish because you swiftly grabbed her wrist and twisted her arm behind her back, hooking your leg under hers and sending her toppling to the ground.

In one swift movement you had placed a kunai against the soft flesh of her throat, her mouth open in shock and terror. "DO. NOT. TOUCH. ME."

You hissed coolly and she nodded slowly "I'm sorry I'm sorry, it's just you're….her" she said almost in reverance…..as if you weren't…..holding a deadly weapon to her throat.

You sighed releasing her and placing the kunai back in it's pouch [S/N] tugged on you're sleeve "Mama I'm hungry" he whispered as [D/N] nodded along always the silent one out of the two.

The woman before you, a heavy chested, pale skinned blue eyed bimbo looked ecstatic as shed eyed your two toddlers who felt uncomfortable under intense gaze and hid behind your frame.

"I CAN MAKE YOU SOMETHING IF YOU LIKE, YOU'RE SO MUCH CUTER THAN THE PORTRAITS" the woman shouted lunging at you and earning a swift kick to her ribcage sending her sliding across the ground.

"What do you not understand, about do not touch me?" You asked brow arched as she looked at you with wide eyes, she looked down slightly ashamed pressing her fingers together "S-sorry sorry, you don't know me" .

She said anxiously rubbing her arm "of course it would be weird to just hug a stranger, um I'm Suma Uzui" she murmured in a calmer sheepish tone.

Offering you her hand to shake, you looked down at it slightly hesitant to take her hand and ultimately deciding to ignore it all together.

"Um I'm sorry did you say, Suma Uzui? I thought all of Tengen's sisters died…", the woman- Suma tilted her head and began laughing as if you told a joke but when she saw you were serious she stopped laughing rubbing the back of her head.

"O-Oh I'm um not his sister, I'm his wife" she murmured softly watching your facial expression keenly for the slightest change…but there was none besides the slightest parting of your lips. Wife……that word echoed in your mind like a broken record.

"Wife, huh?" You spoke after what felt like an eternity, your lips twitching slightly as you fought off a slight frown, you swallowed harshly…..Suma shuffled in place awkwardly watching the slight emotion slip through your quivering lips.

"U-Um would you like to come in for some tea?" She offered reaching out for you, but you backed away. It was like if suddenly the breath was stripped from your lungs and the world began to spin the only thing grounding you, was the warmth of your son and daughters tiny fingers wrapped around yours.

"I-I see" you whispered in a hushed voice before looking back at her "no… I mean….thank you for asking, however, I need to be going now, sorry for intruding" you whispered backing away slowly "w-wait Y/N please stay he misses you so much, he'll be so happy you're back".

Suma pleaded clutching your hand you simply looked down at her hand on yours and she flinched back. "Ah yes, he missed me so much he remarried" you spoke bitterly venom coating your words as your lashes blinked back tears.

Suma looked down at the ground "h-he was in a really rough spot when he married me and the others, but not a day goes by-" she spoke but stopped when your brows raised and eyes sharpened "Others, plural?"

You asked in a cracked in a whisper, and she took a deep breath clutching her scantily kimono hem. You shielded your children's eyes from such depravity the kimono barely came past her lower thigh- don't be rude….don't…be bitter.

It's not her fault, you rehearse slowly. Suma looked at you with pity, and it only added fuel to the flames of bitter anger inside of you and a sense of betrayal as your eyes narrowed and jaw clenched.

"Yeah, there's two others Hina and Makio" she murmured "b-but you're clearly the favorite" she said quickly trying to comfort you but it felt more like a stab to the heart than anything. you wanted to cry and laugh at the same time.

Laugh at your own stupidity for thinking he'd wait six years for your return, and cry cause you thought you were special enough to warrant the waiting.

"The favorite, my aren't I lucky to be the kings favorite whore". You snap sarcastically and she flinched, "I'm sorry" you started taking a deep breath as the tears finally raced down your cheeks, "I-I'm sorry…I'm just" "It's okay, this is a lot, I can see why you might be angry" "Um, I think I'll take you up on that tea".

Your eyes never leave her as she makes the tea, and your hand never leaves your kunai.

If you've learned anything from your past mishaps its trust no one and always be prepared so when she came to you with the tea pot, you opened it and checked it's contents just to make sure it wasn't an assassin's tea pot.

And for extra security you made her sip the tea first and waited a couple of minutes to see if it had any effects, the tension in the air is palpable and awkward.

The house was almost exactly how you remember it last only more colorful and vibrant you busied yourself with preparing a meal for your Son and Daughter who clung tightly to your side, it's clear they too were uneasy you made something simple. Stuffed dumplings and pot stickers you even made some for the bim- Suma….for Suma.

You couldn't take your anger out on Suma, she was entirely innocent in this. She eagerly accepted the plate with a wide smile "sorry for the earlier hostility" you murmured shyly and she gushed waving it off.

"No no, it's completely understandable you were gone and then you come back and there's a random woman in your house, trying to touch you and ranting how they know everything about you, it's um…it's a normal reaction I just got a bit carried away" she muttered softly.

she muttered softly an awkward silence falls between the two of you as you just kinda look anywhere but at each other.

Her eyes kept flickering to [S/N] and [D/n} and you seriously hoped she wouldn't ask about them because you really, really didn't want to talk about it….at least with her….no offense she seemed nice and all. But she was a total stranger….and Tengen's wife a voice whispered in the back of your head and you clutched the fabric on your knees tightly.

It was unfair of you to be mad at Tengen, you told yourself, six years is a long time…..he probably thought you were dead. You're okay with this, you reassured yourself this is okay….you repated in your head while cradling [S/N] on you're lap and [D/N] snuggled your hip resting her head on your thigh, "what are their names?"

Sumas asked softly, and you smiled "[S/N] and [D/N]" you answered softly and she smiled. "Those are lovely names, their beautiful" she spoke scooching slightly closer.

You pulled away a bit and smiled awkwardly "yay", another intense bout of silence followed….before suddenly the door open and in walked two more woman who you presumed to be the other wives, your chest ached and your skin crawled slightly as they quickly made their way over to you and suddenly you were uncomfortable.

You were antisocial, always have been, probably always would be. It took a bit of pestering from Tengen for a friendship to blossom, "um, hi Y/N is it?"

A woman in a purple kimono spoke and you gave a single nod, she looked just as stiff and anxious as you felt long lashes fluttering softly "hi I'm Hinatsuru, um how are you?"

She asked softly, uncertainty laced within the octaves of her voice "fine" you responded briskly with a little more hostility than you intend as your hand clutched tighter around your babies who watched on curiously, Hinatsuru didn't flinch but she looked slightly flustered "s-so um" "I'll leave" you spoke after another awkward pause, "w-wait maybe we should talk?"

Hina tried as you scooped up [D/N] and [S/N] "about what? We don't know each other, this is painstakingly awkward, you all seem lovely but um…….I'll try a little later" you murmured walking towards the door and opening it only to come face to face….with Tengen.

#kny x reader #black reader #demon slayer #tengen x reader

76 notes · View notes

closetsof-backlogged-dreams · 1 month

Note

HI QUEEN!!!! thoughts on the vision morgause showed to arthur and her motivations/was she lying/ should Arthur have killed uther?

AHHHHHH IVE BEEN WANTED TO BE ASKED THIS AND I DIDNT EVEN KNOW IT

alright so i think the first thing that needs to be considered is what her intentions were when she showed him the vision. i think the main consensus is that she wanted Arthur to kill Uther, and while i agree, i think Morgause deserves a few more layers than that. i genuinely think Morgause wanted the truth to be known.

imo, from what we've seen, Morgause is extremely similar to Morgana. in the early seasons, Morgana is justice with kindness. Morgause is justice without. Later, we watch Morgause slowly "corrupt" Morgana and watch her lose her kindness, turning her into the heartless villain she is by season five.

i think Morgause, while not out of the deep goodness of her heart, saw the injustice, and wanted it to be corrected. this manifested mostly in the form of Uther's death, but i do believe a small part of her just wanted the truth to be known :)

whether or not she was lying is something we will never truly know, but she could have been lying about two different things, and i want to attack them separately.

i 100% believe she wasn't lying about Uther using magic for Arthur's birth. i've wondered A LOT how the fuck she knew though, because sorry, who told her?? and merlin is the show it is, so it doesn't tell you these things, but there are enough breadcrumbs left behind so that we can assume she was a pupil of Nimueh's and learned of it from her.

but whether it was actually a vision of Ygraine? i really don't know. i'm not going to lie, the first time i saw the scene, it gave me all the wrong vibes. the ghost of Ygraine is able to meet her son for >5 minutes and one of the maybe two things she says to him is about how Uther used magic to birth Arthur and it killed her?? i don't know. it's strange.

but we also have to remember that we actually don't know anything about Ygraine! honestly, the fandom and fics tend to mention her x10 more than the actual show does. Arthur hardly speaks of her, as well as Uther, and we have to remember that this is the man who essentially killed his wife and is forced to live with that every goddamn day and is 100% romanticizing the woman she was—and then all Arthur has ever heard of her is this romanticized version from his father, and this is the dead mother he's never met. he's going to do some embellishing of her own.

so, for all we know, Ygraine was a terrible person. we really don't know. so i have no conclusive answer to whether or not Morgause was lying about it being a vision, and i think the show actually intended it that way. because that doesn't actually matter. what Ygraine said—that's the truth. the cold, honest truth. whether it actually came from his mother or from a false mimicry of her doesn't actually matter.

another thing i find really interesting is that while Morgause was obviously trying to provoke Arthur with this information and was clearly manipulating him, she really didn't take any extreme steps to ensure he killed Uther. this was also her first step to bring down Uther. it's almost like she tried to find the most moral option she could that dealt the fairest form of justice, and only when it failed was she forced to resort to more gruesome, hands-on approaches.

it also really doesn't seem like she has anything against Arthur in the beginning, which is so fascinating to me, but moving on lol.

now for the BIG one:

should Arthur have killed Uther in The Sins of the Father?

god, this one is hard, because you have to consider it from all angles.

from an objective, justice-based standpoint, you could say that Morgause was absolutely in the right in all of this, and that after learning this information, it was Arthur's duty to kill his father. his father killed his own wife due to his desperation for an heir, and then spent half a lifetime destroying an entire culture and group of people in an attempt to stem his guilt.

so, yes. Arthur should have killed his father, if we're viewing this from the eyes of pure justice.

but for Arthur's own conscious? from a political standpoint? absolutely the fuck not. it would have destroyed Arthur. even when Uther died season four, he was a wreck, so imagine if it has been Arthur. dear god.

and then imagine being an average citizen of Camelot, for whom Uther was probably an alright to not great king, but no one who deserves death, and learning that your beloved Prince Arthur committed patricide and his now king? jesus. that's not how you establish good subject-monarch relations.

and if enemy kingdoms heard about it? god, all the knights must be horribly divided, because most of them swore themselves to Camelot and its royalty, but who the hell do you stand with when your two royals tried to kill each other and one of them was successful? enemy kingdoms would attack, and with their armies as divided as they'd be, who knows how that'd go.

so overall, no. i genuinely believe Arthur shouldn't have killed his father. but that doesn't mean that Uther didn't deserve death.

anyways, i think that's all! this was a lot of fun, and tysm for the ask once again <3

#merlin meta #merthur #merlin #bbc merlin #bbcm #merlin thoughts #merlin discussion #morgause #the sins of the father #arthur pendragon

48 notes · View notes

xelasrecords · 3 months

Text

Secrets and Sacrifices

Han Jumin x Reader

NSFW

Jumin and you make sacrifices for the RFA. You don't know how much more you can take, but Jumin does not plan to let you out of his sight.

Secret Ending AU where the secrets drag on and relationships are more complicated.

TW: depression, self-harm, controlling behaviour

Words: 2.8k

Masterlist Read on AO3

Your friends are laughing around you. The restaurant lighting has dimmed, and the lambent glow from the candle on the table illuminates their happy faces. All of you are tucked into a padded leather sofa in the corner, the live music playing behind you.

You echo their laughter. It's the appropriate response.

Seven is sharing an outrageous tale, and Yoosung is his enraptured audience, constantly nodding and asking follow-up questions. Zen chides him for believing everything Seven says but still laughs along. Beside you, Jaehee reaches over you and sets the empty plates aside in anticipation of Seven's dramatic gestures.

Jumin is impervious to the racket. He swirls his wine and watches the advertising screen outside the window, the billboard flashing bright in the evening. His grey eyes are glazed, unfocused. He's missing V, you're sure. That's all he does, aside from worrying about you. Waits for V to contact him.

Languidly, you lay your head against the cushion. This should be a pleasant dinner, but there's a damper placed on your emotion valve. You've lost the means to conjure the excitement you once felt. The knowledge of missing them is not the same as feeling it.

You look down at the corduroy skirt that has ridden up to your waist, exposing more than half of your thighs. You dig your nails into them. Five seconds and release. Little scythes are imprinted on your skin. There, a feeling. You swipe your fingers through the indents with dull fascination.

Today is one of the rare days when you are cleared to venture outside without compromising security, but showing up here feels like a farce. You're playing puppet to prove that you're fine before being corralled back to Rika’s sterile shoebox apartment.

Jumin and Seven's dutiful little puppet, that's what you are.

When you glance up, you can feel the weight of Jumin's attention on you, intense gaze shifting from your lap to your neutral face.

You don't feel guilty. He will find out anyway.

You drag your skirt down and straighten your posture, the band sitting around your hips again.

"Is everything well?" Across from you, Jumin's smooth baritone voice rises above the peals of laughter and the increasingly loud music.

The chatter halts as your friends turn to you with a concerned expression.

You crack a smile. "I'm all right. Just tired." Jaehee squeezes your hand, and you pat hers with reassurance. The friendship you foster with this little group is built on thin ice, and long cracks have been crawling across the surface. "Let's go back, I have work tomorrow. So do all of you."

Seven's shrewd eyes flash at you before he grins widely at the others. "Except for Yoosung!" He pokes Yoosung's side, which earns him a light punch on his shoulder.

"A wise decision," Jumin says. "Everyone should get some rest."

"Easy for you to say." Zen glares at him. "I don't think I can sleep a wink tonight. My skin is ruined from all my lost beauty sleep." He sighs and turns to Seven. "Is there no progress on V's secret files?"

Seven pouts and shakes his head. "I'm still trying to break through the encryption walls, but Jumin can give me Elly to boost my motivation!"

Zen instantly sneezes and curses while Jaehee hurries to pass him a napkin.

An agent with a lifetime of diversion training. You hold back a scoff.

Jumin, Seven, and you are only shrouding yourselves with more secrets because you are determined to reach the same goal: Don't let harm come to the RFA. Don't share any information unless it's crucial. Not even Jaehee. Not yet. Let them live in the almost idyllic bubble as long as they can.

For a split second, Jumin seems as if he's about to scold Seven for the deliberate mispronunciation of his cat's name, but he shakes his head and calls for the bill instead.

Jumin has changed. You wonder how much he has to pay in unravelling V's secrets. If selling his peace is worth the members' peace. But you know what answer he would give. It has never been a matter of choosing for him. He will always protect the RFA.

He will always protect you.

Along with the others, you file out of the restaurant through its gilded swinging doors. Jumin immediately arranges their transport home and reminds them to inform their arrival in the chatroom. You pretend not to see Seven exchanging a calculating look with Jumin, his mask briefly slipping. You wait for your turn, but it never comes.

You have anticipated that, though.

Jumin places his hand on your lower back, his dark hair in slight disarray from the wind. You shiver. His touch still has the power to hold you together just as it has the strength to pull you apart. "Driver Kim is already on his way. You won't have to wait for long."

You nod and stare out the parking lot. Surveillance disguised as an act of chivalry. Since Seven stopped trusting V's contingency plans and revealed your address to the members, he and Jumin have worked together to keep you safe as you help them clean up the mess V left behind.

A familiar black car pulls up before you, and Jumin holds the backseat door open. You climb in, greeting Driver Kim before giving him your address. Jumin enters after and sits so close beside you that his trousers brush against your bare leg.

You press your thigh against him a little more.

Jumin gently caresses your knee, but there's a frown on his face. "Your address is already saved in my car navigation. Did you forget that?"

You have honestly forgotten. Thoughts slip around you these days. Try as you may to capture them, it's as if you have to squint through a lattice window to make out the memory fragments and piece them together. You get away with it most of the time, the fact that you struggle to pay attention.

But Jumin always pays too close attention to you.

"I remember now." You shrug.

Jumin isn't inclined to drop the matter. "I have picked you up more than once. If there's any problem with your memories, you should get it checked out. I will arrange a doctor's appointment for you."

"You're blowing things out of proportion."

The car starts to move. Driver Kim has polished his pretence of not hearing your conversation. He taps the radio screen, and a soft murmur floats through the small space.

Jumin's hand on your knee tightens into a grip, but not firm enough to hurt. "You have been forgetting a lot of things."

"Not when they're important," you say. "I won't compromise our mission, so lay off me. I can forget things. I'm human." You huff out a tired sigh. "Don't you have more things to worry about?"

His voice is constricted. "Do not presume other matters are more important than you."

"V?"

He draws his hand into his lap. "Both of you are of equal importance."

You stare out the window, yellow street lamps and glass towers sweeping past you. You're going back to a place that makes you want to scratch your skin loose. Your freedom is restricted to the apartment and wherever an RFA member accompanies you.

"I've watched the romantic drama you recommended," Jumin says after a few moments. "You're right, I did like it. It's curious how the man is always there to catch the woman when she falls. The distance and his human speed should've made it impossible."

At another time, you would have smiled at his endearing fascination and proclivity to pick apart a mystery until he understood it inside out. Now you glance at him without emotion. "Dramas operate by their own logic."

Jumin tries for a smile. "Nevertheless, it was sufficient entertainment to unwind after work. I must thank you for that."

"I'm glad it helped."

He shifts his body towards you. "How would you feel if I attempted to catch you when you fell?"

You purse your lips. "I won't fall around you."

"But if you do?"

You try to ponder over it, but it's like trying to break through rough currents that threaten to swallow you. The effort is exhausting. "You might not be fast enough," you say. "You're not armed with magical drama abilities."

"Then being there with you at all times would solve it." There's a hint of finality in Jumin's tone.

Of course.

You rest your head against the window, the glass cold against your temple. "That sounds impractical."

"It is better than watching the people I love lose themselves because they're too stubborn to ask for help."

Your lips tug up in the tiniest smirk. "Interesting. Han Jumin feels more than me. I never thought this day would come."

You glimpse at him, but he doesn't seem offended. How disappointing. You're right at the centre where his emotions are concentrated. You thought that would have included his anger.

"I would say it's concerning," Jumin says. "I know how that emptiness feels. If what you're experiencing is worse than that—"

"You'll force me to get treatment?"

His hands curl into a fist in his lap. "I'm not fond of coercion, but if you pose a danger to yourself, then I will do what I must."

You can't keep the irritation out of your voice. "Of course. Thank you for caring."

"I always care." Jumin's fingers hover near your cheek, and you think he's going to touch you, and you wait for him to—but he drops it to his side.

"And look how it ruins you."

Jumin dips his chin sharply. The shadow in the car obscures his expression, but you can make out the lines of exhaustion in the corner of his eyes. There is only so much he can put up with before it eats at him, always bracing for tragedy to befall everyone around him.

You're not supposed to be on the list of the people he wants to protect.

"Loving you doesn't ruin me. It's the best emotion I have ever felt." He runs his hand up your arm and pauses at the slope of your shoulder. "So let me care for you. Don't go. Don't go as far as V has."

You can't wrap your head around the driving force behind Jumin's obsession for your survival. You don't even care as much. It probably has something to do with how you can see right through him. He's attached to the validation you can offer him. You make him feel like a person. You're the only one who sees him as he is, now he can't let you go.

"V is your closest friend. He'll come back to you eventually."

"He won't," Jumin states flatly. "Rika is all he sees, and his range of vision has pathetically narrowed. You needn't bother with consolations. I know where my place is on his priority list."

Pressure burgeons within you like a fist thrusting into your ribcage and twisting your lungs. You hold on to the sensation, thankful to still be able to feel certain pains for Jumin. You wind your hand around his tie and press your lips somberly against his. He tastes of matured grapes and sweet memories long gone.

You have loved him until it ruined you too.

Jumin hooks his arm around your waist and pushes you against the car door, his other hand moving around the back of your head to soften the blow. His fingers trace down your ear and jaw before tilting your chin up and deepening the kiss.

His hand slides up the back of your thigh and toys with the lining of your panties. You hitch your leg up, allowing him to slide between you as he presses himself harder against you, his breathing harsh against your parted lips.

You can feel his need for you between your legs and you wish to satiate him, but it's as though your limbs and nerves are molten lead. You can burn him up with a single touch and you do it without feeling anything.

You want him, but the desire is cerebral.

Jumin pauses and pulls away when he notices your lack of fervour. He opens his mouth to apologise, but you grab his arms, feeling the lean muscles beneath the suit, and shake your head.

Not your fault.

He searches your face, then nods. This has happened before.

You don't know how you reached this point. You keep losing things that you can't afford to lose and you're tired of it. Your freedom, your fundamental need for Jumin. You don't know how to protect your senses from atrophying.

He smooths down your crumpled hair and blouse, murmuring, "I had expressed my wish not to be consoled, yet you still went against me."

"This is the only time I don't have to obey you."

Jumin stills. "I am not trying to restrict you."

"So if I ask you to stop monitoring my schedule and chaperoning me, either by yourself or someone you personally approve of, would you?"

He brushes your swollen lips with his thumb. "Can you promise me you won't get yourself killed if I decrease the security?"

"I promise." You straighten his tie to align it with the buttons and trail your fingers up his chest.

Jumin seems to consider it before shaking his head and chuckling. "You're a good liar."

You grip the lapels of his suit. "It's not up to me if the hacker decides to attack me."

"But you won't put up a fight either."

You let your hands fall and avert your gaze to the blur of passing cars behind him.

Jumin sighs. "It's only until we dissolve Mint Eye and you are safe from the threats that brought you here. Perhaps you would be happier and less inclined to throw self-preservation to the wind."

You clench your jaw and dig your nails into your thighs. Your life is getting smaller and smaller each day. There will always be another condition from him as your condition gets worse. Jumin will not stop. As long as the fight against Mint Eye goes on, you will always be under his extreme surveillance.

Jumin means well, you know it. You wouldn't have survived this long if he and Seven didn't force you to.

You carve your nails in with all your strength, clawing until they break your skin, but there's no blood. It's always harder when you mean to do it.

You don't want to be fixed all the time. Sometimes you want to shatter into pieces. Sometimes you feel safer when you're small.

"I can't breathe, Jumin," you say, desperation seeping into your voice.

He flicks his eyes down and wraps his hand around your wrists in an instant. "Stop doing that. Stop hurting yourself."

"This?" You laugh. "It's nothing more than you and Seven have been doing to me. I've always been willing to help you two with your plans, however immoral they are. I'd do them myself even without you. But I never gave you permission to track me like a prisoner."

His gaze turns hard. "You wouldn't let me if I asked."

"I'm the unhappiest I've ever been and you don't even care." You try to pull your hands away, but he won't budge. "You don't want me to be happy."

"I deeply apologise. I never mean to cause you pain." His face contorts with guilt. "Please hold on a little longer. It will be over soon. V will provide us with an explanation, and things will return to how they were."

"You're naïve if you think it's that easy. This is not your drama with a fairytale happy ending."

"If I don't harbour hope in everyone's stead, what chance do we have in surviving?" Jumin says, and lets out a ragged breath. "We will get through this catastrophe. You can depend on me if you can't find the strength to go on. Just—stay with me. Do not leave."

You think you should cry. You can feel an emotion bubbling, blistering but never quite reaching its boiling point. It's frustrating. Breaking down under pressure is one of the most human things to do, yet the most you can muster is observational agitation.

Love changes things. He loves you and you're paying the price for it.

You look at him with deadened eyes. "You have never made leaving possible, Jumin."

"Good," Jumin says, his voice terse. He doesn't let go of your wrists.

You sink into your seat, deep into the corner where the lights do not reach. There is a kind of loneliness that has grown into a corporeal shadow inside the cavity of you.

You yearn to make its existence known to someone.

You have no one to tell.

Footnotes:

I couldn't flesh these out due to fic length, but I want to get them out there anyway: 1) Reader isn't in therapy because Jumin and Seven aren't well-versed in mental health and Jumin thinks he's enough to fix her for now. She just doesn't care. 2) Jaehee is excluded from the secret subgroup because reader takes over her role in task execution and more.

I... didn't mean to write a dark Jumin or include canon plot elements. I feel like my fics lately are a "how dark can I make this" challenge. The initial idea was just Jumin being there for a lonely reader and it'd be wholesome and comforting, but it got worse through each draft. It had been satisfying to write.

I'd hoped my first fic with the big cast would be one where everyone's personalities are prominent, but apparently, I had to write it from a depressed reader's POV so everything is warped and muted instead. Maybe next time.

There's a paragraph that I reworked from my now inactive IG writing account c: I guess it's not plagiarism if you're copying yourself?

I like it when my MCs are a lil manipulative xoxo

The header concept is Jumin's obsessive surveillance, shown through the clear box tracking his eyes while the rest is blurred, and the toxic intimacy of how Jumin is the one who yearns more but they're separated by a thin yet impenetrable barrier. I was so happy that this clip fits my vision, with an Asian man at that! It's hard to find good free stock footage of Asians. And tap the GIF for better quality.

Buy me a glass of something that's definitely not coffee because I can't stand it but it is the website's name if my story touches you in some way? No worries if you don't. I'm still grateful you've read all the way through here.

#someday i will write a romantic kissing scene but today is not that day #jumin x reader #tw depression #tw self harm #jumin han angst #jumin han smut #mystic messenger fanfiction #jumin han #mystic messenger #mysme #jumin han fic #xela writes

49 notes · View notes

mbappebby · 1 year

Text

Like their older brothers || Fourteen

Ethan Mbappé x Anisah Hakimi (OC)

Summary: Anisah and Ethan decided to buy an apartment together without their brothers knowing..

Requested: Yes, by anonymous: Hey! Can I request something for that series, where Ethan and Anisah buy an apartment together? But they don’t tell Kylian and Achraf and they find out during training one day and Anisah and Ethan get a talk of a lifetime by them? Thank you, love your writing keep it up!

Words: 0.8K +

Series

“What’s with the faces for?” Neymar asked. “They are hiding something from us” Kylian said as him and Achraf looked over at their younger siblings.

“Why do you think that?” Presnel asked. “They have been leaving and not coming back for hours” Achraf added which Kylian agreeing.

“Don’t they normally do that anyways?” Leo said. “Yeah, but this time is different! My parents know something as well” Kylian replied.

“Hiba knows something as well,” Achraf added. “So, why don’t you just talk to them or you go and talk to Anisah and Ethan?” Neymar asked which made the both of them shrug their shoulders.

“What’s going on?” Sergio asked as he joined the five of them. “Anisah and Ethan are hiding something apparently” Neymar told him. “Oh, they still haven’t told them that they have bought an apartment?” Sergio said.

“They did what?!” Kylian and Achraf shouted and started to walk over to their younger siblings. “I’m sorry, Nisa and Eth!!” Sergio called. “We trusted you!” Anisah called back.

“Aw they are really growing up aren’t they?” Neymar said. “I mean they are going to have the talk of their lives now” Leo added. “I want to know how you found out” Presnel said and looked at Sergio.

“It’s a long story” Sergio told them.

“You two bought an apartment?!” Kylian exclaimed. “Without telling us?” Achraf added. “Mum and dad knew” Ethan said with Anisah nodded.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Kylian asked. “Because we knew you would both react like this, duh!” Anisah replied. “We should of known though!” Achraf said.

“We are sorry, okay? We knew you both wouldn’t like it. If you accepted it you both would want to just buy the apartment for us and we didn’t want that” Ethan told them.

“Okay that’s true but still, you both hid it from us!” Kylian said. “We would of helped you with buying it all, if you told us” Achraf added.

“That’s the point! We didn’t want you to help us as we wanted to do this alone with our own money and everything!” Anisah replied. “It’s all finished now, so all you can do is visit” Ethan said.

“After training?” Kylian asked. “Sure! As long as you both drop it now?” Anisah added. “We will!” Acharf replied. “We don’t believe you, we know your going to be talking about it with the rest of the team in the canteen” Ethan told them.

Kylian and Achraf rolled their eyes and they watched their younger siblings run off and continue in the training session.

“I swear they are going to kill us one day, it’s always something they need to tell us who knows what will be next” Kylian said.

“I don’t want to think about any of that, they are growing up too fast” Achraf added.

“We know your annoyed at them, but all they wanted to do is be independent” Sergio said. “I know but I just wished they told us” Kylian replied.

“They knew you both would just want to buy the apartment for them and they wanted to buy it for themselves” Neymar told them. “True, but still don’t you think it’s too soon?” Achraf added.

“It’s been over like a year and half they have been together for now. You two have to let them go at one point” Leo said with Kylian and Achraf sighing.

“What’s going on here?” Anisah said as she ruffled Kylian’s hair. “Nisa, don’t make my mood more worse that it is” Kylian replied. “Why can’t you both just get over it?” Anisah added.

“Because we can’t” Achraf said. “We may still be your younger siblings but we are growing up! You have to let us go at one point” Ethan replied.

“When you both got out of your bad moods and accept it then we might let you come and see our apartment but for now you can’t! See you tomorrow for training!” Anisah added as her and Ethan left.

“Well, that told you” Neymar mumbled. “Just let it go and accept it you two” Sergio added which made Kylian and Achraf nod their heads.

“We are sorry” Kylian and Achraf said to their siblings when they walked onto the training pitch. “Have you both fully accepted it now?” Anisah asked.

“We have, so can we come and see it now?” Kylian added. “Sure, after training you can both come over if you want” Ethan said.

“We are proud of you both” Achraf added. “Proud of what?” Anisah asked. “You both are so independent now, you both have just grown up so much” Achraf told them.

“Don’t sound like our parents, please. We aren’t kids anymore” Ethan mumbled which made Anisah giggle and ruffle his hair before running away.

Ethan caught up to and wrapped his arms around her as he started to tickle her. "They will always act like kids" Kylian mumbled. "You two are just as bad!" Anisah shouted.

"We are not!" Achraf called. "Whatever you say!" Ethan added which made Kylian and Achraf start to run over to their both siblings.

"You are all kids!" Sergio shouted.

#football #football imagines #kylian mbappe #achraf hakimi #kylian mbappe imagine #achraf hakimi imagine #kylian mbappe x reader #achraf hakimi x reader #psg

113 notes · View notes

randomfoggytiger · 1 year

Text

X-Files Collector's Edition: Fics That Deserve More Comments (Part I)

There isn't enough recognition for these fics in my opinion-- and that's a shame and must be rectified! SO-- I'm pushing this list out ASAP, without the usual aplomb and probably half-cocked; but it's the final results that count~. (At least that's what I tell myself.)

**Note**: All of these will be in a more detailed list in future.

**Note Again**: I got too tired to thoroughly finish it all professionally; but I decided to hit publish anyway. Have fun reading~.

**Note the 3rd**: This is probably littered with typos-- will ghost edit later. >:))))

Very loose chronological order below~

@txcb1013/charvill1981's

Paths Most Dangerous

AU-- Pre-S1 Captain Scully is warned by his old mate about Scully's new job, both men realizing it has to do with the Piper Maru submarine.

Save by the Sight of Her

Pusher Mulder observes Scully's hurt, betrayal, and quick wit with a gun to her face; but she still keeps him guessing.

The Longest Summer

Post IWTB Mulder had tried to garden himself out of depression. Scully takes some plants with her, hoping that some space will help him heal while not letting him hide out at home forever.

Role of a Lifetime - Chapter 3

AU-- Post IWTB Scully disappeared; and Mulder finds someone he believes to be her five years later. All is not sunshine and roses, with her slowly repelling the life she used to live. This chapter explores Mulder's heartbreak and her explanation-- it's not him she's rejecting, but her own fears of herself.

Rainy Day

Pre-S10 Scully returns, telling Mulder her cancer has returned. He then surprises her twice: by fainting dead away, and proposing immediately after.

Jo_B's

Anterograde

Deep Throat Mulder is deeply shocked and grateful at how capable, empathetic, and understanding Scully is after his rescue.

holocene

Post Redux II Mulder crashes at his apartment as reality sinks in: in just 24 hours, Scully will be energetically packing her bag and going back home.

@agentmulderrp's

Unnamed

Squeeze Mulder is glad that Scully stuck around.

Unnamed

Irresistible Mulder regrets that he hadn't arrived sooner, realizing Scully's "I'm fine" is code for anything but.

Unnamed

Per Manum Mulder is so shocked at Scully's request that he gets a pencil bop to the face. (Set right after he and Scully started dating.)

That WALKERKid's

These selfish wants of mine

Post One Breath Mulder breaks into his office and tears it apart.

No matter how it happened, I do love you

S8 Mulder massages Scully's feet aches, in awe over his baby's foot outline and "UFO’s, road trips and mummy and daddy being in love".

Of all the things this unremarkable house has seen

Pre-S10 Mulder jogs along, depressed and thinking he'll never be forgiven. Scully calls, trying to veil her concern.

The questions we don't ask each other

S10 Mulder asks a Magic 8 ball if Scully will ever forgive him; and receives no clear answer.

pir8grl 's This Time

Mulder and Scully trade gentle touches, having escaped death this time.

AlineLovelace's Jericho

AU Scully's body has vanished; but her ghost keeps trying to get Mulder-- who haunts her 'grave'-- to move on with life.

forgottenwords's

Scar Tissue

S3 Scully contemplates her and Mulder's scars.

Wagers

Mulder is mortified over Skinner's personal inquiry of his 'relationship.' Scully is mortified the FBI bet is in the thousands.

adamstanheight's hindsight is twenty-twenty

Monday Skinner is dry-mouthed and horrified as his two agents blow up in the bank, the guilt over his actions in S. R. 819 coming home to roost.

@i-turn-to-stare/iturntostare's An Early Morning, Late Start

Pre-Je Souhaite Mulder and Scully are late to the office that morning, but the only person who seems to mind is an increasingly panicked Kim Cook.

soulgyrl's

The Need To Know or Mulder's Dilemma

Post Three Words Mulder drops in to TLGs, trying to probe them for information; and after a mild conversations, he knows.

Mother Never Told me There'd Be Days Like This

AU-- Pre-Essence Mulder and Scully are on an undercover mission in Target, fruitlessly trying to corral a perpetrator with Doggett and Monica in a comedy of errors. Mulder ends up dragging Scully, and they both just settle for a night in with popcorn.

ophelia_interrupted's (Ao3) Consortium Downsizing (Ao3)

Crack-- The Consortium hate their accountant but still need him to balance their budget. They're completely broke, though, so they force the US to buy cookies.

@ladymegg/LadyMeg's

A Sprinkle of Stardust/Remembered Promises

Mulder and Scully are scared to death in a haunted house; but end their night with a date set.

Realised Desires (Part 2 of Remembered Promises)

Mulder finally swipes Scully's planner and schedules in their date for that evening-- for a breaking and entering... or not.

Leaving the Years Behind

Scully has whined many a time through the years, and Mulder has quietly hustled after her, teasing and doting with lunches and nap times.

piece_of_the_stars's snow day

Mulder and Scully are up late-early, calling each other and reminiscing over Samantha and her snowman Kevin. Mulder offers to introduce Kev to Scully the next day.

missing piece

TINH Scully always thought she'd find Mulder alive or die first-- now she can no longer live in denial and must be ripped open.

liveonthesun's Now She Has No Choice

S8 ISTJ understands Mulder's goldfish while dreaming of him and processing her anger at his absence.

CaptainLyssa's

Mrs. Spooky Mulder - CaptainLyssa - The X-Files [Archive of Our Own]

Scully is fuming-- a conference full of agents are convinced she and Mulder are dating, and his antics do not help at all. Finally, she just lets them say whatever they want; but her vomiting from a stress headache do not help matters. (I end ~Chapter 5... dunno why.)

Casper, Wyoming. - CaptainLyssa - The X-Files [Archive of Our Own]

Post IWTB Mulder moves he and Scully to Casper, Wyoming; and she is furious when she realizes Will lives here as well. He didn't know, all is forgiven, and they end up adopting their own son at last.

Shopping - CaptainLyssa - The X-Files [Archive of Our Own]

AU Psychic Family-- Scully and her children are observed by a stranger, who can't quite puzzle how her whole family seem to be psychic... but that's ridiculous, isn't it?

Eating Out - CaptainLyssa - The X-Files [Archive of Our Own]

AU Psychic Family-- Mulder, Scully, and their precocious children are trying to retain a shred of normalcy while having a nice family outing.

simpletumbleweedfarmer's As Long As You're Right Here - simpletumbleweedfarmer - The X-Files [Archive of Our Own]

Requiem Scully as a dream that Mulder had been taken, and cries it out in his motel room. It's, of course, realized soon after.

todaymyheartleapt's Swiss Omega - todaymyheartleapt - The X-Files [Archive of Our Own]

Pre-Vienen Scully wore Mulder's watch while he was gone.

sisterspooky's The Artist Currently Known As Fox Mulder - sisterspooky (Livylovestabler) - The X-Files [Archive of Our Own]

Revival Mulder is happy that he and Scully are in sync, singing a song until she catches on and strikes a deal.

@suitablyaggrieved/ScullyLovesQueequeg's

Day 17 - This Is Going To Hurt - ScullyLovesQueequeg - The X-Files [Archive of Our Own]

Mulder is shot on the job; but he convinces his superiors-- and Scully-- to let him go back and continue to talk down the suspect.

Something's Gotta Give - ScullyLovesQueequeg - The X-Files [Archive of Our Own]

Scully is swamped with Valentine's Day chocolates. Mulder descends into jealousy, stealing her candy here and there.

7. You’ve gone to the bathroom fifty times today.... - Post Tenebras Lux (tumblr.com) Ao3 Day 2 - You've Gone to The Bathroom 50 Times Today - Chapter 1 - ScullyLovesQueequeg - The X-Files [Archive of Our Own]

Post Never Again Mulder can't help but notice that Scully keeps running off to the bathroom, finally following her in and carefully asking her questions. Scully negates his suspicions, telling him her own.

Funeral For A Friend - ScullyLovesQueequeg - The X-Files [Archive of Our Own]

AU-- Gethsemane Mulder died. Scully attended his funeral.

The Reticulan Roadhouse - ScullyLovesQueequeg - The X-Files [Archive of Our Own]

Post Dreamland II Mulder and Scully eat at the Reticulan Roadhouse, neither of them acknowledging its date-ness even when Mulder gifts his partner a pair of beautiful earrings.

Avoidable Feast - ScullyLovesQueequeg - The X-Files [Archive of Our Own]

Mulder and Scully are dating, and the two's lack of communication almost costs them the first Thanksgiving they wanted to celebrate together.

Day 20 - There's Nothing Wrong With You - ScullyLovesQueequeg - The X-Files [Archive of Our Own]

Scully is surprised that, while melodramatic, Mulder is actually sick; and lures her boyfriend over with a clean house.

Holiday Apologies - ScullyLovesQueequeg - The X-Files [Archive of Our Own]

Post IWTB Mulder slowly readjusts to family holidays, visibly slipping into depression. Bill observes him; and buries the hatchet.

thespookyvariation's Letters - Chapter 1 - thespookyvariation - The X-Files [Archive of Our Own]

Post S9 Mulder and Scully read the letters each other had written during their darkest days-- his loss during her abduction and her fear during her cancer.

Enjoy!

82 notes · View notes

wherethefireliliesgrow · 1 year

Text

(1) 1825 days: colorblind

Myoui Mina x reader

Part of the series: Palette

Five years. Precisely 1,826 days. That is the exact timeframe for a Wayward to discover their destined soulmate before the connection breaks off, leaving the Wayward hollow and withering into nothingness.

The human race has been divided into Waywards and Itinerants, although nobody knows why or when this phenomenon began. It is possible that Aphrodite herself is angered at how humans are ruining her imprint of love on the world, or perhaps the fates are taking revenge on the red strings of fate that we burned down due to infidelity after they spent lifetimes sewing and finding the right connection for us.

All we know is that certain individuals have numbers tattooed onto their right-hand wrist as soon as they turn 20, which change every day at midnight with a blistering, painful sensation on their skin. These are the unfortunate ones that we call Waywards. They have to locate their soulmates and establish their connection before the numbers on their wrists run out, or their soul will slowly die without the other half, like a flower without water, wilting slowly as pieces of their memories fall and fade, leaving them an empty shell of the person they once were. A five percent chance of other symptoms might appear, such as losing the sense of smell, or a sense that can single out their soulmate and make it easier for Waywards to locate them.

As cruel as the fates may seem, they did not leave the Waywards completely helpless. With a built-in magnet in their hearts, Waywards can sense where their soulmate is up to within a kilometer distance. However, it is earning the connection establishment decision of their soulmates that is challenging, or in other words, winning over their love.

The other half of the population, the ones who are sought by their Waywards, are called Itinerants. They are the lucky ones, not needing to endure the pain or sense of longing in their hearts as soon as they reach their twenties. Instead, a small, half-finished tattoo representing what means the most to their Wayward would appear on their wrists, slowly changing until the Wayward's five-year time frame ends. The Itinerants cannot sense their Waywards until coming into contact with them, skin-to-skin. As soon as skin contact is initiated, the second half of the Itinerants’ tattoos will automatically finish. Itinerants have no emotional ties to their Waywards, just a good first impression at most. The Itinerants can decide whether to accept the soulmate establishment, giving them the power to decide their fate, whether it is to live happily ever after with their Waywards or choose their own path in love by rejecting them, hence their name of the Itinerant.

1825 days.

You knew you were doomed the moment your skin started to blister at 11:59 p.m. on the day before your 20th birthday.

“Wayward,” your best friend since preschool, Ryujin, whispered in pity as she cradled your hand in hers, watching as the countdown tattoo slowly burned and appeared on your wrists.

“Yeah, I kinda expected this to happen,” you murmured, staring at the cloudy night sky from the rooftop of Ryujin’s house.

The color in your eyesight was beginning to fade, making the night sky look even grayer. It seems that you were also cursed with additional wayward attributes. Your two sisters were already blessed with the fate of being Itinerants, and the chances of it happening the third time in a family were nearly non-existent.

“Do you sense them?” Ryujin asked, wrapping her thin arm around your shoulders, hoping to provide some kind of comfort.

“Yeah, they’re not here,” you said.

Ryujin looked at you in shock. “What do you mean? Not in our town, or not in the same state?”

“Not in our country. They're back in our home country,” you replied.

It was not unheard of for soulmate connections to happen between people in different regions. However, the reason for the gods creating the connection was to ensure long-lasting love that covered the land instead of punishing innocent Waywards for humanity’s past sins.

To lighten the mood, Ryujin nudged your shoulder playfully. “So, does this mean you’ll finally go back with me to South Korea to see my Got7 oppas?”

“I thought you were gay,” you laughed.

“Can’t be sure. My Wayward hasn't found me yet. Might be an extremely hot oppa looking for me right now,” Ryujin said with a smile, touching the small pink teddy bear tattoo on her pale wrist.

You snorted. “I haven’t seen many oppas liking pink teddy bears, but to each their own.”

“Oh, shut up. I hope you end up with an old man,” Ryujin teased.

“I probably won’t get to find out,” you shrugged.

“What do you mean? You’re not going to look for them?” Ryujin squinted her eyes and pursed her lips in confusion, making her look like a brunette Mr. Bean.

“Yeah, I don’t like the idea of having to convince someone to love me back just because the tattoos on our wrists say so. It is not in the stars to hold our destiny but in ourselves. I don’t want to give them that power to decide whether I am worth loving,” you ranted, standing up and pacing in front of Ryujin.

“Also, I feel that it’s unfair for the Itinerants. You guys don’t feel anything, and all of a sudden, a random person shows up and pressures you into confirming the soulmate connection, or else they’ll fade away. This soulmate thing is not a blessing, just a damn curse that ruins both sides, killing off one side and letting the other wallow in guilt for the rest of their lives in the other,” you continued.

Ryujin smiled softly in amusement after hearing your rant. She loved you for your empathy for others, but she was done with your stupid heroism ideas. She just wanted you to think of yourself for once but had long given up on convincing you.

“Whatever. You don’t have to look for your soulmate. I just want you there for me when I audition,” Ryujin said, standing up and punching your arm.

“And soulmate or not, I think you are extremely worth loving. So if your soulmate rejects you, I’ll be kicking their ass for killing off my best friend.”

Next Chapter

88 notes · View notes

ultimateshixiongfuckertournament · 3 months

Text

Noncanonicals Tournament Round 2, Match 2

Match 2 is between Xie Lu / T from Memory Lost (shizun/mentor: Xu Sibai / S) and Chen Pi Ah Si from DMBJ / The Mystic Nine (shizun/mentor: Er Yuehong)

Propaganda under the cut! (Warning: Propaganda may include spoilers about the characters and their media)

Xie Lu / T:

Xie Lu, codename T, is a member of the Alphabet Syndicate, and leader S's personal project. From a young age, Xie Lu displayed an uncanny aptitude for sharp-shooting. When his dream of going to a specialized school for training, and ultimately competing in the Olympics, was destroyed by his own father, Xie Lu left home, living off the land in the mountains. It was here, when he was fifteen, that he was approached by S, promising to train him in the art of killing, honing his already-excellent skills with a gun into something perfect.

//From fifteen to twenty-three years old, T followed him for eight years.

But he only stayed by his side for the first three years.// (Memory Lost novel, T's Story)

//After the case, the man whom T viewed as an older brother and a God-like figure, disbanded the organization and disappeared.

Everybody including T who were still alive started living their own lives.

“I’m sorry, T,” that man said, “I promised you five years, but I only led you three years.”

But T smiled, “I will always follow your orders in my lifetime.”

That man nodded and didn’t look at him again. He stared at the setting sun that was like a blazing fire. // (Memory Lost novel, T's Story)

In the aftermath of the police raid on the syndicate's base, T was the one who carried S out of the ruins, and cared for him, standing up to the others in defense of S' wishes.

//"S's order was to send Su Mian to Jiangcheng to replace Bai Jinxi's identity after he and Su Mian were in a coma." R said, "And S has always had a cover-up, Xu Sibai, a forensic doctor. These years, S has also completed his studies in forensic medicine. Let him return to this status, a year later, he will be transferred to Jiangcheng. Then everything will start again."

Xu Nanbai smiled suddenly: "For the mentally ill, this is really a deathly romantic decision."

"We still have a choice." L raised his head and looked at everyone, "If S will also lose his memory, let them be with us and we can say that they are a pair. Then, S can fulfill his wish and he can be with her. He can do whatever he wants without much trouble."

As soon as he finished speaking, everyone calmed down. This approach violates the previous arrangement of S, but they are all predators, and this approach naturally suits them better.

"I object." T said, “This is not the idea of S.”

"Vote." R said.

There were results soon.

For L’s proposal, only T and Xu Nanbai opposed it. The reason for T’s objection is that S’wish must be respected; and Xu Nanbai's objection is because he thinks it is better to kill Su Mian.// (Memory Lost Prequel, Part 16)

//It was early in the morning one month later, everyone found that S and Su Mian were gone.

The hospital bed in the hut was empty. T and his gun disappeared together.

"Fuck!" L cursed lowly and sharp-eyed,he picked up a piece of letterhead left on the table, it was T’s handwriting, and there was only one sentence—

"That's not the life S wants."// (Memory Lost Prequel, Part 17)

While T kept up working as a hitman in S' absence, he sent half of his earnings to him to ensure his well-being, and occasionally checked in on Xu Sibai in his new life. It is also canon that he fell into a deep depression for some time after being parted from S and the rest of the syndicate.

#t all the way!!!#murder kitty was down so bad for dr warcrimes

Chen Pi Ah Si:

Listen. We know canonically Chen Pi is unhinged over his shifu's wife, but he's just as unhinged and Normal(tm) about Er Ye as he is about Ya Tou. He ripped a dude's face off for saying that Chen Pi might overtake Er Ye one day. He is the yandere flavour of a shizunfucker and you know it, and they deserve representation in this tournament as well

#xie lu #t #chen pi ah si #chen pi #memory lost #dmbj #the mystic nine #xu sibai #s #er yuehong

13 notes · View notes

cosmicspacewidow · 7 months

Text

Finding a Home

AN: This is the first story I've written in years but a friend of mine convinced me to come back to Tumblr so I thought I could share it here. I've spent years reading fic wonderful fic but most never had a character I could identify with in the fandoms I enjoyed so I made this. This is a made-up story with real-life events weaved in.

Pairing: Scarlett Johannason/ Elizabeth Olsen

Word Count: 5,105

Chapter: 1/?? (32 chapters posted on AO3)

Chapter Trigger/Content Warnings: Mention of Abuse, Violence, Non-Sexual Age Regression, and Bullying.

Summary: After landing the role of a lifetime In the film Black Widow 2, Cade Jones goes to LA where he meets Scarlett Johansson and Elizabeth Olsen. During the summer they film the movie and Cade plays Scarlett's son but over time it's not acting anymore and Scarlett and Lizzie find the missing piece of their family, but not without a lot of bumps along the road. This story is set in a real world with real people mixed in with the MCU movies alternate universe that is also set in an omegaverse, so Alpha Beta and Omega dynamic as well as non-sexual age regression, abuse, and violence. This is a bad summery just give it a read if you want.

ENJOY!

Chapter 1: A New World Beckons

In the ancient times of our ancestral wolf packs were the dominant species. Packs, Everton, Sereno, Trevino, Whitlock, and Villarreal were the five foundational packs from which all wolves trace their lineage. These packs were considered as the true Adam and Eves of the world.

Within the wolf , there existed a select group known as the Prime Wolves. The original Primes being half breds of a wolf and human, these individuals were the largest, strongest, and most highly regarded members of the wolf society. When in their wolf form, Prime Wolves experienced heightened senses, granting them acute perception, heightened awareness, and incredible speed. They were the epitome of physical strength and agility, surpassing even the capabilities of regular wolves and their fellow Primes.

The Primes possessed the remarkable ability to shift freely between their wolf and the other dominant race the human form, exhibiting complete control over their shifting abilities. They were revered as the highest echelon of wolf society.

Among the Prime Wolves, one individual stood out with great renown: Gabriela Villarreal. As a true Prime, akin to the original five, Gabriela possessed even more extraordinary abilities. In addition to the heightened senses of a wolf and the enhanced physical prowess of a Prime Wolf, Gabriela possessed a unique healing ability. With her saliva, she had the power to mend any wound, making her an invaluable healer within her pack and the wider wolf society.

However, as time passed and evolution took its course, the ability to shift and control one's wolf form gradually became dormant in the human form of most wolves. Though the primal connection remains, the majority of wolves nowadays are unable to access their shifting abilities, resembling a mere fraction of the once-powerful Primes.

In this wolf society, a social hierarchy is structured based on status. At the age of 16, individuals undergo testing to determine their place within the hierarchy. The three main statuses are Alpha, Beta, and Omega, which define an individual's rank and role within the pack. Additionally, there are umbrella categories that specify an individual's personality traits and inclinations, such as Dominants, Submissive's, Neutrals, Switches, Caregivers, and Littles.

The lore of the ancestral wolf packs and the legendary Primes adds depth to the understanding of the wolf world. It reveals the extraordinary origins of the wolves and their connection to the primal energy that still resides within them. While the ability to shift and control the wolf form has diminished over time, the legacy of the wolf culture lives on, inspiring curiosity and controversy among those who still have the ability to shift.

Sunday MAY 28th Cade’s POV

I was completely filled to the brim with stress and anxiety today and that was to say a lot since the last month of my life had been so crazy anxiety should be my middle name. In fact, I didn't even know if I had a middle name. The only name I knew was Cadence Jones. I preferred Cade though, no one ever mentioned if I had a middle name. When I was old enough to realize that I was different from other kids I was probably 4. That's when I was first told my parents left me at a random fire station not too long after I was born, just a small pup left on my own, not that I really understood what that really meant at a young age.

I was 5 when my first foster parents took me back to the group home saying something was wrong with me. I was too shy, scared, and stupid to learn anything or even talk. I had said my first word yet and I spent more time crying than anything else. They were looking for a kid that would fit into their alpha pack dynamic better than me. However, that wasn’t the case, at the time I was already reading and writing at an advanced grade level and probably one of the brightest kids in my class. I just couldn’t seem to vocalize anything yet and I was a bit more timid than the other kids my age.

When I was 6 I was adopted by a family that surrendered me back to the care of the state after only a year. That was around the time I really started to express myself and start speaking but barely and instead of wanting to be dressed in dresses and skirts I wanted to wear what my adopted brother was wearing at the time. Shorts, t-shirts, and comfortable clothes so I could go out and play like him. It got to the point I would scream, fight, and cry for hours on end if I put in something I didn't like.

So in turn I was labeled as a temperamental child, crazy even having meltdowns constantly. I typically scared off anyone who showed interest in fostering or adopting me while I was still young. Most couples didn't want to deal with all my issues and were looking for an easy kid to start out with.

I was later diagnosed with a speech impediment, autism, a sensory disorder, anxiety, and selective mutism, as a child and you can’t process these things very well. It becomes hard to function without specialized care and being raised in foster homes as a kid you never really got that.

After about two years living in a group home, I was staying with a nice family in Reno. They openly accepted me and all my perceived issues weren't issues for them and I was slowly becoming part of their pack.

They had even taught me sign language so I could communicate better with others when I wasn't able to speak and put me into speech therapy to help me develop my communication skills and fix my speech impediment. I had the most trouble with R’s,W’s,S’s and still do to this day.

I lived with them from the age 8-14 the longest I had ever stayed with one family. It was great I had made friends and really enjoyed life. Like every other kid my age this was when we all started going through the early stage of puberty and finding out who we were. This is when you typically start to see alpha, omega, or beta traits start to present. I however never showed clear signs.

It wasn't until I was about 11 when I really became self aware and realized to everyone else I was a girl, but I had honestly thought I was a boy until another boy asked me why I acted like a boy if I was a girl. I didn't answer, just ran away but then I knew I was different from others. After that I consciously began identifying outward as a male more, basically as much as I could, but this caused a lot of kids to start picking on me at school. There weren't a lot of transgender kids running around so I stood out from other kids.

My best friend, Preston James Striker the 4th, but most people just called him Striker growing up. He was always hitting stuff when he was little and when he got older he started fighting a lot and was a good one at that. Striker was my true savior most of the time, he would instantly shut down the bullies that tormented me and his family's pack unofficially took in and accepted me as their own. I spent more time with them than with my foster family. Striker’s dad, Preston James Striker the 3rd, owned a fighting and free-running gym called Strike Force Gym, so over those six years I spent most of my time in the gym learning how to defend myself.

They taught multiple fighting styles, having instructors from all over the world teaching their specialized crafts. I liked the styles of martial arts, taekwondo, and jiu jitsu the most. Preston always said I was a true boxer at heart with how powerful my punches actually are and how quick my reflexes were for a kid my size. I was constantly hyper aware of everything all the time so it came easy for me to be extremely instinctive and reactive in a fight.

I was especially good at free-running as whenever I was running and jumping around the gym or out in the city I felt the most relaxed and free from everything else in life. Even though I got quite good at fighting I never seemed to be able to use the skills outside the gym whenever my bullies decided to torment me next.

The foster placement I was with at the time didn't like all the ‘trouble’ I was causing whenever I would get into it with my bullies. Half the time they would do something bad and frame me for it. Then there was the one fight I got into when it couldn't be avoided and that got some police attention.

Around this time my foster mother was diagnosed with cancer and my foster father struggled with taking care of his sick wife and a preteen with special needs that was getting into trouble with the law and his older son who was away at college but struggling. So eventually he sat me down and explained that my social worker Melinda Gordon was going to be picking me up at the end of the week and I would be leaving and being placed with another couple.

I was 14 when I was placed into the care of The Davis’s. I've been staying with Kenneth and Joyce Davis for two years now. It was better than a group home because it was just the three of us but most of the time I was forgotten or pushed aside by the couple at the beginning.

They were mostly in it for the check the government sent and Joyce loved to parade me around like some kind of charity case for all her friends to see. She once told me I was sent to them by god so they could fix me so I could once again be a healthy and natural child of god.

The Davis are what they’d like to call Holy Folk. They were heavily involved in the community as Kenneth was a generational police officer and Joyce worked at the church and community center. I'm pretty sure they met in church when they were young and their parents arranged their marriage and lives from that moment on. Everyone loved them around the small town they lived in here in Idaho and thought they were just the best people on the Earth. In reality the second I was deemed out of line and nobody else was around the couple's sweet heavenly nature could turn in an instant.

They thought that the devil was inside of me and made me act this way and that they were god disciples reborn to cleanse my soul. I had major sensory issues, an anxiety disorder paired with selective mutism all on top of being a transgender child so naturally they thought I was possessed. They really had no education or awareness of any kind of how to properly care for an autistic child.

I remember my first Christmas with them. Their whole family pack was there and the loud party was in full swing when Kenneth’s mothers gave me a gift she made. She had knit me a wool sweater but upon putting it on it made my skin feel like it was on fire and I had immediately gotten pushed over the edge and into sensory overload and had a panic attack running to my room for the rest of the night. That night after everyone had left Kenneth had beaten me with the brand new belt he’d had gotten from one of his brothers. I had prayed to God that night before bed that it was the first and last time that would happen, unfortunate it was only the beginning.

It has only gotten worse for me in these last 5 months. When I turned 16 just like everyone else Joyce and Kennth took me in to get a status test. By then your traits should've already been presenting but this was the way to get the official status when your brain was developed enough.

Not everyone got tested right away as it was your free choice but most people do it. The human race was all originally evolved from the wolf so we all fell in the the dynamics of Alpha, Omega, and Beta and then you could fall under any of these six categories; Dominant, Submissive, Neutrals, Switch, Caregivers, and Littles. Sometimes people would have multiple classifications but mostly one prominent one that would stand above the rest. Now a days most people didn’t have the ability to shift like our ancestors did as it was a lost skill as modern civilization took over 100s over years ago. However there was a select few people that had pure enough wolf blood where they could shift. These wolfs were called Primes.

Kenneth was a Dominant Alpha and thought that any other status was basically unholy trash unless you were a married submissive Omega like Joyce was. When I took the test whether I was an Alpha, Omega, or Beta came out inconclusive and this made Kenneth pissed. Not only did I have an anxiety disorder and could barely speak but I was inconclusive basically a status in itself. One Kenneth hated and he never let me forget it.

It didn't happen often but there was about 15% of the world population that go a inconclusive status result so i wasn't the only one out there and most people that were inclusive later tested again in life and got a different result. That however didn't matter to the Davis as they were part of a proud pack that never had an inconclusive among them, so it was a big embarrassment for them.

It got to the point where I never really got a chance to be myself without the fear of getting beaten for it. There was really no expressing myself at all except for the perfect Cadence they wanted to see. I wasn’t allowed to join any training gyms because fighting wasn’t ladylike.

Skateboarding was another hobby I’d picked up but I wasn't allowed to do that either as it was a boys sport. I really only went to school, then headed to the community center where I’d help Joyce at her job, and then go back home after that. I had to be a good quiet girl that obeyed adults no matter what and if I did, then I just might be able to go to heaven and not suffer in hell for eternity.

I shook my head focusing back on the present situation at hand. I was currently on the train to LA. I had ended up in a car all to myself for the ride which was a lifesaver so I could panic in peace. It was a little longer than a two day train ride from Idaho to Los Angeles, but it was cheaper than the $469 plane tickets it would’ve been. I could barely afford the $211 train tickets, using all the money I had saved over the years. Whenever I did sn odd jobs for Joyce at the community center the Lady’s there would always hand me some money secretly without Joyce ever noticing, sometimes I wondered if they knew what was happening behind the facade Joyce and Kenneth put up. I never got that answer though.

As I sat and looked out the window I thought about the last month. Striker had sent me a casting call his dad had shown him. Marvel Studios had put out a call for a young man or woman between the age 13-19 who had skills in combat style fighting, gymnastics, and, or dancing. It was a completely open casting call for anyone to submit to either in person in LA or submit a tape online.

After Striker’s non stop badgering over text and calls I submitted an audition and sent in a video of me, Striker and some of the other guys at the gym free-running from back when I lived with them and a new sample of myself now free-running. After sending in the audition and not too long after I had gotten a call asking if I could do a couple more callback auditions over zoom. Then I was told I got the part. That’s when I found out I was going to be playing Anton Romanov, the son of the Black Widow Natasha Romanov and a mutant that Dreykov kidnapped for his powers. They told me that I needed to be in LA the next week.

That was today, there was going to be a dinner tonight for the cast, as a way to get together and all meet each other officially before filming started the following week.

The train came to a stop at union station in Los Angeles i heard over the speaker so I grabbed my duffle bag containing basically everything I owned, which wasn��t much just clothes, books, and my skateboard, a gift from Striker he secretly sent me when I turned 15 last year and I got off the train. It was 3pm and dinner wasn’t until 8pm. I checked my phone and saw that the restaurant we were supposed to meet at was in Hollywood that was about an hour or two away from here on my board. I pulled my wired headphones out of my bag, placing each bud in my ear and pulled the duffel bag over my shoulder pulling the straps tight to my body before heading off. As I was skating I called Striker.

“Brother! What’s up?” He said over the phone I could hear him clicking away at his playstation controller. Striker was a huge video game guy, he had collected probably every game console he possibly could.

“Hey Striker. I made it to LA.” I told him as I cruised down the city streets.

“Awesome! I'm jealous my parents would never let me go to LA all by myself.” He confessed as he paused his video game.

“Come on, you know Joyce and Kenneth have no idea I'm here. You're the one who made the fake website, what did you name it? Faithful Haven Camp and Retreat for Troubled Teens?” I told him with a laugh. Striker was probably one of the only people to see the true me and he felt like the safest person i had ever met. He was definitely the only person I could talk to without issue but he still respected the time I wasn't verbal and never pushed me to talk.

“Oh right? You're welcome by the way. So how is it? Have you seen anyone famous yet?” he asked.

“No, I've just only got here. Plus it's not like they're just running around everywhere. I'd assume they do their best to hide from the public.”

“Fair, you got me there. Just promise me when you meet all these famous marvel actors you get me every single one of their signatures for me okay?”

“We’ll see about that.” I told him Striker was just as much of a marvel fan as I was but he was just a lot more excitable about it.

“Preston James Striker. YOU better not be playing video games up there when I know you have homework.” I heard Striker's Mom yell, Charlotte Striker was a very sweet woman and one of the only people I could hear yell and not have it scare me because I knew she really meant no harm whatsoever.

“MOOOM, i'm on the phone with Cade and we haven't talked in weeks.” I rolled my eyes as he called out back, using me as an excuse to get him out of trouble as always.

“Tell him we say hi and bye. He might be on summer vacation but he didn't fail algebra 1 and has summer school to do.” I heard her say back and I chuckled. Striker groaned.

“Mrs. Harris, definitely had it out for me cause I'm great at math bro.” he told me and I laughed again.

“Well maybe if you paid attention in class I'd believe that.” When I went to school with Striker he could never sit still in class.

He was incredibly smart and we both were in a couple advanced classes together but everything bored him with school where I loved to learn new things and take on new information. I had an amazing memory where if I saw something or heard it long enough I could easily mimic or copy it. It was like I didn't have a speech impediment at all when I was consciously trying not to but when I talked naturally it always came back. I think this was the only reason I was able to act because it was easy to memorize the lines and become a different person than myself.

“Hey! you are supposed to be on my side, I'm hanging up now.” He said

“ Okay you're right she did sound like a bitch, is that what you want to hear?” I joked with him.

“Yess thank you my friend. Now I should go before my mom comes up here and she's me playing video games.” he told me.

“Okay i'll text you later. Bye.” Striker said goodbye and I heard the click of the phone call ending and my music started playing as I continued skating.

I was told that marvel would be putting me up in special accommodations or at least that was what it said in my contract. I figured that tonight someone would be able to show me where to go. So I just decided to head to the restaurant and hang out in that area until dinner.

After two hours I made it to Hollywood and was just hanging at a skatepark nearby to kill time. When I got there the bowl was empty so I headed in for a session.

I was really just messing around doing hand plants on the rims of the bowl or just throwing tricks as I skated around. As I came up over the edge for another hand plant, just as I’m upside down I see a blur and feel something collide with my board and I’m being knocked off course and falling into the bowl.

As I came crashing down I heard I chorus of laughter gasp and oohs. Not realizing that I had an audience as my body smacks the concrete hard and for a second all the wind is knocked out of me. An immediate pain in my left side radiates through my body and I groan. Taking a second to get my bearings, I see mine and another skateboard rolling around and there are a couple people on the edge of the bowl looking down at me.

“Hey, can you pass me my board?!” A shaggy blonde haired guy yelled down at me and started laughing at me with a couple others. I stood up and moved over to the boards. I threw the other board up and over the edge and then did the same with mine before running up the side of the bowl and hopping out. I stumbled a bit because of the pain in my side but got my balance quickly after.

“Sorry about that, it just slipped out of my hand?” I heard the blonde guy's voice say behind me and I turned to see him looking at me with a smirk. He didn’t seem very sorry and the way the board hit mine it had a lot more force than something that slipped.

Not saying anything I just was going to grab my stuff and leave. I knew how this worked. I've moved around enough to know that every once in a while there was always some territorial guy whether it was school, sports, or the skatepark that didn’t like the new kids coming in and messing with their system so I wasn’t even gonna fight him.

“Hey are you deaf or something?” He yelled in a dominating alpha voice causing my body to tense and freeze for a second. Him and his delinquent friends snickered and I rolled my eyes and continued on. Since i was inconclusive if any alpha used their Alpha voice it sometimes could affect me like it would an omega or submissive and It wasn't the first time I’d heard that one. I continued to ignore him and pick up my bag until I felt hands grab my arm and pull me back and around. I was quick to pull my arm out of the grasp but I soon realized I was face to face with the blonde and he was shoving me down to the ground.

“Well? are you deaf or just fucking dumb?” he said, towering over me pushing threatening pheromones out into the air. I quickly got back up and stood back trying to get out of his space but he followed my steps. I got into the side pocket of my bag and pulled out a laminated card I always have on hand trying to defuse the situation.

"It read: Hi I’m Cade I have an anxiety disorder called selective mutism. I am unable to speak in certain social situations. This is not a choice, it's an involuntary response, I’m not being rude."

I showed it to him and him and his buddies to read.

“ Okay, so just dumb. Either way I’ll make it simple for you. THIS. IS. MY. PARK. YOU. LEAVE.” He said to me slowing himself down like I couldn’t understand him. I rolled my eyes and just walked off. That's literally what I was trying to do.

“Dick.” I thought to myself as I was starting to calm down a bit. I hadn’t realized my heart was racing until I walked away and could hear my heart beat pounding in my ears. I found a bench on a random corner and sat down for a bit to calm down.

Once I was calm I noticed I still had some time to kill so I just mindlessly skated the city streets. It was one of my other favorite escapes, cruising down the streets weaving around traffic always calmed my mind just like free-running. LA was different from back in Idaho, the streets were busier and the drivers were a bit more erratic so I stuck to the sidewalks mostly but even the pedestrians didn't like me on the sidewalks. It wasn’t until I had to make a sudden stop for a car that was running a red light nearly running me over did I realize how late it had gotten.

It was 7:48pm and I was probably 30 minutes away from the restaurant now so I quickly headed that direction. I made it to the restaurant and it was 8:23 pm meaning I was late. My anxiety spiked but I tried not to think about it but as I looked at the fancy building across the street I thought I might be way in over my head. I quickly ducked down into an alleyway and dug through my bag looking for something better to wear then the now dirty plaid shirt and now ripped jeans from my fall I had on. I switched it for a navy blue long sleeve sweater and a pair of black pants.

I groaned a bit as I changed seeing that my left side was starting to bruise from the fall and the pain radiating from that side slowed me down but I tried to go as fast as possible. Once I changed I made my way up to the front and entered the restaurant.

I stood by the door for a second and scanned the room for any familiar faces but I didn't see any.

“Hi there, can I help you?” The woman at the host desk noticed me and I headed toward her pulling out the same card as I did before. I had practiced this sentence many times in my head. I learned that if I could memorize whatever I needed to say it was easier to say it but I knew it was going to be a struggle to speak tonight with all the anxiety coursing through me.

“H-hi i’m here to-o me...” I started to say but gave up and put the card infront of her. As she read the card I opened my voice to speech app and typed out something for her.

“I'm here to meet a group for dinner. I'm late but it was supposed to be a private dinner under the name Kevin Feige.” the voice said for me and the woman smiled.

“Oh yes! I was told to expect you. The rest of your party is already here so I’ll take you on up.” She said and I followed her up a staircase away from where the regular customers were dining and upstairs to a loft where they held their private parties and events.

“You can leave that here if you like.” She said to me as we got to the top of the stairs and there was a coat check station on the side before entering into the private dining room. I passed my bag and board over to the guy at the counter and he gave me a small piece of paper with a number on it for when I was done. I could hear talking and laughter on the other side of the door and my anxiety grew, doubling in size inside my chest.

The host led me into the dining room and like that the room quieted down and everyone turned to look at us, she quickly exited the room leaving me standing there, unsure of what to do.

#wandanat #scarlett johansson #elizabeth olsen #ao3 fanfic #natasha romanov #wanda maximoff #orignal character #transgendercharacter #POC #Marvel #black widow #mcu #alternate universe #age regression #omegaverse #wandanat's son #fluff #wandanat fanfiction

20 notes · View notes

agirlunderarock · 9 months

Text

Sunrises and Fireworks

Summary: Its been five years since Palpatine was outed for playing both sides of the Galactic Civil War, but getting out of bed is still a losing battle. Treaty week is upon Obi-Wan and his family but not everyone seems eager to celebrate in Theed.

Pairing: Obi-Wan X Sas Vom (OC)

Warnings; Fluff, all fluff no angst, no hurt comfort just straight up fluff and Obi-Wan enjoying life without war and outrageous missions.

Read on Ao3

A/N: This was requested by @heyhawtdawgs who had been asking that 1. I write Obi-Wan happy and no longer angsty and 2. Obi-Wan interact with some Boga babies, but since I can't write just a few hundred words this turned into a nine and half page One shot that took several months to write. Its fine its totally fine. Divider used is by @saradika As always I hope you enjoy reading!

The first thing Obi-Wan was aware of was the warmth washing over his face, and flooding his eye lids with the glow of mid morning light. Keeping his eyes closed he rolled over and reached for Sas to bury his face in the crook of her neck. However, where he had thought to find the soft sleeping form of his wife, Obi-Wan's hand spread over a cool and empty bedside. He blinked his eyes open confirming again that his bedside was empty. He felt his chest tighten as his mind very quickly came up with the worst possible scenarios. Each thought grew more intense than the last. He clutched the sheets trying to force the thought away that he'd open his eyes to find himself alone on some desolate backwater planet.

“Oops too hot-” a woman's voice exclaimed from another room.

The war ended five years ago and yet it still had a tight grip on his psyche. He supposed that was something that would never really go away. He would feel the effects as time marched on. That of course went without saying, he had enough physical markers from the war littered over his body. He had a lifetime to think about that though, and he would prefer to focus on the sounds drifting through the house and the open door to the bedroom.

Rolling over onto his back, Obi-Wan looked up at the ceiling of his bedroom and took a few deep breaths to still his mind and calm his racing heart. He just needed a minute to ground himself in this moment, to remind himself that the war was over, his fight was done, they won. He had chosen to live the rest of his life for himself, or at least as much of himself as he could imagine without feeling selfish. He folded his hands on his stomach and took another deep breath as he focused on the sizzling sounds from the kitchen, the warmth of the sunlight streaming in from the window, the light weight of the blanket against his bare torso, and the soft sound of Sas’ humming as she moved around the kitchen.

“Ow kriff!”

That was his cue to get up.

Loud sizzling filled the hallway. Sas must have been rushing in the kitchen again.

Rolling out of bed, Obi-Wan decided that it was time to spoil the surprise Sas had for him. It wouldn’t be the first time and he preferred to spend the morning with her rather than laying around waiting. Being with her every morning was a much better surprise than bringing food into their bedroom.

During the war he didn’t dare to entertain the idea that he could spend his life with the woman he loved, at least not in the way one would normally think of. Sas herself had kept a strict rule of never talking about a future together, not because she didn’t want it, but moreso because neither could imagine a life that didn’t involve one of them, if not both of them, giving their life to the war cause. Yet, by some grace of the Force, the war ended, Sas was no longer fighting to prevent civil war on her planet, there was an active effort to negotiate and find compassion between the systems that were at war. He supposed it helped that one man responsible for playing both sides and was responsible for a good portion of their problems, but still there was room for growth and reflection on the part of the Republic.

This left room for Obi-Wan to focus on other things for the time being. Things that didn’t have to do with the state and well being of the galaxy. He married Sas. She was his wife. Five years passed and the little rush that fluttered in his stomach hadn’t subsided whenever he thought of her as his wife. He was still a Jedi in all ways but title, but he understood why the Jedi had their rules about attachment. He had to choose, and this time he chose a life for himself.

The way Obi-Wan understood things, was that the Force laid two path’s before him. There wasn’t one right or wrong answer, but he had to trust the Force to guide him along both. He had expected the long hours of meditation as he considered the life he would lead going forward. He expected questions and concerns once he had made his final choice. What he hadn’t expected so much compassion upon his leaving. That Sas would encourage him to stay with the Order, that his Jedi family was so understanding of his need to leave and encouraged him to visit and return should he ever need guidance. He didn’t consider himself a person who dwelled too long on the past, or stress too often about the future, but the life he currently led, wasn’t one had ever imagined he would have. He felt at peace with his choices, and there was peace in his heart.

He paused by the doorway to Jinn’s bedroom, the window curtains drawn open to the Naboo countryside painted orange by the rising sun. Obi-Wan watched the little lump still sleeping soundly under a pile of blankets. Again he found himself wondering how five years ago, he, Sas and Anakin had been fighting for their lives in trenches of the Outer Rim Sieges. After all of that, why didn’t he deserve to have this peace in his life? He supposed he wasn’t being completely fair, they volunteered their very lives for a manufactured war, and only just managed to put an end to it before it was too late. Obi-Wan’s children would have the chance to live a quiet life he nor his wife had never known. This absolutely included not having to wake up before the sun rose to meditate. Jinn would get to sleep in a little longer.

“Good morning, My Dear,” Obi-Wan greeted as he came up behind Sas. Before she could turn around he wrapped one arm around her middle, and the other hand gilded slowly over the large swell of her belly. “You’re up early ,” he observed , placing a light kiss against her emerald colored neck as she leaned her head back against his shoulder.

“I had to pee,” she sighed honestly as she placed a hand over his own on her stomach. He slowly rubbed her hand over it, as if to soothe the fussy child giving his wife a hard time. “Our little one was being extra pushy, squishing my bladder, and demanding I be up early. Thought we might surprise you, but I should know better than to try that by now. The good news is I just finished the bacon, so if you distract me, we won’t almost burn the house down.”

“Darling, are you still trying to pin the blame on me?” he teased, pressing a kiss to her jaw. “I cannot help it if you are so easily distracted,” he nuzzled into the crook of her neck and felt her shiver in his hold despite the mild morning.

“I told you, I’m going to have to change your nickname from Pretty Boy to The Arsonist. It’s almost like you want me to burn down our house.”

“Oh no, I just want you,” He said with a kiss to her cheek this time. Without her tattoos painted on, Obi-Wan could have sworn he saw some color rise in her face. Pink patches had yet to appear on her neck or shoulder, but he could see her cheeks turning a slightly deeper green.

"Hmm you can have me, in… hold on, seven months in… two months! Actually four and I'm all yours again."

“Four months?”

“Two months until I can deliver the baby, and then another two months for us, mostly me, to catch up on sleep after” She gestured vaguely with her free hand and closed her eyes with a sigh. “On second thought we’re going to need a lot more than two months. You know I think I slept more during the war.”

“You said you wanted another,” He reminded her with a kiss to her forehead.

“You were supposed to remind me that I didn’t like being pregnant last time. That my back hurt, I hated feeling sick, and I hated waddling back and forth everywhere-”

Obi-Wan chuckled. “I did remind you of all that, and what did you say?”

Sas grew quiet for a moment, reconsidering her life choices. She stopped his slow circles by weaving her fingers with his own and humming to herself. “I said I’d be fine.”

“That is not what you said.”

“Yes it is!”

“In those exact words?

“More or less…” She started, and this time Obi-Wan could see the deep green flush across her cheeks and a little pink patch bloomed where his breath whispered over her neck. “But,” Sas continued, before he could properly remind her of her exact wording, “I knew things would be fine, if you were with me. So long as I didn’t face the diaper wars alone, I thought I would be okay, and I was mostly right.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Obi-Wan asked, a small amused smile playing on his lips. Nuzzling the small pink patch, he found himself pleased with her reaction. He had her flustered already, but that didn’t mean he was about to let up. For as long as they had known each other it still felt rare for her to stumble over her words like she was now.

“It means I was mostly right.” Obi-Wan couldn’t help but roll his eyes, “Then what were you wrong about?”

“That there was nothing in the galaxy that could make me happier in that moment.” She reached one hand back and up to guide his lips to her own.

His eyes slid close as he let himself melt into the kiss. Though brief, he felt her warmth in the Force radiating like the early morning sun rising outside the kitchen window. He was more than happy to bask in her light for the rest of his life. He held her close as she leaned back into him. As he pulled away he placed one last kiss to her forehead, “I love you, Sas,” he breathed against her skin.

“I love you too.”

For a moment Obi-Wan just held his wife, letting her sink into him, and slowly swaying with her. Nothing Obi-Wan could have imagined included a reality where he spent his mornings this way. He just needed a few moments to be present with Sas, to hold on to the lightness he felt in his chest, and be thankful for things working out the way that they had. He took a deep breath.

“We’ve got a long day ahead of us,” Sas murmured, her hand rubbing up his arm.

Obi-Wan just hummed thoughtfully in answer. “Indeed we do, might as well enjoy the quiet while we can.”

"Lots of fireworks, lots of people- And we're only on Naboo, can you imagine Coruscant?"

"I can picture it too clearly. Thankfully Padmé and Anakin are staying in Theed this year, so we don't have to go to Coruscant, like Rex and Fives."

"I didn’t tell you? Pyrrha and Jankari invited us too-" Sas laughed.

Obi-Wan just hid his face in her neck. He loved returning to the temple but not during Treaty Week. Theed was overwhelming enough, since they were always with Padmé and Anakin, but Coruscant was too much. The temple was still his home, but his home was always swarmed with holonet reporters, during this specific week. Part of why he and Sas stayed in the Naboo Lake country was because it was so far away from it all. They would visit the temple after the festivities died down.

That and somehow in the last five years they'd managed to adopt two full grown Veractyl but that was a different matter altogether.

“I was about to say at least there aren’t any statues of you in Theed, but well they're just of a younger you." Obi-Wan felt himself momentarily deflate, and earned a laugh from his wife as consolation. "Lucky for us then, I said that it was their turn to have Coruscant to themselves. We get to blend in the background this time on Theed.” She raised his hand to her lips and kissed his knuckles. “Luke and Leia will be very happy to see you and Jinn- Oh! Can you check on Jinn? He was up helping me earlier, but went back to his room once I started making the bacon. He said he had a nightmare about Boga being scared of the fireworks.”

Obi-Wan blinked a few times trying to process the several shifts in conversation. “I just looked in on him, he was still asleep.”

“Maybe he went back to sleep. He did say he was going to try to have another dream.”

He pursed his lips with a small nod. While Obi-Wan always felt that his son had a connection to the Force, he was also a little wary about his emerging abilities. This was usually why morning meditations weren’t something that they normally skipped. Dreams were rarely just dreams. More often than not, they offered a vision of things that could happen or offered insight to what someone was feeling. Jedi Order or not, both Sas and Obi-Wan felt it was important for their children to learn to connect with the Force.

“I’ll check on him. Boga might not be the only one scared of the fireworks,” he said, before gently squeezing his wife in his arms one last time before going back up the hall to their son’s room.

“Jinn,” Obi-Wan called softly as he entered his son’s room. “Jinn, are you awake?” Even as Obi-Wan sat on the bed, as he had done many times, something felt off. He expected to feel some sort of weight move or shift once he sat down but there was nothing. Obi-Wan reached a hand toward the lump huddled under the blankets. “Mama said you had a dream?”

He reached for Jinn’s shoulder, only for his hand to sink into something soft and plushy. He gave a gentle squeeze expecting his hand to meet some resistance in his son’s shoulder. Instead, the lump gave way under his fingers. He felt his heart rate pick up. Obi-Wan’s brows furrowed as he quickly patted down the rest of the lump, only to be met with the same plushy give. He pulled back the blanket only to find pillows and a stuffed bantha and veractyl lined neatly under the sheets.

"Sas? How long ago did Jinn go back to bed?" He was already jogging back down the hall, his heart threatening to burst in his chest. The line of boots in the doorway was already missing its smallest pair.

"Just a few minutes before you got up, Love- What's wrong?" Sas asked from where she was setting the food on the table. “Obi-Wan?” She called after him.

Obi-Wan was already moving out the door, shirtless and missing his shoes.

There was only one place that Jinn would have gone to.

The veractyl stables.

Jinn’s path down to the barn was still visible in the dew-covered grass. Though a little windy, like he got distracted by something, Obi-Wan could clearly see the end of the trail leading up to the barn doors. Obi-Wan did his best not slip as he sprinted for the door, the chirps and whistles of the veractyls getting louder the closer he got.

Then came his son’s voice crying out over the noise.

“Jinn!” He called as he threw open the doors. His heart pounded wildly in his chest as he quickly scanned the room for his son.

A loud clatter of a beam rang through the barn, followed by the squeals of laughter.

“Dada! Help!” a little voice called.

Before Obi-Wan could find where exactly the voice came from, something rammed into the back of his knee, sending him tumbling toward the ground. Little hands clutched at him only finding grip on the waistband of his pants.

“Hey wait a minute-`” he exclaimed, turning to fend off the little hands from accidentally pulling down his pants only to fall over onto his butt, much the same way Jinn used to when he was learning to walk. Before Obi-Wan could fully process how he ended up on the ground, tiny arms wrapped around his neck in a firm hug, and two small Veractyls, one violet and one green and teal, came charging up to him, their tails swishing excitedly as their bodies wiggled with each step. He put out his hands trying to keep the creatures from jumping on him only to have the arms squeeze him tighter. If he could breathe, he would have been laughing at the little veractyls trying to dodge around his arms. It was as if someone were pulling them on some invisible strings.

“Jinn baby, we don’t hug that way remember,” Sas’ voice called from the doorway.

Immediately the arms loosened their hold, and air rushed into Obi-Wan’s lungs. In that same moment he managed to stop the little creatures by letting them run their heads into the palms of his hands. “Settle down,” he breathed between laughs, but they only scrambled harder on the dirt floor trying to get around his hands, their loud chirps of protest rang out through the barn. With a deep breath and wishing for them to calm down, their wiggles slowed before they settled beside him and nosed their way under his arms.

“Sorry Mama,” Jinn said, as his mother came more into the barn.

“Not to me-”

“Sorry Papa,” Jinn said, moving to stand in front of Obi-Wan and holding out his arms to him, as if asking for a hug this time. His dark hair was standing at unnaturally odd ends, and had straw sticking out of it. The banthas trudging along Jinn’s pajama bottoms looked like they were trying to escape being tucked into his little rubber boots. Clearly the five year old had been prepared to be out in the stable for a while.

“Thank you for apologizing, Jinn,” he answered, hesitantly lifting his arms from creatures at his side before his son crashed into him. “You are forgiven, just be a little careful next time.” He held his son close, one hand cradling the back of his head as he kissed his forehead.

“Or you’ll turn blue?”

Obi-Wan shook his head with a breathy laugh. “Yes, if I’m changing colors then something is wrong. Luckily, that won’t be happening any time soon.”

“Maka is blue,” Jinn stated as he untangled himself from Obi-Wan, sat in his lap and motioned for the small teal veractyl to come closer to him. She chirped happily and curled up between Obi-Wan’s legs.

For a brief moment Obi-Wan held his son and just watched as Jinn gently smooth out the wispy feathers along her head. Maka’s large eyes slowly closed with each pass of his little hand until she had her head in the child’s lap on the verge of sleep. “Ow!” Gia, her sister, nipped her beak sharply at Obi-Wan’s fingers, clearly displeased that she was not getting nearly as much attention. “Alright, girl, I’m sorry,” he sighed using his free hand to gently run his hands over the smooth violet scales along her side. She gave a few sassy chirps before wiggling away and following after Sas as she walked further into the stable.

From her pen, Boga chirped at her little one as if to tell her not to ram into the back of Sas’ legs like she had done to himself. Gia, instead continued to chirp and zip between Sas and looking like she might pounce on Jinn if he looked up from Maka. After a few laps, and one more warning from Boga, she settled back in next to Obi-Wan’s hip with a small huff. “There, there Gia,” Obi-Wan said, rubbing the smooth scales of her belly. “Maybe next time don’t try to knock me to the ground.”

Further into the stable, Obi-Wan watched as Sas made her way to Boga and ran her hand over her beak. He couldn’t hear what his wife was saying to the dragonmount, but the low chirps that came from Boga were unmistakably happy. She nudged her beak against Sas’ chest who laughed and rubbed down the dragonmount’s neck again.

“Papa? What are you smiling at?” Jinn asked, turning his blue eyes up toward him.

Obi-Wan hadn’t realized he was smiling at all. Truthfully he was just finding himself awestruck again by the turns his life had taken to get to this point. Of course he couldn’t exactly explain all that to his five year old. If it was overwhelming for him to think about surely it would be overwhelming for his son. But maybe it wasn’t he didn’t have to know the why after all. “I’m watching your mother talk to Boga and-”

“Why?”

Okay he should have known that was coming. “She makes me happy, just like you do.” Obi-Wan lifted his hand from Gia and offered it to Jinn. Despite having done this numerous times, Obi-Wan felt a flutter in his chest when his son placed his palm over his. “Take a deep breath,” he said before doing the same and taking a moment to close his eyes. He smiled feeling Jinn lean back against him as they both breathed out, but in his mind he could see Sas embracing Boga again, Jinn running after him with the veractyl hatchlings. Another deep breath and Obi-Wan felt the warmth of his family wash over him. No matter what he had been through before, this was his place now, and there was nowhere he would rather be.

“You and Mama feel like sunlight,” Jinn said as he reached his other hand out to Sas as she walked by.

“Do we now?” she asked, swinging his hand and ruffling both Jinn and Obi-Wan’s hair. There was something in the way the sunlight danced off Sas’ hair that briefly had him mesmerized. He could see the first few strands of silver hair burning orange in light, the faintest hint of smile lines around her eyes and corners of her lips. She was beautiful, she always was, but somehow in that moment the last eight years of their lives felt more real and weighted. A lifetime of fighting, years of war, and somehow they’d survived it, earned their smile lines and slivers of grey alongside their scars and faded wounds.

“Mama, he’s being silly again,” Jinn’s voice pulled Obi-Wan back to the present. “Oh he’s always being silly,” Sas assured him. “Thats why he came out without his shirt and shoes.” As if on cue, both Gia and Maka pounced at Obi-Wan’s feet, much to Jinn’s delight.

“It wasn’t on purpose,” he said, trying to keep Jinn from falling and keep his feet away from the veractyls.

A louder chirp came from the far side of the stables and Gia and Maka scrambled away to their mother. Boga nudged them a few times with her beak, playfully pushing them back as they tried to jump on her, their little legs seeming to flail about with each jump.

“I was just in a hurry,” Obi-Wan said after a few moments.

Sas just hummed in answer and gave Jinn a knowing look, like the two of them were sharing some kind of secret. She then focused on Obi-Wan. “Well, lucky for you, I brought them out to you. Can’t have Gia and Maka clawing you all up right?” Sas said with a wink as she handed him a dark blue shirt. He didn’t need the force to know there was something more she wanted to say, he could practically feel it rippling off of her. Thankfully she let her grin speak for her thoughts, but he still felt heat rising in his face and ears.

He looked away for a moment as he pulled on his shirt. “Thank you, Darling, I’m lucky to have you looking out for me.”

“You’re welcome,” she said leaning down to kiss the top of his head. “I’m going to finish up breakfast, you two should come back in soon,” she added after kissing Jinn’s head as well. “Crix and Marker will be here soon to load up the speeder, and we still have to finish packing-”

“Sas, Darling?” Obi-Wan said, taking her hand.

“Yes?”

“We’re going to be okay.” He pressed a kiss to her fingers. “Its only two nights we’re staying there.” He pressed one more to her knuckles. He saw the tension in her shoulders slowly leave as she took a deep breath and let his reminder sink in.

“Thank you, Obi-Wan,” she said, giving his hand a small squeeze before making her way back up to their home.

Jinn had been watching his parents the whole time, and though Obi-Wan knew his son absorbed things like a sponge and was always watching them closely, he found himself surprised by his look of distaste. His nose held little wrinkles and his brows furrowed together. Sas had always said Obi-Wan made a distinct face when he was thinking really hard, he hadn’t fully realized what kind of face that was until he saw Jinn making the same one.

“Something bothering you, son?”

“Mama didn’t listen to Boga. She told her I couldn’t go.”

“Boga said you can’t go to Theed with us?” In all honesty between almost losing his pants and being tackled by his son and the veractyl, Obi-Wan had forgotten to ask why Jinn had come outside in the first place.

“I had a dream about her getting scared of the fireworks. She’s afraid of the big ones. They’re too loud.” Jinn kept his eyes fixed on the open doorway where Boga, Maka, and Gia left the stable.

“Is that why you came outside?” Obi-Wan rubbed his back slowly, while Jinn’s little hands twisted the hem of his shirt. “Why don’t we go for a walk and you can tell me about your dream,” Obi-Wan offered.

Jinn again wrinkled his nose, before looking up at his father before really taking a moment to think about it.

“Or at the very least you can tell me why your stuffies were hiding under your blankets pretending to be you.”

A mischievous giggle bubbled up from Jinn in answer, his eyes crinkling around the corners much like his mother’s when she was up to something. “They were cold.”

“Mhmm I’m sure they were, they looked very comfortable under your blankets.”

Jinn only giggled more, but held his arms up to be carried, finally accepting Obi-Wan’s offer.

After a brief moment of Obi-Wan having to wrestle his boots away from his son, he finally had his shoes on, and walked out of the stable holding him.

“Boga!” Jinn cried, as the dragonmount playfully rolled over in the field, while Maka and Gia leaped over onto her. Their loud chirps and whistles rang across the field as they moved closer to the edge of the lake where another large, though not larger than Boga, violet veractyl, Agob was waiting for them.

For a brief moment Obi-Wan was abruptly reminded about all the precautions he would have to take housing Boga and Agob to ensure that they would lead to an invasive species issue on Naboo. That he had Sas even had to before the Queen and her advisors to get permission to house the dragonmounts. He might need to update them on some other precautions given Maka and Gia, but for the time being everything was still fine and manageable.

“Boga said I can’t go to the festival today or tomorrow.” Jinn said, breaking the silence.

“You said you had a dream that she was scared, right?”

“The big fireworks scared her,” Jinn said with a nod. “They’re loud…” Again his face got that scrunched up thoughtful look. Like he wasn’t sure what to say, despite having more to say. “She got scared in the barn, and there was no one to help her.”

Obi-Wan nodded, wanting to take his son’s vision very seriously. While Obi-Wan was certain that Boga would in fact be frightened by loud sounds like fireworks, he got the feeling that Jinn’s dream wasn’t really about Boga. “Boga isn’t going to the festival though, she’s staying here, and no one here will be doing any sort of fireworks. Did she tell you why you can’t go?”

“She said-” he giggled again, as Gia overestimated her leap, threw herself too far over her mother and tumbled to the ground. “She said I have to protect her from the big booms”

Obi-Wan nodded, “She will be perfectly safe here away from all the fireworks. But are you worried about them?”

Jinn nodded slowly. “They’re too loud and make my brain funny.”

“Can you tell me how they make your brain funny?” For a moment Obi-Wan was dragged away from his peaceful life on Naboo to back to the Clone Wars. The sound of an explosion and a firework weren’t all that different. Five years had passed, and though Obi-Wan never fully let down his guard, he had done his best to let go of his anxiety. Sas had too, but even she still jumped or gave his hand an extra squeeze at each burst.

“My ears get full, but the fireworks are so pretty. I like the colors.”

“The colors are very nice.”

“Yeah.”

“I think I might have a way for you to just watch them, without it being too loud.” Obi-Wan felt something unclench in his chest as Jinn’s eyes widened and he looked up excitedly.

“Really?” he asked. At Obi-Wan’s nod however, his brows furrowed low over his eyes. “What about Boga?”

“Hmm, can you tell me where you and Boga were in your dream?”

“We were in Theed…but she’s not going to Theed.”

“So do we need to worry about that part of your dream?”

A large smile broke out on his face. “No! And Gia said she’d protect her-”

“Well good. Let's go back inside to eat. I can feel Mama watching us through the window.”

“Mama’s blowing kisses,” Jinn giggled.

“We best not keep her waiting then.”

Obi-Wan leaned against the balcony railing watching the parade dance by below. Hundreds of people marched by, waving flags and color costumes, some even had some lights that made the whole street glow. Despite the cheering, and confetti, and lights and music, the energy flowing through the streets was nothing compared to the energy radiating off of the three children running zipping and dashing in and around the balcony trying to watch the parade between the pillars holding up the railing.

While admittedly Obi-Wan was on his third cup of caff to keep up with Luke, Leia and Jinn, he was happy to hear them laughing and playing.

“Uncle Obi!” Leia exclaimed, pulling on the sleeve of his tunic. “They’re coming they’re coming!” “I wanna see!” Luke cried, trying to climb up his side to see over the bannister.

“Hold on-” Obi-Wan said, doing his best not to let either of the children get too close to the railing. Wrangling the veractyls had seemed easier than wrangling Skywalker children. “Take a seat over here,” he said, leading them to a spot on the balcony that had a clear view of the streets, and the float Padm�� would be on. He kept the twins in front of him, one hand on each shoulder, wanting to make sure that neither of them got any ideas about trying to lean between the columns.

“Did we miss them?” Sas asked from behind, holding Jinn’s hand as they walked out on the balcony.

“Not yet.” Immediately after Obi-Wan answered her, a flash of blue light washed over the courtyard, and the figures of Padmè Amidala, and Anakin Skywalker were projected over the heads of the people.

Luke and Leia erupted into cheers with the rest of the crowd, but the holoimage of Anakin seemed to look directly at them and give them a wide grin and a wave. Padmè followed suit, but then turned her attention to the crowd of people.

“Five years ago the Republic was engaged in a civil war…” she started. In all honesty, Obi-Wan wasn’t really listening to his friend’s speech. He had heard Padmè practicing it in the background of holo calls with Anakin. Instead, he found his attention drawn to the crowds moved by Padmè’s words, just like they are every year. Just moments before they had been cheering and dancing, now they stood listening in awe. Leia and Luke looked on, washed in the same blue light, with a mixture of pride and admiration in their eyes. “Together we can continue to rebuild relationships, and forge new connections to make a better galaxy.”

The moment she ended her speech the sky erupted in a burst of colors. Blues, pinks and purples littered the sky as the firework show began. Below the crowd exploded into cheers, but at his side, Sas held Jinn to her side as he looked to the sky wide eyed.In his ears, Jinn wore small ear pieces to block out the majority of the sound. He wiggled in his mother’s arms before moving next to Luke and Leia. Obi-Wan reached out and pulled Sas against his side before pressing a kiss to the side of her head.

“You missed,” She teased as she reached a hand up to guide his attention to her.

“I never miss. I just like to hear you ask for another,” he teased, kissing her palm on his cheek, and then pressed a soft kiss to her lips. “I love you,” he said softly, though he quickly remembered she couldn’t hear him over the noise of the fireworks or her own ear plugs.

Still, just smiled and mouthed the words, “Love you, too,” before resting her head against his shoulder. He leaned his head against hers when he felt her put her own arm around him and closed his eyes, letting the colors of the fireworks dance behind his lids. He took a deep breath, soaking in the moment, and slowly let out his breath. When he opened his eyes, Jinn and the twins were still laughing and watching the light show above, the woman he loved was content in his arms, and there was peace in his heart.

Tag list: @itsonlymyecho @heyhawtdawgs @pickleprickle

Join the list here!

Thank you guys and I hope you enjoyed!

#obi wan kenobi #star wars fanfic #obi-wan fanfic #star wars oc #obi wan x oc #sas vom #sw fanfic #Happy Obi-Wan #boga the varactyl #Obi-Wan X happiness #revenge of the sith never happened #skywalker twins #Star wars #Obi-Wan probably sees his life flash before his eyes at least twice in this fic #both times are because of crazy twins #fluffy fic #Obi-Wan and Boga

32 notes · View notes

whattraintracks · 1 month

Text

27. Human Friends - TMNT 1987

Buffy and Raphael should've been best friends, spread the word

"Poor Little Rich Turtle" is a spectacular episode

almost entirely because of Buffy Shellhammer

all the boys need more friends their age, Raphael especially

and these two could have gotten along SO WELL

in that episode, Michelangelo’s level of attraction to Buffy is inversely proportional to Raphael’s begrudging respect for her

I bet Raphael tells her about Michelangelo's crush as a joke

and she declares she has no interest in anyone human, turtle, boy, girl, or otherwise, and they high-five/three about it

he would love having a rich friend that lets him hang out in her mansion

he makes fun of her for said mansion but still shamelessly takes advantage of her wealth

which is fair since she’s been trashing his sewer home since day one

Leonardo’s joke about seeing "how the other half lives"? Yeah, they run that bit six feet under

she does not care that Raphael and his brothers are local heroes they’re just some weird little dudes from beneath the city to her

she is, however, so excited to learn about all the hidden sewer routes around the city so she can escape her more boring responsibilities

they're both made of pretty tough stuff and predictably bond over their abnormal childhoods and limited connections/friends

"don't get out much, do you?" he says like he doesn’t have equally negative amounts of experience with normal teenage fun!!

zero understanding of typical friendship rituals between them

they wrestle, gift each other weird stuff, and spend a lot of time trying to figure out what normal teenagers do, only to give up and do something else because the things they thought of sounded boring

they'll just randomly ask each other stuff like, "did you know most people only eat three meals a day with specific foods for each meal?" and be totally confused together about it

they also have the most skewed concept of money

Raphael has never paid for anything in his life other than pizza, and while Buffy knows the exact value of super niche chemical tech supplies, she could not give you a reasonable estimate for produce

a lifetime with Donatello has made Raphael a surprisingly good sounding board for the more technical aspects of Buffy’s work

which she does enjoy, as well as cutthroat business operations, she just hates her public persona and sucking up to adults who think they know better than her

he likes to hold the fact that t(he)y saved her life (multiple times) over her head, but like as a joke

except for when he tries to use it to win arguments

unfortunately, it never works, she is the most ungrateful brat ever thank you much

they very much share that I don’t owe anyone anything attitude

EXCEPT for Master Splinter, whom they mutually respect and agree is the only acceptable adult

she unironically complains about humans with him but particularly has beef with adults, and he heartily encourages this

they love that they can be total jerks around each other without hurting anyone else’s delicate feelings

THEE besties who judge people and hate each other affectionately

all the insults: "martian" "nerd" "pet store reject" "spoiled brat"

when they’re not coming up with colorful insults for each other, they’re doing it together for other people

it's their favorite bonding activity <3

since she enjoyed their initial misadventure so much, she asks if she can go out with the turtles to fight and stuff again, and Raphael laughs at her

until she takes a bunch of martial arts classes and totally kicks his shell

and, well, he supposes a nice easy patrol or two might be fun

unfortunately, the team cannot handle the strength of their combined sass, and she’s forbidden from ever joining them again, even though she has a mean left hook

ultimately, I think they’d mellow each other out now that they have an outlet for their angst and eventually grow and learn a lot from one another

but, mostly, they just talk so much crap together

#march for raph #buffy is one of my favorite one-off human characters from this series #i unironically love her and i am totally correct about this #raphael hamato #buffy shellhammer #headcanons #character analysis #episode analysis #poor little rich turtle #tmnt 1987 #tmnt #whattrainofthought

5 notes · View notes

uhbasicallyjustmilex · 5 months

Text

personal rant (tw chronic pain, chronic illness)

i don't normally post stuff like this on here at all because i love keeping this space here just for fun fandom stuff, but today has just been so unbelievably shit and i feel like i just need to scream into the void about it for a moment to try and process.

basically, me and my sister had vip tickets to meet and see this band today who's incredibly special to us. they were a total lifeline for us when we were growing up, but we never got the chance to see them live. in august when we finally got these tickets over ten years after we both started listening to them, we were both over the MOON. it was such a special moment for us, but also felt like such a milestone because both of us have been through so much since we were those kids sitting in my room finding so much solace in this band's music together. it felt like such a significant thing to be going to see them all these years later, having overcome so much and both of us being in places now that we never thought we could get to.

anyway, fast track to today and i woke up in excruciating pain. some of you might know that i have some issues with various chronic illnesses/pain already, and one of the conditions i have is endometriosis. for anyone who doesn't know, it's an incurable condition where tissue similar to the lining of the womb grows outside the womb and causes chronic pelvic pain, fatigue, and a whole bunch of other fun symptoms. but it's biggest symptom, for me anyway, is the WORST period pain you can imagine. like, no medications can touch it, passed out on the floor for hours, screaming in agony kind of pain. i've lived with it for over half my life now and yes, obviously it affects me - but also i've got pretty good at learning how to manage it, and i have it down to like. a day or two per month where i'm incapacitated by pain rather than half the days. some months i don't get days like that at all now. i wouldn't say i feel good - a lot of the time i'm in pain and on painkillers/carrying around a hot water bottle with me when i'm at home etc - but i'm like. mostly functional. it hurts, but when it does, usually these days i can push through it when i really need to (even if that makes it worse later).

but today? today of all days, i woke up with the most excruciating pain i've had probably all year. i couldn't see or move enough to reach out to my bedside table and take my painkillers, let alone think of getting on a train and going to a gig. it's been over twelve hours and i'm only now able to sit up enough to watch stuff on my laptop for comfort and type this out (and i'm still in a lot of pain). of course my sister had to go to the gig without me, because there was just no way i could physically move to get there. and i'm just feeling so shit because although of course she was lovely about it, she was so nervous about going by herself and also really sad we couldn't go together, and i feel so much like i've let her down and that my body hasn't just ruined this incredibly special thing for me but also for her.

i generally try not to dwell on the stuff i can't do because i've learnt that it's NOT helpful, and it doesn't change anything anyway. i'm used to missing things i want to go to and not being able to see friends sometimes, working and having no energy left to do anything but sleep at the weekends. and most of the time it's okay, i've kind of made my peace with it. but on days like today i just feel so sad about it, all the things i don't get to do - especially things like this which are such special, once in a lifetime kind of opportunities. i know i shouldn't really complain because on the whole i've been really lucky with the things i've got to do despite my condition - i think this is the first time in a good five years or so that it's caused me to miss going to something really big like this, and i've got to go and see so many wonderful bands over that time. but this one... they're just such a special one to me and to my sister, and it feels like such a loss. and it just brings home how much this condition really does affect me - i've got pretty good at downplaying it over the years, but it's days like today where i'm like, no actually. this is awful and there's nothing i can do about it. which is a really scary kind of position to be in.

i don't even really know what the purpose of this post was other than to just let some of that out. normally i'd speak to my sister about it because she understands it the most, but i didn't want to let her see how upset i was about not being able to go because i still wanted her to have the best time possible and not be worrying about me. anway yeah, sorry to anyone who's read all the way through this, i know it's long and rambly and super negative. usually i'm able to take this kind of thing in my stride, but today it just really got me and i just feel so sad and defeated. i know in a few days it won't loom so big, and there are other wonderful things on the horizon that i'll get to do - but yeah. for today, i think i just need to let myself feel sad.

#i am at least finally feeling physically a little better this evening #i have been comfort watching some of my favourite shows and i have my trusty hot water bottle #so i'll be okay #and shouting all that out into the void helped a little too #i'm going to get up and make some hot chocolate when my next lot of painkillers kick in and watch the new doctor who #anyway i'll stop rambling now #thanks to anyone who read and listened 💗#i feel like not everyone gets how important bands can be to someone #but i know you all understand that here 💜#chronic illness #chronic pain #endometriosis #lulu posts

14 notes · View notes

stupidthoughtsinwriting · 1 year

Text

He isn't here anymore (Loki)

Summery: Comforting the son you were left with after the aftermath of the blip, you deal with the grief and memories that come as you as you reassure your son

I dunno what appropriate warnings to put on this so just be warned thats its very angsty and deep. sorry in advanced.

Im posting this before i do anything else and ruin it but after months of tinkering i present this....

Screams woke you from your light slumber. Never been much of a heavy sleeper, your ears instantly registered the fear filled screams coming from the other room. It pained you to hear the horrible echoes of the poor thing wailing dead at night. Quickly throwing the covers off, you ran from your room, sped out the halls to his, where you knew the cries of agony resonated.

Slowing your movements by the door, you knocked and called out his name, but his shrieks muffled out your calls. Slowly opening the remaining barrier restricting you from helping him, you caught sight of the room dim but the soft glow of moonlight, though shrouded by rain, seeping in the room. The glow was enough to help you make out figures and that’s where you saw the boy. Hiding in the dark corner of the room, by the dressers, curled up in a tight ball, screaming in agony. You slowly walked over, calling his name again and again to get his attention but your calls never broke through.

‘Sleipnir’ you called softly, desperate to calm the boy without scaring him anymore. He had his head bowed down his knees, arms hugging his legs like a lifeline, the poor boy was shaking. It pained you to see the child in anguish, in pure distress as you stay unharmed. He may not be your blood, but he was your child.

The poor thing was in complete torment, devised by his own mind from the tortures he’s had to endure due to his years as the revolting god Odin’s steed. To be taken from his mother’s grasp just after birth was enough but to be in the peak of battle at such a young age, such traumas would already be a heavy burden to man of right age but a meagre child? The mere thought of it haunts your very being, down to your bones. You couldn’t possibly imagine what he was going through, and you wouldn’t let anyone themselves think otherwise. He’s just a child. Looks to some would parallel to a five-year-old and he is. He's just at the right age to be a five-year-old in Midgardian standards. To play out with children, to study with others in preschool, to paint with their tiny hands, that’s what he should be doing. Not to suffer every moment haunted by the past but to enjoy life freely.

He’s just a child. You often wondered how he copes with the horror of his past. He’s young, you couldn’t imagine how, even if he could think through his thoughts thoroughly. You thought highly of him, just as clever as his mother and admired his strength through all of it but you worried how he is. How he handles or grasps what happened. You’re there for him but you remember it being hard to think thoroughly at such a young age. You barely remember anything from your youth, but you were sure you hardly ever thought of anything too seriously.

You love the boy to bits. He’s as much as your child as Loki’s. You’d protect him with your life even with the expense of it. You loved him as such to know he didn’t deserve any of this. Children never asked to be born, it’s the parents who bring them to this world. Though they’re grateful, they never asked to be born to slave away, to be born in such poor conditions, to live what will be a terrible life but their thankful. They make do with what they’ve got and the hardships but do parents ever really consider what will happen to them? Children are forced out of the world and others are born with privilege, but the other half are born to slave away for their keepings. It’s the hard truth in the universe and they deal with it.

You never faulted Loki for introducing you to this blessing of a lifetime. Through good days, Sleipnir is bright as the sun, clever as can be and as humorous as possible, all traits inherited from his mother and you were grateful for that. Through dark times though, the memories of battle with Odin plagued his memories, the harsh sting of a lashing as punishment eerily crawled up his skin, sending him with a harsh tug of reminiscence back to the painful torment. It wasn’t uncommon to happen during daylight but nearly every night in his first few months with you, you and Loki woke to his screams in the middle of the night and came rushing to his aid. He didn’t get much sleep for months and survived on the naps he took during the day in Loki’s arms. It worried you both, resulting in letting him sleep in your bed, held tightly by either of you but more often in Loki’s arms. He’d still wake, thrashing but was quickly comforted by Loki’s words.

You loved the boy so much but if you could have spared him the tortures, the nightly plagues, you would have let him go. If you were his mother and had at least thought of a single thing hurting him, let alone this, you would have spared him this world. He never deserved this, he’s been nothing but kind to those around him, following the instructions of others, never once breaking a rule in fear of punishment… you thought the child too pure for this world.

You knew Loki had his regrets for not protecting him and you understood, however the thoughts you had would only send him deeper into self-loathing, you couldn’t do that to him. You love them both so much, you’d rather die than hurt the ones you love.

‘Sleipnir’ you called again, taking a careful step closer, not wanting to startle the boy. He still had his face buried deep on his knees but by the third call, his screams lowered in volume due to the strain of its harsh use enough so that he could hear your soft pleas. He lifts his head hesitantly, his gorgeous ebony locks, much like his mothers, fanned at the front, covering most of the red, tear-streaked face of a beautiful young boy. His shrieks quieted down slowly as he tried to get through the fog of tears clouding his eyes.

Once he saw you, hesitant as if to not disturb an animal, crouching, just a few paces away from him, he straightened his neck, wanting to get a good look to see if there were no threats of Odin and only you. You noticed his vigilance, much like his mothers. You would have admired the likeness but due to the circumstances, you knew he looked out for fear of danger and threat. Taking another step, you announced yourself.

‘Kjæreste’ (darling) you started, knowing the familiar calling would help ease him a bit.

‘y/n?’ he questioned, not truly believing what his eyes showed.

‘Ja det er bare meg kjære. It’s only me. ingen dårlig fyr. No pain. ingen smerte’ (Yes it’s me darling/no bad guy/no pain) you affirmed. He still looked cautiously, purely out of fear.

‘No. men han var der, he to take me. han der’ (but he was there/he there) he pointed right beside the bed. You looked over and saw nothing, but his sheets thrown to the ground. He started to sob harder, and you looked back at him, seeing the crystal shimmer down his soft cheeks.

‘Nei han er borte. Gone darling.’ (no he’s gone) you said slowly standing back up, moving beside the dresser to turn on the nightlight. A soft light, the colour of morning dawn brightened the room. It helped the boy see more clearly, that the bad man wasn’t there anymore and only you.

‘See no more. He’s gone. det er bare meg som ser ut’ (it’s just me look) you keened, slowly moving back towards him. He was still trembling as he took a good look at the room. He saw nothing out of place save for the blanket and you.

‘Det er bare meg, it’s just me. han er ikke her lenger’ (It’s just me/he isn't here anymore) you continued, taking the last few steps until you’ve reached him. You went on your knees and held back on touching him at first, knowing your lesson after you did so, what seemed like a long time ago. He watched your every move, still wary and unsure of his safety.

A soft smile shaped your lips as a finger carefully swiped the hair on the front of his face, tucking it behind his ear to reveal the beautiful though red and tear-streaked face of your adopted son.

‘It’s just me darling’ you assured, letting your fingers brush away the fallen tears decorating his soft cheeks. His tears never ceased so you let them flow, knowing he needed to set them free so instead, you opted on cradling his cheek, letting your digits stroke the delicate features, all to similar to a certain god of mischief.

The touch reminded him of the ones his mother used to comfort him with. The careful caress of your fingers were much like his mamas and the kind smile you offered brought him back to the nights much like this when Loki was the one that came to console him from his nightly terror.

He leaned in the warmth of comfort you seemed to provide and your heart swelled at the sight. You kept the welled-up tears of your own at bay whilst you continue to comfort the snivelling boy.

‘Det er greit, det er bare meg. Its’ just me’ (it’s okay, it’s just me) you repeated as the child let out a whimper.

And just as the words were spoken, loud clap of thunder rang, causing the child scream out of fear and jump at you, nearly causing you to fall back. The rain tapped the windows more harshly as you wrapped your arms around the shaking boy. His cries increased in volume and there wasn’t any hope in stopping the tears anymore.

Another clash sounded and the remaining light in the room flickered. Every clap of thunder that wrang the town they lived in sent the boy whimpering each time, the horrid feel of the whip Odin used to get him to submit and obey stung his skin. Every crash brought a flash of memories the boy so desperately tried to forget.

It pained you to see him that way. You didn’t know what to do but hold him tighter. Your son was in pain and all you wished for is to take it all away. To let you suffer instead of the poor boy in your arms but when were the gods or the universe ever so kind.

You cursed Thor for the raging storm as a hand moved up and down Sleipnir’s back. He had his head buried deep in the crook of your neck. Tears soaked the tunic you wore as his tiny hands clung on to you for dear life. You tried to console him, whispering words of reassurance, telling him he was safe, but you doubted he heard you over the roaring tempest let alone his sobs.

‘Shhh, it’s okay darling. det er greit, jeg er her. det er bare onkel Thor, it’s okay’ (it's okay, I’m here/it's only Uncle Thor) you whispered in his ear, raking your fingers through his unruly raven hair.

You stayed like that for a while, never moving from your spot on the carpeted floor. You didn’t know how long it took, but you waited until the storm eased to even shift your position. The movement sent him whining though, he hugged you tighter, gripping you tight enough, I’d be very difficult to even try to pry him off you.

He let out a whimper, the motion made him think you were pulling him off you, getting sick of his clinginess but he couldn’t lose you. He’s scared of losing you. You cared for him whenever he needed, comforted him when he was scared out of his wits from a nightmare, he loved you just as much as he loved him mama and he couldn’t lose that.

‘Noo, Mummy stay’ he cried, holding you tighter. The tears you desperately held back streamed at the name. He’s never called you that before, you were always y/n to him but to be called his mummy is an honourable pleasure you will cherish till the day you die. You held him tighter; your grip rivalling his as you comforted him to the best of your abilities.

‘I’m not going anywhere darling. jeg er her, jeg er her. jeg skal ikke noe sted.’ (I’m here, I’m here/ I’m not going anywhere) you said, gently scratching his scalp. The boy cried harder, wrapping his arms around your neck as you gave him a kiss on the temple.

‘It’s okay, det er greit jeg er her, I’m here Kjæreste’ (It’s okay I’m here/darling) you whispered, laying your head against his before trying to pull back. He whined and fought to stay in the safety hidden by your hair, but you coaxed him and explained the matter.

‘Shhh its okay darling. It’s okay, I’m not going anywhere’ you repeated, pulling him gently off your shoulder and cradling his head in your hands. There you held a young boy, tear filled eyes, bloodshot and puffy, small rivers streaming down flushed cheeks and a small bright red button nose stuffed to the brim. The look of absolute fear held in those ocean eyes crushed your heart, but you forced a soft smile on your lips, wiped the dripping snot with the sleeve of your tunic and kissed the top of his head. He melted in your hold, finally feeling the absolute love you held for him in every form of affection you gave and the safety you promised him long ago.

‘I, we have to move though Kjæreste’ (darling) you explained, letting your fingers wipe the tears that flowed. He whined at the word move, but you quickly assured him.

‘Just off the floor Kjæreste. Maybe to my room, where you’ll stay with me in bed’ (darling) you offered, knowing he was too scared to be alone on his own. He looked at you with those beautiful blue green teary eyes, making sure you weren’t going and leaving him before giving you a faint nod. Your grin grew a bit wider as you wiped the continuously -though reduced- flowing tears for the last time -or atleast for the time being- and placed a longing kiss on his head, wanting him to assure that you weren’t going anywhere.

‘Vil at jeg skal bære deg søt?’ (Want me to carry you sweet?) you asked. He nodded more eagerly, knowing to wrap his arms around your neck tightly and carefully around your waist. He hid his head back on the crook of your neck, still letting out soft sniffs as a hand went to his back once again to caress the curve of his spine. Stilling the movement as you stood up, you quickly bent to get the green blanket -one that used to be the cape of your husbands- thrown to the ground and grey wolf stuffie from the bed before you made your way to your room.

You opted to sit on the rocking chair near the window first, well aware how the gentle rock helped him calm down. Sitting down, you nudged the nose of the wolf to his cheek, making him turn and see the toy. With your signature kind smile, you gave him the cuddle toy and he held it very close to himself, laying his head on your shoulder as he admired the plush. You covered him with his blanket, making sure he was comfortable and secured before you leaned back on the chair.

He still let out small sniffles, holding the wolf gifted by his mama close to him as your fingers moved the few stray strands of hair the fell and covered his face. You gave him another peck on the head, resuming the gentle caress of your hand on his back, in tune with the chair as you laid your head on his.

You figured on humming a tune, an Asgardian song Loki used to sing to you and used as a lullaby for Sleipnir. You haven’t done it before, but it seems to be working as he was relaxing in your hold. He removed a hand from his grip on the toy and laid it across your chest, gripping the tunic and some of your skin, tight. You melted at the small gesture, surely unnoticed by him but meaning the world to you.

‘I miss mamma’ he whispered out of nowhere. You lifted your head to look at him, but he let his head stay where it was, he didn’t move so you placed your head back. He hasn’t spoken to you about this before, but you understood.

‘I miss him too’ you replied, merely a murmur but he heard.

Three and a half months ago, half of the living people in the universe disappeared. Thanos used the infinity stones to wipe out half of all living creatures with just the snap of his fingers. Loki was among the half that got dusted.

You were far away from the battle, out here in your little cottage in Norway with Sleipnir. You begged him to not go when the news of Odin’s absence in Asgard reached your home. Sleipnir was frightened out of his wits when he heard the name but you both comforted him, telling him the bad man was never going to see let alone hurt him again.

Loki had to go. He had to. Not only look for his father but to see to the people of Asgard. He promised to be back in a short while, he just had to do this. He promised it wouldn’t be long, that he’d be back before you knew it and stupidly, you reluctantly agreed.

It turned out that Odin wasn’t far from your home. That he perished just up the cliff, near the neighbouring village of the one you took residence in. That his death caused the release of his estranged daughter and her massacre on Asgard. That the only way to stop her was to trigger Ragnarök and destroy the Realm Eternal.

It turned out that on the way back here on Midgard, their ship was attacked by Thanos and his sick children. They got a lot of the people into escape pods but there was already so much death. Less than half of those that survived Hela’s destruction made it to the escape pods, Valkyrie in lead of them. They turned up on Midgard’s orbit a month after but the few heads that stayed on the vessel barely made it or didn’t at all.

You knew something wasn’t right days after Loki’s departure and your suspicions were confirmed when you heard screams in the village nearby. The people were disappearing but your heart truly broke when a knock came to your door. Cautiously with the dagger you were given to protect yourself with, you answered and met the bloody god of thunder. He looked awful, truly worse for wear but the look of grief that painted his face told you faster than whatever words he were to utter.

You broke, only for a second. A hand covered your mouth as you slid down to the floor, dropping the dagger beside you as quiet muffled screams left you and tears streamed from your cheeks. The tantrums you wanted to act on diminished when you heard the soft call of your name. Hastily wiping the tears from your eyes, you turned around to see the raven-haired boy peaking his head out from the corner, holding tightly on to his wolf.

Thor told you what happened after you put Sleipnir to bed that night. He told you everything. How Loki fought bravely and honourably. How he saved the people. How you and Sleipnir were a constant thought and mention, whenever in conversation. How he had to face Thanos. How he made Thor promise to protect you both when he was gone.

You let him stay in the cottage, to get himself cleaned up and to stay the night. You asked him to watch over the oblivious sleeping boy as you just had to get out. You screamed when you reached the top of the cliff. You let out all the hurt and grief you felt but you couldn’t do much. You couldn’t let yourself stress too much on the matter, but it was hard. You cried all the tears you could and screamed till your throat ached, but you had to take care of yourself. You couldn’t lose yourself and he wouldn’t want that. You still had Sleipnir and this just added to the mountain of grief he’s already experience, so you couldn’t lose yourself, for him, for both them.

Stalking back to your home, you quickly checked on your husband’s son before you cried yourself to sleep, holding his pillow tight against you and soaking it with tears.

Loki was brilliant. He was a perfect parent to Sleipnir. He had his faults and mistakes, but he was perfect. You missed the nights where he held you close, tightly wound in his arms or the nights where he took Sleipnir back to bed with him, the boy encased in his mother’s embrace while still having a hold on you. Always so doting to the both of you. How he loved you both so much and how you loved him back, you missed him. So so much.

‘I miss him so much’ you added, stumbling over your words as tears sprung to your eyes. The boy lifted his head to see you in the brink of breaking, so he shifted to wrap an arm around your neck and plant a kiss on your cheek.

‘I love you mummy’ he spoke tiredly, scratching an eye before letting his hand settle back around your neck. He laid his head on your clavicle, burrowing himself on your neck just like how his mother did before falling asleep.

Tears poured at the young boy’s confession. It was hard for him to open up, even to Loki but you were slowly breaking through his walls and now you’ve reached the other end. Like the many other forms of affection he’s presented this night, this was a new one. He’s never told you he loved you, but you knew he did in his own way, he didn’t have to say it. But to hear it is just another thing.

‘I love you too Kjæreste’ (darling) you replied, placing a kiss where your lips could reach and pulled him closer.

You hummed the song again until you reached the part where the lyrics came. Singing softly, you remembered the times Loki serenaded you with the very same song, pulling you to your feet, swaying to the delicate melody he sang angelically. You remembered how he changed the gentle ballad to lively music, the sound of your laughter mixing with the song as he pranced around after having a few too many pints of mead. How he shifted the song into a lullaby, you standing hidden behind the door as he hymned the song to the boy in his arms.

Men trærne de danser

Og fossene stanser

Når hun synger, hun synger

Kom hjem

Men trærne de danser

Og fossene stanser

When she sings she sings come home

You let the chair rock back and forth, drawing abstracts on his back. Feeling his breathing relax, you closed your eyes, your memories drifting to the first night you caught the sight of your husband lulling his son back to sleep after another tormented nightmare.

He held him close, the boy tightly clasped in his mother’s embrace, head laid on the crook of his neck and his tiny arms wrapped around it, the sight warmed your heart. Loki had his back on the headboard, head laid lightly on the boy’s head as you heard him hum the lullaby.

I stormsvarte fjell jeg vandrer alene

Over isbreen tar jeg meg frem

I eplehagen står møyen den vene

Og synger: når kommer du hjem?

Men trærne de danser

Og fossene stanser

Når hun synger, hun synger

Kom hjem

The memory of him holding the boy tighter just as he finished the song played in your head and unconsciously you did the same. The child had fallen asleep in his arms, finally a look of peace painted in that gorgeous feature. He planted a kiss on his head, staying a little bit longer with him whilst you went back to your room.

Now you held his boy in your arms. The slow even huffs of air you felt on your neck was enough indication that he’d finally fallen asleep. You continued rocking the chair and moving a hand up and down his back as you placed a lingering kiss on the top of his head.

The longing for your late husband bared as unknown tears shed. He was so much like his mother. The nightly terrors you helped Loki himself nurse were full of you whispering words of comfort and him wrapped tightly around you. The mother and son were alike in ways some only you would notice and you cherished each and every single similarity to heart.

Wiping away the tears that fell, that usually were kissed off by your beloved, you held the boy tight, securing the blanket on him before standing up and moving to the bed. You sat on the edge, him still in your arms as you swung your legs up on the mattress. You knew the boy wouldn’t allow you off his grip and learned from times before that it was better to keep him in your hold.

You toed the duvet up to cover at least your legs as you settled your boy beside you, pulling up the green fabric of his comforter, resting it just on his shoulder and laying his head on your arm. A hand was still firmly clutched on his wolfie, so you let the other draped over your chest, his grip on the tunic tightening one placed.

His hold was possessive. Either a show of his need and love for you or his protectiveness, you felt both and you just knew Loki would be so proud of him for protecting and just being there for his mummy. You couldn’t bare the thought of being alone after the snap. You would have writhed in your grief and lose yourself if you had not had your children. You barely would have had the will to continue on without a purpose but yourself. It’s selfish down to the bone but you felt its truly how you felt. Without the boy in your arms or the child your darling husband left as his final gift to you, you couldn’t imagine a future without your family. You thanked every god that heard you for blessing you with a purpose and keeping your children safe. It was just enough to dull the ache of losing Loki and keep yourself together but the grief stayed and you just knew that it would stay there for a very long time.

Maybe he’d be proud of you too, for taking care of yourself and pushing through the grief so to take care of your family. For persevering through every trouble thrown your way and still standing out strong, still taking care of yourself for the kids. You knew he would have wanted you to live for yourself as well, but you just couldn’t do it. You’d live for the memory of him but if you had nothing, you wouldn’t be here, not without him.

These were the thoughts you used to cope. The belief that your prince would be proud of what you’ve done. For keeping the people he loved the most safe and cared for.

You feared the thoughts that dwelled in your mind, his fury for being so careless with his offspring’s and his beloved. You feared the look of disappointment that would paint his face if he ever saw you lose yourself and you feared that too. Losing your self wasn’t an option but you feared the day that you might or might have.

A hand continued the ministrations on the boy’s back, moving up and down while the other went to your protruding bump. The usual soft fluttering you felt becoming more and more sensible as the babe gained its strength and started moving around. A small grin drew your lips as the baby started kicking lightly.

‘It’s okay darling, I’m okay. Only big brother with a nightmare’ you whispered, caressing your stomach right where the child kicked. You’ve grown to learn that the baby grew a bit restless when it sensed that something wasn’t right, much like its father.

The foetus is only 5 months old, but your bump would be mistaken for a woman farther along in her gestation. You’ve heard from the surviving elders of Asgard that the babe is rather small for a Jotun but considering the child is half mortal and that Loki was rather small as a babe himself, you thought it normal. You were still big, but you loved the child and couldn’t wait for them to be born.

You were 6 weeks long when you told Loki and the gleam in his eyes was worth every pain you were in. He held you in a tight embrace as tears brimmed both your eyes before he lifts you high, much to your surprise. With a yelp, he spun you around the room, chuckles and laughter leaving both your lips as you begged him to put you down.

Following your pleas, as soon as your feet touched the floors, his lips captured yours. He poured every ounce of love and gratitude he held into the kiss, holding you so carefully as the thought of carrying such sacred cargo bared in his mind.

What you’d give to feel those lips on yours again. The sight of stunning emerald orbs staring back with such love and fondness…

You looked around the room, what used to be your shared bedroom, lighted only by the dim lamp you’ve turned on after coming back with Sleipnir. The rain had eased to a light shower, ceasing its harsh beating on the windows and letting the raindrops race to the bottom.

The room or the house itself lost its light when Loki… passed. The laughter filled halls now screamed silently with only two souls managing the home, both grieving the loss of a loved one. A shadow hung around and dimmed the room like never before with the house’s master gone and entertainment had been scarce, but you did your best to bring life back to your home through no success.

This will always be your home. The memories so carefully made and savoured were rooted in this lodging. The late-night dances to the moonlight, the afternoons spent colouring and playing in the living room with both your boys, and the lazy mornings where the whole of your family snuggled up on the couch to either watch a film of sorts or the snow fall. These memories were all made in this cabin you and Loki worked so hard on building, you’d fight to protect the last few gifts your darling has left you with.

The green tunic of his that you wore was damp with mixtures of snot and tears. Both from your own tears and the boy that you held in your arms. The pillow of his beside your head had begun to lose his scent yet you still relished whatever you had left of him. You had to. To keep the memory of him in your mind as the final throws of denial ebbed away. You had to accept it. Finally, and fully accept that he isn’t here anymore. Though it broke your heart to admit, you had to accept the reality of it in preparation for the new life he fought so bravely to protect.

‘It’s okay. We’re going to be okay.’ You muttered for the benefit of everyone in the room, stroking the swell of your stomach as the babe finally settled to rest. You blinked back your tears and wiped the fallen few with a free hand before uttering a simple thanks prayer to your beloved and falling to the abyss of sleep.

‘Thank you darling. For everything. For the life you chose to trust me in caring for. For the family you left me with. For the love you gave me. I miss you so much. So so much. Thank you and I love you.’

sorry... i warned to the best of my ability which was awful i admit but i do hope you enjoyed it💚

this may be rubbish but the hell with it. im still trying to figure out writing so... yah

82 notes · View notes