#and it’s only been a day this other person might still get back to me lol
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"can i call you later?"
the wind bites at your cheeks, but the sting you feel is as much from the smile on your face as it is from the chill.
"dunno," you muse, pursing your lips as though you're contemplating the question deeply. "can you?"
rintarou groans, but the sound isn't half as plaintive as it ought to be. you watch as his head hangs down defeatedly where his frame is folded over the railing that lines the front of the train station, his body pitched forward over the barrier like he's trying to reach you on the other side.
you've been saying goodbye for the past twenty minutes—or, you've been trying to. sort of. maybe. the train you'd planned to catch has already come and gone, and the next is set to soon arrive. one more and it will be the last of the night, but not even knowing that fact seems to be moving you closer towards the door to the station—content to stay here, like this, as the wind of the late fall night nips at your cheeks and the two of you muddle through your goodbye with the inelegance of two people who couldn't be less committed to it if they tried.
rintarou lifts his head to meet your gaze.
"i mean it, though." he says. "can i call you tonight?"
your stomach flips when he looks at you this way. when he keeps looking at you this way.
"we just spent hours together," you remind him, but your words are too breathy to make impact. too elated to be reproachful.
you've been on three dates with rintarou now. you think they're dates anyway, though it's never explicitly been stated. his invitations are always casual, sandwiched in between all the other texts he sends to you these days, so you might be reading into things too closely for your own good. but dinner doesn't just feel like dinner when rintarou has this way of looking at you like you're the only person he's ever laid his eyes on.
"i know," he answers. it's not an explanation, or an excuse, or even an apology. it's plain acceptance. a shamelessness you find wretchedly endearing.
you glance back at the station behind you, biting the inside of your cheek to temper your delight.
"my train is coming," you say.
he looks a bit crestfallen. laughably glum, considering the circumstances.
you drag the heel of your shoe back ever so slightly, not quite a step—at least not in any meaningful way—but inching in the direction of the doors at a glacial pace. continental drift seems positively hasty in comparison to your retreat.
"bye," he calls, his tone dejected. you watch as he lifts his hand weakly, still slumped over the railing, and waves at you with only a few fingers raised.
you want to laugh, but your chest is so full of something else—something syrupy and fluttering and good—that it's like there's no space for it underneath your ribs.
you call back to him just before you step into the station.
"rintarou—"
there are other people around, stepping between and around you both—rushing into the station to escape the cold, or moving briskly as they brace themselves and step out into it—but you hardly notice them when your eyes meet.
you smile.
"—call me later."
he calls you almost every night after that.
even as the cool autumn winds change with the seasons; carrying flakes of snow as winter blankets nagano, warming with the spring, turning heavy with humidity in summer, and then repeating the cycle anew.
even as your reluctant goodbyes turn from late nights outside of train stations to early morning words whispered under blankets as rintarou leaves for practice or away games.
even as the uncertainty of whether or not you're getting your hopes up—of whether those meetings were even really dates at all—melts away into nothing more than a memory.
you're not even sure what the two of you manage to spend so much time talking about on the phone. nothing, really. everything in its own right. rintarou's phone calls are something you come to look forward to at the end of a long day. something you anticipate when you have exciting news to share. a comfort when you're missing him and a relief when you need him most.
"is that the last one?" you ask, turning just in time to see your boyfriend—your live-in boyfriend now, officially—flop back on the sofa after he drops the last moving box atop the stack piled near the balcony door.
"yeah," he wheezes, evidently winded from the exertion—from the exhaustion—of moving house. you laugh a bit to yourself as you shuffle over to the sofa, leaning over the back so you can peer down at him where he lays sprawled against the cushions.
"aren't you a professional athlete?" you tease him. "shouldn't you have better stamina?"
rintarou cocks a brow, something sly swimming behind his gaze.
"i need better stamina?" he drawls. "you're usually complaining about the opposite."
you roll your eyes in the wake of his remark, grabbing a throw pillow from beneath his head and yanking it from under him unceremoniously, only to press it lightly against his face.
you shuffle back towards the kitchen where you'd left the box you were unpacking abandoned. you grab a plate from inside the cardboard and turn to place it on the shelf you'd decided would house your dinnerware.
"it's late," you tell him, reaching for the next plate in the box. "you should go wash up first."
you don't get a reply, and that surprises you. you creep over to the sofa again, only to find rintarou staring up at the ceiling, lost in thought.
"hey," you laugh a little, leaning on your elbows against the back of the couch. "where'd you go?"
rintarou's gaze snaps back to yours. he still looks at you like he did on your first date. like he did outside the train station on your third. he smiles, bit it's a bit sheepish.
"sorry, was just thinking," he answers quietly. he reaches up from where he's lying on his back, brushing his thumb against your cheek. his smile turns a little bit giddy, then. boyishly charming. "can't believe we finally got a place together."
you lean into his touch, huffing a little breath through your nose—halfway to a laugh.
"guess you won't have to call me anymore," you joke, and rintarou's expression changes—falls slightly—but only for a moment. you realize what you've said, or at least think about the implications more, and you sort of understand the shift.
you fell in love through those phone calls.
you'll miss them—the ritual, the familiarity, the comfort—even though you know they've been replaced by something better.
you turn your face, pressing a fleeting kiss to rintarou's palm. "go wash up," you tell him again, heading back towards the kitchen and your (now twice abandoned) box of plates.
he seems to heed your advice this time, peeling himself up off the sofa and shuffling off in the direction of the washroom.
"don't use all the hot water!" you call after his retreating frame, and you hear him reply noncommittally under his breath before the door clicks closed behind him.
you've only got three dishes left to unpack before your box is emptied, but the shelf you'd been organizing doesn't seem to want to accommodate all of your bowls in the way you wanted, so you're left arranging and rearranging them as you try to find a way to get them to fit.
in the back pocket of your jeans, your phone begins to ring. with three plates balanced in one hand, you reach for it with the other—the movement muscle memory now, instinct more than volition, after all this time. you answer the call without even looking at the screen, holding the phone between your ear and your shoulder as you continue juggling the dishes in front of you.
"oop—hello?"
you pause after you answer the call, realizing for the first time that you shouldn't be getting a call at all. not at this time of night. not in this apartment.
the line is quiet, just the sound of breathing that you could recognize anywhere to be heard from the other end of the call.
"why are you calling me?" you ask rintarou, but the words are light. too fond to be reproachful.
you hear rintarou laugh—from the other end of the call and from the other side of the bathroom door.
"just wanted to hear your voice," he answers you (the same way he has a thousand nights before when you've asked him that same question.)
"you're ridiculous," you tell him, completely enamoured.
"i know," he replies.
it's quiet for a moment as the two of you stand on opposite sides of your apartment. on opposite ends of your call.
you shift a stack of bowls a little to the left. it all fits now. just the way you wanted it to.
"y'know, the hot water won't run out as fast if we shower together—"
you hear the bathroom door open, and when you look over your shoulder, rintarou is peeking at you from around the edge of the door—his phone held to his ear, a smile on his face you know is mirrored on your own, and a look in his eye that's never once wavered.
he tilts his head.
"—wanna join me?"
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Daisychains II
Marta Torrejón x Caroline Graham Hansen x Child!Reader
Summary: It's gardening day
Caro had never really noticed the amount of plants at Marta's house. Well, she knew there were a lot but she had never really noticed just how many there were until she started visiting more regularly.
Usually, Marta would come to hers for dates but with you warming up to her, Caro came to Marta's every week.
She shifts the bouquet to her other hand as she rings the doorbell. There's a shuffle inside for a moment before she notices you peeking out through the curtains and disappearing again.
Marta opens the door and you peer out from behind her legs.
"Hi, Caro," You say, your voice soft and gentle.
You're wearing a pair of overalls and your welly boots. You seem quite overdressed for what is a very hot day in Barcelona but Caro doesn't question it as she hands you the flowers she picked out especially for you.
She brings you flowers every time she visits now and you're always happy to receive them. You do a very impressive job of keeping them all alive for weeks at a time and, honestly, Caro's a bit in awe of how you do it.
"She was very excited to see you today," Marta says as she watches you put the flowers in a vase you'd already prepared.
"Really?"
"Of course, I think you're her favourite person now."
The tips of Caro's ears turn pink as she bashfully looks down. She feels shy all of a sudden. The feeling only deepens as she feels a small hand take hers and looks to the side to see you smiling at her.
You look a little shy too, your hand dwarfed in Caro's.
"Mami," You say to Marta," Can I show Caro my garden?"
Marta laughs, pushing some strands of hair out of your face. "Well, it is gardening day, isn't it? Why don't you show Caro all your plants and I'll fill up your watering can?"
"My frog one?"
"Yes, your frog one."
"Okay." You tug lightly on Caro's hand and guide her out of the back door.
Caro's never been in the garden before but she's not surprised that it's very clearly yours. You've got plant boxes against the fences and a little swing she knows is the same one that Marta sat in to announce your arrival on social media.
It's got little cushions and looks meticulously cared for even though you're now six and it's been there for at least a few years before you were born.
You've got flowers against one of the fences and you pull Caro over to them.
"These are my flowers," You say.
The long box is separated into smaller boxes, each with their own flower in them.
"These are my roses," You say," And these are my tulips. This one's for my orchards. They're still little though so they're still growing."
"They look very nice."
"Mami is helping me," You say, pulling her across the garden to your other plant box," This is for my vegetables. We're growing broccoli and peas because they're healthy!"
It's the most talkative Caro's ever seen you.
You show her every inch of the garden and Caro doesn't even care that the sun is horrifically hot and she could quite possibly get sunburn.
Marta comes out soon after with a frog watering can and helps you water all your plants.
"It's gardening day," Marta explains as she and Caro retreat to the garden swing while you pad around with much smaller plant pots," Every Saturday when we don't have a match."
"She's good," Caro says.
"My parents got her a gardening set when she was three. She's been hooked for years now. All of her books are about plants. She doesn't like storybooks anymore. Just ones about gardening."
Caro sips on her lemonade as she watches you pour soil into an empty pot, watering it liberally before scattering a few seeds in and covering them. You set the pot on the garden table, right in the sun before hurrying off to grab a different pot.
"Clearly they've paid off. I think you might run out of space soon."
Marta groans jokingly. "She asked me for allotment space for her next birthday. What six year old knows that word? Allotment."
Caro joins in with her laughter, setting her drink down as Marta calls for you.
"Conejita! Come have a snack please!"
You huff a little bit, patting the petals of the flower you were pruning before hurrying over.
Marta had brought out carrot sticks earlier and you easily wiggle your way between her and Caro to eat them.
"Conejita grew these all by herself," Marta says as you munch," Didn't you?"
"Mami helped," You say to Caro, nodding earnestly," Do you like them?"
Honestly, Caro doesn't really like carrots at all but she still takes the one you offer her. She nods. "I really like them."
You beam.
"It was mine and Mami's special project," You explain," We had a lot of fun!"
Marta laughs, pulling you into her lap and sticking a floppy straw hat on your head to protect you from the sun. She bounces her knee a few times and you giggle.
"We did have a lot of fun, Conejita. I love growing things with my girl."
"I love growing things with you too, Mami!" You lean into her as you eat your carrot snacks. You suddenly have a thought and sit upright again. "Can I have a special project with you too, Caro?"
"I..." Caro's ears turn red again. "I'd like that."
"Mami, did you hear? I can grow something with Caro!"
"I did hear. It'll have to be next week though so you can have time to decide what you want to grow."
You wiggle around until Marta sets you on your feet and you grab Caro's hand, pulling her inside.
"We can grow flowers!" You decide," I have a book so we can choose! Come on, come on, Caro!"
Caro allowed herself to be led back inside and sat down on the sofa. There are flowers from last week set out on the coffee table and you drag over a big flower encyclopaedia from the shelf.
It looks very heavy but you stubbornly refuse to let Marta help you carry it. She smiles fondly at you as you place it in Caro's lap and begin to look through the pages.
"Conejita," She says as you and Caro debate what flower you're going to grow together," Should I put these away?" She's holding last week's flowers and you quickly shake your head.
"No! Wait, please, Mami!" You take them from her and glance at Caro. "I know they're not daisies," You say," But can you teach me how to make a flower crown with these too?"
You're very lucky because most of Caro's free time has now been taken up learning how to braid flowers together for exactly this moment.
She places the book to the side and hefts you up onto her lap.
"I'd love to."
#woso x reader#marta torrejon x reader#marta torrejon#caroline graham hansen x reader#caroline graham hansen#woso community#woso fanfics#woso imagine#woso
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In Limbo [Chapter 6]
mafia!141 masterlist | In Limbo masterlist | general masterlist | taglist | playlist
mafia!Simon Riley x fem!Reader
no good deed ever goes unpunished
cw: minor depictions of violence, shady activities, non-con touching/groping, non-con kissing, a lot of hurt, no comfort, playfully shitting on people from Birmingham.
wc: 5k
Small chunks of salt stick to the tips of Simon’s fingers, dusting them like fresh snow. You were right; a simple order of chips really isn’t enough to keep him going throughout the night.
If anything, the saltiness makes him hungrier. It pummels his stomach until it’s grumbling at an annoying frequency, and it doesn’t do much to help the dryness in his mouth, either. He would have tried to order something if it wasn’t damn near impossible to get anyone to deliver to the club, and god forbid Price actually install a proper kitchen. But there would be no use for any sort of kitchen in a place like that, as it’s not good food that makes people swarm to the club like brainwashed zombies. It’s the booze. The music. A quickie in the stall.
Shady activities in an alleyway.
Simon huffs as he tosses the empty chip container in the small bin that sits in the corner of the surveillance room. Monitors upon monitors line the wall on the far side of the room, illuminating the concrete floor with a grey glow as faint music pulses through the air. He hates this room. Small, stuffy, and overheating with the computers and servers; he’d rather be out in the bitter November winter right about now. He’s out of luck tonight, because after nearly two weeks, Johnny’s research has finally bore fruit.
About time, too. All Simon has been able to think about for the last few days has been you. Sometimes when he closes his eyes, he can still see the outline of your body that’s ingrained in his mind. Your limp, exhausted form as you rested in the conversation pit — too overwhelmed to keep conscious. He doesn’t know why you haunt him so terribly. Perhaps Mrs. Price is to blame; she knows how he never likes leaving a job half done.
Or maybe it’s because you’re so… peculiar. For a woman he could only describe as being a skittish cat, you’ve suddenly melted into some other version of yourself. Your dislike of his proximity to you was obvious. Short words, awkward exchanges, yet the impulsive need to constantly get even with him, like you were trying to sweep up the breadcrumbs that lead to your door so he couldn’t follow you home.
However, when he visited you a few days ago to check on your hands — as promised — you seemed to be a whole new person. Well, not entirely. If you were the world’s most skittish cat before, you had now become the feral stray that would maybe eat out of the palm of his hand if he didn’t look at you while you did it. He would ask you questions and you would respond with something more than simple words or an uneasy, anxiety induced joke.
I’m just… glad you’re not doing it just for me.
He still wonders what you meant by that.
“Hey, you paying attention?” Johnny quips.
Simon blinks the glaze out of his eyes — one which still carries a now greenish-yellow hue around his cheekbone — and pushes the thoughts of you out of his mind as his attention fully settles on the monitors in front of him. A chair squeaks as Johnny settles back against worn, faux leather. He’s already got everything loaded up for whatever presentation he’s about to give.
“Waitin’ on you, Johnny,” Simon playfully retorts.
“Right,” he replies, rubbing his hands together, “so I’ve been trying to do some research on your dance partner here, and he’s a slippery fucker. Whoever he is, he’s good at covering his tracks up. At least through the methods I use to find people. Nothin’ on the media or anythin’ like that. Might as well not exist at all in the tech world.”
A hum rumbles in Simon’s throat as he crosses his arms. “You drag me in here just to tell me you found nothing?”
Johnny’s neck cranes to the side where he then looks up at him with a smirk. “Come on, Riley, when have I ever wasted your time?”
Both men turn their attention back to the monitor as Johnny begins to wind and rewind through footage from a few days ago. Everything happens fast; speedy bodies darting across view, and the comedic speed up of light snow falling on the ground, but not sticking. Static streaks across the screen as the footage warps, before it suddenly pauses again.
“Since I wasn’t able to find anything on this guy, I decided to sleuth through this video again, and I found something a little odd about this bloke here,” Johnny explains as he points to a male figure. Whoever it is, they’re faced away from the camera with their hands shoved deep into their pockets to stave off the cold. “He enters the alley before your pal does…”
The video plays at normal speed, and the faceless man vanishes behind the brick corner of the building a few meters down, just as Johnny described. He fast forwards, and everything plays at triple speed. Simon’s seen it all before. The man who accosted you enters the alleyway, and then you unfortunately come across him a bit later, but then something happens that he hadn’t bothered to pay attention to before.
The man Johnny pointed out leaves the alley, this time facing the camera. He’s fiddling with something in his hands, and upon closer inspection, Simon’s able to tell it’s a wad of cash. It’s quickly stowed away in his pocket, and that’s when Johnny pauses the video.
“He leaves as soon as Chip arrives, shovin’ cash into his pocket like he struck a deal,” he concludes.
Tense fingers grip the back of the office chair as Simon leans over Johnny’s shoulder, squinting at the face on the screen. He scrutinizes every detail possible through the fuzzy footage, and his jaw flexes as he huffs. Square jaw, visible stubble, and eyes just as shifty as his character.
“He looks familiar,” Simon mutters.
“He outta. Fucker works here,” Johnny drops.
A rancid, sour taste floods the back of Simon’s throat at that revelation, and his fingers tense to the point the imitation leather of the chair threatens to crack beneath his grip. Fury rises in the dark irises of his eyes as he leans back and grumbles. It seems like such a simple detail to miss. Something that he should have caught on to the other night, even in his sleep deprived state. If he had, he would have been several leaps closer to the real issue ages ago.
“Who is he?” Simon demands.
“Marcel Wylder,” Johnny answers as he twists in his chair to face him. “Works part time as one of the bartenders in the VIP lounge. Only really works on weekends, and according to the floor manager, he’s a good kid. Only twenty three years old. Always shows up on time, things of that sort.”
“Good kids don’t meddle with men who like to scare women in alleyways,” Simon retorts.
Johnny shrugs. “Guess we all have our dark sides… some more dark than others.”
It takes a few more moments for Simon to finally get himself to look away from the screen, and his eyes land on Johnny with a malice not meant for him. He’s not quite sure why this revelation angers him so. The sting of failure pricks at his skin too violently for him to ignore it.
“He here tonight?” he then asks.
“Yeah, he’s working on the second floor right now. Or, at least that’s where he was last, according to the cameras,” Johnny answers. He pauses to lick his lips and tilt his head at Simon. “You’re brewing something up in that head of yours. None of it looks too cheerful.”
Swarthy eyes glare back at the monitor as Simon commits this new face and name to memory. Marcel Wylder. Twenty three. Square jaw. Stubble. Thin eyes.
“Thanks for the intel, Johnny,” is all Simon says as he turns on his heels and walks towards the exit.
A high pitched squeak echoes off the dull white walls of the room as Johnny spins in his chair to watch him leave. All he can make out are straight set shoulders, clenched fists, and an aura that demands blood.
“Go easy on the kid!” Johnny calls after him, his voice too saccharine to truly mean it.
There are very rare times when Simon Riley feels like a savior, but he can’t deny the fact that he feels like Moses when he’s walking through John’s club. All it takes is a single glance or a firm hand on someone’s shoulder, and the mass of pulsing bodies splits for him like the Red Sea.
This trend continues as he jogs up the wrought iron spiral staircase that leads up to the second floor, and his path to Marcel is highlighted by the mob of patrons crowding the bar. He looks nicer tonight than he did the other night, and his square jaw almost appears defined now that he’s shaved that fuzz off of his face. Pristine dress clothes mark him as a perfect employee as he quickly fills orders and stuffs tips in his pocket all with a thankful smile. Doesn’t look like he’s doing half bad for himself, considering there’s a near topless woman serving booze next to him.
“Marcel!”
Simon’s voice booms louder than the bass of the music, and is so sharp all other sounds nearly seem to cease for a moment. That pathetic sod glances up from his work like a schoolboy being scolded, and his face grows pallid. All it takes is a simple gesture of his fore and middle fingers to get the man to slip from behind the bar and join him in the crowd. Smart kid. Everyone knows not to mess with Riley.
He leads the boy out behind the building like a lamb to slaughter. Just like a good offering, he’s quiet. Hardly questions anything besides an is everything alright? to which Simon doesn’t respond. Frigid wind attempts to cut through the formidable fabric of Simon’s clothes, but it seems to really do a number on Marcel. Hardly even ten seconds out the door and the poor boy is wrapping his arms around himself and trying hard not to shiver lest he look pathetic in front of the head of security.
A flickering security light is the only source of illumination in the shady alley, and even in the bleakness of the winter the garbage spoils and festers with a stomach-churning odor. Marcel stands cornered with his back to the wall, and he watches with trepidation as Simon’s hand dives into his pocket. Relief doesn’t fill his face until he realizes it was only a pack of cigarettes he was searching for, and not something nefarious.
The cancer-stick sits at home between Simon’s lips as he lights it and puffs out a steady stream of smoke until it’s well lit. A gentle breeze whisks it away into the air where it quickly dissipates among the smog smothered stars. Once he’s satisfied, he holds the pack out toward Marcel.
“You smoke?” he asks.
“Yes sir,” Marcel answers.
Simon shakes the pack, and a smile pulls at the boy’s lips.
“Cheers.”
As Marcel’s trembling hands work on igniting the lighter, Simon takes a better look at him. There’s hardly a single scar on him, and his hands are much too soft to truly be a part of any violent syndicate. Still, anyone can be a mole, even if they’re a smoothed face kid. Besides, he’s got a Brummie accent, and Simon fucking hates Birmingham.
“What d’ya do outside of workin’ here?” Simon asks. It’s kind enough. Simple, polite conversation — but there’s nothing civil about the look in his eyes as he chews on the filter of his cigarette.
“School, mostly,” Marcel replies.
Simon hums. “Uni?”
“Greenwich.”
“Smart.”
Another exhale of smoke dances between Simon’s lips as he huffs, dark eyes still trained on Marcel. He’s damn near shivering out of his skin as the black fabric of his uniform is designed to whisk away sweat and keep you cool in warm, humid temperatures. No matter, the boy can warm up soon enough — Simon intends for this interaction to be quick.
“Since you’re a smart kid, you’ll do well to be truthful with me then, yeah?” Simon prompts as he flicks a bit of ash onto the ground. “That bloke you met up with the other night? Who is he?”
Trembling muscles suddenly freeze, and the cigarette seems stuck against Marcel’s lips. There’s no exhale of smoke, or the embers brightening at the tip to show he’s inhaling; there’s nothing.
“Bloke?” he repeats.
“The fucker you met up with in the alley a week or two ago,” Simon snaps, already impatient.
Marcel jumps and the cigarette falls free from between his lips and fingers. It sputters and whines on the ground, where the boy quickly puts it out of its misery by stomping on the embers until they’re no longer glowing.
“Right, erm, Andrei I think it was.”
“And what did he want?” Simon presses.
“Well, he had this picture of someone. Some bitch he didn’t want hanging around here I suppose. Was asking me questions about her and stuff,” Marcel replies earnestly.
A bright pink dusts the tips of Simon’s ears, but it’s impossible to tell if it’s from the cold biting his skin, or the rage boiling through his veins. “What did she look like?”
“She was dressed mostly in black, kind of similar to our serving uniforms. It looked like it was taken through the window of some restaurant, but I don’t know which one, I swear.”
Sapori. Teeth nearly cut through the filter of the cigarette as Simon’s jaw clenches, and he rips the thing out of his mouth to toss it on the ground, not even bothering to stomp it out. This man — this Andrei — is getting too close to you for comfort. He thinks back to the way you reacted in the alley; how petrified you were. A terrible thought plagues his mind as he wonders what else has been done to you to get you to fear someone so terribly.
Simon doesn’t like where his mind is wandering.
“What questions did he ask about her?” Simon continues.
“Dunno, just regular stuff? I suppose? Like when she was here and who she was with. Things like that,” Marcel answers.
Simon raises an eyebrow. “And?”
“And I told him the truth. About how she was here on Halloween. I mean, I didn’t see much of her so there wasn’t a lot I could tell him. Honest. I think he was mostly looking for confirmation that she was here at all. He didn’t ask for anything else after that and sent me on my way.”
Acid eats away at Simon’s stomach as the chips he ate before this seem to have a hard time settling with the heavy ire disrupting his mood. Dense feet scrape against the ground as he takes a few steps closer to Marcel, who puts his hands up in defense as if that’s going to do anything against the raging storm barreling straight for him.
“That’s it, that’s everything, honest! I swear!” he pleads.
“I know. I believe you,” Simon says through gritted teeth.
Worn knuckles crash into the tense flesh just underneath Marcel’s sternum, stealing the very breath from his lungs. He sputters miserably as his back crashes against the brick wall behind him, but no matter how hard he tries, he can’t breathe. A deep purple hue stains his face as his body begins to jolt and spasm uncontrollably. It’s impossible to keep himself upright with the wind knocked out of him, and he slowly slides onto the ground with his hands over his stomach like he’s trying to stop blood flowing through a wound.
“You’re a smart boy, so listen close,” Simon says as he crouches to Marcel’s new height. “Be careful who you call a bitch ‘round here, because if I hear you refer to a woman like that again, I’ll knock your goddamn teeth out, ya hear?”
Still sputtering and heaving, Marcel nods.
“Good. Now, that woman Andrei showed you? Forget her. She doesn’t exist to you. If he comes ‘round here again askin’ about it, you tell him you haven’t seen her, because you won’t. You’ve got nothin’ for him, yeah? Nod,” Simon continues, and Marcel complies. “If anyone ever starts askin’ about any of our patrons or workers, you bring that shit right to me. Don’t you ever go ‘round behind my fuckin’ back again. You think there’s anything that happens here that I don’t know about? Huh?”
After an eternity of struggle, Marcel is finally able to get a good gasp in, and a few subsequent breaths after that. That bright purple begins to fade from the paleness of his face, and he quivers and shakes his head.
“N-No sir,” he stutters. “Sor-ry…”
“Good, and don’t fuckin’ forget that.”
Simon pushes himself up to his feet and looks down at Marcel as he writhes and chokes on his achy diaphragm. He haphazardly digs around his pocket for his pack before he retrieves a single cigarette and tosses it toward the pathetic lump of a man at his feet. It bounces on the slimy ground before rolling to a stop with specks of dirt sticking to the filter — a shitty attempt at an apology.
“Take a breather, then get back to work,” he orders while he turns to leave, but Simon only gets a few steps away before he pauses. A stiff finger points at Marcel as his attention is quickly brought back to the boy. “Keep in mind, that’s not even half of what I’ve got.”
Marcel’s pathetic response is drowned out by the uproar of music that fills Simon’s ears as he returns back inside of the club. A thick wall of heat melts the frost off of his skin as his brooding figure cuts through the crowd like a hot knife through butter. His blood continues to boil with clenched fists and heavy breaths. It’s all consuming. Swallowing him whole. Simon doesn’t like being angry. He feels too much like his late father, and sometimes he fears that he looks like him, too.
Violent, angry, sinister — his intimidating build and threatening demeanor have always been something he’s tried to fight against. A stereotype he’s been trying to break. Yet now that he’s gotten one step closer to uncovering the monsters hiding in your shadows, he’s grateful for it. For once, it’s a tool he can use to his advantage.
Something he can use to help you.
Except while Simon is busy taking baby steps through this web of lies, you’re already in the maw of the beast. Frayed string tangles around your fingers as trembling hands attempt to keep themselves busy with a solo game of Cat’s Cradle. It’s already the 25th again, and just like every other month, you’re in perfect position. Sitting properly on a bench with a wad of cash tucked neatly into the envelope that sits inconspicuously on your lap. This is a dance you know well. A dance you don’t think you’ll ever be free from.
Washers and dryers hum around you and clash terribly with the ringing of your ears and the violent pounding of your heart. Trepidation plagues you worse than it usually does on your payment days because you don’t know how Marco is going to react about what Simon did to Andrei. You keep going through possibilities in your mind. Things you need to say to keep him off of Simon’s trail. Ways to apologize to keep him from getting upset. You’ve gone through every option your mind can come up with, yet it doesn’t feel like it’s enough. There’s something you’re still missing.
But you’ve run out of time.
Frosty air slices through the warmth of the laundromat and you try your best not to shiver even though you’re already shaking. Marco's cologne drifts along the air, mixing in dissonance with the fragrance of soap and fabric softener. Green eyes scan the small room as he takes note of the single mom folding clothes in the back of the building as her young son watches videos on her phone. It should be comforting to know that you’re not alone — but you’ve learned that you’re never safe, not even when all the cameras in the city are trained on you.
Your attention stays firmly on your hands as Marco waltzes up and makes himself at home next to you on the bench. The scent of him scorches your nose as his arm wraps around your shoulders. You try not to jump as he involuntarily pulls you closer to him, and you find your fingers clamping down hard on the string in your hands.
“Long time, no see,” he greets.
He’s friendlier than he normally is, and that terrifies you. His thumb rubs at your arm through the fabric of your jumper and you feel your heart leap up into your throat. He knows. He knows, and you’re about to pay for it.
“Did you hear about our good friend, Andrei? Got scuffed up pretty bad the other night,” Marco then prompts.
You swallow your heart down your throat and back into your chest. “Is he alright?”
“Define alright,” he hums. Long legs spread apart and bump into your thigh, crowding you further like he’s trying to lock you in a cage of flesh. “Busted lip, broken nose. Face is so goddamn swollen he sounds like he’s got a cold.”
Images of Andrei’s face from the other night sear your mind. Bright red blood trickling down his lips, an appalled expression on his face as if he had never met anyone able to put him in his place before. You should have known then that you wouldn’t walk away unscathed from something like that. You never do.
“What were you even doing there, anyway? At that club?” Marco then asks.
“I was delivering food,” you answer truthfully.
“You a delivery driver now? Thought you were a waitress,” he digs.
“Hostess…” you correct.
“Who were you delivering to?”
“My friend… her husband owns the club and she was hungry… so… I, well…” you lie.
Firm fingers dig into your arm as Marco pulls you closer, and you try to keep your bottom lip from trembling. “Ah, right. John fucking Price.”
Shocked, you finally bring yourself to look at him. There’s faint amusement on his face as he stares at the washers in front of him. A mixture of soapy water and colorful clothes dance around in the machine as it gently spins and agitates the fabric.
“You know him?” you venture to ask.
A smirk pulls on his lips as he turns his attention to you, and your blood screams at how close his face is to yours. “Don’t worry about that, babe.”
His eyes capture yours in a way that makes it impossible to look away, like you’re an unfortunate deer caught in the headlights of a car. He wanders down. Down, down, down until he catches sight of the unmarked envelope on your thighs. He grabs it and isn’t at all courteous about where his fingers brush in the process.
“How did that guy even know you were in that alley? The man who fought with Andrei?” Marco asks.
As he waits for your response, he hits the envelope against the top of your thigh as if he’s bored. Tap, tap, tap. Each time it touches you, you feel your stomach twist.
“I, uhm, asked the same thing. Said he heard us. Thought I needed help. Guess he was the bouncer outside the VIP entrance during that time. M-My friend said he’s the head of security,” you reply, weaving truth and lies seamlessly together.
“Yeah, I know who the bastard is,” Marco mutters in reply.
Something in you wants to press him for an explanation of what he means, but you keep your lips sealed as he folds up the envelope and shoves it into the pocket of his jeans. Your gaze finally breaks away from him as you glance down at your hands. They’re almost fully healed — nothing but faint scars and scabs. You untangle the string from your fingers as you begin to wind it up, hopeful that he’ll leave soon.
“Well, it doesn't matter. I’m sure it was all one big misunderstanding. No use in getting worked up over it, pet,” he sighs. A pause follows his words, one that’s interrupted by quiet giggling of the child still playing on his mothers phone as she folds clothes somewhere to your right. “Still, some damage was done. Andrei’s been an annoying fuck ever since the altercation. As much as I would love to let you get off easy, it doesn’t really look too good if I’m letting some sweet, pretty thing walk all over me, now does it?”
Your eyes flutter shut as he speaks, and you attempt to mentally prepare yourself for whatever blow he’s about to deal to you. Of course it was naive to think you’d get out of this easily. In fact, you had planned to be hurt in some type of way. All you wanted to do was throw Marco off of Simon’s trail, and though it feels like you’ve succeeded for now, you’re not quite sure if you even accomplished that much.
“It doesn’t,” you pitifully agree.
Marco smirks. “Because of that, your monthly payments will be increased by five hundred starting next month.”
The very blood coursing through your veins turns to ice, and tears blur your vision when you open your eyes. Five hundred. A brutal panic wreaks havoc in your chest. You want to sob, and scream, and thrash but his hand is still on your arm, keeping you chained to him. Gluttonous fingers stain your skin and his leg is still pressed against yours and you can feel the disgusting warmth of his body and you can’t. You can’t. You want to rage, but you’re cornered and trapped, and there’s nothing you can do about it.
“B-But that’s… that’s fifteen hundred a month, I… I’ve hardly- I can’t make that.”
You’re crying now, and you hate it. Hate how weak and pathetic you are. White hot tears cook your cheeks as they travel down your face, and you’re trying your best not to hiccup. Suddenly, you’re a kid all over again. Fawning, trying not to flinch as his hand reaches for your jaw to turn your face to him. His breath smells minty as it fans across the wet streaks on your face — he’s so close you can almost taste the menthol. There’s a small frown on his lips, something that almost looks sincere, but his eyes are too hungry for it to be real.
“Look at you,” he shushes. His hand moves up to cup your cheek as his arm keeps steady and firm around your shoulders.“Getting all upset over this? If it means that much to you, we can always negotiate lower, babe.”
It takes an eternity for his lips to meet yours, and once they do, everything freezes. The only thing you can comprehend is the ringing in your ears and warm shame on your skin. It’s degrading. Humiliating. A terrible reminder that you’ve never really belonged to yourself. Never really belonged to anyone or anything but him.
Things get worse when his tongue pushes past your lips. Everything becomes ten times louder — the washers and dryers, the video on that damn phone, Marco’s slight moan against your skin. You make a pitiful attempt to fight back by pressing your hands on his chest, but he only pulls you closer, holding you tight like a coiling snake.
Something in you demands blood. You feel obligated to bite down, to sink your teeth into his tongue until the mint in your mouth is replaced with iron and copper. When you were a kid, your dad taught you how to throw a punch. You wonder what he would think if he saw you now, too afraid to fight back.
Once he’s had his fill of your fear, Marco pulls away, but you still can’t breathe. Using his thumb, he wipes a stray tear from your face, and you can tell by his slick snicker that he savors the feeling.
“For that, we’ll drop it down to three fifty,” he whispers. He places another kiss against your lips — something chaste and quick — before he releases you and stands to his feet. “See you next month, pet.”
Marco leaves just how he arrived — with a gust of bitter, frigid wind. He’s taken something from you that you won’t get back, and it’s left you feeling empty on that bench. So void, so barren of anything, that you can’t even bring yourself to move. All you can do is sit there and curse yourself for being just as worthless as the day you were when you first got yourself stuck in this mess.
Shuffling sounds on your right, and you nearly jump out of your skin and look up at the source of the sound. It’s that lady and her son. You’d nearly forgotten about them. A small basket of neatly folded clothes sits on her hip as she’s holding the boy's hand to lead him out of the laundromat. There’s a look of disgust on her face, like she can smell every single sin that’s ever been forced upon you. As if you are at fault for the grotesque display of affection you were made to endure.
As she exits, you try not to think about why she didn’t help you. If anything, you’re grateful for it. No more favors. No random acts of kindness. It never turns out well. No good deed ever goes unpunished. Instead, you rise to your feet a few minutes after she leaves, wiping your face clean before you brave the cold streets of London to make your way back home. You promise yourself that once you get home, you’ll wash your mouth out with soap, and then call Sapori to see if you can pick up an extra shift for tonight.
No matter what, you can’t take Marco’s offer — that terrible promise he made you all those years ago. Maybe one day you won’t have a choice, but for now, you’re content on working until your hands bleed.
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MAKE ME PROUD
word count — 1351
summary — you decide to surprise your girlfriend on her birthday by flying to see her play in the wnba for the first time
pairing — kate martin x fem!reader
warnings — nothing really besides fluff!
bri yaps — in honor of my best girls birthday is a present to all my kate martin lovers out there. also this is probably ass… i made it at 1 am with no motivation
Your palms were sweaty and your nerves were shot through the roof. You’d have had this trip planned since the beginning of the season due to your busy schedule back at home and the inability to take off from work, which Kate understood and was never upset by but you knew deep down she wanted her number one supporter to be in the stands cheering her on. So you decided as a partial birthday gift that you’d show up to a game without her knowing—a complete surprise to her.
You remembered that the last time you got to spend true time with her was before and after the WNBA draft. You two plus Gabbie, Jada, and Caitlin had all gone exploring around NYC and seen a bunch of landmarks before appearing on SNL with Caitlin, which had been a cool experience for all of you. Then getting to see her be drafted to the back-to-back champs and hard-launching your relationship on national television in the truest and purest way. After that, you two had to spend a day together as a final ‘goodbye’ that included dinner and lounging the day away while also getting her packed up for the trip to Vegas.
Another bonus for you in this situation was that her teammates had taken a liking to her and protected her as their own—their rookie. So when you shared the idea with her fellow teammates Alysha Clark and A’ja Wilson, they were quick to jump on board and help you. You’d been pacing back and forth in your hotel room for some time and texted Kate as you normally would but it startled her when you turned off your location the day prior, she never asked why but questioned to herself what you were up to.
You decided to get dressed. The outfit spread out on the chair was a black and silver Kate Martin jersey, a black short sleeve underneath, and a pair of black shorts. Your phone started to ring, and Kate’s contact popped up along with your personal favorite photo of her with her nephew Carson.
“Hi baby!” She greeted you cheerfully over the phone when you answered. Your giggle sounded through the speakers and you knew she had a bright smile on her face.
“Hey K, I thought you’d be practicing by now.” You questioned it as you heard balls being thrown in the background when they’d slam against the court.
“Snuck away to call you. I was wondering what you were up to.” Her tone was suspicious, but you decided to wave it off and answer in the best way you could.
“Nothing really. Work was pretty tiring, so I might eat and head to bed earlier than usual.” You sighed out, and she paused for a moment on the other end before you heard her shuffling.
“Well, I wish you were here! I miss you too much.” She admits with a chuckle at the end which makes your heart swell a bit. All you wanted was to say that you were here and jump into her arms, then never let go but unfortunately you wanted this to be a surprise. “The best birthday gift would be you.”
“I know, honey, I know. I love you.” You say and decide to finish up the call so you can head out. You grabbed your keys and left the dingy hotel room to drive to the arena where the game was being held, it was Aces vs. Wings and had been sold out for a while. It wasn’t a long drive and only lasted about ten minutes, but parking took longer than that. As you entered the arena and found your seat right behind the Aces bench, Alysha found you and waved lowly so you wouldn’t be found out so soon.
The game would start soon enough, and Kate still hadn’t spotted you in the many faces, but it didn’t bother you much because you were able to watch her come off the bench and earn meaningful minutes with an already well established group. She found her place and showed what she was good at, whether it was on defense or offense. Since it was an away game, she was in the white jersey that you preferred over the black. She had retired her signature braid and opted for a ponytail. Once in a while, you would get up out of your seat to cheer her on and yell out her name.
The fourth quarter was rowdy, and it had become a close game between the two teams. It was in the Aces possession, and Jackie was trying to run the time out while they still had the ball. She passed it to Kelsey, who then passed it to A’ja. Your leg bounced up and down as Kate was open in the corner, and A’ja shot the ball down to Kate. In the last seconds, as the buzzer sounded, she shot it and made the three which helped her team secure the lead even further and you guys won the game. You jumped up out of your seat and celebrated amongst the people in your row, shouting, “That’s my girl!”
Many people started making their way out of the arena, and some stopped on the court to talk to the players including Kate, who had a line. A sense of pride overwhelmed you while you watched her interact with everyone. It was clear how much she was loved and respected by the Aces fans. You walked behind a crowd of people to where Kate was and watched Syd, KB, and Alysha pull their phones out to record the moment. You slowly tapped on her shoulder, causing her to quickly turn around. She tried to register for a moment and process before her jaw slacked open.
“Happy birthday, baby!” You greet her and wrap your arms around her neck. Her arms immediately fall to your waist, and she lifts you up and spins you around the court. Laughs and giggles were heard from her teammates, and the fans were still watching the two of you with the biggest smile on their faces. “Alright, I’m getting a little dizzy here.” You say jokingly, but she does listen and puts you down, still burying her face into your next and tightly hugging you. Being in her arms just felt like you were right at home, and you never wanted to let go in fear of losing this moment forever.
“You don’t know how happy I am to see you.” She whispers softly into your ear and it sends butterflies to your stomach.
“Better than glitchy facetime calls.” You joke, and she lets out a snort which causes you to giggle. She finally lifts her head to get a good look at you, her eyes were the deepest blue you’d ever seen them be, and her lips were curled into a bright smile that you could never get tired of. Finally, you decide to close the gap between the two of you and press your lips against hers, the kiss being delicate and sweet as your fingertips rest against her cheek before you pull back and she gently rubs your hips for a second.
“God, you’re so perfect.” She pinches your side before interlocking her hand with yours and leading you into the team’s tunnel. You relished in the moment with her and completely forgot about everything else as you two talked about the excitement of the game, what she did to celebrate with the team for her birthday, and what the two of you would do before you had to go back home.
You watched her silently as she shared her experiences and stories so far from her month in Vegas. Memories flooded through you, and this reminded you why it was all worth it—you got to watch your girlfriend live out her dreams. With a contended sigh, you stood on your tiptoes to give her a kiss on the cheek before she had to go into the locker room to change.
“Kate Martin, you’ll be the death of me.”
#kate martin#kate martin x reader#las vegas aces#wnba#iowa wbb#a’ja wilson#wlw#kate martin fic#kate martin fluff
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Dirty Work 54
Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as bullying, familial discord/abuse, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: You start a new gig and find one of your clients to be hard to please.
Characters: Loki
Note: I am back to work tmrw.
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.
I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖
You choose a simple dress. You like the shade of peach even as Loki eyes you archly. It might not be the choice that offends him but the state of yourself. Your nose is still healing, bandaged but not as heavily, and you have much left to recover. His own injuries remain tinged on his pale skin.
You shimmy the dress on and turn your back to him as he drones cynically. His fingers creep up along your bottom to meet the zipper and he tugs it up slowly. He’s reluctant.
“What is it? You don’t like the dress?” You face him.
“I’d rather prefer you naked,” he purrs with a wink, “but I am not overly fond of the colour, no.”
“Oh, but... you bought it?”
“Yes, my sister did have it included in the purchase but... it is rather bright.”
“I like it,” you run your hands over your stomach and hips, “it fits nicely but if you want me to change...”
“No, darling, do what you wish,” he crosses his arms, “I must learn to let you do so.”
You narrow your eyes. His malleability does not come without resentment. You shrug. You don’t have all day to be sussing out his preference.
“What is it you and my mother have planned?” He asks.
“I’m not certain,” you say as you search for your phone. The one he gave you.
“No? Hm, darling, what about a necklace?” He goes to the jewellery box and plucks out a golden chain with a peridot emblem.
“I guess,” you dig around in your work bag, most of your luggage still unpacked.
“You guess? It is a pretty necklace. What about amethyst?”
“Loki,” you fish out your phone but not the one you meant to. Your old flip.
You put it down on the nightstand stiffly and return to your search. It feels so long ago that you were that person. That sad girl living with your father and flitting through a meandering existence. You won’t say you’ve moved up very much, still at the whim of a man, but you feel distant from that person.
Perhaps Walpurgisnacht was more a rebirth than you could know.
“Pet...” Loki comes closer as you retrieve your work phone. It’s dead.
“I need to charge it,” you show him the device.
“You should toss the old one. Doubt it even works.”
“I know, I will. I have to back it up,” you say evasively. There’s not much on it but it’s the only connection you still have to your previous life. You’re not ready to slice through that last strand.
“Mm, right then, well, another to do for the list,” he steps nearer and tickles your waist, “suppose you delay your little outing with my mother and I take you to lunch--”
“She’s a guest, and your mother,” you rebuke. “Loki, I’m only doing what I need to do. Isn’t that what you want?”
He sighs, “yes, but... it is still my house. I would like more than my leave. I should say when you need go pick out flowers or tablecloths or whatnot.”
“Proposals typically lead to all that,” you say, “at least from what I know.”
“What you know?” He muses.
“Yeah, I’ve seen a few Kate Hudson movies,” you quip and give a goofy smile but quickly repress it. “Sorry, that wasn’t... funny.”
His cheeks dimple and his nostrils flair, his lips slightly curved, “is that... humour? From you?”
“Well, I... yeah, why not?”
“Hm, it isn’t a slight but you are not one for laughter.”
“Or maybe you’ve never made me laugh,” you blurt out and quickly snap your mouth shut.
His brows drop and his smile too. You stare at him. Oops. You are getting to comfortable. Even if you are to be his wife, you aren’t his equal. You don’t know that you could ever be.
He chuckles, “darling, how very sharp.” He reaches to frame your chin and turns you to him completely, “I should try harder then, to hear your sweet laughs.”
You smile, a flutter in your chest, “that’s sweet.”
“I am sweet,” he says, offended. “What do you mean?”
You just stare at him. Is he kidding?
“Don’t,” he warns with a frown. “Very well, go, have fun. Should I need anything, I will be certain to let mother know since you will be without tether...” he keeps his hand on you, squeezing, “you will be safe with her, I know.”
“Loki,” you murmur, “he’s not coming back. He wouldn’t.”
He stares at you solemnly, “no, he shouldn’t.”
It seems as if he doubts his own words. For a moment, you do too. He knows his brother much better. Yet, how can Thor return when all have turned their backs on him?
“There is no hurry, mother can wait...”
“Loki, she’s only visiting,” you remind him, “the sooner it’s done, the sooner they go, right?”
“Mm, you are clever,” he looks past you with apprehension, “suppose so. And I should speak with father about some things...” he leans in and kisses your forehead, withdrawing absently as he taps his fingertips together, “weddings and such...”
You give him a look but he’s too distracted to notice. This whole affair is his idea and yet he is uncertain. You watch him placidly.
“We don’t have to... marry--”
“No, no,” he returns his attention to you, “of course we must. We will—how could you—oh, I know it is all very new to you, pet, but trust in me. It isn’t my first rodeo. Regrettably.”
You feel a pang at the allusion to his previous marriage. You remember Sif with her sleek figure and her perfect smile and her sparkling eyes. You are second in all ways to her.
“I should go,” you insist with a sniff.
“Mm, yes, you should,” he grabs your shoulders and lays another kiss, this time on your lips. “I have told mother very strictly not to dawdle so you shouldn’t either.”
“We’ll be fine,” you assure him.
“When did you get so confident,” he teases as he retracts from you.
You offer a sheepish smile. Not confident, but hopeful. A change nonetheless.
✨
Frigga insists on lunch before you do anything. You’re struck with deja vu as she returns to that same place you went to with her sons. That day feels like eons ago but it’s been just over a month.
The change feels all the more sudden after a lifetime of stagnancy. With your dad, every day blurred together, the constancy was as dull as it was oppressive. Yet, you mourn it all the same. The spontaneity and turbulence of your new existence proves just as paralysing at times.
You may have gone from maid to fiancee, but it doesn’t dissolve your expected deference. You are marrying into the Odinsons, they have no need to ingratiate themselves to you. Even as the reminder of her elder son troubles you, you will not mention your worries aloud to the matriarch.
Frigga orders a sparkling water with fruit, you ask for the same. The waitress is not subtle as she eyes your bandaged nose. Just another reason for you to feel out of place. It's tender but feels much better.
You peer up at the sky as you sit in the open patio and the scent of the curated flowers around the space wafts in the air. Your dress rustles and tickles your leg, causing you to flinch. Another flash of before. That day you ate with Thor at your side, his hand under the table...
You shudder and blow away the memory. You reach for your water and sip as you look over the entrees. Your appetite is erratic. One second you’re ravenous, the next, nauseous. The tuna sounds good but sickening at once. You’ll get a salad.
“We will have to plan an engagement party first. Perhaps a local venue for that,” she looks at her phone and turns it on its screen as you hear it buzzing.
“Or the house? I thought... the gazebo...”
“Mm, yes, I recall, what was the name of that contractor you hired? I wouldn’t mind a similar build back at our house. Oh, and perhaps if you did want to do the wedding at home as well, a wedding arch might be a thought. I’m certain a carpenter might be up to that task,” she continues, ignoring how her phone rattles her glass. “So, we’ll skip over venues then. But invitations, perhaps? Oo, do you have a dress in mind? A brunch or something in the evening?”
You can hardly keep up with her questions. At least she offers distraction from the shadow looming over your shoulder. Both of them. If it isn’t one son, it’s the other.
The waitress returns and you order. Frigga eyes you as she puts in for a monte cristo with the soup du jour. You try to smile. You’re tired.
“Are you okay, dear? You’ve not been eating very much.”
“Oh, haven’t I?” You squirm evasively. “I’m... fine, I guess I just have a lot on my mind.”
“Oh, darling, forgive me if I am overloading you,” she fans herself with her hand, “I apologise. I’ve a bad habit of getting head over feet about these things. I have so many ideas all at once but if I sit still, I feel I might burst.”
Her words call you back to Loki pacing and circling at the hotel, then at home, he manic muttering.
“It’s alright. I don’t think of any of it. I don’t know where to begin,” you assure her.
“Ah, well, yes, but I’ve had a wedding and my son’s had a wedding already,” she chuckles, “so I do have a bit more experience. You shouldn’t worry terribly if you have questions. I am simply here to guide you.”
“I know--”
Her phone shakes again and she sighs.
“Pardon,” she tilts the phone up and you see the incoming call; Loki. She quickly turns off the ringer. “My, he is a pest. It cannot be that important--”
“I don’t have my phone,” you say, “maybe he needs something.”
“My son can wait. He is so selfish. Especially about you. Surely, he trusts his own mother,” she scoffs, “anyhow, I think a luncheon might be pleasant enough. Perhaps with a theme. Summer is here and the flowers will be lovely this time of season.”
“Excuse me, miss,” the waitress comes up to the table, a cordless phone in her hand, “there’s a gentleman on the phone asking for you.”
You frown at Frigga then glance up, realising the woman is speaking to you. You blink and take the phone from her. You put it to your ear, staring at Frigga.
“Hello?”
“Pet,” Loki bursts eagerly, “oh, I knew you’d be there. Yes, I only wanted to check in, hear your voice, but I couldn’t get through to mother.”
“Oh, uh, yeah, sorry, we were just ordering--”
‘Give me the phone’ Frigga mouths and gestures.
“I...” you begin and her green eyes flare. You hand over the phone.
“Loki, this is not your time. You can wait. We are busy. You have a lovely day and we will be home in a few hours,” she says tritely, “certainly, you might find something to keep yourself busy.”
She doesn’t wait for his response as she hits the end button and hands the phone back to the server, thanking her with a smile. The brunette flits away and you tap your fingers on the table top. Frigga plays with a wave and pushes it behind her ear, “darling, don’t even worry about my son. You just focus on yourself.”
“Thank you, I just...”
“You just don’t worry,” she repeats, “if my son has issue with us doing exactly as we told him we would, then he may take it up with me. Uh, he always was a needy little boy.”
You almost laugh. You might agree with part of her sentiment but you could never imagine Loki as a little boy. In your mind, he just seems as if he’s always been grown. Not like you.
You’ve always felt clueless and inadequate. As if you never moved past childhood, that you got caught behind some wall and watched the adults from afar. Yet, now that you’re on the other side, you still feel a barrier. Like them, but not the same.
Not like the Odinsons especially. A family. You don’t have any of that. The more you think of the wedding, the more you see empty seats. No bridesmaids, not father-daughter dance, no one on your side.
“Dear, have I upset you?” Frigga cuts the silence and you catch yourself staring at the table.
You shake your head and sit up, “no, sorry, just thinking...” you scramble for a lie. You hate that you do that so often now, “what about a tea party?”
“A tea party? Marvelous, I love it,” she trills, “oh, yes, we will have to find some fine porcelain for the event.”
“Loki has lots--”
“Yes, but this is special, dear. You’ll need a special set so you can always remember the party. Oh, and teas. There is a tea shop nearby. They sell loose leaf. We can have a whole array. Ooh, and biscuits, pastries...” she begins to list off. You let her, thankful to forget everything else for the minutest of details. Tea is easy.
#loki#dark loki#dark!loki#loki x reader#fic#dark fic#dark!fic#au#maid au#dirty work#mcu#marvel#avengers#thor#series
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Rooftop.
Pairing: Wonwoo x gn!reader
Genre: I honestly don't know but let's just say crack and a pinch of angst
Warnings: Wonwoo thinks reader is about to commit suicide
Synopsis: You were just trying to get a better look at the sky, but someone misunderstood and tried to save you.
You valued your peace of mind and the best way (in your opinion) to clear your mind was to look at the stars. At the edge of a rooftop.
Yeah, not the smartest idea but who cares!
Technically, anyone was bound to see a random person standing at a rooftop, misunderstand the situation, then call for help. Something you didn't exactly take into account.
And bingo as you had guessed, not only did someone see you, someone was at the same rooftop thinking you were about to jump, and you being at the edge didn't exactly help either.
Out of nowhere, you felt yourself being pulled backwards. Your back was now against the chest of a random stranger, and to make matters worse, on top of him.
"Uh, excuse me?" You were baffled and you didn't really know how to explain without him thinking you were lying "Can you let me go, please?"
No answer.
Oh shit. Is he dead? I don't think I'm that heavy though. You were thinking of the endless possibilities of you being charged for involuntary manslaughter. Great.
You finally feel the person who you thought you murdered move. "Are you okay? Why did you pull me like that? You could've been hurt!" You turned around only to be left awestruck. At least he was handsome.
His eyebrows were furrowed and his breathing was heavy, yeah it isn't the time for flirting. "How could you treat your life like it's something to be toyed with! You can't simply choose to end it because things are getting rough." His tone was stern and angry— but wait.
What? Your mind short-circuited for second. He thought you were doing what!
"What about your loved ones and the people who would blame themselves for your death? At least think about all those variables before treating your life like-"
"Excuse me?! I was just standing like a normal person, looking at the damn sky. I wasn't toying with my life, I was enjoying it!" You were starting to get riled up as well, couldn't he at least wait to hear what you had to say about yourself— and wait, what does he even have to do with it?!
"You shouldn't lie about things like this! If you need help, say it."
There's was no convincing this man. "Listen here stranger, if I needed help I would in fact ask for it. But can't a person watch the fucking sky in peace." You huffed "Why are you even making a big deal out of it? It's not like we know each other."
You pushed his hands which were gripping you away. "At least try to understand, I mean it's not the smartest thing to do, to stand at the edge of a rooftop I mean, but I assure I wasn't trying to do anything you were thinking of."
You had an idea! Not the smartest either but good enough "Want to grab a meal?" If he didn't say yes, you'd bury yourself alive, but you wouldn't have to see him again. If he said yes, you'd resolve that misunderstanding and you could go your separate ways.
He suddenly realized that his body was so tense and his body was still on the ground.
You gulped as he proceeded to get up. His features became more clear. His face had a soft expression but his eyes were sharp, so was his jaw. Yeah, you were right, he was one handsome fellow.
He was weirded out by your spontaneous personality. One moment you were all angry, and the next you were asking him to grab dinner? Yeah, not normal.
"Fine. I'll pretend that I believe you, and we'll go grab dinner. But for the love of god go stargaze anywhere but at the edge. I had the ambulance ready." He scratched his neck.
"Okay Mr. Overdramatic." You laughed, it was a peculiar day, not the peaceful kind you usually preferred, but definitely a day to remember.
"Wonwoo."
"Hm?" You tilted your head in confusion.
"If we're going out for a meal, you might as well know my name." He shrugged.
Yeah, he had split personalities, you were sure of it.
"[name]." You extended your hand "It was nice meeting you here— wait what were you doing up here?!" Your eyes widenened.
"I was stargazing."
"Yeah, no shit. I'll pretend that I believe you." You mimicked him from earlier.
Inspired by that one scene in true beauty.
Reblogs and comments are appreciated!
#wonwoo#wonwoo x reader#wonwoo x you#svt#seventeen#svt imagines#svt scenarios#svt drabbles#svt fanfic#svt x reader#svt crack#svt angst#seventeen x reader#seventeen x you#jeon wonu#jeon wonwoo#wonu#svt wonu#seventeen wonu#seventeen imagines#seventeen scenarios#seventeen crack#caratblr#svt carat#wonwoo angst#kpop ff#kpop imagines#kpop scenarios#svt: wonwoo
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Hi again! Can't pass the opportunity of suggesting a prompt either ^w^ Thanks so much!
V. "I'm a little disappointed. I expected a bit more of a struggle." for the Vampire / Werewolf AU
Thank you so much! I always love your comments, so I hope this is to your taste as well! ❤️
Leader of the pack
Rated: T
Words: 996
Tags: Vampire & Werewolf AU; Vampire Eddie; Kas!Eddie; Werewolf Steve; Eddie Munson Whump; Jason Carver being an asshole; Blood and violence; Nudity; Eddie is having a bad day
“You know,” the hunter says, and his companions snicker. “I'm a little disappointed. I expected a bit more of a struggle.”
“Well, what can I say?” Kas retorts. “You have very convincing arguments.”
He tries to struggle free, but his skin burns at each contact with the net. It’s woven of delicate silver thread. It might as well be made of steel. His grin turns into a pained snarl, lips peeling back to reveal his fangs.
“You flash those all you want,” the hunter drawls. “You won't be able to for long.”
“What?” Kas sneers at him. “You gonna kill me? I'm terrified.”
The hunter smiles sharply.
“Oh, no. I won't kill you yet. I know there's more of you wretched bloodsuckers lurking in the mountains, and you …” One of his hands grabs Kas by the jaw. “You are going to tell me where to find them.”
Kas snaps at him. The man laughs.
“Patrick,” he says to one of his companions. “Give me the pliers. Let's see how he likes biting once we pull out his-”
He doesn't get any further.
Something rustles and before he has a chance to fully turn, a giant, snarling shadow flies out of the darkness and latches on to his throat.
Kas hits the ground. His skull connects with a rock, and the world descends into a blur of teeth and fur and terrified shouts as more shadows lunge from the forest.
When the fog lifts, the hunters are gone. Their cries mingle with the sounds of howls and snarls in the darkness.
In front of him, staring at him with eyes like liquid gold, is a giant, furry beast.
Kas groans, head thunking back against the ground.
“Fucking mutts.”
The wolf huffs something that might be a laugh. Then, it hunches in on itself and the sound turns into a whine. Kas screws his eyes shut to block out the sight of the shift while the wolf’s pained noises mingle with the crunch and slide of muscles and bones rearranging themselves.
“The polite thing to say would’ve been thank you. I thought your kind was known for their good manners.”
When Kas blinks his eyes back open, the wolf is gone. In its place is a young man. His eyes are more hazel than gold, but still sparkling with smug amusement. His hair is the same caramel color as the fur of his other form.
He’s also bumfuck naked.
“Yeah, well,” Kas says, “I thought yours was known for keeping your noses out of the affairs of other races.”
The stranger huffs again. He stands and stretches - a long, graceful ripple of lean muscle - before he twists around to unsling the leather bag strapped to his back.
“We do, usually,” he says, sitting back on his haunches and rifling through its contents. “However, we tend to take it personal when strangers wander into our territory and hunt down our prey. Animals don't grow on trees, y’know?”
Kas stares at him, because … what? Surely this is a joke, because who'd say something like that with a straight face? The answer to that question, evidently, is naked wolf boy right here, because he refuses to even crack a grin.
“Wha-?” is what he finally says. “What animals? I haven't touched any of your precious prey.”
Wolf boy measures him with a long, doubtful look, like he's trying to figure out whether or not to believe him. Finally, he sighs and pulls his hand from the bag. Glinting between his fingers is a long, jagged knife.
Kas hisses.
Wolf boy rolls his eyes. “Are you always that dramatic? I was only gonna cut you loose.”
The knife slices through the thin thread with ridiculous ease, but it still takes a while to free him. Wolf boy needs to be careful to not touch the silver himself, after all - not the easiest of tasks without even a shred of fabric on his body.
“What’s your name?”
This must be the most bizarre conversation of his long, tedious un-life, he thinks. Exchanging smalltalk and platitudes with a naked werewolf while being cut out of a hunter’s net.
“Kas.”
“Bless you,” wolf boy says. Kas can’t see his face, having turned his back to give him better access to the net there, but he doesn’t need to. He can practically see the dorky grin. “What’s it with you vampires and your stupid, made-up fantasy names, huh?”
“It’s a question of style, alright?” he grumbles. “Not like I’d expect you to get it. What’s your pack leader called again? Otis?”
Wolf boy’s hands freeze, but only for a second. Then, the knife gives one final, brisk tug, and Kas can feel the last of the net fall away from his blistered skin. He can’t quite help the relieved sigh that escapes him.
“Anyhow, it was nice meeting you,” he mumbles, rolling his neck and reveling in the feeling of his powers slowly seeping back in. “Have a nice rest of your life, I guess.”
“Huh?” Wolf boy asks. “Oh no, you got that wrong. You’re coming with us.”
Before he even has a chance to ask what that means, something closes around his wrists. This time, the silver is encased in a thick layer of leather, so it doesn’t make his skin blister and burn. It still draws all of his strength right back out, leaving him weak and harmless like a kitten.
“What the actual fuck?” he snarls as wolf boy hoists him to his feet. “Who the hell do you think you are?”
“Funny that you should mention grandpa Otis,” wolf boy says merrily. “He’s been dead for ten years. My name’s Steve, by the way. Sorry if it’s not fancy enough for your taste. Come on now, I hate making my pack wait.”
Kas is powerless to resist as he grabs him by the elbow and walks him towards the myriad of glowing eyes staring at them from the treeline.
Steve said "I'm the alpha" 😅
More celebration ficlets
#steddie#steve x eddie#steve harrington x eddie munson#steddie fanfic#steddie brainrot#fanfiction writer#fanfiction#fanfic#my writing#hype's 1k follower ficlets
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JIKOOK AND THEIR RAINY DAY FIGHT
It’s been a year since Jk officially told us the story (or part of it) of the rainy day fight and i thought we should talk about it for a bit.
To so many people, the rainy day story might just be a fun silly story that two band members told about a silly fight they had but the rainy day story and how it was told by both Jimin and Jungkook told so much much about their bond and about the kind of people they are individually and together.
Last year, Jk went Live and someone asked him about the rainy day story and he told us this:
I really love how detailed Jungkook gets when he tells stories. He doesn’t leave room to context to be added or taken out because he pretty much lays everything on the table.
And then we had Jimin’s own side of the story
One of my favourite things about the rainy day story is that you can clearly tell so much about Jimin and Jungkook’s real dynamics and just how much they mean to each other from listening to them talk about it.
This is something that happened years ago and off camera which they never even spoke about till Jungkook decided to mention it during Festa 2020, and said it was something he still felt sorry about. I think it is important to note that this happened when the boys were still rookie. We don’t know the exact year but i’m guessing it probably happened around 2015 or so and this was the era where many people still believe that Jikook didn’t get along and Jungkook hated Jimin.
So what we know from the story is that the members were all mad at Jungkook because of his tone and the fact that he didn’t listen (he was stubborn) and it was so bad that even Hobi (who is like an angel) got mad at Jungkook too. This point kind of reminds me of the part of the BTS book where Jungkook spoke about how when he was younger, he was sometimes very oblivious to how his words and actions affected those around him.
Jk acknowledged that his tone wasn’t good and that was basically what made the members mad but what is what noting is that, Jimin was the only one who thought it wise to call Jk aside to talk to him. Jimin is a stickler for the rules and some values like respect for the older are important to him so it was important to him that all maknaes showed respect to their hyungs but i guess in the midst of this talk, things got heated and Jimin ended up telling Jungkook that he wouldn’t care for him anymore and Jk can do whatever he likes. He them stormed out and Jk stormed out too.
This part is very important to me because this shows us that unlike what some solos think, Jimin is and has always been very capable of cutting off people who took him for granted. Many solos feel like Jimin is too kind and lets people walk all over him but this isn’t true at all. Jimin is the kindest person ever but he knows where to draw the line. Jimin loves Jungkook with all his being but he wasn’t afraid to threaten to cut him off and not give a damn about him when he felt like Jungkook was being an ass.
Another part that is important to me is that, Jungkook’s actions after Jimin threatened to cut him off and stop caring for him shows that Jimin was important to him. Jimin’s love, affection and care were very important to Jungkook and even if he had never realized just how much they were before this day, he definitely did when he felt like he had lost Jimin’s love. We know from him that he wandered around and got lost because he was angry and hurt and in this vulnerable state and even with the fact that he was mad at Jimin and Jimin was mad at him, Jimin was the only one he thought of calling when he didn’t know his way back home. Jungkook could have called any other member and i am sure all of them would have happily gone to look for him but at that point, the only person Jungkook thought of calling was the one person he just argued with, was mad at and who was mad at him.
Do y’all remember when Jungkook was asked which hyung gave him the most comfort and attention? His answer was Jimin and this story told me just how much of a comfort and solace and safe place Jimin was/is to Jungkook. I say this because, who is the first person you think of calling when you are in trouble or at your most vulnerable? Who is the first person you think or calling when you are sad, lonely and afraid? I think it speaks volumes that the person Jk wanted to talk to more than anyone else at this point was Jimin.
Jk explained that he battled with himself when he tried calling Jimin. He started calling and then hung up asking himself why he should call Jimin, and then repeated the action a few more times before Jimin picked up on one of his other attempts. This also speaks volumes. Jungkook was a stubborn kid and by his own admission, he was proud hence the battle between his rational mind and his pride to call Jimin but we can clearly see that his need to talk to Jimin at that time was stronger than his pride and he could’ve literally taken the easy way out by calling Tae, Hobi, Jin, Namjoon or Suga and they would have happily gone to help him out but he didn’t. This might sound a little dramatic but i think at that point, Jimin was all Jungkook needed and wanted.
We know from Jungkook and Jimin picked up the phone and asked him where he was and Jungkook who had been crying at this point because of his anger, sadness and possibly because he couldn’t find his way back home, couldn’t even get his words out and Jimin had to scold him saying “i told you not to call me” and then Jungkook said he didn’t know where he was.
It is worth noting that Jimin was mad at Jungkook. So mad that he threatened to stop caring for jungkook and walked out on him yet he picked up immediately Jungkook called him. He was mad at Jungkook but his anger couldn’t surpass how much he loved the maknae so much that he immediately softened up the moment he heard him crying and saying he didn’t know where he was. Jimin was immediately ready to go look for Jungkook before Jungkook said he would take a taxi. Any other person (including me) might have gone back into the dorm to wait for Jungkook because it was pouring cats and dogs outside but no….Jimin stood outside in the rain for God knows how long, waiting for Jungkook to get home. (I still don’t understand how Jk solos could hate Jimin lord knows i would be worshipping him because this boy loved Jungkook will his whole heart) Jimin waited for Jungkook outside until Jungkook got there and immediately hugged him when he saw him. They then went to the roof, talked, cried together, Jungkook apologized and promised to do better and it was all smiles after that.
The way Jimin and Jungkook both told this story tells you so much about the kind of people they both are and about how much they mean to each other.
When Jungkook told the story, he took all the blame and didn’t blame Jimin for anything but blamed himself for being immature and rude. When he told the story, he wanted us to understand that he was the cause of the issue and Jimin only acted out of love for him but when Jimin told the story, Jimin didn’t blame Jungkook at all. Infact he didn’t even single Jungkook out to say he was being a little rude, he grouped all the maknaes together and said they all had to be careful with their tones towards the hyungs. Jimin didn’t put the blame on Jungkook like Jk did himself, instead Jimin put the blame on himself by saying that he acted like a “kkhondae” (an older person who thinks they are always right). He took the blame for the whole thing the same way Jk took the blame for the whole thing. Not once did these two point any fingers at each other and this speaks volumes about the kind of people they are. They are thoughtful, sensitive and highly emotionally intelligent. Jungkook wasn’t always like this by his own admission but he learned so much and has grown up so much and no wonder he attributes his thoughtfulness and how considerate he is to Jimin. No wonder in the BTS book, he mentioned that all the members had seeped into him and he was full of Jimin’s actions. It’s also no wonder Jk said Jimin’s charm is his thoughfulness and how considerate he is of others.
They both clearly rubbed off on each other in the best possible ways. They complete each other in so many ways and it is one of the most beautiful things to witness.
Jimin did say he couldn’t tell the whole story and parts of it had to be edited out so i guess there is some important parts they left out for reasons best known them (maybe the were some smooches on the roof but who knows) but what we do know and what they did tell us, speaks volumes.
I have rambled alot but from this little story, i learnt that
-Jimin is and has always been very important to Jungkook. Contrary to what many people have decided to fool themselves with, Jungkook loves and has always loved Jimin as well as any love, care or attention Jimin showed him. These things were important to Jungkook and he didn’t want to lose them. If he didn’t care like many people want to believe, that would have been a perfect opportunity to get Jimin off him for good but instead he did everything in his power to make things right and that included using his tears to soften Jimin’s heart.
-Jimin isn’t a pushover. The man is kind, thoughtful and caring but he isn’t an idiot. He is very capable of walking away from things or people who don’t treat him like he deserves and the proof of that is in the fact that it didn’t take much for him to threaten to take his love away from Jungkook. So before you say Jk treats Jimin like trash and Jimin lets him, remember that in this case, it wasn’t Jimin who went crying and apologizing. Don’t underestimate how tough Jimin’s heart can get.
-Jungkook cares about what Jimin thinks of him way more than he shows. Sometimes he acts aloof or cold but this is just how he deals with his feelings and not that he doesn’t care what Jimin thinks of him. I still remember how he said he teases Jimin alot because he really likes him. Jungkook is such a simple person and so easy to understand, so i don’t know how some people don’t get it.
-Jimin and Jungkook stick up for each other and are protective of each other.
-Jungkook is alot more sensitive than he looks. Many people see Jungkook with his muscles and tattoos and immediately think he is a bad boy who couldn’t give a tiny rats ass about anyone’s feelings but baby is the complete opposite of his looks. He is incredibly sensitive and loves with all his heart. He is the one who talks to bugs and apologizes to fish before cooking them. He is the one who cries when his loved ones cry, he is the one who watches movies and cries when sad things happen and he is the one who cries uncontrollably when he feels like he is at the risk of losing the love of one of his favourite hyungs.
The rainy day story taught me that these two love each other so much and have a deeper bond that we will ever know. They don’t only have a physical closeness but an emotional one. Jimin is Jungkook’s comfort and safe place and if this wasn’t evident from the rainy day story, it is evident in how these two have consistently chosen to be together in the most important moments of their lives.
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Twisted Wonderland Boys x Fem Reader in their respective Fairytales (Series)
(Idia's Part)
Previous part (Kalim)
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A/n: Out of every housewarden, I felt like sobbing writing Idia's cause of how fluffy he is, I love him so much.
Content Warning: This Fic will be tagged as 16+ since it is a bit suggestive along with mentions of Gorey themes (Azul), it’s very vague. I haven’t finished Book 6 and Book 7 because I’m stuck in Tartarus, but they’re not done here yet. Potential Inaccuracy in Indian Tradition, Indian and Greek clothing, if ever you see inaccuracy about it, please let me know, I only did a bit of research about it. The reason for potential OOC was cause I mixed both the classic Villains with the personalities of our beloved boys. You have a child with Kalim here!
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First Batch would be: Riddle, Leona, Azul
Second Batch would be: Kalim, Idia, Malleus
List of Villains interconnecting with each character:
Kalim = The sultan
Idia = Hades
─────❅─────
Idia:
The underworld has always been Idia’s little comfort zone, although at first, he didn’t want to rule it, due to how depressing it gets sometimes, but along with his brother Ortho who takes care of “outside” activities, aka meetings with those overbearing gods and goddesses who think they’re better than anyone, he didn’t mind the work as long as it’s with him. So far, his duties were all just about guiding souls into whatever the fuck they want or are allowed to go, honestly if they all became lost souls, he wouldn’t give a flying damn.
One day, however, an odd discrepancy appeared in the calculations of souls being accepted—an unregistered soul had entered the narrative. Concerned, he strolled toward the portal of Tartarus to investigate. When he peered inside, a sudden flash of blinding light erupted, disorienting him. Before he could react, a heavy force slammed into his body, causing him to stumble.
“What the!” he grunted, feeling a heavy body on top of him, he rubbed his head, opening his eyes, adjusting to the sudden light-to-darkness transition.
You stirred, finding your hands pinning him down. His eyes widened in shock as he pushed you off, scrambling backward so quickly that he hit his back on the wall with a loud slam.
“What In the world?!” he screeched, his hair glowing brightly meaning he was incredibly nervous, while you seemed to be lost, standing up, you pat away the dust off your outfit, taking notice of Idia who still was pressed on the wall.
“Idia?” you went closer to him, he looked like an angry kitten, glaring at you at first but the moment you got closer he stiffens up, pushing his hands to protect himself from you.
“Stay back! You anomaly!” he shouted that it echoed around the empty room, you were taken aback, “Idia, it’s me.” you said, eyebrows knitting in frustration.
“H-how do you know my name?” he asked, looking at you confusedly, were you sent by his other brother who he doesn’t even think of one, Zeus? You look kind of angelic so there’s a suspicion.
“Idia, you’re my boyfriend” Wow point blank you decided to kill him with those words, boyfriend his ass, what boyfriend, all he knows is that he prefers to be single than have a lover, also he wants to add that you are way out of his league, there’s no way you like him that way, and this is the first time you met him, was there a camera around here? The edited laughter? Where is it? He’s waiting for that to come.
Realizing that he was overthinking again, you snapped your fingers catching his attention; stating your name you tried to see if you got any reaction, but nothing. He really didn’t remember you.
You were going to be saddened by this, if it weren’t for the fact that the tips of his hairs had a slight pink on it meaning was still a chance for you to get your boyfriend back.
Okay, you two might be misunderstanding things, while Idia was observant, he can’t think straight when he’s in front of someone, his black and blue robe being a perfect cover for himself, he even had a hoodie knitted for him to cover his hair with.
You noticed that he was taller than before, raising your eyebrow, you grabbed his arm, which made him freeze up, looking at you like you just harassed him, his sweat drops. “What?”
“Since when did you get taller?” you asked, he slides your hand off of his arm, rubbing it a bit, “I don’t know?” he answered confusedly, before waving his hand dismissively, “No more questions, I’m bringing you back to Zeus” he grumbled, his stupid brother playing pranks on him again.
“What? Zeus?” you walked faster to catch up on him when he started speedwalking away, “Y’know, God of Olympus?” he said, weirded out why you didn’t know Zeus, everyone knows him.
“Wait, Zeus as in the God from long ago?” you asked further, which made Idia stop his tracks, turning to look at you, his figure looming, he looked like a grim reaper when he stands with you before, but now it’s more evident.
“What do you mean long ago?” he asked as bewildered as you are, why are you acting this way anyways? Anomaly that popped out of nowhere and almost giving him a concussion and right now you’re giving him a migraine, what’s next huh? brain aneurysm?
“Are you not my Idia?” you frowned, looking at him closer, he exhibited a different style, he was taller, slightly shorter hair, bluish skin instead of pale.
“Your” Idia? What does that mean?
The more you open your mouth the more questions pop out, sighing he decided to cover your mouth with his hand. “Please… just shut up for a minute”
Okay, first theory! You’re not from around here, I mean you just got spat out like trash by the Tartarus and suddenly proclaiming that he’s your boyfriend, he feels bad for you, your standard is in hell if you’re dating him, you’re pretty too, a disrespect to your face really.
Second theory, which he’s leaning on more, you’re a spy sent by his brother Zeus; to make him fall for you and you break his heart and upload it to magicam or something.
If you think he’s self-deprecating too much, please, he’s just being realistic with the situation.
“First off, I am not yours” he clarified, lifting his hands as if he’s surrendering to you. “I never met you in my whole life, you’re cute but no”
Rejected by your own boyfriend, you wanted to pinch his cheeks for it, you were going to be hurt by this, but the thing is, the way he acts reminded you of the first stages of your relationship with him, he wasn’t the best with it.
“Okay,” you said, being short with him, for some reason that made him feel bad, scratching the back of his neck, he wanted to hold your cheek or hand to comfort you, an odd feeling.
“Sorry- I mean if you want to, I can act like your boyfriend or something” he murmured, his voice gradually decreasing to the point you barely heard the last words.
“It’s fine Idia, no need” not wanting to force him into that kind of thing, however, you noticed that his little fire hair started to fizzle out, panicking a bit you touched his hand, holding it, “wait I mean, okay, sure we can act”
Phew, that got his fire back up, lucky you. “Okay…” he said awkwardly coughing as he uses his tech to call for Ortho. “Ortho, can you come here?”
Ortho was impressively fast with going back to the underworld, looking the same except his clothes or rather his cyborg parts looked Greek like, it explains why you were wearing a tunic.
“Scan her” Idia said, using his eyes to signal ortho who to scan, in which Ortho grins brightly. “Okay!”
You stayed still as Ortho used his eyes to scan you, it was something that came natural for you, especially since your Ortho does that often.
“So?” Idia asked, leaning on the wall, Ortho shook his head, looking conflicted. “Nope, she doesn’t have any data around Ancient Greece, or anywhere”
“Huh” he didn’t seem surprised. “Are you sure about this?” he asked, patting Ortho’s head. “Yeah! I did another scan but there’s no indication of her presence anywhere.
So, you really were just transported by Tartarus to Ancient Greece, connecting the dots, that means Idia here is…
Noticing you staring at him in deep thought He smiles a bit, you looked funny thinking like that, pouty and all. “Since you’re really not from here, my name is Idia, God of the Underworld, and this is Ortho, my brother.” Ortho waves at you enthusiastically and he was genuinely surprised that his brother introduced him instead of himself.
“I know” you hummed, crossing your arms. “I told you already, we’re dating- “
Idia tried to cover your mouth before you spout that out but failed as Ortho’s eyes widens. “You’re dating my brother in the other world?! You mean there’s another version of us in your world?”
Oh dear, you’re in it now.
Ortho basically asked you plenty of questions, already happy that his brother pulled someone like you, you were gorgeous!
Idia was a bit happy you got along with his brother, he sometimes feels bad that he keeps Ortho in such a depressing place instead of being a normal kid outside and playing.
Also he can’t help but get flustered whenever you randomly get physically affectionate with him, he’s been trying to find a way to get you back in your world, but it’s proving to be difficult since Tartarus maybe his domain, but it’s a system that’s entirely independent from him, think of it as the pity system in his gacha games, even if you hit enough 80 pulls, it doesn’t guarantee the limited character you want.
But, as long as he can, Idia tries to make sure every time he hangs out with you is worthwhile, it’s the first time he made effort to spend time with someone, when he’s off work, he finds himself going to the guest room, asking if you wanted to come eat with him and Ortho, or sometimes, you end up in his room, playing a two-player game with him.
Ever since you came into his life, he started going out of his room more, back then he usually just… does his work and go to his room. That’s all
Now he’s trying to go outside more, especially when Ortho told him that to get you back faster was by “thinking outside the box” which just meant that he should go touch some grass and let the gears in his brain think of a solution.
He didn’t really know when he fell for you, but he noticed it when you were outside with him, in the largest field that had nothing but nature around. The outfit that Ortho lend you fits your palette so perfectly, it almost made him want to take a picture.
You were admiring the view while glancing around, picking up flowers.
Confused with what you were doing he walked to you. “Hey what-“ getting cut off as you shove a bouquet of flowers on his chest, a ribbon clumsily wrapped around the stems of the flowers.
“For you” you said, smiling, making his heart skip a bit, he accepted the gift as Ortho called out for you, giving him a glance before you grab his collar, pulling him down to kiss his cheek before walking away.
That got his hair to burn bright pink, shaking from the adrenaline, he coughed awkwardly, hopefully, Ortho didn’t see what you did.
Well, he’s having a hard time finding a way to send you back home, so… it might take a while.
─────❅─────
A/n: ACCCCCCK IDIAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA ILYSM ༼;´༎ຶ ༎ຶ༽
#twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland x reader#fluff#twst idia#idia shroud#ortho shroud#idia x reader#idia twst#disney twst#twst ortho#twisted wonderland idia#idia x mc#ortho
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AITA in this friendship? give me a minute here, it's more complicated than it sounds
I'm 19 years old, female. So there's this friend, we'll call her B (also 19F). We've been friends for years, since elementary. We've been good friends for that time, I thought.
But especially during high school, it was hard to spend time with her. She was always convinced the friend group hated her even though all I'd ever hear was that they liked her and were confused/frustrated/hurt as to why she thought that. She's always had a lot of mental illness going on (depression, anxiety, ADHD, etc) so I tried to give her the benefit of the doubt. She spent most of her time in another part of the school refusing to spend time with me or the friend group saying she wanted "alone time" even though she was surrounded by other friends.
I knew she was feeling unwanted within the friend group, so I tried to spend time with her when she would let me. But it kind of alienated me from the rest of the friend group so I spent a good portion of my lunches alone. Plus, even though she would say its ok for me to be there, sometimes it felt like she hated me and my presence. But then she would turn around and tell me I was the only one she could be truly honest with, etc, etc.
The reason I tried not to pay too much heed to the idea that she might really hate being my friend is because I also struggle with anxiety pretty badly. I've been working really really hard to just listen to what people tell me, because I can't trust what I'm telling me.
But this feeling continued after high school, and it felt like there was something I didn't know, like she secretly hated me and only put up with me.
Almost every time I would invite her to do something, she would try to invite someone else too. That's fine, but when it happens almost every time... it made me feel like I was unwanted.
I got really clingy. I'll admit that. I texted her often (most days a week) and would get anxious when she didn't respond within a couple of hours, leading to me double, triple texting most of the time. She told me not to text her during work, but how am I supposed to know for sure? She told me her hours once, but I have no record of it and I don't expect her to memorize my schedule so I feel like that's unfair. Plus, if I didn't press for an answer, I often wouldn't get one at all or wouldn't get one for days. Like one time I tried to schedule a time to hang out a few weeks in advance. She told me she would get back to me, but then the day before, still nothing. I texted over and over again, trying to get an answer, until she got mad at me for texting so much and told me she didn't think hanging out would work out. But the point is I got clingy, in a way that I understand made her anxious.
My anxiety got the better of me and I decided to stop contacting her. I held to it for a couple of months, aside from wishing her happy christmas/new years. But my birthday came and went for the second year in a row without a word, and I decided I needed to talk to her about it.
I did, and although she refused to do it in person like I wanted, I thought it was a pretty good conversation. She told me about a couple things I was doing to make her uncomfortable. I promised to work on those and being less clingy. I told her I need her to be honest about the things that bother her, and she said she needed time to work on that skill. She said she was thinking a month, maybe less, so i agreed not to contact her first during that time and she promised to contact me soon.
I didn't hear from her for three months. I finally broke down and texted her, asking to talk it out and telling her this arrangement wasn't working for me. She didn't respond for almost a week. I needed peace of mind, so I said I was done with waiting and I would be open to rekindling the friendship later, but I wasn't going to hold my foot in the door for her any longer. No response again.
I remembered I owed her money and asked her when would be a good time to drop it off (it was not like five bucks, it was a fair amount of money so I didn't want to like leave it on a doorstep or something). No response again for a day. I told her if I didn't hear from her in a couple of days I was going to keep the money.
She finally responded a day later, saying she didn't have the energy for a "high maintenance" friendship and to leave the money in her mailbox.
I don't know who was at fault here. I mean, I was clingy and I ended the friendship, but she didn't give me a chance to change and didn't stick to her word. But I don't know if contacting her again after those three months was clingy? I really don't know, and the end of this friendship has been tormenting me. I just want to know who was at fault and then I can deal with it, but I honestly don't know.
Also, WIBTA for contacting B again and trying to rekindle the friendship?
Please do not ask multiple questions in a single submission. It just confuses things and makes it hard for people to vote in the poll.
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Chokehold: Pt. VIII
Vessel x Reader x Noah Sebastian
Word Count: 5.1k
A New Year’s Eve party makes an extremely tense situation even worse as old faces are shown and old wounds are reopened.
Content warning: smut, angst, drinking, toxicity
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New Year's Eve rolled around and so did the start of you getting back into work mode. Starting the week of the New Year, you went back on tour with Bad Omens and were going to be for a month as they toured Europe; first as a supporting act for Bring Me The Horizon and then their own headlining tour continuing the Concrete Forever tour. You were excited to get back on the road especially around Europe, you missed the crew and the band themselves. Well, you didn't really know if you fully missed one of them, maybe more so felt an extreme distance between the two of you.
You sighed as you worked on your laundry and folded the dry clothes into a pile for what you were packing. For the most part, it was pretty much everything you’d brought from home when you originally came over here. In the time you’ve been here though, you’ve accumulated about twice as many clothes that you had brought with you.
It was still pretty early on in the day and you planned on using this holiday to your advantage: laundry and chores before you really had to go fully into work mode. The only thing you had to do later was attend a party hosted by Oliver Sykes of Bring Me The Horizon with Vessel. It was something they were usually invited to when schedules worked out, and luckily this year they did.
Your outfit was already laid out on the bed and you were very excited to wear it tonight. It was something new and a little out of your comfort zone, but after trying it on in the shop you just knew it’d be perfect for a NYE party. With Vessel being out most of the day doing some errands for the house, you knew the dress would remain a surprise for him and a smile pulled at your lips each time you thought about the kind of reaction he’d have to it.
Since Christmas dinner at IV’s, your mind was still racing around the interaction you had with III. Had something happened between the first time you met and that night? You wondered if he’d learned something about you that threw him off a little, or perhaps he’s just being a protective friend and not wanting to see Vessel hurt again, nevertheless you could not shake the feeling that he doesn’t trust you.
It was eating at you all week and each time you’d gone to send him a text asking if you could meet up and talk, you would get nervous and not send it. You were scared of what he might say or what he might think of the fact that you’re so adamant on knowing what he meant on Christmas. Knowing he would be at the party tonight, you're going to try and talk to him before either of you have anything to drink so the conversation would be true without any infliction.
You decided that cleaning up around the house would be a nice way to get time moving quickly, focusing more on the lived-in areas like the kitchen, library and the living room. Might as well make the house look nice as you went into a new year, right?
As you cleaned the living room, you noticed a picture on the mantle of the fireplace that you hadn’t noticed before; it was of you and Vessel when he took you around London to see all the touristy things you hadn’t really seen before, only a small glimpse as you drove by during your other trips to the city. It was a picture that a woman took of the two of you in front of Big Ben, a big smile on both of your faces as you had been laughing at something the woman said, but Vessel faced you instead as you beamed toward the camera. You didn't even realize she had taken such a lovely candid photo of that moment, and you never realized Vessel had been looking at you in such a way… where it was like you were the only person on that busy street and nothing would ever take that loving gleam from his eyes as he focused on you.
He was as in love with you as you are with him. And yet, you still couldn’t tell him.
It was something that also preoccupied your mind since last week. Not being able to tell Vessel your feelings as he so easily did. He loves you and the least you could do was reciprocate the confession… but that wasn't going to come so easy for you. Saying “I love you” especially to Vessel might be the hardest thing you’ve had to do, and it killed you constantly how hesitant you were.
You hoped the hesitation wasn’t bothering him or else it might legitimately kill you for how guilty that’d make you feel. Fuck… why was it so hard?
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The time came for you to start getting ready for the party. Vessel came back an hour ago and was putting away the dishes you used for the takeout he brought home for dinner. You stood in the bathroom as you applied your makeup, going for a bit of a smokier look that you thought would fit well with the dress. As the time got closer to when the party started, you grew more and more excited. It should be fun meeting all these new people that Vessel knew, getting to know the guys in Bring Me The Horizon and their crew before going on tour with them. It’ll be a good night.
You applied the finishing touches to your makeup and stepped back a bit to get a good look at the work. The smoked out eyeliner with the cat eye inner corner brought out the color of your eyes, and the deep red you put on your lips was stunning against your skin. Probably one of the best makeup attempts you’ve ever done if you do say so yourself.
“Darling, are you almost ready?” Vessel called from downstairs as you fastened the buckles on your heels.
“Yes, I just need to put my perfume on and then I’ll be done.” You hurried to where your perfume was as the sound of his footsteps echoed up the stairs.
“Was just thinking about how… wow.” His voice floated into the room and you turned after he’d stopped. His eyes were fixated on you, roaming around every part he could take in. The laced fabric of the dress that really left nothing to the imagination as it hugged every curve of your body and was doing exactly what you knew it would.
You smirked. “Thinking about what?”
He swallowed hard. “You know I don't think Oli would be mad if we showed up late.” He stepped toward you, his hands coming to rest on your hips as he kept his focus on your eyes.
“Now, I don’t think that would work this time around, Ves. He did say on the invite that he doesn’t like those who come late.” You placed your hand on his chest, feeling his rapid heartbeat.
A low groan came from his throat as his hands roamed to feel the curve of your ass in the dress. “He could take it up with me, because all I can think about is bending you over the bed and fucking you in this dress.” A blush crept across your skin as you saw the feral look in his eyes.
“Later, Ves. We can ring in the new year in private if you’d like.” You kissed him and slipped out of his hold, noting how hard he was because of you. “All that because of me, pretty boy?” You loved to tease him especially in moments like this.
“Keep doing shit like that and I’m definitely making us late to the party.” He said as he tried to adjust himself in the tight pants that he wore. Now you took the time to soak in his outfit, the tight black dress pants and a button down white shirt that had the first few buttons undone, showing off the necklace you got him for Christmas. You resisted the urge to get down on your knees and help him out, knowing you were just going to do that later anyways.
“Let’s go.” You held out your hand and waited for him to take it before you headed downstairs, seeing a car had pulled up and was waiting for you. He’d ordered an Uber while you were still getting ready and yet wanted to fuck you so badly he’d miss the ride… what a dork.
The drive to Oli’s wasn’t all that bad, you just sat back and relaxed in the car while Vessel kept a firm hand on your thigh, giving it a small squeeze here and there. The snow was beautiful as you drove further out into the country, the rolling hills covered in white that seemed to sparkle under the stars. Oh how you dreamed of living in a place like this.
After an hour you arrived. Cars lined the driveway and even more were down the street for those who were coming in Ubers or Lyfts. It was a much larger party than you anticipated, apparently Oli really knew how to throw one.
As you entered you handed off your jackets and were greeted by Oli himself. “There you are! I’ve been waiting for you to come. How are you, mate?” He enthusiastically said as he engulfed Vessel in a hug.
“Doing well, thanks for asking. This is my girlfriend Y/N, Y/N this is Oli.” Vessel motioned between the two of you as he did his introductions.
“Hi, nice to finally meet you.” You said, sticking your hand out to shake his but he pulled you into a hug instead.
“Ah yes! I’ve heard lots about you love, excited to get back on the road soon?” He beamed down at you and you felt as though you were warming up to him quicker than most.
“I am. I’ve missed touring with everyone, it should be a good time.” You smiled back at Oli, noticing his attention sweep behind you as more people came inside.
“Sorry to dismiss you so soon but I’ve got to be a good host, you all enjoy the party and don’t get too hammered!” He moved off to the people behind you, leaving you to the open house and the party happening. Vessel placed his hand on your lower back and guided you to where everyone had gathered. The music wasn’t quite loud and people were more so mingling than partying. The bar was packed with people getting their drinks started for the night.
You tried your best to spot III in the crowd, especially at the bar since he likes to get his drinks early. But there was no sight of him, either he was elsewhere or coming later. You sighed as you looked at everyone here, no one you knew or even recognized, all in their own little bubbles as the conversations grew louder.
Vessel squeezed your hand to get your attention. “Want to get something at the bar?” You glanced over at the huge crowd still over there and shook your head, he followed your gaze and understood. “Yeah it is a bit crowded, I could still get you something if you’d like?” Without III here yet and more than likely the fact he’ll be arriving pretty late, you said fuck it and asked Vessel to grab you a drink.
You stood in the same spot, every so often saying hi to people who passed by and sharing compliments on outfits you really loved. It became draining just standing and watching the doors to possibly spot III before Vessel came back, so you moved your focus to the room behind you. Basic New Years streamers were scattered across the room, balloons were being held up by a net on the ceiling and were going to be released when the clock struck midnight.
As you took another turn, you noticed a familiar face lighting up the room around him. An excited squeal almost slipped from you at the same time as your stomach fell to the floor. You cautiously made your way over to none other than Nicholas Ruffilo, bassist of Bad Omens and Noah’s best friend. Despite the latter, he was also one of your good friends.
“Nicholas!” You shouted as you made your way to him. He turned and his face lit up with surprise.
“Y/N?” He engulfed you in a long hug. “I didn’t know you would be here.” You pulled away from the hug and admired your friend, he hasn’t changed since the last time you saw him.
“I’m here with someone. How are you, honey? Anything new going on?” You ask, glancing around him to see if any of the other members were around to say hi to.
He smiled. “Not exactly, we’ve just been working on music since October.” He noted the way you looked around, the weariness written across your face. “He’s here, I’m not sure where exactly but I can always let him know you’re here if you want to see him?” Your heart raced at the thought of seeing Noah and you smiled at Nicholas.
Before you could say anything, the strong grip of Vessel’s hand on your hip stopped you. “Here you go, love. Vodka cran with a hint of lime.” He handed you the drink and kissed your cheek, noticing the company you had. “Oh, hey Nicholas. How are you doing?” You stood back and watched as the two conversed, going back and forth about touring and music. You know, the things all musicians tend to talk about when they haven’t seen one another in a while.
“So when did this happen?” Nicholas asked as he motioned between you and Vessel.
You smiled at your friend. “We’ve kinda been a thing since November, but never really made things official till this month.” You caught the slight eyebrow raise that Nicholas did before he smiled.
“That’s wonderful. I’m happy for you guys, you make a lovely couple.” It was genuine and that’s all that mattered to you, at least for now while Vessel was standing with you. Nicholas looked past your shoulder, catching your attention you turned to see who he was looking at. Standing near the stairs in the shadow of a doorway stood Noah, his eyes were focused on you despite Matt standing next to him and talking.
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Noah’s POV
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Since the moment you saw her standing alone and looking around at the shitty decorations that Oli put up, you knew this night was already fucked. You had no clue why she was here and how she ended up getting an invitation since most of the crew wasn’t here besides Matt. You tried to keep yourself preoccupied with the drink in your hand as Matt talked about whatever came to mind for him, but you could not keep your attention away from her.
The way that black lace dress hugged every single part of her that you’d grown fond of and cherished every second when you were together was debilitating. Her hair was pulled back, showing the angles of her face and making it more beautiful each time the lights cast upon it. She was the most beautiful person in the room and you were unable to keep your eyes off her, especially when she found Nicholas and her face lit up like a star.
You watched them talk, a feeling of relief hitting you as they conversed like there hasn’t been a two month gap since the last time they saw each other. Another thing about Y/N that you loved; no matter how long of a break between a tour, seeing her was the easiest thing because she talked to you like you had just spoken a day ago. And now that you were about to be around her for a month, things were going to be different. Especially because you decided to be a dick and stop calling or texting her. So that was going to make things weird between the two of you.
Before you could move over to say hi, movement caught your attention as you watched Vessel make his way to her with two drinks in his hand. He switched to holding both with one hand so that he could place a hand on her hip. Your lip twitched as you watched her relax into the touch and lean against his chest.
So that’s who you heard in the background when you last spoke to Y/N? Your fist tightened as you watched him kiss her cheek again, his hand remaining on her hip but slowly inching its way to one of your favorite parts of her. You caught Nicholas glance at you from around Y/N’s shoulder, leading her to turn and catching your gaze with her own. Fuck, she’s seen you now.
She didn't do anything until Vessel turned too, noticing you and giving you a friendly wave. The three of them made their way to you and you could tell Y/N was hesitant about it. Matt loudly greeted them and gave her a tight hug, boasting about how he couldn’t wait to fuck shit up in the venues with her again.
You stood by quietly, watching the interaction between everyone. Nicholas stood on your other side now and he put a hand on your shoulder. “I’m sorry man.” He whispered, pointing to the couple in front of you. She stared at you as Vessel and Matt engaged in some sort of a conversation, her eyes searching yours for some sort of answer from you. It was hard to look into those same eyes that had been something you looked forward to seeing every morning when you woke up on tour. She was one of the only things that kept you going during those long days and some nights that followed. But now? You couldn’t have her because she looked happy, happy to be with someone who probably gave her his all and it was all she needed in comparison to you.
You had enough and stormed away, finding a quiet spot in the basement of Oli’s house. There was no one down here and you hoped it remained that way so you could collect your thoughts. You stared down at your hands, seeing the red marks you left from your nails while they dug into your palms. It felt pathetic to react the way that you were, but nothing could’ve prepared you for this.
The sound of music flooded down the stairs as someone entered, and quickly went back to the muffled sound that you escaped down here for. “Spots occupied, I suggest one of the many rooms upstairs.” The sounds of heels coming down the stairs made you sigh. “Not looking to hookup with random chicks tonight-” You stopped as Y/N came down and gave you a small smile.
“Pretty sure I’m not some random ‘chick’.” She says, coming a bit closer to you but still maintaining a good distance. She crossed her arms as she gave you a long look. “Hi Noah.”
“Does your boyfriend know you’re down here?” You question, glaring up at her from where you sat.
She ran her tongue over her teeth as you stared. “He knows I went to go talk to you since you left so abruptly.”
“Yeah and for good reason.” It stayed quiet between the two of you for a while, only the muffled sounds of the party upstairs keeping it from being fully silent. Before she even had the chance to get the words out of her mouth, you cut her off. “Why him Y/N? Why did you run off and choose him?”
She stood there stunned. “What do you mean, Noah? I didn’t fucking ‘run off’ I came here because he wanted me to, and guess what? I wanted to as well, especially after the tour ended and I had no one to talk to.”
“So you flew out all this way because you were lonely?”
She tightened her arms against her stomach. “Yes. You hadn’t talked to me in a while and Vessel was the one to call me everyday and check up on me. In fact, I was flying to London when you finally decided to text me again.” Something stung in your heart as she said that she was already on her way to him when you wanted to speak… and what makes it worse is that she probably was already wrapped around his finger when you were understanding your feelings for her.
“I should’ve never introduced the two of you that day.” You shook your head and wiped the sweat from your palms onto your pants.
She tilted her head. “So you regret that day? You’re mad because you brought me and Vessel together-”
You stood suddenly at the words. “I’m mad because he has you!” The shock spread through her wide eyes as she stared at you. “Fuck Y/N, are you that fucking blind?”
“I don’t know who you think you are for calling me blind, Noah. Last time I checked, we were fucking with no strings attached. All for pure pleasure and a way to let stress out. In no way did I ever see us being together.” Her voice caught at the end and tears flooded her eyes, a look of sorrow filling them as well.
���Yes you did.” You whispered, taking a step towards her and then another. “I know you did, Y/N. It doesn’t take long for you to grow attached to someone and want something so much more from them, that’s probably why you were so quick to run into Vessel’s arms when he offered you somewhere to stay where you wouldn’t be alone.” Your hand rested on her cheek now, watching the tear fall from her eyes and land on your thumb. You moved it so now your fingers held her face up by her chin, her watery eyes gleaming beneath the lights in the basement. Her breaths were heavy as she stared at you, it was hard to keep your composure around her, especially after not being around her for so long. The smell of her perfume was so alluring you couldn’t help it as you leaned down to her neck, rubbing the tip of your nose along her skin where she liked to be kissed most. Your lips made contact with her, feeling the rapid pulse beating through her as a whispered moan escaped her lips.
“Noah-” She tried not to let her head fall back and pressed her hand against your chest. “Noah I can’t. I’m sorry.” She pushed you away, noting the sadness that flashed in her eyes. “I have Vessel and I love him, I’m sorry but we cannot be together.” She loves him.
“No you don’t.” You whisper as she begins to turn away.
“I do. I really do, you cannot tell me otherwise.” She whispers back. “I will see you on Saturday.” As you watched her leave, you felt as though the whole world just came crashing down around you and it was hard to breathe.
She loves him.
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Reader’s POV
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You rushed back upstairs as the tears threatened to spill down your face. How could Noah pull some shit like that? The audacity he has to try and tell you that you don’t love Vessel when you’ve known for a few weeks that you do.
The music was much louder now as the time neared midnight. People were drunk and dancing around, couples made out in every corner you could see. You needed Vessel and you had to find him now. You eventually found him where he was talking with the band, III eyeing you as you walked up to them.
“Oh there you are, darling. I’ve been looking for you.” He kissed your forehead. You quickly said hello to the guys and they did the same, before you grabbed Vessel’s hand and pulled him away. You dragged him upstairs, heading past the rooms with closed doors knowing they were already occupied. You found an empty room and pulled him inside and slammed the door shut. “You disappear for a little bit and come back insanely horny?”
You smirked at him as the blue lighting in the room took hold of his features. “I did… and I do remember you saying earlier that you wanted to bend me over something and fuck me in this dress?” Your fingers toyed with the buttons of his shirt as you placed a kiss along his jaw.
“Glad you remembered that. But darling you know it’ll be midnight soon, do you not want to celebrate downstairs with everyone?” He brushed a stray hair behind your ear.
You shook your head. “I’d rather spend it alone with you. Whether its us just curled up in bed together or fucking each other’s brains out, I don’t care.” You felt the emotions bubbling up again and immediately forced them down. “I just want to be with you.”
“Both options sound good, but let's start with the second one.” A devious smile tugged on his lips as he placed his hands on the back of your thighs and tapped you twice, indicating you to jump up so he could carry you. Your lips crashed together and his tongue slipped into your mouth, the taste of the alcohol he’d been drinking mixing in with yours. Music from downstairs droned on in the background, the occasional thumps from the beat added to the racing beat of your heart.
Vessel carried you over to the bed and laid you down on it, not breaking the connection between your mouths once. Your fingers pulled at the buttons on his shirt as he worked on his belt, both being flung into a corner of the room. His hands ran up both of your thighs and to the waistband of your pantyhose and underwear beneath your dress, pulling both down with ease and adding them to the pile of clothes.
He kept his hands on your hips to keep you pinned to the bed. You reached for his pants to get them off but he gently swatted you away and broke your kiss. “We’re doing this my way tonight, darling. I want to please you first.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead before he backed off the bed and got on his knees on the floor in front of you. He leaned forward and pulled you to the edge of the bed, the skirt of your dress riding up as he did so. “Look at you darling, so perfect.”
Vessel grinned up at you before he put his head between your legs and ran his tongue through your folds. Your back arched off the bed at the feeling, his tongue moving in circles over your clit and a finger toying with your entrance. He didn't even hesitate as he pushed two fingers into you, pumping slowly with the pace of his tongue.
“Ves.” You breathed, squirming under his touch. “Go faster, I need you to go faster.” And he obliged. He pumped his fingers faster as his tongue picked up its pace too, flooding your body with pleasure. Your moans echoed through the room as you gripped tightly to the comforter beneath you. He took your mind away from everything. The only thing that you thought about was him and how good he made you feel, and how right it was for you two to be together.
You hit your climax with a scream, the pleasure overwhelming your senses as he kept the pace with his fingers in you. He watched as you came down from that high, breathing hard as you collected yourself. “You ready?” He asked, flipping you so you were on your stomach. The sound of his pants being undone made your ears perk up and you pushed your ass towards him. “Someone is a little desperate tonight, huh? You want my cock in you that badly darling?”
You nodded. “Yes, I need you in me baby.” The plea came out like a whine, earning a chuckle from Vessel as he ran the tip of his cock through your arousal.
“Whatever you need, darling.” He said as he pushed into you, making your head fall forward at the pressure of his cock in you. It always took a bit for you to adjust, especially in the position you were in. He slowly pulled out and thrust back in, repeating the motion until he could do it with ease.
He slipped out of you and instructed you to remove your dress and lay down against the pillows, watching you as you slowly removed the tight dress from your body and rested against the pillows. He settled between your legs and filled you up once more, your moans mixing together in the space. Vessel’s body pressed against yours as he thrusted into you with kisses being left across your skin as you held onto him tightly. He pressed his lips against yours, nothing but passion dripping from the kiss as he fucked you.
This is what this was, pure passion for each other and no longer the lust that had been the ongoing reason for your relationship. This was all it was. Not longing to just get off because you’re attracted to each other… no, this was wanting your bodies to be connected for as long as possible and never wanting to let go of the other. You loved every second of this, it was all you wanted for the rest of your life.
You pulled away from the kiss and looked him in the eyes. “I love you, Ves.” His pupils widened as he took in what you said. “I want you to be mine forever.” He kissed you again, gentle but loving. You could tell he was on the brink of his climax as he thrusted harder into you, kissing every last bit he could before he came in you.
He pulled the comforter over the two of you and took you into his arms, never cutting the connection between the two of you as you laid against his chest. “I love you too, Y/N. You have always been mine since the day we met.” You placed a kiss against his chest where his heart rested when the loud cheers and noise of people shouting “happy new years” from downstairs pulled you back to reality.
“Well. Happy new years, Ves.” You smiled.
“Happy new years, Y/N.” He said and kissed you once more.
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I have way too much to say about Jason Grace as a character so I might as well start here. I will also preface that while I might be critical of things in the Riordanverse, I do like it, I just think Jason in particular was done hella dirty. I’m also not working with a fully fresh memory of the franchise so if I say something stupid feel free to yell at me.
The relationship between Percy Jackson and Jason Grace was underwhelming, but it could’ve been a lot better. I think it boils down to three main areas: their rivalry, their relationship as foils and their eventual friendship
As Rivals
Jason and Percy’s rivalry basically boils down to “They fought because they were possessed,” and I think that they could’ve had plenty of reason to actually not like each other. This is part of my belief that the HoO series could’ve been longer to flesh out a lot of stuff. But I do believe that it’s bizarre that Percy and Jason meet, initially get along, and then come to blows in the same book. I know they were possessed, but that didn’t have to be the case. I think there were some things that Rick could’ve used to give them actual reasons to fight
I think it would boil down to two types of reasons: a systemic one and a “personal” one.
For Jason, I believe it was canon that the gods didn’t pay too much attention to Roman demigods, so it would’ve been interesting to have him go on a Greek quest while his memories are returning, see the amount of involvement from the gods and go: “So y’all can help, but the choose not to help the Romans? Fuck that!” I think the second reason that Jason would have to not like Percy would be to have him see how much the Greeks care about getting Percy back and contrast that to the Romans, who didn’t look for him and went as far as to replace him and you have Jason go: “Fuck That!” This would eventually turn into “Fuck Percy Jackson,” because even though Jason’s not really mad at Percy, he’s the poster boy for what Jason is really mad at
For Percy, you have him see the safety net that the Roman demigods have in New Rome and go: “Why don’t the Greeks have something similar? Fuck that!”. You can also have Percy find out that while he pretty much lost eight months in the blink of an eye, Jason was only asleep for a few days and go: “Fuck that!” This turns into a “Fuck Jason Grace” attitude because Jason is also the poster boy for what Percy is actually mad at
All in all, I don’t believe that they need actual personal gripes with each other, they just need to view each other as the easy target for the actual things they’re mad at.
They would eventually do fight, but not right away. In an ideal world where there is more space in the narrative(more/longer books), there would be at least a whole book where Percy and Jason just don’t get along. However, they wouldn’t come to blows by themselves. This is where the eidolons come in. Instead of it being a full possession like it was in the books, it could’ve been that the eidolons just stoked the tension that was already bubbling under the surface.
Who wins this fight? I would want it to be Jason(probably because I like the character and project on him way too much to have him lose). But at the end of the day, it doesn’t matter who wins, it just matters that the truth comes to light and they eventually talk it out.
As Foils
Jason and Percy could’ve been interesting foils because they both occupy the same space, both being big three powerhouses and leaders at their respective camps. However, they operate completely differently.
Both of them are opposites when it comes to their personality. Percy is a much more untamed, free-spirited rebel while Jason, even though he chafed under rules, still followed them. They are such opposites to the point where some characters that like one, automatically don’t like the other(Annabeth to Jason and Piper to Percy).
Percy is the type to sacrifice the world to save the people he cares about. And while I personally don’t believe that Jason is the ‘needs of the many’ type, he’s certainly not gonna go that far
They are also interesting in how similar they are.
On a basic level, both of them are good people who want to do the right thing, but it goes far deeper than that
I have a headcannon that Jason Grace’s fatal flaw is ‘Self Sacrifice’(I might get into this more in another post). This gives Jason an equally “job interview-y” flaw to Percy’s ‘Personal Loyalty’(as much as I love that being Percy’s fatal flaw, it is very much like when someone says “I’m too *insert good trait*” for the greatest weakness question in a job interview, at least in my opinion)
As Friends
Like I said before, Percy and Jason occupy the same space, so they both can relate to one another on a much deeper level than most others. In canon, they get along great after their spat and I wouldn’t change much about that.
I feel like their similar positions in life would allow them to trust each other
I do think that it would’ve been cool to see them go apeshit together with their combined strength more often
God I hope this shit made sense. I mainly just wish Jason and Percy’s fight had more meaning.
#jason grace#percy jackson#percy jackon and the olympians#pjo#pjo hoo toa#heroes of olympus#percy jackson and the olympians
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Stay Alive (45)
BTS poly!ot7 x Reader
Magical Creatures AU
Series Masterlist
Warnings: none
A/N NOT BETA. Two updates in one day WHOOO!!
“Beloved, your aura is stale. I know you're worried but you have to put faith in us.” Jin dipped his head into the crook of your neck, his head tickling your cheeks.
You all had finally begun to get a move on with the plan, traveling from the magical city of Seoul to where the portal of Lake Yuri laid. Each one of you traveled in their own ways–the valkyries were on their pegasuses while Seungcheol was able to carry some of his companions on his back as a full dragon.
To say you were stunned when the man transformed into a 5 story reptile was an understatement. Namjoon laughed at your expression telling you that most dragons were able to shift just like Jungkook was able to. When you realized Namjoon was able to do that you softly told him you wanted to see his dragon one day.
However it was not that day because Namjoon explained he was still healing from his injuries so shifting wasn’t an option for him just yet. So all of you climbed into a ship that was fueled by magic. It floated high above the sky–courtesy of another coven that learned how to use their magic in objects.
You watched from the railing as the scenery passed by below, catching sight of more creatures that were beyond larger than imaginable. That didn’t stop you from thinking about what was going to happen the moment you all reached your world again.
You shook your head. “Jin, you've been stuck in that facility for the past 10 years. Who knows what will happen—”
“And that's the thing, we don't.” He cut you off. “No matter how much the witches tell us the fortune is going to be good, fate has a silly way of changing quickly. However, because of our powers we have hope to win this. We're going to take everyone out–they deserve it just like we did.”
“I understand that. I couldn't live with myself knowing they were still trapped.” You shook your head, looking back over the railings as you allowed your body to relax into the elf’s arms. “But I also couldn't live with myself if something happened to you.”
“We'll come back home—with you.” Hobi walked over to the two of you, the others coming up as well.
“And then we can settle down and have those babies. No worries about our powers from there.” He grinned, teasing you about the future.
“We have things to finish, Beautiful.” Jimin told you.
“And we have a reason to make it out.” Namjoon spoke up.
“Who do you think will have a kid first?” Taehyung asked.
“We don't even know when!” You laughed at the second youngest’s question.
“She slept with me first.” Jungkook spoke honestly.
“Ya! Doesn't mean anything. I slept with her here!” Jin whined, glaring at the boy.
“I did too.” Yoongi shrugged.
“Same.” Taehyung repeated.
“We just having sex all over the place now?” Jin scoffed.
“Jin!” You scolded, lightly hitting his arm around your waist.
“Sorry, beloved.” He grinned, leaning down to kiss your cheek.
It wasn’t long before the mountains came into view. It seemed that everyone slowed a bit down as they came to the realization that this was going to be it. You couldn’t imagine how tough things might have been. Hanseol was a weak person from what Bang had explained. However Kang was a different story.
He was a witch who only wanted more power. He would find ways of making himself powerful at the expense of others. You couldn’t give an answer for as to why he started working with Hanseol but there was still worry in the back of your mind about the man you had only come across once.
Seungcheol was quick to turn back into his human form in a puff of smoke after his members got off his back. The faerie of the group twirled a staff around stomping it into the ground causing a mist of magic to flow out from it. Another member who you assumed to be some kind of sandman dropped down from his cloud, letting go of the three other members who had rode with him.
The valkyries climbed off their horses, allowing some of the other warriors from the area to take them. IU had shifted back into her human form after being a swan. There were more people who came down after them, getting ready to cross the portal and into the other world. You took in a deep breath, knowing no matter how many people Hanseol had on his side they couldn’t stop people who had trained for years.
“You boys ready?” Minsuk asked them all.
Namjoon took a look at everyone, getting nods of their heads.
He turned back to the leader of guards for Yuri Lake. “Let's go.”
The pass through the magical mirror-like lake felt much different than what you remember a few days ago. It was freezing cold but only for a few seconds. You didn’t feel wet like you thought you were going to but you did feel light as Jungkook helped you through.
He was waiting on the other side along with the rest of the boys wanting to make sure you were more than okay. Once you caught your breath again, you gave them a smile allowing them to rest easy. While the others looked around in quiet contemplation you took the time to walk towards the entrance of the cave.
Seeing the small cross waiting there had you stopping in your tracks. You felt the breeze blew through and into the cave, causing you to look up. When nothing caught your attention you turned back to the stone, trying to memorize it to heart.
You felt something touch the back of your legs, causing you to turn but found nothing. The others had begun to make their way out, Hoseok’s eyes quickly landing on you before making his way over.
“Do you think her parents hate me?” You asked quietly.
“I don't think they would. It wasn't your fault.” Hobi comforted you.
It hurt to think that you couldn’t remember anything from before. Your head couldn’t even come up with the things you could’ve done with Nabi before everything went wrong. You must have been friends with her before crossing into the other world. You had been coming to your grandparents home since you were a little kid. But your mind really couldn’t think of anything having to do wit her.
“I want to know her story. What happened before and after everything.” You said, looking over at him.
“I'm sure your grandfather will be more than happy to tell you after this, princess.” Yoongi passed by, giving you a smile.
The familiar trek back to your grandfather’s house was easy. However once the building came into view and the back gate was left broken your eyes went wide and you rushed forward.
“Wait!” Jungkook called out, having smelled something off with the house. “(Y/N)!”
You stopped at the patio, seeing most of the doors broken off or furniture thrown out into the open. The house itself was still standing but it was clear someone had forced their way in and were trying to find something specific. In this case you knew it was someone rather.
“They were here.” Jungkook spoke up, his nose wrinkling up as he took a sniff around.
Your eyes began to sting, biting your lip to keep from making any loud noises to alert the others. However they could still easily see you picking up things with shaky hands.
“Let's get a move on. We have to stay vigilant in case Hanseol left some of his men behind to guard the lake.” Namjoon added, looking around the trashed house.
“I'm glad we told grandpa to stay back.” You spoke up, picking up a family photo.
“We'll help him rebuild later.” Jimin told you softly, picking up the other pictures that were thrown around.
“All my grandmother's things.” Your breathing began to grow shallow, tears pooling at your eyes.
“Here, I managed to find this in the rubble.” Jin came up to you, handing you a small metal circle.
“Her wedding ring.” You sniffled, turning the diamond over before putting it on your own finger.
“It fits.” You choked on your tears, quickly being pulled into Jin’s embrace.
Hoseok took your hand, fingers delicately running along the one that had your ring. You sniffled as his magic came from his own hands, wrapping themselves around the jewelry. He had a small smile on his face, looking proud of himself when he pulled back after he finished.
“What did you do?” You asked, looking up at Hoseok.
“It won't fall off.” He explained with a smile.
“So it's glued on?” Taehyung tilted his head.
“It's magically glued on. She can take it off but only her–or us.” The witch explained.
“Thanks Hobi.” You smiled, leaning up to give him a kiss.
“You're welcome, Hun.” He smiled.
“If I could, I would make you your own ring.” The boy rubbed the ring, smiling softly.
“Your transfiguration is good though.” You told him.
“Not perfect.” He shook his head. “And for you I want to make the perfect ring.”
“Why is it not perfect?” You asked.
“Because I don't have my wings to perfect my spells. They are part of my energy and because they are gone things don't look as they should in my eyes.” He told you honestly, a sad look passing his eyes.
You could easily remember the day you had met Taehyung for the first time. A boy who wanted to show you a magic trick–well what you thought was a magic trick at the time. It left you astounded and with wonder. You wanted to see more of what he could do.
He was someone who left you wanting to know more about the childish side of things. It was who he was as a person, someone who could do so much and yet still stay as though nothing ever really affected him. You knew he was hurting as much as the others but that didn’t stop him from wanting to try his best to protect everyone just like the others.
“I think everything you do is amazing. You got the others out perfectly. Wings or not, your magic is amazing.” You softly told him.
Everyone had gathered outside in the courtyard in the middle of your grandparents home, watching as Namjoon seemed to fuss in and out of the building.
“How will we get there? You say it's in Seoul.” Hwasa spoke up, looking as Namjoon seemed to close all the available doors to the house.
“Bang Nim gave us some portal keys to enter.” He showed six different keys in his palms, all different sizes.
“However I must let you all know, we will be heading directly into the facility. Be prepared to fight.” He took in a deep breath, looking around. “Are we all ready?”
“Are you?” Yoongi spoke up, looking at his closest companion.
Namjoon turned to you, watching as you had a reassuring look this time around. “Always.”
Series Masterlist
@h3arteyes4mingi , @fangirling-all-the-way-tbh , @rinkund, @rln-byg , @singukieee , @hoshi-is-ult-bbg , @ldysmfrst , @juju-227592 , @alienchickenpoop , @dreamerwasfound , @afangirl91 , @psiphidragon , @puppyminnnie , @shyloh-the-cornsnake , @ollyoxenfrees , @whynotlarene , @beeltsumu , @cryingpages , @milopenne , @belikejk , @thatonedemigodfromseoul , @woozixo,
#bts fanfic#bts#bts jungkook#bts jimin#bangtan sonyeondan#bts v#bts jin#bts namjoon#bts jung hoseok#kpop fanfic#bts imagines#bts min yoongi#jeon jungkook#bts x reader#bts x you#bts x y/n#bts ot7#bts fantasy au#hobi x reader#suga x reader#rm x reader#jungkook x reader#jin x reader#jimin x reader#v x reader
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Niman, the Way of the Rancor
Jango muttered a curse, closing his commlink.
You just couldn’t get the informants these days. Jango had bribed people in the Kaminoan facility to be informed if anyone showed up asking after him, but he hadn’t managed to get them to realize that the arrival of a starship not long after he’d returned from Coruscant might be important.
And now he’d only found out that a Jedi was present when they’d actually asked to see the template for the clones.
“Boba,” he said. “We might have an unexpected guest. And we might need to leave – soon.”
“Got it, dad,” his son replied. “Now?”
“No, the Jedi’s coming this way,” Jango replied. “I’ll try and trick them, then we leave as soon as they’re not here. Is all my armour hidden?”
The attendance chime went, and Jango rolled his head back and forth slightly as Boba went to answer it.
“Boba?” he heard Taun We ask. “Is your father here?”
“Don’t worry about little old me,” a calm voice added. “Just here to visit.”
“May we see him?” Taun We added.
“...sure,” Boba said, after several seconds of silence. “Uh. Dad! Taun We’s here!”
Jango moved around the corner of the apartment, to look at the visiting Jedi, and nearly swallowed his tongue.
There was a kriffing Rancor standing behind Taun We. A Rancor wearing a utility belt, attached to which were two lightsabers – one about the size of a small claw, the other big enough that Taun We could have used it as a neck splint.
“Welcome back, Jango,” Taun We said. “Was your trip productive?”
Jango blinked several times.
“...why is there a Rancor behind you?” he asked.
“Hello,” the Rancor said, in that same calm voice. “My name is Knight Tosh. Can I come in?”
Jango was still staring.
“Isn’t it ‘may’?” Boba asked, in the tones of a child who was trying to notice something he could process.
“I’m not sure how big the hallway is,” Tosh explained. “If there’s a problem with my fitting in, that’s fine, I can sit out here and we can talk.”
Putting actions to words, she sat down.
Jango wasn’t sure exactly how he’d decided that the Rancor was a ‘she’, but he supposed they probably did have genders.
“...you’re a Rancor?” he said, still trying to get past that essential point.
“Yes,” Tosh agreed. “A proud daughter of Dathomir. I’m told I’m named for my grandmother, who was the first of us to learn to read and write.”
She steepled the fingers on her enormous clawed hands.
“Aide We,” she said, a little more formally. “I must inform you that I’m here for a number of reasons, not just one. You see, I’ve been looking into a recent assassination attempt on that nice Senator Amidala.”
“Oh, goodness!” Taun We said. “That is most worrying.”
“It is,” Tosh agreed, with a surprisingly kindly smile given that it was a Rancor smiling, something that Jango’s brain kept circling around to. “The assassin is dead, which is fortunate, and I believe that Jango here did us the favour of eliminating her. So I wanted to thank him personally, and also ask if he had any idea why that might have happened… why he might have been hired to kill that particular shapeshifter, that is.”
Then she frowned. “Oh – but where are my manners? We should really start with how it is that you came to be the template for the clone army! It must be a fascinating story. I assume your young son there is involved, somehow?”
“Thank you,” Obi-Wan said, taking the mug from Cliegg Lars. “I think that’ll be enough for us for now.”
“Not a problem,” Cliegg replied. “You and the other Jedi are the one who rescued Anakin from his old life, that’d be enough to make you kin here, even before all you’ve done for us so far.”
“We do our best,” Obi-Wan smiled, taking a sip of the drink. “Very nice. Thank you again, Cliegg.”
“I don’t know what I expected,” Anakin admitted. “I never really imagined what it would be like to have my mom actually marry someone, but… I think he’s nice.”
“It’s not something the Jedi have much experience with,” Obi-Wan said. “I’m just as lost as you are, Anakin.”
“Are you sure this is a good place to hide out, Obi-Wan? Ani?” Padme asked.
She frowned, and waved her hand. “I don’t mean… that it’s a bad idea to be here. We’ve only been here two days and we’ve already rescued your mother, Ani. But if someone comes looking for us… we’re hiding with the only relatives Anakin has in the entire galaxy.”
“I’m quite sure that nobody will find us,” Obi-Wan replied.
“Yeah, I agree with Master Kenobi,” Anakin nodded. “If I was looking for where a Jedi was hiding, I’d never even think of looking for their family. Jedi just don’t think about family. It’s not something we do.”
“But the people who are trying to hunt me down… they do think about family, don’t they?” Padme said. “Or they might, anyway…”
“In which case, fortunately, we are in a very large desert,” Obi-Wan said. “Mos Espa would have been a suitable enough place to hide out, but now we’re off in the desert. A planet is a very big place to hide someone, Senator – and if there’s anyone in the galaxy who wouldn’t try to betray us, it’s Anakin’s close family. Even before we rescued his mother.”
Padme looked conflicted.
“I suppose you’re right,” she said. “I just worry that we’re too easy to find here. I don’t know how rational that is, but the extent of the resources available to our enemies…”
“Where would you have preferred?” Obi-Wan asked. “If this isn’t where you’d have thought to hide, where would you have hidden?”
“I’d have gone to Naboo,” Padme replied. “Relatives of my family have a house up in the lakes, in the mountains. It’s wonderful and calm and nobody ever goes there.”
“Actually, I like the sound of that, Master,” Anakin said. “Are you sure we can’t change plans and go there, now? There’s a lake there.”
“We brought a lake with us, Anakin,” Obi-Wan replied, tossing his head to indicate the beaten-up old freighter they’d used to get to Tatooine. “Or a large swimming pool, at least.”
Beru Lars chuckled.
“You three are terrible at this,” she said, from over in the corner. “We’re grateful for your arrival, but… none of you know the first thing about hiding.”
“We don’t?” Anakin asked. “What do you mean?”
“ Tatooine is a planet with slavery, which means a planet with crime,” Beru told them. “If you’re going into hiding, you want to get a good balance between the support network and being impossible to trace back to your owners.”
“Of course,” Padme murmured. “It’s a shame the Republic hasn’t been able to do anything about the slavery out here.”
“That’s your department, isn’t it” Beru asked. “With your being a senator, that is.”
“Padme’s brought it up in the Senate a few times,” Anakin said, defending her. “It’s never gone far, though.”
“Part of the problem is that the Republic doesn’t have the ability to do much about it,” Padme admitted. “We have a navy, but no real army – and bombarding Tatooine to help end slavery seems like a bad idea.”
Beru inclined her head.
“That’s fair,” she conceded. “It’s easy enough to forget that, out here. And I’d bet it seems hard to remember there are people in chains, when you’re on glittering Coruscant.”
“We could be doing more than we are,” Padme allowed. “Once this is over, I’ll see what I can do.”
Darth Tyrannus looked at Jango, his gaze calm. Calm, in the way that the ground was calm, under a descending meteor.
He was extremely unimpressed.
“You told her everything?” he asked, his fingers drumming on his belt next to the handle of his lightsaber.
“Not everything, but… more than I think I should have,” Jango replied, somewhat embarrassed. “You weren’t there. It was… I’d like to see you concentrate on what your story is when there’s a Rancor staring at you. Complimenting you. Offering you tips on how to make tea.”
He shook his head. “Saying that she could smell Coruscant on your clothes. And that’s before the fact that she’s a Jedi.”
Dooku sniffed.
“I think that if I were confronted with a Rancor, and it pulled out a lightsaber, I would be relieved,” he said.
There was a sort of soft thump behind him, and Jango glanced up before going pale and holding up his hands.
“Good afternoon,” a pleasant voice said. “Dooku, it’s nice to meet you at last. Should I call you Count? Or do you prefer the name Darth Tyrannus?”
Dooku knew what he was going to see behind him.
He knew it.
But he had to turn around and look anyway, and so he did.
“Tosh,” he said, and this time he did take his lightsaber off his belt – though he didn’t light it. “How did you get here?”
“A tracking beacon, of course,” Tosh replied. “Well, actually two, one of them was in the fidget spinner I gave young Boba, but I didn’t want him to feel embarrassed so I stuck one to Mr. Fett’s ship as well. I must say, I do like the climate here. Pleasantly dry.”
She smiled, in a way that was somehow disarming until you refocused and remembered what the smile was attached to. “You know, we’re actually somewhat related! In the Jedi sense, at least. I’m not sure how you’ve kept up with master-student relationships in the Temple since you left, but that nice dear Yoda trained me for a few years.”
Dooku did his very best to contain a nervous swallow.
“I have surpassed my old Master,” he said. “I doubt even he could defeat me now.”
“Oh, that’s quite possible,” Tosh agreed, nodding. “Yoda’s always been sentimental, you know. He finds it so hard to fight seriously. It’s not something I’d call a character flaw, but it is what it is.”
She shrugged. “I’d very much appreciate it if we didn’t have to fight today, you know. Since I know you’re a Sith, what about if you give me information on your Master? I know that betrayal is the kind of thing the Sith like to do, and that way we don’t have to fight.”
Dooku evaluated his options.
All it would take for his plans to hold together would be for him to be confident in his ability to defeat this Jedi Knight. This mere… Jedi Knight.
This mere… Rancor… Jedi Knight…
The other option was looking appealing. It was difficult to deny that.
“It’s hard to believe,” Mace Windu admitted, leaning back in his chair.
It was a common posture in the Jedi Council whenever this particular Knight was reporting to them, and Mace felt a most un-Jedi-like pang of jealousy for Yarael Poof. Long-necked and calm, the Quermian Master was the only one able to look Tosh in the eye without either leaning back or standing up.
“Hmm,” Yoda mused. “Mistaken you are not, I assume?”
“Being mistaken is always a possibility, Master,” Tosh answered. “But the plan that Dooku told me does seem to make a good deal of sense… it’s one of those plans where the Sith would win no matter which side of the war was triumphant.”
She spread her massive hands. “It could all be a lie… but it does explain a few things, which leads me to think it might be true. I’d recommend at least testing it.���
“A good approach,” Ki-Adi-Mundi said, to nods from Plo Koon and Sasee Tiin.
“It ties into what Master Gallia has been discovering recently as well,” the latter said. “The Trade Federation’s involvement in this is unsurprising, but the Techno Union, Intergalactic Bank Clan… again, investigation is needed.”
A ripple of agreement ran around the Council.
“And what of the clone army?” Yoda asked. “Commissioned by us, the Kaminoans were told.”
“Oh, I thought the best thing to do was to send them to make sure that nice Senator Amidala was safe,” Tosh replied, with a pleasant smile.
Windu frowned, then looked over at Yoda.
“When was the last time we got an update from Kenobi and Skywalker?” he asked.
“It’s been… a while,” Yarael Poof said, doing his neck exercises. “Last contact was shortly after they reached Tatooine. They were going to avoid broadcasting to make sure they weren’t tracked down.”
Mace Windu activated a holocommunicator.
“Old Folks Home to Guiding Light,” he said. “Knight Kenobi. What is your situation?”
“Guiding Light copies,” a hazy image of Obi-Wan Kenobi replied. “Master Windu, I think we just liberated Tatooine by accident.”
“By accident?” Ki-Adi-Mundi replied. “How exactly did you-”
He stopped, remembering the missions that Kenobi and his Padawan had been on.
“Never mind, carry on,” he requested. “What happened?”
“Someone sent us an army,” Obi-Wan said. “We didn’t actually order them to do anything, but Senator Amidala gave some speeches and I think things sort of escalated from there…”
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Congratulations on your milestone! If you are still doing this, can I request a jukebox roulette for Rex with a F! Reader or OC, with the song:
I'm so excited to see what you do with this!
Thank you so much @callsign-denmark !
You are such a sweetheart.
I listened to this song, and then the album and I just love this band! Thank you for introducing them to me!
Alright, so I hope you love my interpretation of this, it might not be what you were hoping for, but I tried.
Love oo
Glowing In The Dark
Warnings: Severe injury, tears, begging, pleading, declarations of love, realities of war, passing out from exhaustion, refusing to leave, surgery, symbiotic relationship, angst, hurt/comfort. I think that's it. If I miss anything please let me know.
Main Master List | Star Wars Jukebox Roulette | AO3 Link
The bruises, cuts, and pain that radiated on your face and body, was too much for Rex. He held your hand as you waited for a medic. The fighting had been especially brutal, and the med tent was inundated with casualties, some far worse than yours.
Tears pricked his eyes as you lay there moaning in pain.
“You’re alright, cyar’ika. You’re going to be alright. Just hang in there. Please.”
He pressed a subtle kiss to the back of your hand, not that he really needed to be subtle, every single person part of the 501st knew you two were together. It was the worst kept secret, and frankly neither of you cared.
He certainly didn’t, when you showed up in his life you were a light in the darkness.
Not just figuratively, but also quite literally. You’d fallen into a bioluminescent pond and when you came upon Rex and General Skywalker, with your own elite Commando unit, he thought you were a glowing angel in the dark.
It was thanks to your ethereal appearance, he survived that mission. The other side, thought you were a ghost, and scared them into dropping their weapons.
You coughed, and groaned in pain, he squeezed your hand, “Cyar’ika, hang in there. Just think about what we’re going to do next shore leave. You promised me to take me… what was that again, oh right window shopping. Whatever that is. You said we’d spend the day together, relaxing and enjoying the day. So… you need to hold on so we can do that together.”
The warm liquid filling his eyes was getting to be too much, as he subtly brushed them away.
“Remember the last time we were on Trip Zip, you convinced me to go to a poetry reading. I know I grumbled all night about it, but I’ll gladly suffer through another night of that if it means I get to sit beside you, holding your hand, feeling your body pressed against mine. So please hold on.”
There was a tear that slid down your cheek, as the pain was becoming unbearable.
“MEDIC!” Rex called again, hoping someone was free. Where was Kix when he needed him!
“Rex…” you softly whispered.
He leaned in closer, “What is it, cyar’ika?”
“I … I …” you coughed again, “ I love … you.”
“I love you, too, but right now save your strength. Just stay awake for me, okay?”
Your head moved slowly, an almost imperceptible nod.
“Do you remember our first night together? How hard you held on to me, never wanting to let me go? That’s how hard I need you to fight right now. I need you to keep awake, to stay here with me. Please, you’re my light in the dark. I can’t lose you.”
The usually stoic voice trembled out of his mouth. He didn’t want to lose it, he needed to stay strong for you.
With each passing minute and second, he felt his heart screaming more and more for you, begging for you to not leave him. To stay by his side, to always stay.
“Baby …” his voice was barely above a whisper, the only person who could hear him was you, “don’t leave me. Please. I’ve learned to bear the loss of so many of my brothers, I’ve tried to be strong, to not let it get to me, but … please.” He pressed his forehead against your hand, “Please, I won’t make it if you leave me too.”
His body slowly moved closer, kneeling beside the stretcher you were on, “I’ve learned to bear their passing, the responsibility of their loss, of what it means to be Captain, and … I promise, I’ll bear everything else. I’ll do everything and anything, just please … please stay.”
Tears streamed down his cheek as he felt the grip that had been so strong moments slowly start to wane.
“MEDIC!” He shouted again, praying this time that one of the medics were free.
“Vod?” Kix ran over to the tent the minute he heard Rex’s voice, he’d just made it back from the front but as soon as he saw your face, the way your body slowly started to relax, he knew there was no time.
Rex turned to look at his vod, tears trickling down his face as he clenched your hand against his chest, “Vod, I … I can’t see her glow… where’s her glow?”
“MEDIC TEAM ON ME!”
Within an instant you were lifted away from Rex and taken behind the surgical screen, Rex stayed kneeling on the ground in that very spot, afraid to move, afraid that if he did he’d lose his connection to you.
Despite everyone trying to coax him to a seat, to rest, to get some food, he refused. He simply waited kneeling in that spot, his eyes closed the entire time you were in surgery. It was almost six hours later when Kix and his team brought you back to him. You looked better, there was a slight glow to your skin. Despite the fact it had almost been a year since you fell into that bioluminescent pool, you still glowed in the dark.
“Don’t worry she’ll be alright,” Kix pressed his hand against Rex’s shoulder, “took out quite a bit of shrapnel, fixed a few broken bones, and a perforated bowel, but she’ll be alright. Once we get them onboard the Resolute, she’ll be going straight into a bacta tank.”
Rex crumpled against the ground as soon as he knew you were safe, he was beyond exhausted from the stress and anxiety of almost losing you. Kix, simply smirked, shaking his head as they arranged for him to have a cot right beside you.
Main Master List | Star Wars Jukebox Roulette | AO3 Link
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#575 follower celebration!#Jukebox Roulette#Love oo#I hope you guys have fun with this#Follower Celebration#Star Wars Fic Roulette#Fic Roulette#star wars the clone wars#star wars: the clone wars#star wars#starwars#the clone wars#the Mandalorian#Andor#Book of Boba Fett#original trilogy#Obi-wan#Ahsoka#The Bad Batch#star wars prequels#Didn't expect to do another follower celebration so soon#pick your character#tell me your favourite song#clone wars rex#clone captain rex#rex clone wars#captain rex#rex#rex x f!reader#captain rex x female reader
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how many times is someone on tumblr gonna tell me “i’ll get back to u after work” and then i never hear from them again 😔
#CLIPPY ANON PLS I STILL WANNA TALK#sigh#the one that got away….#skfkgkd#📎#it’s happened again but a completely different set of circumstances#and it’s only been a day this other person might still get back to me lol#i’m just waxing emotional about clippy anon#never got to ask it all the questions i had… i still have so many unanswered questions
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