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phoenixyfriend · 3 years

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I’ve been trying to figure out the best obi wan ship. They all have one slightly problematic thing this way or that. I’ve landed on the idea of obi wan and an equal is pretty top tier. But then I saw a picture of Coran from voltron. Coran and Obiwan might be a disaster but also both are dad shaped, both are bad ass, both are ginger, both have an accent. I think it could work. But another part of me is like Coran is just obi and jarjar mashed together. At the very least they hooked up.

Hey I just had restaurant ramen and Starbucks and actually feel like a human being so let's do something unnecessary but funny. I'm taking this as a challenge, anon.

Also IMO Coran has more in common with C3P0 than with JarJar

So obviously, both of these happen in Big Space, but the difference appears to be density. We see about the same complexity of culture and species interactions, but Voltron covers more galaxies. It's vaguely implied that Earth, at least, is the only planet with sapient life in the Milky Way.

I think the way I want to play this out, culturally, is that the Voltron area of the universe covers a much wider, but much more sparsely populated area, while the SW-verse is just the one very densely populated (in part because apparently humans just went Literally Everywhere) galaxy, where they didn't necessarily bother with developing the tech to go to other galaxies (except Rishi, which only sort of counts) because they haven't really even charted out their own yet. It was never contacted by the Voltron side of things because [checks notecards full of excuses] it's really far away from Altea and all that, and the Force shielded the galaxy from Galra interests because Reasons.

All this to say that the two franchises didn't interact until after the Voltron plotline was already over. We'll say it went mostly canon, except Allura survived because uhhhhhhhhhhhhhh fuck that.

We'll say that this is mid-TCW, you know, before Obi-Wan is a bundle of repressed traumas and bad coping mechanisms that's lost almost everyone he's ever loved to the dark side through death or corruption. He's still (mostly) okay! Anakin's not dark (or at least, not as dark as he could be; Obi-Wan doesn't know about the Tuskens), and Ahsoka's still in good standing and most people are alive and--and okay the army is a massive ethical violation he hates with his very soul and he misses Qui-Gon and Anakin's keeping secrets and pulling away from him every day but He's Fine, Guys.

He's Fine.

In comes a ship from not Wild Space, but beyond that. Intergalactic visitors, from the direction of the deeply concerning Force bullshit they felt a few years ago. Translation tech is decent enough on both sides that they get to talking pretty quickly. The explorer is actually a member of the Blade of Marmora, who gets the absolute most basic info (approximately this many inhabited planets, approximately this many trillions of sapients in the recorded galaxy, basic structure of the government for the past however many years, most recent conflict, etc.)

BoM person is like "cool, okay so you guys are really well set-up so I'm just gonna head back and kick this up a few rungs of the coalition ladder because this is way above my paygrade, I'll make sure you get some diplomats who can maybe help out with the whole galactic civil war situation as neutral parties."

The Voltron Coalition does send a diplomat! They, uh, also send Coran, who isn't technically a diplomat, but he's high-level.

The thing is, okay, that Coran is mostly just... passably competent at things. He's a jack of all trades, master of none type. He knows a lot of things, actually, but his practical knowledge in high pressure situations tends to be up in the air. He knows how to fix the Castle Ship and various technologies, but all of that info is ten thousand years out of date. He was a competent fighter at one point but these days his back gives out. He's very knowledgeable regarding intergalactic politics but, again, that information is ten thousand years out of date. He's also a little prone to social gaffs in dicey situations (e.g. the inciting incident in the Voltron Show episode where he misses the single day with clear skies), but puts in so much goddamn effort to make things happen.

In this manner, he's like a warped mirror of what Obi-Wan is and could be.

THAT SAID

Coran is actually really good with teenagers, and specifically with training them.

And Obi-Wan... isn't.

Obi-Wan's snarky and snippy and sassy, and he's decent enough at teaching and he's great at being a jokey friend and all, but he's not necessarily very good at emotions. And unfortunately for Obi-Wan, the teenagers he spends the most time with are Really Full Of Emotions. He tries, bless him, but he's just... he doesn't respond well to emotional conversations at the best of times.

His son-figure saying "You're like a father to me" leads to a response of... radio silence. Guys. That's not the mark of a man who knows how to talk about his feelings with the people he cares about.

In swans Coran with the various other diplomatic envoys of the visiting extragalactic community. The entire situation is really leading to a lull in the war because nobody wants to risk pissing off this clearly well-funded, well-powered third party. As a result, many of the High Generals can interact with the envoys, even if they spend quite a bit of time eyeing the Separatist representatives on the other side of the room, because clearly Everyone Needs A Seat At This Table.

It's a very tense situation.

Obviously, Coran is exactly the weird uncle that goes around telling plausibly-exaggerated stories about Weblums and Yalmors and Balmeras. I'm going to say at least one former Paladin is there, maybe Hunk. Hunk's fun, and also very willing to help Coran make friends and seem Amicable instead of Distant by correcting some of the exaggerations. There's a nice, calm atmosphere in a bubble around Coran and his nonsense, and it's a weird situation but arguably just... you know. It's good. He's good at making people feel safe around him.

Cue the hissed argument between Skywalker and Kenobi. The actual cause of said argument isn't important, just the fact that, in a dark corner where they're less likely to cause a PR issue, Anakin and Obi-Wan are having it out. Anakin's maybe twenty, still a lanky ragebaby, all that fun stuff. Obi-Wan is a the endpoint of every too-young brotherdad. He's thirty-six but feels like he's sixty-three. He's tired, but trying so damn hard to still connect with Anakin and just--just--

Obi-Wan gives himself a few minutes to calm down before following Anakin. He doesn't even remember what they were arguing about, really, but he has to mend the bridge before it frays even more than it already has. If Anakin goes to Palpatine for advice again, he's going to... do something. Obi-Wan isn't sure what, but he just has to fix this.

What he finds is... well, Anakin did end up going to vent to a man of an earlier generation who acts like a slightly eccentric older relative, but it's not Palpatine for once.

The goofy, slightly abrasive but mostly charming, brightly-colored representative of the Voltron Coalition is standing in the little balcony that Anakin's made it to, listening as Obi-Wan's recently-knighted padawan vents. The man nods and makes noises at the appropriate times, and then asks questions that are... maybe a little too accurate.

"You said that you view him as a father, that he raised you after you left your mother."

"Well, yeah, but he doesn't think I'm ready, or--"

"No parent ever does."

"...my mom thought I was ready to become a Jedi."

"I can't speak for your mother," the representative says, "but the princess of my people, Allura... I half-raised that girl from the beginning, and after the destruction of Altea, we were all the other had left. I watched her lead battles and bring life to planets, trying to rebuild a universe out of the ashes of what we'd left behind... I saw the evidence with my own eyes, and I still, every time, I worried for her."

"Why?"

"I worried that she'd be hurt, that she wasn't ready, that she'd make a decision she regretted. Often, she did, and I had to help her back up, and while she's always come back, stronger than before... she is the closest thing I have ever had to a daughter, and I will always worry for her. Every parent does. Do you think, perhaps, that your own Jedi Master, that you consider a father, may worry because he looks at you like a son? That it's not that he doesn't trust you, but that he doesn't trust the world around you?"

Obi-Wan feels his heart in his throat.

The conversation continues in that vein. While Obi-Wan can't say he likes the fact that this stranger is putting words in his mouth, if only as hypotheticals, he can't deny that there's a part of him that relaxes as Anakin does, as every frustrated fresh-knight question gets a measured elderly-steward response that's angled to consider the interpretation that favors Anakin and Obi-Wan in equal measure. Every word encourages Anakin to talk things out and lay boundaries and express his frustrations to Obi-Wan in the plainest words possible.

There's a story in there, more than one. The representative tends to go off on tangents, ones that Anakin sometimes finds interesting and sometimes just resigns himself to. Mostly, though, it goes well, and Obi-Wan... well, he's always been 'a nosy little bastard,' according to quite a few people.

(In his defense, the terms they'd used about Quinlan's 'investigative personality' had been quite a bit stronger.)

He eavesdrops to the end, and Anakin doesn't notice at all. Obi-Wan's not sure if he should try to address Anakin's lack of awareness of the world around him. He's not technically Anakin's master anymore. The comment may be taken as a criticism of his worth and capability, rather than a sincere desire to see his padawan not die.

He approaches the representative instead. He intends to introduce himself. Instead, the first words that tumble out of his mouth are:

"How do you do it?"

The man--older than he looks from a distance, more wrinkles than the bright hair would suggest, but not quite elderly yet--turns and lifts a brow. "Hm?"

"I'm sorry, I'm--" Obi-Wan grimaces. "I'm Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi. The young man you were just talking to is my former padawan, er, my former apprentice. I've been finding it harder and harder to speak with him over the past few years, and it seems that every interaction we have leads to an argument. How do you... manage that? I can't get him to listen to me at all."

"Ah, teenagers," the man sighs.

"He's twenty."

The representative pauses, and turns to him. "Are you the one he says raised him? The father?"

"Well... yes, I suppose that's one way to phrase it," Obi-Wan says, eyes darting to the side. He doesn't know how to explain the whole attachment situation to someone who barely knows what a Jedi is. He has even less of an idea of how to explain his own broken ability to speak of emotion, the parts of his mind that Bant clucks over and attributes to his own complicated relationship with Qui-Gon. "I had custody as his primary guardian from ages nine to nineteen and was the primary individual for handling his schooling, health, and general upbringing."

"That sounds to me like a very convoluted way of saying you were his father in all but name."

Obi-Wan grimaces. "I'm not exactly old enough to be his father, and I wasn't exactly the person he was supposed to learn from; I was the... back-up option."

"It seems he cares for you very much."

"He didn't have much of a choice," Obi-Wan says, with the kind of helpless smile and awkward shrug he's long gotten used to sharing with people when they ask. "And I assure you he'd have been happier with the man that was meant to teach him."

"I'd say that the 'would have' in this situation is much less important than what is," the representative says. Obi-Wan probably should have paid more attention to his name. "I wasn't in a position to define my relation to Allura or her father in the way that truly suited our situation, by... oh, tradition, social norms, public relations, take your pick. I was a very well-regarded official, of course, but I wasn't royalty, not even nobility, and I certainly wasn't wasn't legally or publicly part of the family. But for all the limitations there, I was still able to find ways to tell her and her family what they meant to me, and they in return. Your apprentice cares for you very much, and I'm sure you care back, but I'd hazard quite the guess that you've no idea how to tell him that."

"I... I shouldn't," Obi-Wan says. "I'm fond of him, of course, but I've no wish to smother him, and to simply say it would be undignified. I imagine he'd laugh in my face."

The representative raises one eyebrow and takes a sip of his drink.

"Master Kenobi," he says carefully. "Might I suggest you go find your young man, tell him you love him, and perhaps give him a hug?"

Obi-Wan's face flares red. It's been years since anyone short of Yoda has spoken to him like that.

"I'm not a child," he sniffs, trying to angle enough away that the blush isn't as noticeable. He's damnably prone to such things. "You're not that much older than me."

The man laughs, and Obi-Wan lifts his glass to his lips in a futile attempt to hid the embarrassment a little more. "Oh, not counting the stasis, I've well reached the age of six hundred and twenty-four, my boy!"

Obi-Wan chokes on his drink.

The man laughs a little more, but thumps him on the back until he's breathing normally again.

"Yes, most of the humans I've told have had quite the reaction!" the representative assures him. "But yes, even with the times adjusted to what any given local year is, I am significantly longer-lived than most species."

"No kidding," Obi-Wan manages. He wipes at his mouth with the back of his hand and looks over at the representative. He takes in the wrinkles and bright eyes, and says, "Well, I must say you look very well for a near-human of such an age. I can only name one person in that category that has managed better, and I haven't seen her since I was a child."

"I shall take that as the compliment it's intended to be," the representative says, twisting the edge of his mustache and beaming.

The man is... well, goofy, really, and quite a bit older than Obi-Wan had thought, but he's quite the charmer. Obi-Wan faintly compares him to a few different people in the back of his mind, but nothing quite fits. For all that the man is quite the jokester and--going by some things he'd seen from the corner of his eye in the main party--a master of physical comedy, the representative is actually more competent than he looks, and for all his visible age, not bad to look at. He is also, seemingly, an expert in dealing with teenagers and young adults, something Obi-Wan himself is... decidedly not.

He really should go speak with Anakin.

And there's a war to fight.

He doesn't really have much time, even with the recent lull.

He's in no place to be looking at the clean-shaven jaw and wondering what it would feel like under his lips, or to let himself consider whether this man would be the kind to have an hours-long discussion as to the narrative forms common in other galaxies, and whether they have anything paralleled to those in Obi-Wan's own, or if this man would show the same enthusiasm over teas that he'd shown over the hors d'oeuvres inside.

He should... really go find Anakin.

"I suppose it's time to find my padawan," he says, more to fill the air than anything. "Er... thank you, both for speaking with him, and for speaking with me."

"Not a problem at all, Master Kenobi!" the representative says, and Obi-Wan realizes that there's one last thing he may have... forgotten.

"This is terribly embarrassing, but I don't believe I caught your name?" Obi-Wan says.

"Coran Hieronymus Wimbleton Smythe, at your service!" the man says, with a sweeping bow. "As you can imagine, most simply call me Coran."

"Then I insist you call me Obi-Wan," he says, and before he can stop himself, "Might I bother you with an invitation to a shared tea time? You seem a knowledgeable fellow, and I'd appreciate the chance to... eh, pick your brain, shall we say."

It's not the smoothest come on he's ever put out there, or the most easily interpreted, but... well. Perhaps it's for the best. He's rather often found his tastes going in irresponsible directions, and it'll be much easier to brush this off without diplomatic incident if there's room for Coran to politely ignore the less platonic options.

Obi-Wan hopes he doesn't.

It's very selfish of him, but a dalliance with an older gentleman... well. He does, perhaps, make such irresponsible decisions, even now.

"I do believe I'd enjoy such a thing!" Coran enthuses, grabbing Obi-Wan's hand and shaking it in large, effusive movements.

Oh, this is a terrible idea, Obi-Wan thinks, even as he exchanges comm numbers and says goodbye.

Still.

He likes the idea of having at least a little fun, sedate or less so, while they have some time to themselves.

#Obi Wan Kenobi #Coran Smythe #Coran #coran hieronymus wimbleton smythe #anakin skywalker #Star Wars #Voltron #crossovers #Phoenix Posts #Phoenix Answers Asks #parenting

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babytortie · 3 years

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unexpected

unexpected. ❘ stanley uris x reader.

a/n: this was requested by anon - love ur recent stanley fic! was wondering if you’re cool with doing a smut for him? (aged up of course!) if you’re comfortable, could you make the reader more dominant in bed/stanley being more submissive? perhaps and enemies to lovers, hate sex type. other than that, any plot line is just fine.

* hope this lives up to your expectations! tyty for requesting this one.

summary: in which stanley and reader argue worse than richie runs his trashmouth. after burning some pent-up tension one day, the two take a turn for the better and become more than just enemies.

warnings: s m u t. some fluff at end. <3

contains: enemies to lovers, degrading, hair tugging, harsh kisses w/ slight blood, mild orgasm denial, praises, rough and unprotected sex.

* all characters ( including reader ) of the loser's club are 18+ in this one-shot.

~ 3.4k words.

you twirled a strand of hair between your fingers, a magazine placed on your lap, and beverly's head rested on your shoulder, looking at the pages with you.

it was the summer and the group was all back home on break from college. the loser's wanted to hang out and all eight of you were at bill's house right now. on various couch cushions and seats in the living room. his parents were away for the night and the seven brought clothes to stay at his just in case it got a bit late.

"oh, do you think he's hotter? or him?" bev asked, leaning in closer to point at the page. it was some magazine about the hottest actors of the year, achievement wise. though some hot men that were in it was currently grabbing beverly's, well, and your attention too. you glanced down at the page, slightly comparing both actors and voiced, "definitely him."

the guys overheard this and rolled their eyes. they were taking turns playing on bill’s newest nintendo sixty-four. on the floor below you, sat the four a few feet away, this was because they wanted to be scooted closer to the television. even though it was perfectly fine to put their backs against the couch. typical males.

you worried for their eyesight, especially richie’s, since right now he and bill were battling on some game you didn’t know the name of while being too close to the screen. eddie was on a chair next to the couch and sat by you, wheezing as he watched how close of a tie it was between them. mike and stanley were sitting on the floor with them on either side, cheering on who they wanted to win.

this was while ben sat on the other side of bev and read some book that just came out earlier this week. a quarter of ben’s focus was on his hand. it was resting on beverly’s thigh and drawing small, mindless shapes in content. the two were newly dating after pinning on each other for forever.

"i think we should play would you rather!" mike turned his head and suggested after hearing your conversation with the red head. bill had just died on the game causing richie to jump up and cheer while blowing out the other three's ear drums.

ben closed his book and sat up straighter. he took a glimpse over at beverly to see what her decision was. eddie hesitantly agreed when you and bev nodded. “s-sure!” bill got up and pulled stan with him.

one weekend about four years ago when the denbrough’s were home and bill had the group of losers over, they noticed how you all squished on the seats in the living room. surprising bill with an extra couch a month after this, they were able to successfully squeeze it into the room and push it against the other wall.

the four others started to pile on the other couch a few feet away from the three of you and eddie who still sat on the single chair next to you. beverly pulled her head up and leaned over to whisper in your ear, “be nice to stanley please.”

knowing it wasn’t funny, looking at her anyway with a confused expression, you lied. "stanley who?" she immediately turned her neck back at you, probably receiving some whiplash and raised an eyebrow to challenge you.

"i'm serious y/n." beverly laughed dryly. you sighed and replied a short agreeable response. “alright bev, as long as he doesn’t start it, then i won’t do anything.” after, you zipped your lips and threw an imaginary lock in the direction behind eddie.

she smiled at you in thanks and then you two turned towards the room, noticing everyone was ready. “b-being as it w-was mike’s id-dea, he can g-go first.” bill announced while glancing around the room.

mike nodded and turned to the one who still wore coke-bottle glasses years later. “richie, would you rather never wear underwear again or never wear socks again?”

ben and bill stifled a laugh, already knowing what his response was going to be. eddie rolled his eyes as richie answered, “underwear since i go commando sometimes anyway.”

you put your finger in your mouth, pretending that you were about to throw up and mike shook his head at richie. you turned to your right and left, seeing eddie’s and beverly’s disgusted faces.

”okay, eddie spaghetti.” he paused. the seven of you looked at eds, who had already put his hand over his face in annoyance. you and beverly laughed when the shorter boy muttered, “here we go.” richie smirked and continued. “would you rather, accidently send a nude to your boss or your parents? and by parents i mean your mom and i.”

he rolled his eyes, “absolutely not richie. my mom would never get with you and i would die of embarrassment if it were sonia. she’d probably kidnap and lock me in my old room, never to be seen again. probably boss.”

eddie turned to you after the group cackled of laughter, especially richie at the response he was given. the two of you currently shared a science class together in college and the asthmatic based some of his question off of this. "alright y/n, would u rather hook up with one of football players or with mr. jackson down at the science lab?”

you placed the palm of your hand on your cheek, into a thinking position and replied. "well, i kind of answered that question at last weekend’s party?" beverly jumped up at this and gasped. "no way! with which one?"

"i don’t kiss and tell." you smirked. the others gagged at that. “ah okay, i see. that’s where you went when we couldn’t find you again.” ben commented. stanley had been a bit quiet during the conversation and decided to speak up. adding to this, while looking at you pointedly. "you kind of just did tell and admitted at the fact that you sucked off some guy.”

you weren’t usually the type to get flustered during conversations like this. instead owning it as if you weren’t bothered. this helped you avoid any teasing or any richie’s usual jokes. "at least i'm getting some!" muttering in stanley’s direction.

"i swear if you guys argue for one more minute, i'm going to shoot myself. go y/n. it’s your turn." mike spoke up in between you and stanley, trying to get the game rolling again.

you smiled, feeling a little eager at the next question. you looked at the curly haired sitting across the room from you. the others groaned knowing you were about to pick on him in some kind of way. "uris. for the rest of your sex life, would you rather be the top or bottom?”

he blinked in your direction, probably wanting to smack you for the inappropriate question. “depends, is it with anyone specific?” you looked down sheepishly, then back up. is this a trick question? i mean sometimes you did find stanley a little bit too attractive. “do you want it to be?” deciding to quip back with equal attitude, you asked.

the group looked between the two of you while waiting for a response from uris. the tension was so thick that it could be cut with a knife. letting out a scoff in return, he looked at you in the eyes and glared. speaking in a low tone, you almost didn’t hear him. "uh, i don’t know.”

"what do you mean? you don’t know?" richie snickered.

bill, beverly, ben, and mike started to get the picture together. eddie figured it out just a second before them, when you burst out giggling. before you could stop from helping yourself, you let out a harsh jab. “oh shit, that explains why you’re always so uptight! maybe you should unbutton some of that polo? might help so you aren’t choking on all that innocence."

that only made matters worse, the last pin in place to set him off. stanley angrily spewed some words under his breath. only catching your name, you figured it was most likely something badly about you. quickly getting up from his spot, his curls bounced up and down when he rushed upstairs to one of the bedrooms.

the others watched him disappear from the top step sadly and looked back at you with the look. you had the decency to look a bit guilty, an awkward grimace on your face. "uh, why are you all looking at me like that?"

eddie leaned over to elbow you and gave his puppy dog eyes in pleading. you sighed but started getting up anyway. you laced your hands together in front of your stomach, nerves a bit jittery at being in a room alone with him. "well, to state my case we were all having that kind of discussion! if he wasn't such a prude..." you trailed off.

ben got up, patting your shoulder. "we all know this but stanley is sensitive about these kinds of things. go apologize while we're on break now and we’ll get some drinks going."

you nodded and turned back around, starting towards the stairs and walked up slowly. richie decided this was a good time to be the loud trashmouth that he is and shouted. "it was nice knowing you, y/n!"

shaking your head, you reached the last step and rounded the corner. hearing a slap noise, you assumed tozier was probably getting hit on the back of his head. a moment later a "beep beep" came from mike and you let out a small laugh in relief that they had your back against the loud mouth.

strolling down the hallway, you spotted the second guest bedroom door closed and decided to knock on it. stan heard a faint knock and got up from the bed to open it, seeing y/n he groaned. "oh, it's just you."

you ignored his disappointed comment and bit your lip. looking up and down to observe his new look. he must have just changed. wearing a regular light blue t-shirt and grey sweats. you shook your head and looked up to see his grin, catching you in the act of checking him out.

rolling your eyes in response, like he usually did and walking around him, you closed the bedroom door shut after stepping inside. you grabbed a handful of stanley’s shirt and pushed him against the back of the door. more like he allowed you to do this but you were definitely in control of the situation.

you leaned in towards him and swiped the back of your thumb over his bottom lip to test his reaction. when he didn’t swat your hand away, you went on the tip of your toes and brushed his lips against yours.

stanley gasped into your mouth and deciding to use this as an opportunity, you placed the tip of your tongue on the bottom of his lip. right before you could actually do this, he apparently read your mind and left his mouth open purposely. you wanted to slap him.

nonetheless, he allowed you total access. surprising him on purpose, you shoved your tongue in his mouth. wishfully thinking about how you wanted to somehow choke him with it. he grabbed both sides of your shoulders and scooted you closer, clashing his teeth with yours. not wanting to let up the control he tried to grab, you grasped the back of his neck tightly and felt light-headed. sensing wetness pooling between your thighs from enjoying this too much, you cursed to yourself.

a small moan escaped out from your lips and as if it was his fault, you nipped his bottom lip. you tried to quickly get rid the thought of ever giving into stanley uris. he hissed sharply, tasting slight blood from the nick. uris mumbled. "bitch."

this angered you more. pulling away from his lips, you put on a fake smile. moving in a bit closer to mess with the collar of his shirt, you tugged on it roughly, your face still close with his. "ready to not be a virgin anymore, virgin?" you retorted.

he smirked, "as long as i'm not one anymore, i don't care who it's with. even someone like you." he emphasized in a nasty tone. you pulled the shirt up over his head and uttered out. "shut the hell up." stan hummed happily after his shirt was pulled up to see that you were glaring from his reply. the two of you heard loud steps down the hall by the stairs, so you placed a finger over his mouth.

after a moment later, you heard what you assumed was someone in the bathroom, closing door the shut. letting out a breath not realizing you were holding it, stanley took this as a distraction to slip your finger into his mouth. you gasped, eyes widening, "what the hell!"

pulling your hand back, you spoke and stared in his eyes to let him know just how serious you were. "here's how it's going to go if you want to get laid, uris. we're doing this my way. don't play around anymore and definitely don’t talk too much so i can picture literally anyone other than you."

stanley looked into your eyes, searching for any hints of a lie from your remark. when he saw your eyes looking clearly back into his, he sighed in defeat. not letting it show, he grinned nastily. ”fine by me, y/l/n.”

"now, bird-boy are you sure you can handle this?" you stated more than questioned, an eyebrow quirked up. you held onto the top of his sweats with an eyebrow quirked up. he clenched his jaw, gritting his teeth together so hard he hoped they wouldn't crack. "fuck you y/n."

“no, that’s what i’ll be doing to you.” disagreeing and putting your palm over him. “what do we have here?” you asked out loud, in general all snarky. he let out an annoyed noise when he felt you tease fingertips across his hard length. so, in retaliation, he grabbed your wrist and pushed the palm of your hand harder onto him.

you gasped at how big he was. you tried to cover the surprise, a ‘tsk, tsk’ falling from your lips. not letting go quickly enough stanley noticed this and smirked at you. frowning, you murmured. "ever heard of patience? such a bad boy."

uris let out a small, quiet groan from feeling your hands come off of him. which was something you caught and figured having teased him enough, you put your hands around the waistband of his pants. tugging them off along with his boxers. afterwards you pushed him down onto the bed and before he could do anything, you quickly made work of your shirt. pulling it over your head and unclipping your bra as well.

he put a hand through his curls, smoothing them out from the fall when he fell into the comforter. watching you, he could feel himself hardening painfully. he felt needy and done with the wait. pulling your wrist closer he pleaded. “come on, hurry. please y/n.”

”fine, you’ve waited long enough like a good little boy.” stanley flushed at your approving compliment and tried to hide it, looking down. you saw this when you moved to sit on top of him and smiled. grabbing his chin lightly, you tilted his head back up. while looking into his light brown eyes, you held his wrist and tugged his hand so it laid over on top your breast.

stanley’s breath hitched and you moved inwards toward his neck. your warm breath was touching his skin, feeling cheeks reddening more. uris felt, palmed, and squeezed a little as you sucked small hickeys on his neck. not to dark but enough to be just visible if one were close up.

kissing his cheek and tilting back up, he dropped his hand and you happened to see his cheeks and neck all red. the quick switch of his attitude still shocked you to the core. ”are you sorry for calling me a bad name, baby?” he ignored your comment like a brat and kissed the inside of your wrist. you melted a little in his touch before going back to the task at hand.

you slowly let out of his grasp to unbuckle the belt and unbutton your shorts. you shimmied out of them and wanting to hurry up, you just moved your panties to the side and out of the way. pumping him a few times, you started to align him to your center. before you moved down onto him, you placed your hand on his cheeks in a sweet gesture and silently asked for reassurance. he nodded and you slowly slid down into him, both of you letting out small moans. “feel so good.” you muttered.

stilled for a moment, you let yourself adjust to his length and him to the feel. your hips went back up and you moved in forward, kissing him again. it slowly turned into a sloppy make out when you slammed your hips back down again. his tongue shoved in your mouth when you gasped in pleasure. after you found a rhythm you babbled on and on about how stanley was doing so good for you.

"i need you to put your fingers on my clit and rub." you said softly but still in a demanding tone. directing his hand exactly where you wanted it, you nodded when he looked at you again. his fingers moved quickly, drawing out an orgasm that you felt nearing.

lacing your fingers through his curly hair. stanley let out a loud moan as you tugged the locks. "now for the sake of you being able to cum, i'm going to ask again. are you sorry my baby boy?" he really didn't want to have to see the satisfactory in your face if he apologized. though, after a small moment went by, he realized that you weren't joking.

he let out a small, almost incoherent whine. pleading you with his big hazel eyes, "i-i'm sorry y/n. so sorry, c-can i cum please?" stanley would have never thought he'd be the submissive type but he found himself melting at your praises, quite easily. he liked letting you have some control and for once being able to sit back.

you smirked at him and let go. patting his cheek in almost a mocking way. "awe such a good boy but i think you can wait another minute." his eyes widened and you placed your hands back up onto his chest, steadying your balance before moving your hips back up and down repeatedly and harshly against his. he moaned when you kept going back down on his cock. feeling his pelvis right up against your very sensitive bundle of nerves, you squirmed.

stanley smirked, feeling you tighten around him. knowing you were close was a relief. constantly feeling so good on him made him hard and straining inside of you. tears prickling in the back of his eyes and wanting to cum so badly was difficult. uris felt not wanting to disobey you was more important as he patiently waited. pushing harder on your clit is what caused you to unravel, tightening completely around him. "oh fuck! s-such a good boy. cum with me now."

he came so hard, the hardest ever. which wasn't much to go off on, from the obvious conversation before. feeling euphoria, you rode through your high and his, milking every last drop of cum. you started to feel shaky. before your hips gave out, you placed one last kiss on his slightly darkening hickey.

after you fell on the bed next to him, he pulled you close. you turned your head in his embrace, eyes widening. you knew without a doubt they looked like they were probably about to fall out of the sockets. assuming even bigger eyes then richie's usual ones due to his glasses.

uris pursed his lips, kissing the top of your forehead before he could overthink it. “we need to talk. y/n/n." you tried to open your mouth, but closed it again. stanley used your nickname, he has never used it before. you were in disbelief, frozen, and unable to say a word. he rescued you and spoke up again. "you know i don't hate you, right?"

you swallowed feeling like a brick was falling from your shoulders and nodded. "i don't hate you either stan. this is not what i was expecting though to make up." you giggled causing him to chime in. the awkwardness was finally settled but you paused and asked nervously. "do you think we're worse than eddie and richie?"

he shook his head, not even needing to think on it and responded sweetly. "no, we're okay now and i have a feeling that richie will tease eddie even after we're all dead."

you laughed together once more, agreeing with stan’s opinion which would probably be a proven fact one day. "that's true. poor eddie!" snuggling closer into his back and finally, truly feeling at peace.

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foriland · 3 years

Note

12 with Dick, Jason and sensory overload and /or noise sensitivity, for the angst prompt? 👀 ♥

Prompt 12: “Don’t! Just, stop. Stop talking.”

Hope this hits what you wanted Gem! <3

Warning for mild-ish panic attack.

--------

Jason’s ears were ringing as he brushed away his family’s concerns. He’s fine, he tried to convince them. He really was. Just because Joker was part of an Arkham breakout doesn’t mean that he would automatically have a panic attack. He’s not that pathetic. He just needed some time to himself.

If only Dick wasn’t blocking his way and Tim and Damian weren’t arguing somewhere in the Cave.

The latest Arkham breakout has set Joker, Scarecrow and Ivy on the loose, the latter two had already been rounded up earlier which only left the clown himself. And Jason was not freaking out. His heart was just running a bit too fast was all, lingering effects of that mild fear toxin that had managed to pushed through the cracks in his helmet. But no one knew that, and no one had too. The thing was diluted enough to hardly affect him at all.

Damian was yelling from his place at the showers, “I could have had him if you-”

“If I hadn’t saved your head?” One could hear the eyes roll in Tim’s voice.

“If you hadn’t tried to put your nose where you shouldn’t!”

Jason could tell that it was just their regular banter, even if they started to call each other some... undesirable words. That was just how they bond.

He rubbed his palm over his ear to hopefully stave away the panic in his chest and ringing in his ears. His other hand was busy trying to literally brush Dick away from him. This guy really needed to learn personal space.

“Jay, c’mon. You were hit by the gas, weren’t you?” Welp, so much for no one knowing. “Just stay for a while and let us look you over.”

Jason shook his head. “No no. Just get off me, Dick.”

Dick was apparently stubborn tonight and Jason was too tired and frayed to try to be intimidating. “No. Jason, please.”

Jason bit his tongue as he heard Damian screaming something in response to Tim’s ‘friendly’ insult. Control your breathing, he repeated to himself, control your breathing. “Fine. I’ll stay at the manor,” he bargained. “Happy?”

Dick wasn’t. “Jason, are you hiding an injury from us?”

“No-”

“Then please just let us check-”

Jason barely suppressed a flinch, breath stuttering for a moment as there was a loud slam from Tim and Damian’s argument followed by Bruce’s loud “Enough!” stopping the fight.

Apparently, he wasn’t subtle enough for Dick, whose eyes sharpened. “Jay something’s wrong.” Like he didn’t already know that. He had been having this problem since he was a kid! “Are you sure-”

His panic finally snapped into anger as he snarled, “Yes, Dick. I am fine. And I will continue to be so if. You. Move.”

Dick seemed stupefied enough to not stop Jason this time and he marched up the stairs to the grandfather clock, rounding it before running to his temporary room. At least he tried.

Energy seemed to have left his as soon as he reached the bedroom corridor, panic seizing up his throat. He dug his nails into his palms as he pressed down on his ears. There was still screaming, yelling- laughing- talking- voices just echoing into his ears no matter what he tried. He sucked in a breath as he pressed himself into a dark corner- he didn’t know where, he didn’t care.

He never understood why he always had panic attacks when this happens. Why his throat always closed up whenever his family fight, even if it was a playful banter that just sounded vicious. It had been happening even when he was still living with Willis and his mom.

In his defence, he had been getting better at controlling it, learning how to counter it, how to best calm himself down without attracting any sort of attention to himself. No one had ever notice it even if he was there, on the verge of a panic attack, because they didn’t need to know. He didn’t want them to. And it wasn’t his fault that he lost control this one time, it was the mild fear toxin slightly messing up his brain.

He swallowed another gulp of air, willing the ringing and yelling in his ear to just stop as he pulled himself up, stumbling to his temporary room. He fumbled to turn the doorknob, leaning against the doorframe before walking in. He didn’t get to close the door, however, as Dick was suddenly there following him in. Lips were moving but Jason couldn’t make out the words. There was just voices and yelling getting louder and louder-

Dick was holding his arms, blue eyes wide with concern and- It wasn’t supposed to be this way- Dick wasn’t supposed- No one was supposed to know. And Dick was still talking and-

“Don’t!” Jason blurted out, pulling back deeper into the darkness of his room, hoping that the darkness would bring him comfort today. It always was a hit and miss ever since he came back to life.

He finally was able to catch Dick’s words over the piercing ringing and echo in his mind. “Jay, it’s alright. It’s just me.”

He shook his head, willing Dick to understand. To just stop talking. He wasn’t experiencing a flashback. He’s just... He didn’t really know what was wrong with him. But he’ll be fine as soon as Dick stop talking and leave him alone.

“Little Wing, come here... fine... the manor, remember... okay...”

What little control he was starting to have over himself spiralled back out. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to just ignore. He’s with no one, hearing no one, seeing no one.

Except for Dick. Who was still there. Talking, blabbering.

“Shut up!” Jason finally snapped, a sob fighting its way out of him.

Luckily, Dick did.

Jason sucked in a breath, once, twice, thrice. His mind had started to clear slightly. The full impact of the knowing that Dick just saw him panicking tried to take his control away but he ignored it.

He felt hands on his arms, raised to press his palms into his ears, fingers clawing at his hair.

“Jay-”

“Don’t,” Jason cut him off, eyes opening to see Dick’s; wide, uncertain and concerned. “Just... stop. Stop talking. Don’t.”

Dick visibly swallowed, and Jason took that as a sign that Dick would stop making any sort of noises, as he turned away to his bed, dropping heavily onto the mattress. He pulled up his legs to his chest resting back against the headboard as he took another deep breath, closing his eyes and letting the panic subside. He could really use a cigarette right now. Too bad he was trying to stop smoking for his family’s sake. No need for them to suffer second-hand smoking, especially since he’s hanging around them so much now.

Dick had never been the one to sit still as he, predictably, started to approach him, albeit slowly, feet making only the slightest shuffle across the wooden floor, the sound purposely done for Jason’s sake. The mattress dipped slightly as Dick sat in front of him.

He cracked an eye open to his brother staring at him, lip pulled slightly between his teeth, nervous. And Jason’s automatic reaction to people staring at him after of during his panic attacks, was anger. He sometimes hated himself for it. “What?” he snapped.

Dick’s eyes flickered with a flinch. “What happened? Are you okay?”

Jason scowled. “I said I was fine, didn’t I?” He didn’t want to have this conversation with anyone, much less Dick.

“That- That wasn’t just fine, Jason.”

“So what? I freaked out, big deal. Not the first time, Goldie, and it ain’t gonna be the last.”

“But, Jay-”

“Forget that happened, Dick. Just go, leave me alone and let me sleep.” Jason rested his forehead onto his knees as he wrapped his arms loosely around his legs. He was tired, exhausted. But he’d be lying if he said that he could sleep right now. But a little lie had never hurt anyone. Not always.

There was a sigh. “I’m not leaving, Jay. I’m not. You’re obviously not fine and... it’s okay to not be and ask for help.”

“I don’t need help,” Jason mumbled, trying to ignore the cornered-trapped feeling in his chest. “I’m fine.”

He felt Dick shifting across the bed to rest beside him, the warmth and comfort of his brother was inviting. “Jason, can you at least tell me what is going on?”

No!, Jason wanted to scream. But he didn’t. He didn’t even realise he was talking until the words were falling out of his mouth and he couldn’t stop them. “I don’t know. I just get... freaked out when there are loud noises, voices specifically. I don’t know why but it always just... happens.”

Dick was quiet for a moment, and small, younger part of Jason was scared, of judgement, of disapproval, of rejection. “Is it just any... voices?”

Jason gave a half-hearted shrug. “Not really. Generally, it is when... you guys fight. Or even sometimes when you all are joking around and I... feel it. I never had a problem when patrolling, though, even before I died.”

“You mean this had been happening even before... How long has it been, Jay?”

“I don’t know.” He lifted his head to rest his chin on his knees, staring at the door they had left open. He hoped his other siblings hadn’t seen him earlier. He hoped Bruce hadn’t. “It’s been happening for as long as I can remember.”

“Anything I can help you with? Like... Can I do anything to help you with it?”

With another shrug he mumbled, “I don’t know.” Other than stop talking when Jason tells him to and leaving him alone when he wanted it, there really wasn’t much Dick could do.

“Can you at least tell me whenever you-”

He scoffed, finally turning to Dick. “And tell the whole family that I am more problematic than they think? That I cannot hold my head together just because someone decided to talk louder than a normal volume?”

“No, Jason. That’s not what I meant. Just... I cannot always tell whether or not you are... affected by something. Just do something to tell me if you are ever feeling overwhelmed. A signal, something.

Or maybe you can just pay more attention to your surroundings, Jason didn’t say. Instead, he breathed a quiet, “Okay.”

“Thank you,” was Dick’s unexpected reply. There was a beat, before he asked again, “Can I... hug you?”

Jason found himself giggling, a soft laughter flooding out of him. He understood and appreciated the gesture, but a lot of permission-asking in this family still amused him. “Of course, dimwit.”

His own smile was reflected on Dick, who did a gentle version of tackling him and Jason let himself be dragged under the sheets, Dick’s array of limbs cocooning him, for once making him feel safe, protected.

A thought struck him and he glanced at the door. Huh, when did it close? Who closed it?

He couldn’t pay it much attention as Dick’s fingers were starting to comb his hair. He hated and loved that his family knew just what he liked. His eyes closed as he felt Dick pressing a quick kiss to his forehead and he was too tired to protest the childish action, only burrowing into his brother’s shoulder.

#batfam #batman #fanfiction #Jason Todd #Red Hood #Dick Grayson #Nightwing #tw panic attacks #ask thingy #prompt fill #i ended up doing a teeny bit of projecting :P #Like not full blown #but like based on experience

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fireinmywoods · 3 years

Note

Can you explain trauma Kirk has in the cheating scene? Im new to star trek

Welcome!!! I hope you stick around for a while and become fully assimilated into the strange, delightful glory that is Trek fandom.

I can only speak for myself, but when I talk about Jim’s trauma, I’m referring to two main components (under the read-more for discussion of childhood abuse and Tarsus):

1. Jim’s abusive childhood

There’s a deleted scene from Jim’s childhood in the first movie in which his older brother Sam is shown running away from home. It‘s made clear that the “man of the house” Frank is at the very least verbally and emotionally abusive to both kids, and based on baby Jimmy’s reaction to Frank getting in his face, I don’t think it’s a stretch to imagine that it had or would later escalate to physical violence.

[Note: Because AOS and especially the extended universe are a hot mess, some pseudo-canon sources describe Frank as their uncle (Winona’s brother) while others have him as their stepfather. I’ve gone with stepfather, because I think it better explains why they stayed in that situation as long as they did.]

Sam says their mom doesn’t understand how Frank treats them when she’s not around (i.e., off-planet with Starfleet), which makes the case for a certain amount of neglect as well. Then there’s the AOS tie-in comic Operation: Annihilate, which shows the aftermath of the car incident, and in which Winona is pretty grossly depicted as an enabler of Frank’s abuse, telling Jimmy that Frank just gets mad sometimes and that he basically needs to suck it up and live with it. For the record, this comic is not part of my personal canon, as I think the exchange I’m describing is lazily characterized and does Winona unnecessarily dirty. (“He’s given us a home” - motherfucker, it’s a post-scarcity economy and you work for Starfleet! Get a goddamn apartment!) That said, I do think Winona bears significant responsibility for leaving her kids in that situation, since the most charitable read is that she wasn’t paying enough attention to realize how Frank was treating them. (I know at least one of my fandom friends disagrees on this point, and I’ll acknowledge that I have a dirty lens when it comes to childhood abuse and the enabling thereof. Your mileage may vary.)

Anyway. In this version of events, Jimmy doesn’t steal the car because he’s some innately shitheaded out-of-control rebel like the final cut suggests. In fact, Sam’s exposition tells us that up until this point Jimmy has been an exceptionally obedient, rule-following, “good” child. Here, he steals the car because Sam leaving and his own realization that he’s never going to be good enough to make Frank happy makes something in him snap. It’s a powerful moment which greatly enhances Jim’s characterization, and if you ask me it’s frankly criminal that they deleted this scene.

2. Tarsus IV

TOS Kirk is a canonical survivor of a famine and genocidal massacre on the colony Tarsus IV. Here again canon is a bit of a mess when it comes to Tarsus IV, and fanon has taken that canon and gone absolutely hog wild with it, but it is firmly established that Jim was just 13 at the time, which...woof. That’s dark as hell.

Now, it is not official AOS canon that this version of Jim was on Tarsus IV at the time of the massacre, but it’s also not official that he wasn’t. My take, which I think is shared by many in fandom, is that AOS Jim was sent there to live with family after the car incident as a sort of “get your head straight” move, and also (in my opinion) because Winona finally started cluing in that it probably wasn’t a great idea to leave him alone with Frank.

The TOS extended universe further establishes that Jim was understandably pretty messed up after the events of Tarsus, and that his father’s intervention was crucial to helping him recover and setting him on the path toward Starfleet and the Enterprise. In AOS, of course, George isn’t around to provide that support, and Jim’s already learned that he can’t rely on his mom, and he’s maybe stuck living with fucking Frank again. All of this builds on his earlier trauma in really terrible ways, and he never has the opportunity to actually heal from any of it.

Aftermath: PTSD and the cheating scene

Again, the abuse and Tarsus IV are both semi-canonical at best. However, I’d argue that they should be considered canon, because Jim’s character arc makes a lot more sense when they’re included. This double whammy of unresolved trauma and the almost total absence of emotional support go a long way toward explaining how the boy who grows up to be TOS Kirk in one timeline instead grows into the Jim Kirk we meet at the bar in 2255 of the Kelvin timeline - a “repeat offender,” reckless, directionless, emotionally detached, quick to meet violence with violence, and so very, very angry.

That’s why the scene where Spock lays into Jim for cheating on the Kobayashi Maru is so painful to me. Jim is up on display at the front of this hall, being stared at by basically everyone he knows, and Spock is criticizing him for missing the point of the exercise - specifically, lecturing him about needing to experience fear and control his reaction to it. Imagine how that would land for someone with as much trauma as Jim is carrying, who endured all he did as a powerless child, and who (in my telling of things) suffers to this day from panic attacks as a result. It’s, uh...it’s not great.

#maybe someday i'll actually finish jim's prequel and this will become clearer #in the meantime have a bunch of words in some semblance of order #fic related #kirk #star trek #aos #ask #anon

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winchester19-67 · 4 years

Text

Taking Care of You

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warnings: Passing out, Little bit of angst, Fluff

Word Count: 1,774

Square Filled: Bed Sharing (Fluff Bingo)

Square Filled: Bed Sharing (Dean Bingo)

Request by @theichabbieclub: Hello !!! Can I have Dean Winchester x reader? Reader has been so caught up in her work that they forget to eat. They get extremely lightheaded and stumble a little. Dean steadies them and he is worried when he finds out they forgot to eat. While he is making food they faint and land (luckily) on the couch. When he's done, he comes back,at first he thinks that they're just laying down but he kinda freaks out when he realizes that reader is unconscious. ( I forget to eat sometimes) THANK YOU🥺💚

A/N: This was written for @spnfluffbingo, @spndeanbingo, and @supernatural-jackles Bi Weekly Writing Challenge with the prompt. “We found each other. That’s all that matters.”

“Take a break.” You jump a bit and you turn around to see Dean walking into the library.

“I can’t,” you mumble before looking down at the book that you have in your hand. Dean walks over and carefully slides the book out of your hand before setting it down onto the table.

“Yes you can,” Dean says. You roll your eyes a bit before leaning over, but Dean blocks you before you’re able to grab the book off of the table.

“Dean…”

“How many hours of sleep have you gotten since yesterday?”

You take a deep breath. “I don’t know. Three maybe.”

“Go take a nap.”

“Dean, you and Sam told me that you need my help with this case. You two can do your part now please let me do mine.”

“You won’t be able to help at all if you keep running yourself into the ground.”

“I’m alright,” you tell Dean stubbornly as you turn around to walk over to a bookshelf. You’re halfway there when you lose your balance and almost fall to the floor.

“Woah!” Dean hollers as he throws his arm out to catch you before you face plant. He helps you to get your balance and you give him a grateful smile.

“Thanks.”

“No problem,” Dean says. “Now please go take a nap or eat something or whatever it is you need to do to take care of yourself. I’ll take over for a while and you can relax.”

“No,” you tell him. “Dean, you won’t hardly let me hunt anymore and I get it because I keep you both distracted because you worry about me too much. Fine. I’ll give up hunting. But I will not give up helping you and Sam and you are going to have to get that through your thick head.”

“Sweetheart, I’m not saying that you should quit helping us,” Dean tells you softly. “You have no clue how much Sammy and I appreciate everything that you do for us. All I’m asking is that you slow down a bit to take care of yourself.”

“I promise you that I am taking care of myself, Dean.”

“Okay, then, what all have you eaten today and don’t you dare lie to me.”

You think about it for a while before you answer Dean. “I guess that I’ve kind of forgotten to do that today.”

“(Y/N),” Dean tells you as his eyes widen a bit.

“Sorry, but it isn’t exactly a priority to me right now.”

“If you were actually taking care of yourself then it would be,” Dean tells you. “Take a seat. I’m going to go cook you something to eat.”

“Dean…” He ignores your arguing and turns to walk on out of the library anyways. Sighing, you grab the book off of the table once more and open it up.

As you read, your eyes start to lose their focus and it almost looks like the room is spinning. You get the same light-headed feeling that you’d had earlier when you tripped, so you decide to play it safe and sit down in one of the chairs in the library. It isn’t long until the entire room looks like it’s spinning once more before everything goes black.

“You didn’t give me a specific request for anything, but I know you said that you like tomato soup when you don’t feel good, so I hope that’s okay,” Dean tells you as he walks into the library carrying a bowl. Dean frowns when he sees that you’ve fallen asleep in one of the chairs. He knows that you need rest but he also knows that you need to eat while your soup’s hot. “(Y/N),” Dean says softly as he sets the bowl down onto the table in front of you. “(Y/N), sweetheart.”

Dean reaches over to gently push some hair out of your face and he frowns a bit when you don’t move. “(Y/N), you need to eat,” Dean tells you as he pushes at your shoulder a bit. He still doesn’t get a reaction out of you and his heart starts pounding a bit when he realizes that you’re not just asleep.

“Hey!” Dean hollers as he moves you a bit harder than he was. A small gasp escapes you and you slowly open your eyes. Dean lets out a breath of relief when your eyes open. “You scared me there for a minute, sweetheart.”

“I was only asleep,” you mutter as you let your eyes slide shut once more.

“Hey, don’t go to sleep until you’ve eaten a little something for me,” Dean tells you softly as he helps you to sit up a bit. “I don’t want to argue with you, sweetheart, but I gotta tell you that you weren’t just asleep. You passed out on me.”

“No I didn’t,” you mumble.

“Yes you did and now you need to try to stay awake so that you’re able to get some food in you,” Dean tells you. “I promise that I’ll let you go to sleep if you’ll eat a little bit.”

“Fine,” you sigh as you lazily reach over to grab the spoon. You have to admit that the soup feels good going down your throat, and yet the thought of curling up underneath your warm blankets and going to sleep is even more appealing. “There. I ate a little bit and now you have to let me go to bed.”

“Half the bowl,” Dean says.

“Another spoonful,” you argue.

Dean sighs. “If you eat all of it then I’ll carry you to bed and I’ll even lay down with you,” he negotiates.

“Fine, I’ll let you win,” you smile up at him.

“I know how to get my way with you,” Dean smirks as he leans over your chair to press a kiss to your cheek.

“Yeah, you think that you know me soo well,” you tease as you take another bite. When every drop of soup is gone from the bowl, you look over at Dean and hold your arms up at him. Dean chuckles as he walks over and bends down to take you into his arms. You wrap your arms tightly around his neck and you lay your head over onto his shoulder.

“Your room or mine?” Dean asks you softly.

“Doesn’t matter,” you mumble as you completely relax in Dean’s arms.

“Don’t go to sleep on me yet, sweetheart,” Dean chuckles as he carries you into his room. He carefully lays you down onto his bed and you curl up on the side that he usually sleeps on. “Scoot,” Dean laughs as he pushes you over before laying down beside of you. He wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you in tightly to him.

“Thanks for taking care of me,” you whisper into Dean’s chest.

“You don’t have to thank me for that, pretty girl,” Dean tells you softly. “But I do want you to start doing a better job of it yourself. You can’t keep running yourself down like that.”

“I know,” you breathe out. “I’m sorry, Dean.”

“I worry about you.

“I know.”

“I don’t want anything bad to happen to you.”

“I know.”

“You know a lot then,” Dean teases as he tucks your head underneath his chin. You giggle and hide your face in the side of his neck.

“How on earth did I find you?” you ask him.

“Actually, I think that I’m the one who found you,” Dean says.

“Well, one of us is wrong here and it isn’t me,” you tease.

Dean chuckles as he pulls the blankets up over you. “We found each other. That’s all that matters.”

“Agreed,” you tell him as you snuggle down deeper into his arms.

“(Y/N), sweetheart, we honestly do appreciate you helping us out but you have got to promise me that you’ll take a break every once in a while. Get out and have some fun or take a nice long bath. Eat something.”

“I get so focused on helping you and Sam that I forget to take care of myself sometimes.”

“Well, please don’t do that anymore because you honestly scared me today.”

“I’m sorry,” you frown.

“It’s just… Sweetheart, you didn’t ask to be thrown into this life yet here you are and you deserve to take a break and do the things that you love to do.”

“You didn’t ask to be thrown into it either and yet you still don’t take a break.”

“Yeah, but I could have gotten out of it if I wanted to.”

“So could I,” you tell him softly. “If I have to start taking better care of myself and doing the things that I love to do then so do you.”

“Oh, sweetheart, I do that everyday anyways,” Dean tells you.

“Oh, like what?” you ask him.

“Taking care of you,” Dean says softly. Your heart melts a bit and you turn your head up so that you can see his face.

“Seriously?”

“Yeah,” Dean smiles softly. “I mean, someone has to do it because you suck at it.” Dean grunts as you elbow him playfully and you let out a small laugh.

“I’ll do better at taking care of myself,” you tell him. “Although I don’t know why I would want to because you obviously do a much better job at it then me.”

“Ah, she admits it,” Dean laughs as you roll your eyes a bit at him.

“Go to sleep, Winchester.”

“Alright, but I’m getting up tomorrow and I’m going to cook you a big breakfast and you are going to eat so that you don’t scare me like that and pass out on me anymore.”

“Okay, Mom.”

“Brat,” Dean chuckles as he presses his lips gently to your temple.

“I’m your brat,” you giggle. “Dean, thanks for letting me sleep in your bed.”

“Like you’d have it any other way,” he chuckles.

“Your bed’s more comfortable then mine is though.”

“They’re the same thing.”

“Yeah, but you’re here to hold me and that makes it more comfortable.”

“And I couldn’t hold you just as well on your bed?”

“Yeah, but my bed doesn’t smell like you.”

“It should with how often I sleep there.”

“I don’t make the rules.”

“What?” Dean chuckles.

“I don’t know. I’m too tired to make any sense,” you yawn.

“Well, then go to sleep,” Dean chuckles as he kisses your lips. “I’m right here to take care of you if you need me.”

You smile and you let your eyes slide shut, mumbling one more thing before you let the sleep pull you under. “I’ll always need you.”

Tags: @polina-93 @adoptdontshoppets @justanotherwinchester @blue-pink-green @spnbaby-67 @deanwanddamons @defenderrosetyler @mlovesstories @akshi8278 @idksupernatural @hobby27 @emoryhemsworth @flamencodiva @therollingstoners

#spnfluffbingo #spndeanbingo #spn bi-weekly writing challenge #dean x reader #dean x you #dean x y/n #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural #SPN #fanfic #fic request

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hopeshoodie · 3 years

Text

I can’t believe it took me until part 8 to do my favorite boy but

Here are the pros and cons of dating

Noah

Cons

Noah is really non confrontational, so he tends to let issues fester. It’s not that he’s trying to let things build up, it’s just that he doesn’t think they’re important enough to bring up. He won’t start a fight about them when they’ve built up, but if MC is angry about something he’ll mention that there’s a bunch of things he’s let go but not have specifics. It ends up coming out like ‘yeah well what about all the other things?!’ ‘what other things!?’ ‘I don’t remember!!’. He’s not actively keeping track of all her mistakes, he genuinely does forgive and forget, but then when tensions come to a boil he needs to point out that there has been conflict that he just ignored. He’s not trying to guilt or gaslight MC, but sometimes it feels like it. If she thinks especially little of his intentions, it feels like he’s just pulling things out of thin air to be mad instead of focusing on the issue. That’s not what he’s doing- he just doesn’t address little things until they feel like big things. But of course he hasn’t done the introspection to truly understand how doing this is hurtful or articulate that he doesn’t mean it to be.

When he and MC disagree, he lets things go wayyy too easily. This is fine if MC is a really mature, self-reflective person who can see that she’s crossed a line after the fact. But if MC is a little more selfish/immature, like Lottie, this is a huge con because he doesn’t give her accountability that would help her grow. We saw this with Hope- she wasn’t able to recognize how harmful her temper was when she was dating Noah because he never pointed it out, he just rolled over. If there’s a genuine problem- financial, emotional, logistically, he’ll ‘let it go’ until it’s a way bigger problem (and much harder to solve).

Sorry that most of these cons are about how he fights with people, but that’s what we saw in-game lol. I’d love to know more about how Lucas or Rahim fight with their partners. But when you’re arguing, Noah tends to focus on really little details of what you said instead of listening to the whole thing and getting a sense of the bigger picture. So let’s say the issue is ‘Noah, I need you to tell me when you’re borrowing my car because you took it to the gym and then it went from having enough gas to get me to work in the morning to being on empty. This morning I had to stop for gas and that made me late.” The issue there is actually ‘please tell me when you’re using my car”, but he fixates on the gas part and says “well fine I can fill up your tank”. So he focuses on little details that he can fix instead of acknowledging the actual problem.

He internalizes things so fucking hard. Yes he intellectually knows that when MC gives him feedback on things she’s talking about his BEHAVIOR and not him as a person, but he definitely feels like shit about himself if he makes a mistake and MC calls him on it. He’ll definitely beat himself up about things for weeks after it happens, and his internal dialogue in general is pretty toxic.

I can see him being a bit of a workaholic. Not in the same sense that Camilo is in Boat Party, but Noah definitely will go into the library on a day he’s scheduled to be off if he has projects to work on or will stay late because he got engrossed in research. Same thing now that the library’s closed because of COVID- it takes him two times as long to put everyone online and work from home, so he’s spending more time working than ever. He views it through the lens of the ‘greater good’- getting that display set up for the patrons is more important that seeing his wife two hours earlier because many members of the community outnumber one person. Plus he just cares so much about his work that he has a hard time seeing it as an inconvenience to other people.

He loves his family so much. Even when MC and he get married and have kids, he struggles to prioritize them over his siblings and parents. So if his little brother Arlo needs money, Noah won’t hesitate to give him a loan even if he and MC are struggling financially. If his aging mom or dad can’t live alone anymore, Noah will invite them to move in with his family, even if their house isn’t big enough to accommodate more people. I can see this being a huge point of contention, especially in that second scenario where MC would have to take on a caretaker role as well. Noah just wants to help people so bad and has a hard time saying no, so that can sometimes impede his partner.

He’s really used to living on low income, and so he has a lot of frugal habits and concessions that he thinks are normal that someone more middle or upper class might find irritating. These are all coming from my experience and things partners have complained about- but think things like only eating out once a month or refusing to turn the heat on until it’s dangerous or making his own laundry detergent. He grew up doing them out of necessity (and still does, student debt on a public librarian’s budget? I couldn’t do it), so he doesn’t realize how strange or frustrating his habits might be to someone who isn’t used to it. He also has a really hard time justifying spending excessive amounts of money, so if MC has lavish taste there’s going to be some conflict.

He doesn’t like initiating anything. Conversations, activities… you know *smirk emoji*. He will, but the ratio of when Noah suggests something to when MC does is like 1:8

My boy is beautiful, and his clothes look lovely, but he has 7 outfits that he rewears all the time. The closest thing to fashion is him putting a different button up shirt underneath his vest. It’s definitely a joke at work that he wears the same sweater, button up, and quarter length shirt just in different colors. You know that vine where the teacher walks into the room wearing the same shirt in different colors, saying the same ‘hello’ for like a million days. Noah’s coworkers remake that with him, because that’s exactly what he does.

He’s a bit of a homebody, and loves routine. For me, massive plus, I love that. But for someone who wants to party regularly or be spontaneous, I can see constantly changing plans and going out with people being really draining to Noah. He has a small group of close friends, so he’d struggle to remember MC’s friends' names if she has more than five. Don’t get me wrong, Noah will take MC to galleries and dates at least three times a month, but it has to be discussed and scheduled in advance.

Pros

Honestly, what isn’t a pro about him? Noah is a steadfast, thoughtful, and kind person. His politics are about taking care of people, providing them dignity and respect, and building community. He loves his family and is incredibly patient. He’s incredibly smart but not at all classist or condescending about it. I know this is supposed to be about how the islanders affect the person they’re dating, but oh my god he’s such a good person I love him. Let’s just say the pro for this is his positive aura.

He’s really good at group dynamics and listening, so he goes out of his way to make everyone feel heard and valued. If someone says something and no one acknowledges it, he’ll specifically engage with them so they’re not left hanging. If someone’s trying to get a word in but can’t, he’ll get everyone’s attention then say ‘so and so had an idea’. He’s not one to boisterously laugh in group settings, but he always makes eye contact and smiles if you make a joke that flops or say something he agrees with. If people are teasing about something, he picks up if it’s gone too far really easily and will gracefully change the subject/tell them to knock it off.

He’s super conscientious about respecting boundaries and ensuring the people around him are taking care of himself. If MC and him are long distance and texting after 10pm, he’ll be like “I love you, but we’ve both got to sleep. I’ll talk to you tomorrow”. He’ll always check and make sure people have eaten when meeting up with them, and if they haven’t he’ll insist they get food from somewhere. 100% gives you his jacket, brings you water bottles, in general just wants you to take care of yourself.

Above all else, Noah just always ensures the people around him feel safe. The last thing he’d want to do is make people uncomfortable, so safe driving, safe spaces, safe sex are all musts. He’s really good in crisis situations because he can calm people down and encourage them to think critically.

Building off of that, he’s really aware of how much of the housework is being done by who and always tries to ensure he’s doing his part. I bet that was a big thing he ripped on Rahim for- Rahim expects his woman to clean up after him and do the bulk of the domestic work, and Noah knows that’s bullshit. I think Noah likes cleaning, anyways, and will usually take laundry/disinfecting bathrooms/cleaning dishes over cooking or running errands. But the mental load of keeping track of recipes/groceries that need replenishing and keeping up with kids needs, he’s aware of the imbalance and does his part. Obvious plus, because it sounds fucking exhausting to date a man. He fucking hates vaccuming though, and will splurge on a roomba.

He has a dry sense of humor that’s very based in puns and hyperbole. Sometimes it’s hard to know when he’s joking or not, but he never makes you feel bad for missing a joke or dwells on something for too long. He absolutely subscribes to the Mcelroys’ No Bummers rule, there are some things you don’t joke about and he’s happy to shut down inappropriate comments or ‘jokes’. He definitely prefers physical gaffs and dumb ways of saying things, so his favorite comedians are John Mulaney and Chris Fleming. While humor isn’t an important part of how he relates to other people, Noah enjoys being around funny people and won’t shut down their energy like Rahim, Marisol, or Hope.

This is just me projecting again but Noah is generoussss. Even though he doesn’t make a lot of money at the library, he still has a ‘mutual aid’ budget each month (and goes over it often). He’s the first one to give money to panhandlers, donate to gofundmes, and give friends/family personal loans. That definitely gets him into sticky situations sometimes, because he has a hard time saying no and can get taken advantage of, but ultimately I think it’s a pro because he’ll never forget where he came from and always prioritize helping other people.

He has a really pretty, deep singing voice and this is a pro to me because fuck I meltttttt.

The shit he says to his partner or spouse? THE most romantic thing in the world. You think Mr. “you’re made of stardust” doesn’t shower his lover with the most meaningful lines at random times? You think he’s not quoting sappho and jane austen when he’s at a loss for words? You think he’s NOT going to turn over in bed on a lazy Saturday and say ‘this is the most perfect my life will ever be’? It’s not even prompted either, yes he’ll compliment Bobby or MC when they get all dressed up for date night, but more often he’ll profess his adoration in the middle of dinner, then take another forkful of food.

Fantastic with kids, and this is a huge pro because people who can work with kids and be patient/positive with them make me so fuckim soft. But if/when (hopefully when because if MC didn’t want kids I don’t think it’d last) they had kids, Noah is happy to be on bottle duty, wake up early to the baby, and generally be a really involved parent. He’ll take a big chunk of paternity leave, and generally be there as much as humanly possible. Even when they have multiple little tyrants running around, he always makes time to be alone with MC and make sure she’s not taking on too much.

He’s basically a lesbian, which is definitely a reason I love him so much. Hear me out- loves milfs, loves 80s music, communicates affection through meaningful glances and playing with hair but will die before explicitly saying any of it, crushes on his best friend for the longest time but never makes the first move, puts way too much emotional meaning and personal metaphors into objects and then presents them as gifts, is into fandoms and actively collects pop figures, is attracted to assertive/powerful women, wears beige skinny jeans, wears VESTS….. That’s a lesbian. He’s a bisexual man, but he’s also an honorary lesbian.

A really good confidant. Noah’s an amazing listener and never judges people harshly- his life philosophy is as long as you’re not hurting anymore or yourself, everything else is details. So you can definitely tell him secrets and confess regrets to him and he’ll listen with those soft eyes and gentle nods. Talking to him about mistakes always feels like unburdening yourself. And he’d never tell your secret to anyone. Doesn’t matter if you cheat on him, lie to him, or die, he’s never going to tell anyone your secrets.

#litg #litg noah #pros and cons

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highpope · 3 years

Text

Silver Keys - Ch. Four

JJ Maybank x OC x Topper Thorton // Soulmate AU

warnings: mentions of abuse, swearing

notes: HI! I rewrote the ending of this ch. instead of finishing my Industry paper. I really hope you liked it :) Let me know what you think!!

Tags: @allycat449-blog @ifilwtmfc @sarcasticsagittarius1998 @auds24 @messagesinthesky @collecting-stories @cognacdelights @sunsetholland @uwubonebabie

(if you wanna be tagged or removed message me)

JJ never liked his birthday. It was just the weight of the day and the pressure to make it memorable. It was never something he could give himself. He didn’t like to make a big deal about it either. It was easier that way. It’s not that he didn’t appreciate what his friends did for him, he really did.

JJ remembers for his 16th birthday his dad was passed out drunk the whole morning and Pope came and picked him up and they went surfing all day. Later they stayed at John B’s, sang happy birthday, and had brownies, his favorite. He had found out later that Kie and June had baked the brownies themselves. It was the best birthday he had ever had.

JJ’s birthdays were always a fight with his dad. Like a sad yearly tradition that left him more bruised than the day before. The day reminded his dad of his mom and how they weren’t in love anymore and that she left him. That’s JJ, the constant reminder of the shitty world they live in.

His mom left them both. JJ always clarified that. If his dad got to be bitter and drink himself to death, then JJ got to be upset about it. Even just a little.

He hadn’t lived with his dad in a few years, only stopping in once and a while to make sure he wasn’t dead, had paid the bills, and kept food in the fridge. He didn’t deserve it, but not doing it made JJ feel guilty.

JJ had made it clear to his friends that he didn’t want to draw attention to his birthday this year.

“We’re not doing any party shit, okay? I just wanna go surf.” He had said Sunday. No one argued, but Kie did insist they at least go to The Wreck Friday for dessert. They all agreed and would stay over at the chateau to get to the beach the following morning. That was before June stood him up for surfing. And before she said she’d go out with Topper Friday night. Pope seemed to be on her side which was just the icing on his sad, sad birthday cake. He said as such to him when they went surfing Tuesday morning.

“JJ, I am not on anyone’s side. There are no sides.”

“But you knew!” JJ responded, his thoughts were circling in his head.

Pope sighed, “I knew that he sort of asked her out back at that party, but I didn’t know he came into the shop yesterday. and,” he gave JJ a pointed look, “I didn’t know you’d be this upset about June going on a date.”

“I’m not. She can go out with whoever she wants to go out with,” he said matter of factly.

Pope just raised his eyebrows and went back to unloading his car. They hadn’t made it down to the beach yet, JJ too distracted to keep walking.

“It’s just Topper man,” JJ fake shivered.

“Listen, no one’s thrilled about it being him, but we at least owe it to June to act, I don't know, neutral about the situation.”

“Okay, okay,” JJ brushed off his comment.

JJ wanted to say that no one knew if Topper was really June’s soulmate or not, but he knew that he would tell JJ not to be rude and accuse him of being in love with his best friend. Which was not the case here.

“No, I’m serious JJ. Don’t make her feel bad about going out with him. We owe it to her. That and about a million other things.”

JJ let that thought roll over in his mind. He was right. June was the most caring person in the world, she had put them all first every single time.

“Yeah, I know.” He paused, “And what if it’s not him?”

Pope was already walking down the beach, annoyed at how long JJ was taking, “then we fuck his shit up.”

JJ laughed at his abruptness because that’s exactly what he would have said.

The both of them spent the next few hours in the water, but JJ couldn’t stop thinking about what Pope said. And that’s why, the next day, JJ got out of bed before noon and drove to the bait shop around the time June would be getting off. He knew she wouldn’t have driven there, it was too nice of a day. So, he sat in the parking lot and waited.

When she was finally leaving, she used the side door. JJ had to run to catch up with her, startling both himself and June.

“Hey!” he called out.

She froze before turning around, “what’re you doing?” “Can I drive you home?”

She thought about it before agreeing.

“I’m sorry,” JJ began when they had gotten out of the parking lot. She was quiet and very visibly tired.

“The JJ Maybank… apologizing?” So, she was still mad.

“Okay, I deserve that. Go ahead, give it to me.”

June stayed silent in the passenger seat, her head leaning against the window, “No, I just shouldn’t have said anything.”

He gripped the steering wheel tighter, “No, it was shitty of me to be all passive-aggressive about it. It really doesn’t matter who you go out with or who you don’t or if it’s Topper or whoever.”

He looked over at her, bouncing her leg up and down and still leaning against the door.

“Are we okay?” he asks

“Always.” It took a moment for her to look over at him but she smiled. JJ cleared his throat and shifted his eyes back to the road. He already felt better, like he could breathe properly again knowing she wasn’t pissed off at him.

“What’re you humming?” He asks.

Her eyes were closed when she answered, “I don’t know. It’s been stuck in my head all day.” and then she started humming again, louder for JJ to hear.

“Oh, I know that song!” He starts to sing along, filling in the words.

June laughs, “I’ve literally never heard that song. That’s wild.”

“It’s your soulmate?” JJ poses tentatively.

“Yeah, yeah I guess so.” She breathed.

When they parked he asked, “Do you really think it’s Topper?”

June shot him a look instantly. He held his hands up in surrender, “I’m not arguing. Just… curious.”

She sighed a little before speaking, “I don’t know. But I’d hate myself if I didn’t try to find out, ya know?”

JJ just nodded his head, she looked as if she wanted to say more, but stopped herself. June climbed out of the truck and yelled behind her, “See you Friday?”

“Of course,” he yelled back. He watched her close the door behind her before driving off.

JJ didn’t go straight back to the chateau. Instead, he kept driving, the radio at the lowest possible setting, all the windows down until he ended up at his dad’s house. He parked a few houses down and just watched. He wasn’t sure if he was trying to build up the courage to go in, or if he wanted to see his dad come out, or what. He stayed for a while, not thinking about anything specific, just breathing in the cool air and watching.

Sometimes JJ wanted so badly to hate his dad. He desperately tries to erase all traces of familiarity, every last thing about himself that could possibly lead someone to Luke Maybank. He hated him. He hated him for giving JJ his eyes and his rough demeanor. He used to wish to be softer, kinder, more gentle. Someone like Pope or June. Instead, he was steel, dented, and hard to fix.

Sometimes JJ wanted so badly to hate his dad and everything he had done to him, that he couldn’t.

On Friday morning, well Friday afternoon, JJ walked into the living room of an empty chateau. Half asleep, he stumbled into the kitchen and pulled out an empty Eggo waffle box from the freezer. Cool. He then dragged his feet over to the cabinets and pulled out what was left of the coffee grounds and began making a pot. He thought about calling Pope and making him bring some breakfast from his dad’s, but then he saw the note on the counter.

went to get groceries. can’t survive on stale Oreos anymore

John b.

Well, that answered that JJ thought as his stomach growled. Stale Oreos didn’t sound too bad now.

About a half-hour later, he heard someone on the front porch and thought it must be JB back from the store, hands filled with groceries.

He flung open the door, “God, I’m starving. What-” He stopped in his tracks. Standing in front of him was his dad. It felt wrong, having him here. In this place, in this safe space that he and his friends had created. Such evil and anger weren’t welcome.

“What’re you doing here?” JJ said when his mouth finally caught up with his brain.

“Is that any way to greet your father?” Luke spoke as if he was reading from a teleprompter. His words were slow and meaningless, slurred together without a thought behind them.

JJ stayed silent, disgust rising in him.

“Heard you were in the neighborhood.”

“No,” JJ said through gritted teeth, “must’ve been someone else.”

“Don’t lie to me, boy. I’m the one who taught you how.” He was inching closer. He reeked of alcohol and sweat.

“You didn’t teach me anything.” He spits.

“Listen to me you little shit” Luke started, laughing as he lunged forward. It was a dark, empty sound. It made JJ’s ears ring. He closed his eyes for a second and the laugh echoed. It encompassed him, became him. JJ saw every fight, every empty beer bottle, every stack of cash blown away, every sleepless night and it overtook him. He was the product of hatred. He was steel, so scratched and dented and kicked in that not even the best people could fix him.

When JJ opened his eyes, his body hurt and his ears were ringing and he thought his lip was bleeding. He was laying on the porch, propped up against the doorframe. Once he was sure his dad had left, he started to get up. Every thought in his head was replaced by the throbbing of his left side. The more he walked, the more he breathed, the quicker it morphed into anger, “Fuck,” he yelled, “He came here! Here. Here. He was here.” He repeated it over and over until the words had no meaning. He left through the backdoor and ended up at the overlook. His mind was racing, replaying the moments from earlier and every moment prior. JJ didn’t want to cry, didn’t want to be the little kid with the shitfaced dad who forgot his birthday. But he was, so he did. JJ cried until his eyes were puffy and his head hurt and the sun had started setting.

Now, JJ was sitting in John B’s spare room. He crawled in through the window, not wanting to run into anyone if they were home. They were probably trying to call, but his phone was in the living room from this morning. He didn’t want to have to tell them, watch as their eyes scanned over him to assess the damage. He looked around the room that had somehow become his own. There were clothes piled on the floor, a few swimsuits left from the others hanging on the door, and empty beer cans littering the ground. The bed frame was broken, making the whole mattress tilt slightly towards the left.

JJ didn’t know what it was like to call someplace home. He was always hesitant, afraid that someone would just pull the rug out from under his feet and he’d be left falling. He never called his childhood bedroom home, it was a house. With four walls and a shitload of bad memories. He wanted to scream, why did he still let his dad have this control over him? He threw a shoe across the room and stormed out before stopping short in the hallway. He could hear a voice in the living room.

“Kie, it’s fine. I’m not going to be late, I just stopped at the chateau to get changed.”

She paused.

“Because it’s faster than driving all the way back to my house.”

“Okay, see you in five.”

Shit, his birthday dinner. JJ tried to retreat to the room, but he wasn’t fast enough. June had already seen him, “J! I didn’t know anyone was here. Thought you’d be with everyone else by now.”

She was holding onto the door frame with one hand and attempting to pry off her heels with the other. She was wearing a sparkling purple dress that he didn’t recognize and her hair was lazily pulled up on top of her head. A wave of nerves flooded his body, but he suppressed the feeling almost as fast as it happened.

He cleared his throat, “Uh, yeah. I was just leaving. Actually.” He grabbed his keys off the counter. He wasn’t sure if she could see his bruised knuckles from there, but he didn’t want to give her the chance.

“I can drive,” she offered softly, “if you’ll wait five minutes so I can get out of this shit,”

He nodded his head, and slowly sat at the counter, “spare’s open if you want.”

She nodded, heading into the room. JJ took this opportunity to bandage his side in the bathroom. It was already bruised, so he put some aloe vera on before taping it up and changing into a different shirt. Pope had mentioned once that aloe vera can help inflammation. Ever since there’s been a bottle in the first aid kit. He liked the smell, reminded him of summer.

He cleaned the cuts on his hand and his lip like he should have when he first got here. The blood was dry on his face and cleaning it only made the cut reopen. Fuck it, he thought and met June back in the living room.

She had changed into jeans.

“Hey, is this mine?” she asked, pointing to the shirt she was wearing. It was a gray high school track t-shirt, “I forgot to pack one and saw this in the dresser.”

“Must be, I didn’t do track, hell no.”

She laughs before linking her arm through his and leading them to the car. JJ couldn’t help but wonder how her date went. She was in good spirits, better than usual he noticed. He wanted to ask, but he was certain he didn’t want to know the answer. He wanted to tell her about his dad, too, surprisingly. But he knew the face that she’d make as soon as the words were out of his mouth. And that hurt JJ more than the possible broken rib.

When they got to The Wreck, Mr. Carerra waved them to the back where the rest of their friends sat. It felt the most normal JJ had felt in a long time like time resets itself when the five of them sit around a wooden table eating ice cream.

He tried to focus on the conversation, on the light music being played through the restaurant, on the crickets outside, anything to ground him to this moment.

“JJ?” John B asked from across the table.

“Hey,” June said a little louder, hitting his stomach to get his attention. He winced slightly before responding, “huh? Sorry. I was, uh, trying to figure out what song was playing.”

Pope and Kie share a look before diverting their attention back to John B who repeated his question, “Are you excited to figure out your soulmate?”

“Oh,” JJ laughed, “yeah. Thrilled.”

“Come on, it’s kind of exciting. You’ve gotta admit that.”

“Yeah, I guess.” His eyes scan the table, stopping at each of his friends. Truthfully, he doesn’t want anything to change. He’d trade a soulmate for his friends any day. It’s the only thing that makes sense.

When Kie's dad finally kicks them out of the restaurant, he makes her stay behind to clean the tables. They all offer to help, but to JJ’s excitement she assures them to go ahead and that she'd meet back up with them in a little. Pope and John B hop in the van and start driving away before the rest of them are even in the parking lot, “See you in ten,” Pope yells from the passenger side.

Once June and JJ are in the car, she makes JJ close her eyes.

“Why?” he questioned.

“Just do it.”

“June, I really-”

“Please?”

He huffed and pulled down his hat to cover his eyes. He could hear her moving around next to him.

“Okay, open.” JJ did as he was told and was presented with a soft gift-wrapped present.

“Happy birthday,” she said sweetly. She was facing him, turned sideways in the driver's seat with her head resting on the chair.

“It’s not my birthday yet.” He said, meeting her eyes.

“I wanted to be first.”

“I told you not to get me anything.”

“I don’t care,” she chuckled.

“June,”

“Take the present, you jerk.”

He pulled back the paper revealing a keychain laid on top of some type of clothes. He held it up to get a better look and realized it was a surfboard with “OBX” written on it like from a tacky souvenir shop, “cute.”

She smiled, “now look at that.”

He lifted the crewneck in his lap, it was a light blue color and had stitching near the colors.

Before he could say anything June interrupted, “Found it in that thrift shop by my house the other day.”

“I love it.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes, are you kidding?” He laughed a little, “thank you.”

She smiled again, satisfied with herself before turning forward and starting the car.

JJ messed with the rings on his fingers, examining the bruises that had started to form/

“Hey,” he said.

“Hey,”

“Have you… heard anything else? Like your soulmate, I guess.”

He felt her hesitate beside him, “Ya know what nevermind. It’s okay, you’re pretty sure it’s Topper and you really don’t have to tell me anything. It is totally okay. I was just-”

“Nervous?”

He sighs, “yeah.”

She clears her throat, “it’s not scary. At all. It is weird though, weird as hell. I mean it’s almost like if you weren't paying attention, you’d never even notice.”

She had the same far-off look John B got when he talked about this shit. It made him uneasy.

“But to answer your question, I’ve only heard it a few times.”

He nodded his head and mulled over what she said.

When he opened the door to the chateau, he was met by everyone standing in the living room, “happy birthday!”

“You distracted me!” He yelled at June shutting the door.

“It was my job!” she yelled back, “I had to give them time.”

He was laughing at everyone’s stupid party hats and the tray of brownies with sloppy “happy bday J” iced on top with a single lit candle. He made a show of blowing it out and pulled the others into a hug. He pretended to be annoyed at the effort, but deep down he had been so excited.

Later, he tried to etch it into his mind. He wanted to remember tonight as the best birthday he had ever had. He smiled as he fell asleep on a mattress that didn’t tilt to the left anymore in a room that he had made his home.

#obx #obx fic #topper obx #topper outer banks #jj maybank #jj obx #jj outer banks #jj x oc #outer banks #outer banks fic #obx soulmate #outerbanks #outer banks soulmate #jj maybank x oc #original character #highpope-fics #highpope #silver keys #silver keys masterlist

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susiequaz12 · 4 years

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Carrot Top- 14: Afraid

Woooh! Another update! I didn’t expect this one to come so soon, but it did, so here yah go. Time to also meet some new people!

CW: Medical whump, restraints, blood/knives/torture mention, non con (nonsexual) touch mention, possessive/creepy whumper.

Tag list: @imagination1reality0, @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi, @thehopelessopus

Masterlist here.

The small girl burst into the Doctor’s office, dragging a boy behind her by the hand.

“Dr. Tusik!” She called. “Tusik!” She threw out her arms, releasing the boy’s hand as the Doctor turned around from his stack of papers he was investigation. “It’s been far too long! We definitely have to do something.”

The doctor set a paper down and looked at the girl, speaking in a slow voice, with an accent long faded of his home country. “Slow down vnuchka, is this about what I think it is?”

“Andrew!” She cried. The doctor nodded. The boy standing in the doorway dropped into a seat behind them in the small office.

“This is not like him.” She continued. “I mean, sometimes he’ll hold a grudge- and, and we’ve all argued before, but usually you just, give him a day, you give him some space and he’ll be fine. Dr.- It’s been five days.”

“Slow down now child, just breathe. We’ve sure to find an explanation.” The old man pushed his glasses up his nose. He adjusted the papers on his desk and took the stethoscope off from around his neck, placing it on the messy pile of paperwork and writings.

“An explanation for why Andrew’s been mia for almost a week?” The boy asked. “I’m sorry Dr Tusik, but what kind of good explanation could there possibly be for something like that?”

The girl spoke again. “Justin’s right, where could he have gone? He lives with us for goodness sake, he hasn’t answered his phone, his mom’s is too far away and he doesn’t have a car, there’s- I don’t know where else he could be! There isn’t anywhere else he could be!”

“Ali, calm down, pozhaluysta, please.” Dr. Tusik stated gently. “It’d do good to remember you’re not the only ones with concerns for the boy.”

At the shouting and the noise, a figure had stood in the doorway behind the two. They turned around to find a young girl. Younger than Ali by a few years, but much taller and ganglier. She had beautiful curly auburn hair that tangled itself up no matter what you did, and freckles across her nose. You couldn’t mistake who she was related to- it was obvious.

Andrew’s sister.

Her eyes were red and she held a crumpled tissue in her fist. She sniffled and wiped her eyes, and then smiled.

“Hey guys.” She stepped into the small office.

“Mickie- hey.” Ali stated. She approached the younger girl and wrapped her arms around her in a hug.

They all sat down in chairs around the small office while Tusik explained.

“Mickie came in a few minutes earlier with the same concerns. She’s visited a few times now, and we’ve previously discussed some things. Possible explanations, and solutions.”

“I just can’t get it out of my head that he’s really mad at us.” Justin stated. “I mean, I feel like I kinda pushed him over the edge a little that night- it’s understandable if he’d want to ignore us.”

Mickie shook her head. “Andrew doesn’t ignore people. He’s too kind for that.” She sniffled. “We’ve literally gotten into some of the worst arguments you could imagine growing up. I mean, he shoved me in a suitcase once that ‘accidentally’ fell down the stairs, all because I’d broken his Star Wars Lego set. We didn’t talk for the rest of the day but after that we were fine.” She turned to Justin. “He doesn’t hold grudges. Andrew’s not mad at you, so don’t blame yourselves.”

Ali kept a hand on the girl’s shoulder. She changed the subject. “So have you heard from him? When was the last time you guys talked?”

She shrugged her shoulders and got quiet, wringing the bottom of her t-shirt in between her hands. “Just that night. We were texting and I could tell he was getting frustrated with you guys-”

Justin interrupted. “I knew it, I knew he was mad at me, I should have given him that ride home, I shouldn’t have-”

“Justin shut up.” Mickie stated. Justin stopped abruptly. She brought a hand to her face. “Sorry, I- he wasn’t mad at you okay? Just frustrated- trust me.” She sighed and fiddled with the crumpled tissue in her hands. “He talked to me more than anyone. Sure, he lives with you guys, but put yourselves in his shoes. You have each other to hang out with. When you’re spending all your time making him feel like the third wheel it’s understandable for him to get a little frustrated. He wasn’t mad, I promise. Just tired. He was saying how he needed to clear his head, just walk, spend a bit by himself.”

Dr. Tusik began to speak, breaking the silence that had begun to fill the room. “Mickie and I have previously discussed where he could be- potential theories and such, as well as our ideas as to how to solve the problem.”

“Oh?” Ali asked.

“Andrew and I talked almost constantly. I mean he’s not just my big brother, but he- he’s my best friend. He’s not- he’s not ignoring anyone, he couldn’t be, so- he... he-” Mickie’s voice began to break. Ali rubbed her back as she began to cry.

Tusik finished for her. “He was taken.”

Mickie regained her composure quickly, dabbing at her eyes with the torn up tissue. “There’s no other explanation. Why else would he ignore us all for so long? He probably- he probably feels just as bad about it as we do.”

“But who? Who possibly could have taken him?” As Justin asked the question, silence filled the room once more. They all knew the answer immediately after the idea had been posed. The man had been looking for them for a while now, ever since they all discovered their abilities.

No one wanted to admit that that was where he was right now.

- - -

Andrew twisted his own fingers in his hands as he sat. He twisted the bottom hem of his shirt up, wrinkling it between his fingers.

His ears popped as a yawn got trapped in his mouth. It was late at night, after dinner. He knew because he hadn’t been fed- his stomach growled ever so slightly. He had been left alone all day, and had fallen asleep only to be awoken roughly to be dragged down to another one of these rooms.

There were often times he’d be dragged down here, and spend all day in an endless misery.

Those days were the worst.

They were the days he was taken in to be tested- to be poked, prodded, examined. Rough hands grabbing at him, stabbing him with things, treating him like a lab rat incapable of cohesive thought.

One day he was forced to run on a treadmill until he passed out or threw up. They were testing his heart rate apparently.

Another day they cut into his muscles. Poking at them to “see how they worked”. Other times they just sat and stared.

So when Splice said that the doctors had a new drug they wanted to try, anything could have been possible.

He was placed in the medical chair as Splice sat on a stool next to him, waiting for the “Doctors” to come in. They were called Doctors, but for all intents and purposes, they were just people curious about how peculiari worked- hired to treat them like lab rats using whatever unconventional methods they saw fit.

When they came into the room a wave of cold chills instantly ran over Andrew’s body. There were three people- all wearing medical masks in white coats and gloves. They didn’t acknowledge Andrew as they walked in and set a massive amount of supplies down on the counters.

Splice stood up from his stool while one of the doctors spoke to him in regards as to what could be expected from this procedure. Andrew tried to pay attention, but it was difficult when the other two doctors were surrounding him where he sat.

His wrists were grabbed and strapped down to the armrests of the chair- his ankles restrained in a similar fashion. He felt the mechanical humming of the chair through his muscles as it was lowered until Anrew was laying nearly flat on his back. Then a thick strap came to wrap across his forehead as well, keeping his head in place.

He tried to remember to breathe as he began lose track of what was happening around him.

He felt something tight around his bicep, cutting off circulation, and then something cold and wet wiped across the crook of his arm. This was followed by the sharp sting of a needle before an iv was slid into his vein.

The cuts on his other arm were quickly cleaned and bandaged without a second glance.

He flinched, as cold gloved hands reached under his shirt, placing several small patches onto his chest. They connected to wires that stuck out of his shirt and tangled around him, leading to machines that surrounded the chair he was strapped to.

The third doctor quickly finished explaining things to Splice, and the man sat back on the stool, content with whatever was about to happen to the boy in front of him.

A cart was rolled over with a massive amount of different knives, tools, vials, and bottles. Andrew shivered- thankful at least for the small protection of his shirt.

The actual administration of the drug went quickly. It was slid into the iv and Splice and the doctors sat with clipboards, simply waiting.

At first Andrew didn’t feel anything.

And then all of a sudden everything was closing in on him. The world started spinning around his head- he felt cold chills up and down his spine and sweat started dripping down his face. His eyes couldn’t focus on any specific thing as shapes distorted, growing larger and smaller, spinning around and flying through the air. Any slight movement around the room seemed to fly at his head, causing him to flinch and recoil back at the foreign objects.

He thought he heard voices but they were muffled. Just sounds that echoed in his ears and throughout his brain. Undecipherable, but loud and invasive.

And then out of nowhere, his heart seemed to betray him.

Without a second warning, his heart sped up, pumping as fast as it could. He heard harsh, shrill beepings around him as it felt like his heart would explode out of his chest. His breathing got heavier and he felt a weight on his chest. Like all 350 pounds were suddenly on top of him again and he couldn’t breathe.

And then he had a singular, prominent thought. It spoke so loudly, and so clearly in his mind.

I’m going to die.

The fear of that thought struck into him and he suddenly had the image of Splice coming towards him, knife in one hand, whip in the other. Then the man was on top of him, and his hands marked ownership- gripping at the collar, grabbing at his hair and face. He saw the whip crashing down over his body, the knife tearing through his skin. His limbs began to feel warm and sticky as he felt his blood pooling over his sides, washing down him in rivers, splashing onto his face as Splice began to beat him senseless.

And Andrew screamed.

Though he was muzzled, you could still hear his terrified cries as he truly believed that his tormentor was carving him open and beating him to death at that moment.

Though at that moment- Splice was still sitting on the stool next to the Doctors, watching Andrew thrash about on the bed. He smirked as the screams tore at Andrew’s throat, coming up empty behind the muzzle surrounding his face.

“That’s genius.” The man stated. “You said it mimics fear?”

The doctor closest to Splice nodded. “The drug triggers the body’s natural responses to fear, making them actually think they’re in danger. We’re hoping with some alterations it will cause more extreme hallucinations and paranoia. Of course this is just a test run.”

“It’s brilliant.” Splice stated.

Andrew’s eyes were clenched shut tightly as tears and sweat poured down his blood-stained face. His body shook, knuckles white as he mumbled incoherently through the muzzle.

He suddenly arched back as if in recoil from pain, his chest heaving in the air, legs scrambling to try and curl into himself.

And he screamed once more.

It was harsh, and loud, and guttural, and brutal. He choked on his own spit before bursting back into a series of sobs. The whole time his body continued to shake and thrash about, eyes occasionally shooting open, only to be clenched tightly once more.

They waited maybe an hour or two to try and see the full effects of the drug from beginning to end. Andrew didn’t know how long it had been, and Splice didn’t care to know himself. The boy had periods where he would flare up with terror, the shock and phantom pains taking over his face and body. And then for long stretches of time he would lie there, quietly sobbing to himself as tears streamed from his eyes.

Sweat dripped from his forehead and chills wracked his body as his temperature spiked. His wrists and ankles were raw and red from where he’d struggled against the restraints.

His reactions were getting slower as the drug began to wear off.

They watched the boy suffer for a few more minutes before one of the doctors inserted new fluids into his iv. The fluids ran through and within a couple more minutes the drug had been completely flushed out of his system.

Andrew lay in a broken mess where he was restrained in the chair. The doctors pulled off his restraints, and Splice chuckled as the boy flinched at every hand that came near his face, and every jostled movement of his body.

After a couple more minutes, the iv was removed, the machines turned off, and Andrew was being pulled to his feet. Splice stood in front of him, hands bracing his shoulders to keep the boy from toppling over.

Andrew fell forward, his head lolling into the man’s chest. Splice rested a hand on the back of his head, gently carding through the pale locks of hair.

“I want full updates on the progress of this drug. I expect an updated version within the week.” Splice stated. He tilted the boy’s head up by the chin to look him in the eyes. They looked blurry and unfocused.

“How nice it will be to be able to hurt you without getting my hands dirty.”

He let Andrew’s head fall back to his chest.

Splice began to guide the boy towards the door when a guard burst into the room. The man look disheveled, clearly in pain, and a little confused.

“Sir!” He cried.

“What is it- what’s happened?” Splice asked.

“There’s been a break in. We have intruders in the building.”

A look of shock washed over Splice’s face, followed by a small smile. The man gripped Andrew by the shoulders and looked down at the boy. “Well, let’s go meet our guests, shall we?”

#whump #whump writing #oc #original work #original writing #carrot top #medical whump #blood #knives #torture #possessive whumper #i promise carrot boi will get some comfort eventually #emphasis on the eventually #give it like 10 more chapters idk #bonus points to whoever can tell me where Dr. Tusik is from #he's my favorite old man

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starlightswitch · 3 years

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Mechanic on Call

(for Writer’s Month prompt 19, movie)

Sometimes she really wondered if her life was a movie.

Maybe not a movie. Maybe a sitcom. Ridiculous situations, always with a sense of irony.

She could see the cut from her getting off the phone with her mom when she got to work and was about to turn off the car, her mom telling her “Don’t forget your keys!” and her arguing, “Mom! It was one time when I was on my permit!” to now, staring in the window of her car at the keys on the passenger seat. And the phone in the cupholder.

It wasn’t the first time she’d left the phone in the cupholder. She’d had to turn back for it before, even had to go get it at lunch because she discovered too late it was missing. It was not a problem if she had her keys.

And without the phone she couldn’t call the insurance company for lockout assistance. She could maybe have called from work if she’d thought of it earlier, but work had been so busy she didn’t have time to think of anything except work. And would they help her if she didn’t have her policy number? She didn’t have that now either because it was on her insurance card, in her locked car.

She pressed her hands against the window to block the light and stared, nose almost to the glass. It was ridiculous how close they were. If she had a snarky friend in this imaginary movie, the friend might actually be saying “So close but so far.”

“Are you locked out?”

Heather spun around. A woman was walking toward her across the parking lot. Older than her, but closer to her age than her mom’s. In her skirt with rows of chevrons, cream-colored shirt, and black sweater, she looked much more professional than Heather in her flowered sundress. Also, the keys to her car were in her hand.

If Heather said no, she would be obviously lying, and she would look even more silly than she already felt. “Yes.”

The woman gave her a sympathetic smile and crossed the parking lot diagonally to come over to her. “Did you call someone?”

Trying not to visibly cringe, Heather told her, “My phone is in the car too.”

“Oh no.” The woman pulled her phone out of her purse. “Use mine. I can wait with you if you want.”

Heather was going to say her insurance card was in the car, but once she thought about it she realized the woman might not assume she’d call them. Before she moved she would have called someone at home– her parents– and they would have brought her spare key. If she had roommates, or a boyfriend, she could have called them to bring her spare key. “I don’t really have anyone to call. I just moved here and–” She stopped herself from saying she lived alone. You weren’t supposed to say that. Of course saying she didn’t really know anyone was probably just as bad.”

“I’ll call my brother.” The woman was already pulling it up on her phone. “He’s a mechanic.”

Heather would never have guessed.

“If he has to charge something for business purposes I’ll pay it but he might do it pro bono.” The woman just had time to say, “I’m Melissa, by the way,” before the phone connected. “Hey, Nick, can you do an emergency call? Keys locked in the car. No, if they were mine I’d make you take me to get my spare. You would not. Haha.” There was a longer pause after that, and then, “Okay, that works. Is he going to charge me? Ha. Bye.” She hung up the phone. “He’s got the next appointment so he’s sending Alan.”

“Is he charging…” Heather was torn between offering to pay because it seemed fair and not offering to pay because after all she wouldn’t offer upfront to pay for someone if she couldn’t afford it.

“Family discount,” said Melissa, her voice putting quotes on the words. “I owe the shop three dozen double chocolate muffins.”

“Do that many people work there?”

“No.”

They both giggled.

Alan showed up in a company truck, and to Heather’s surprise he was her age or younger, with short blonde hair just long enough to try to curl. He gave her a smile that seemed to be more than a customer service smile when he got out of the truck, and when he had the car unlocked and told her “You should be all set,” he seemed about to say something else, but then he just nodded and said, “See you around,” to Melissa and hopped back in the truck.

“Apparently I’ll see you tomorrow,” said Melissa.

“Are you bringing us snacks?”

“Nick didn’t tell you I was paying the price for your services?”

Alan gave a tiny version of a triumphant fist pump, turned on the truck, and drove off.

“So let me know if you need anything,” Melissa said, pulling Heather’s attention back to her. She handed her her phone with a New Contact screen open. “If you give me your number I’ll text you mine and you can ask if you need, like, advice on the best pizza place or where the good happy hours are. Or Alan’s number.”

Heather opened her mouth and then shut it.

“I saw you were looking.”

“Wouldn’t he have asked for my number if he was interested?”

“I think he was interested, and he would not have asked for your number because at that shop they do not hit on customers, enforced. And Alan specifically might not have the confidence. He’s a pushover for the slightest hint of a sob story. Obviously they’re willing to help people out–” She waved at Heather’s car. “–but they can’t be comping engine work because they had to keep the car an extra day, and Alan would.”

Heather made a ‘that’s cute’ sound without meaning to.

Melissa gave her a mischievous smile. “You could come to the shop tomorrow to get some muffins.”

“I think your brother wouldn’t like that idea.”

“Not out of theirs. I’d bring you some out of the batch for me and my roommates.” With a smile and a “See you around,” that was a clear imitation of Alan, Melissa pulled her keys back out and left.

Heather sighed and shook her head as she got into her car. When she picked up her phone, there was the text from Melissa with her number. Only one number. She wasn’t sure if she was relieved or disappointed that Melissa hadn’t included Alan’s. She had included a link to the auto shop.

Heather wasn’t planning on going. Showing up at an auto shop just to get muffins from someone's sister and try to talk to a cute guy would be very awkward.

Unless her life really was a movie. Then it would just be the next scene in her love story.

#my writing #WritersMonth2021 #catching up after a quick trip out of state

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goofylittlebear · 4 years

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Arranged Perfidy

Summary:

Since they were born, four princes had been engaged, Virgil to Roman, and Remus to Logan. They had hardly ever met, and they were in no way excited about it. Nonetheless, they have to play the part and get married. It would be a lot simpler for them if Virgil weren’t in love with Remus, and Logan weren’t in love with Roman. And if the feelings had not been returned. And it sure would be easier if they could admit it.

Warnings: Technically there’s Prinxiety and intrulogical but it’s a Dukexiety and Logince fic.

Chapter 1: Mixed Feelings

Anybody could tell you that when there’s a royal wedding, that’s going to be what everybody focuses on, all they talk about, and all they care about.

Now though, three kingdoms are involved in two weddings where the brothers Roman and Remus of the Rupparian Kingdom are affianced to crowned princes Virgil, from the Icarid nation, and Logan from the Crothia Empire.

None of them were excited about this.

Roman always thought he’d fall in love with somebody through adventure and risks taken. Not be forced into a marriage with somebody he doesn’t know.

Remus thought that if he were to ever get married, it would be with somebody almost as batshit crazy as him... and it probably would be an elopement at that.

Logan never expected himself to get married at all. He’d never been in love before and he would have appreciated if his parents had told him of his betrothal earlier so he could at least try to act the part.

Virgil absolutely despised the thought of leaving the comforts of his own home just to fulfill his parents wishes. He thought if he were to get married then he would at least kind of like the person. And it wouldn’t be a fellow prince... they’re very full of themselves sometimes.

Roman was fortunate enough to meet his groom once when he was younger, six years prior. But his groom was eleven and he was turning fourteen in a few months time. It’s not that exciting.

And Remus was lucky enough to become Virgil’s friend. Virgil almost wished he were betrothed to Remus instead. They seemed to get along better.

Logan and Remus, however, had never met. Once a letter was attempted to be sent, only for copies of it to fall into Logan’s waste bin rather than Remus’ hands.

That was six months ago, when Logan learned that he had a betrothed.

And now Logan and Virgil were on their way to Rupparia.

Although he was meant to be escorted to the castle gates, he didn’t appreciate having Janus accompany him, and Virgil snuck away, essentially getting lost in the process.

Logan, however, was never sure where he was going, nor did Patton, and they ended up bumping into Virgil on their way.

“Sorry.” Logan apologized, not wanting to anger the people on his first day here, “I don’t know my way around here.”

“I don’t either. I’ve only been here once...” Virgil shrugged and noticed the boy standing next to Logan fidgeting around, “It was my fault.”

“No, I should have watched where I stepped.” He excused, “I know you don’t know your way around here, but do you know where the castle may be?”

“I can’t help you, sorry.” Virgil sighed, “I’m trying to find it myself.”

“What brings you to the castle?”

“I’m engaged. Well, it’s an arranged marriage. We’re supposed to be married a month from Tuesday.”

“Strange. That’s my situation exactly.” He said and then noticed both Patton and Virgil staring at him oddly before quickly asking, “You don’t happen to be Prince Remus, do you?”

“No.” He let out a relieved sigh. “I don’t see why he’d have to travel if he lives here, anyway.”

“True. I’m Prince Logan of Crothia.” Logan said, “This is my assistant, Patton.”

Patton smiled and tried to wave. Although he was carrying a small trunk with him, which complicated things. Virgil smiled back at him.

“Prince Virgil Hanover.” He introduced and they shook hands.

“Do you have anyone accompanying you? I’d think so.”

“Well, I kind of ran away from him.” Virgil said as he noticed Janus over Patton’s shoulder. Janus made eye contact with him, glared, and began walking over, “Speak of the devil...”

“Virgil, I can not believe you would run away like that!” Janus expressed to him, “You could’ve gotten hurt!”

“I’m fine, Janus.” Virgil rolled his eyes while Janus checked for any possible injuries he could have acquired in the past five minutes, “Prince Logan, Patton, this is Janus.”

Virgil nudged Janus in the side and he bowed to Logan.

“It’s pleasure to meet you.” He said, “You are Prince Remus’ fiancé, correct?”

“Yes.”

“Very well, I suppose Virgil is going to be your brother in law then.”

“I guess so.” Logan said, “Do you happen to know the way to the castle.”

“Yes! And I was just about to show Virgil there before he ran off.” Janus teased him and Virgil crossed his arms. “I can show you there if you’d like.”

“I’d be grateful.”

“Lovely, follow me then.” Janus made his way into the direction of the castle, with his hands folded behind his back, “You too, Virgil.”

Virgil stuck his tongue out at Janus and was pleased to know that Patton found it funny.

By the time they arrived at this castle, it was already dark, and they were instantly introduced to the king and queen, however, not the princes to whom they were affianced.

After being given a tour throughout the castle, it was insisted to all four princes that they have a proper meeting in the morning, and that they should spend the day together.

But that didn’t stop Remus and Roman from spying on their fiancés through the keyhole of Remus’ room.

“That’s Virgil. I remember him. So one of them must be Logan.” Remus said as they were walking by. “Probably the guy in the fancier clothes. The other two look like servants.”

“You get such a hot fiancé.” Roman sighed and fell back against the bed.

“Yours is hotter.” Remus argued

“Trade?” Roman joked. And Remus fell down next to him. But he couldn’t help but noticing that Roman seemed upset.

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing. You don’t want to hear it.”

“Eh... I’m all ears.”

“I just... I don’t know how to feel about getting married to that guy. He’s cute and he seemed alright when we saw him a few year’s ago but I’m not in love with him. And I don’t know how to feel about getting married this young. I mean, hell, he’s younger than us so he’s probably not doing too well either.”

“Yeah... I get that” Remus sat up, followed by Roman. “But we have to. Or else mom and dad...”

“They’ll be horrified.” Roman rolled his eyes.

“But we’ll be fine. If nothing then we can run away and join a gang of pirates.” Remus said, “At least we still have each other though!”

“Wow... how fun.” Roman teased and Remus threw his arm around him.

“I can tell you about my morbid funeral plans and you can tell me about all the rainbows you saw that day!”

“Lovely.” Roman sighed and hugged Remus back. Eventually he went back to his room when he knew it would be safe for the guards to conclude that he wasn’t spying on his fiancé.

Meanwhile, Patton, with his remarkable hearing had heard up to, “You get such a hot fiancé.” Before they all walked past.

He thought it was funny, yet sad at the same time. Logan hadn’t been excited to find out he was engaged. Now he’s trying to let Logan express his feelings. After being showed to their rooms, Patton stayed behind to help Logan unpack.

“It’s just...” Logan paused a moment and looked up, “It feels like I’m comparable to an animal being sold off. I want to be worth more than an unwanted marriage. Why couldn’t I have been on my own without a husband?”

“I’m not sure Logan, but you can talk to me about it.”

“I just don’t get it. I mean, Virgil seems kind and I suppose he’ll be living here, and so will you, of course, but I just... I don’t want to be married... isn’t the point of it love? I’ve never even felt love for anything... I don’t know how I’m supposed to be married.”

“You can learn to love something. You’ve probably loved before but you hadn’t realized it. Regardless, I’ll be here the whole time.” Patton assured him, “And your marriage doesn’t have to be romantic, if you don’t want it to be. You can just act like friends, if you’re both okay with it.”

“I don’t even know how Remus will be.” He complained.

Patton set down the rest of the clothes he was putting away and walked over to where Logan was sitting, and hugged him. Logan laid his head against Patton’s shoulder and couldn’t bring himself to tears, but he was shaking from frustration, and how upset he was with these arrangements he hadn’t even known about until recently.

“It’s okay, buddy.” Patton said and Logan returned the hug.

Meanwhile, during all of this going on, Virgil was having his own crisis.

“Seeing as the tour is over, I’ll be going. Goodnight, Virgil.” Janus said and began to make an exit.

“Wait.” Virgil told him. He turned around and raised an eyebrow.

“Do you need something?”

“Can you stay with me?” Virgil asked, rather ashamed of himself. Janus stared at him for a moment, his expression growing more and more sympathetic with each fleeting moment. But Virgil’s face looked pleading. And there wasn’t a single voice in his head urging him to leave.

“What’s wrong?” Janus asked, making his way over to where Virgil was sitting.

“Everything. The whole world is wrong.”

“Oh, honey, don’t worry about the world. The world’s always bad. What’s up with you? You don’t seem too hot right now.”

“I don’t want to do this.” He pouted. Janus pulled him in closer and placed his hand on his back.

“What are you concerned about specifically?”

Virgil shuffled closer and hugged around Janus’ torso.

“It’s just... I feel like I might mess up... or he’ll hate me. And I don’t love him. And this whole concept is new. And I just... I don’t like it.”

“I apologize, I can’t help you in stopping any of this. It’s not my place. But you aren’t getting rid of me anytime soon, so I’ll be here if you need to talk.”

“Okay.”

“And I know you hate doing it- but if you need a shoulder to cry on. Then I wouldn’t mind.” Janus shrugged, “If you’re tall enough to reach my shoulder, anyway.”

“Now you’re just being mean.” Virgil rolled his eyes.

After a while, Janus moved away from the hug and lifted up Virgil’s chin, “You’re gonna do great.”

“I guess.”

“Goodnight, Virgil.”

“Goodnight...”

“Sleep well... after all, you have to meet your fiancé tomorrow.”

“Right...” He sighed.

And everybody else was just as excited as he was.

#sanders sides #roman sanders #virgil sanders #remus sanders #logan sanders #patton sanders #janus sanders #arranged marriage au #dukexiety #logince

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vgckwb · 4 years

Text

ML: Isolation Chapter 13: No Boundaries

After school ended, Nino looked at his phone and sighed deeply. Adrien noticed this. He put his arm around his friend. “What’s up?” he asked.

Nino looked at him with a smile. He sighed. “It’s complicated,” he told him. “My boss wants me to come in early today for an all-staff meeting.”

Adrien seemed confused. “So, what’s the problem?” he asked.

“Well, I was supposed to watch my little brother until my mom gets back from work” Nino answered. Nino got another alert. “And he’s here now. I’m just going to have to walk him over to the after school care building.”

“I can watch him,” Adrien offered.

“Oh no,” Nino said. “It’s not that I don’t trust you, but you’re still getting used to regular humans. No way am I going to unleash a little monster on you.”

“Why not? I like Fred Savage” Adrien replied.

“Huh? What are you talking about?” Nino asked.

“Oh yeah. I guess you wouldn’t get that reference” Adrien said. Nino looked at him confused. “See, there’s this old movie called ‘Little Monsters’ and it stars Fred Savage” he explained. Nino still seemed clueless. “Just one of the many benefits of growing up alone.”

Nino hugged Adrien. “It’s OK dude” He said. He stopped hugging him. “Maybe you can invite me over and we can watch it together.”

“That’s OK,” Adrien said. “It’s...not that great…”

“Even better,” Nino said. “We could totally MST3K it then!”

“Wait, you know about MST3K?” Adrien asked.

“Well, from the revival” Nino said. “But my mom did show me some of the classics afterwards.”

“I see,” Adrien said.

Nino got another alert. “Oh crap, it’s Chris. He’s probably getting impatient. We’ll continue this another time.” Adrien and Nino walked out.

When they got to the front of the school, Chris spotted them immediately. “Where were you?!” he demanded.

“Sorry Chris,” Nino said. “I was just talking to my new bro, Adrien.”

“It’s OK,” said a voice. Adrien turned to see that it was Lila. “I saw him waiting here and figured you were a little busy.”

“Oh, thanks Lila,” Nino said.

“So, where are we going today?!” Chris asked, excitedly.

Nino looked downtrodden. “Sorry Chris. But I got called into work early today. You’re going to have to go to after school care.”

Chris got grumpy. “You ALWAYS do this!” he yelled.

“Sorry” Nino said. “I can’t help it.”

Chris continues to simmer in anger. “Now now” Lila said. “It’s not like he WANTED to do this. He’s just busy is all.” Chris groaned. “He’s doing this to help you all out, right?”

Chris’s anger gave out. “Yeah. You’re right” he relented. “I was just so excited about today.”

Nino smiled. “I’ll make it up to you some other time,” he said. “I promise.”

“Well, if you promise…” Chris said.

“Alright then. Let’s go!” Nino said.

“Right,” Chris said. He turned to Lila. “Oh Uh, thanks for helping me out with my problem.”

Lila smiled. “It’s quite alright.” Adrien didn’t quite like that look on her face.

“Come on Chris,” Nino said. “I don’t want to be late.”

“Coming!” Chris said. He rushed to his brother.

Adrien smiled. “I’ll join you,” he said.

“It’s fine,” Nino said.

“I insist,” Adrin said.

“Well, suit yourself,” Nino said. The three of them started walking together. Nino looked at Chris. “By the way, what did Lila help you with?”

“Oh. I was just wondering how to deal with a bad person” Chris said.

“I see,” Nino said. “Well, if she did that, I gotta thank her the next time I see her.”

Adiren grew lost in thought. Is this person bad? I mean, it IS Lila we’re talking about here. Then again, a broken clock is right twice a day. Besides, Lila does have to keep up the appearance of being nice. So she might do some good things.

The three of them arrived at the care center. “Here we are,” Nino said. “I gotta check Chris in, and then it’s off to work.” Adrien nodded. “Let’s go.” He took Chris in.

Adrien waited outside. He saw someone walk out. Nadja Chamack. It was then that an awful thought occurred. Could that bad person be…? It can’t be, right? He thought it over some more. Chris never specified who this “bad person” was, if anyone specific. Still, Chris is a bit rambunctious, and Lila would do a lot to hurt Marinette. But would she go this far? He looked at the building. I can’t risk it not being an option.

Nino came out. “OK. He’s all set. Let’s go.”

“Actually Nino, something just came up on my end” Adrien said. “You go on ahead. I don’t want to keep you from work.”

Nino seemed confused, but said “Well, OK. I’m going to make it up to you as well.”

Adrien smiled. “I’ll hold you to it.” NIno ran off. Adrien raced off in a different direction soon after.

A little bit later, he was running towards the after school center as Cat Noir. If something were to happen... I hope I’m not too late! He kept running. He made his way to the outside area and saw his worst nightmares coming to fruition. Chris had backed Manon into a corner, and he looked serious. He made a mad dash and hopped the fence. “Woah woah woah!” he said, modulator on. “What’s going on here?”

The two kids stopped in shock and looked at Adrien. “Cat Noir?” Chris said. Manon rushed to hide behind Adrien. “What are you doing here?”

“Isn’t it obvious?!” Manon said. “He’s here to protect me!”

“But how?” Chris said. “How would he know to protect you.”

“Because he and I have a special connection!” Manon argued.

Kids do have such an imagination Adrien thought.

Chris hissed. “Well, you’re only protecting a bad person!” he yelled. He made a motion to crack his knuckles, but they didn’t actually crack.

Adrien panicked. “Settle down Chris.”

Chris stopped and stared at him in awe. “How do you know my name?”

“Well, uh…” Adrien said. I messed up.

“Duh!” Manon said. “It’s GOT to be one of his superpowers. He could probably tell you the name of anyone here.”

Thanks Manon.

“Really…” Chris said sceptically. He looked around and pointed at another young girl. “What’s her name?”

Adrien was nervous. He decided to try and make a joke of it. “...Jean?”

Chris looked at him. “Wow. You really DO have super powers!”

That worked?!

Chris glared back at Manon. “But that doesn’t change the fact that she’s bad!”

“Woah woah woah woah woah” Adrien said, trying to calm Chris. “What makes you so sure she’s bad?”

“She’s protecting someone bad!” Chris argued.

I knew it. “Who is she protecting?”

“Our old babysitter,” Chris said.

So. Marinette babysat for Chris too. I guess that makes sense.

“Marinette didn’t do anything wrong!” Manon shouted.

“She bullied someone so much she made her cry for a day!” Chris fired back.

“SHE DID NOT!” Manon scrambled.

“OK OK, calm down,” Adrien said. “Let’s just think here. Now Chris,” Chris looked at him, “whether or not she did do that, is what you’re doing an appropriate response?”

Chris looked at his hand. “Well, she’s a bad guy! And bad guys need to be defeated!”

“From the sounds of it, it’s this babysitter that you say is bad,” Adrien said. “Did Manon bully that person?”

“Well, no…” Chris said. “But she’s supporting her!”

“But she’s not hurting anyone, is she?” Adrien asked.

Chris thought about it. “Well, I just talked with her. The girl that got bullied, I mean. She said that whenever someone praises our old babysitter, she can’t help but feel pain.”

Adrien looked serious. “I know how hard it is to deal with something like that,” he said, “but is this going to help her?”

Chris seemed frustrated. “I thought if I could punish evil, I’d be a hero. Like you.”

“Corning someone and intimidating them doesn’t sound like a hero now, does it?” Adrien asked. Chris finally relented and shook his head. Adrien smiled. “There you go.”

Chris smiled back. “Thank you. For stopping me.” He looked off.

“What’s wrong?” Adrien asked.

“I was just thinking” Chris said. “If you had been around earlier, you could have stopped the bully.”

“She’s NOT a bully!” Manon shouted.

“HEY!” said one of the care center employees.

Adrien looked alert. “Well, I better let them finish helping you out. Seeya!” he saluted and ran off.

Once he got home, he contacted Marinette. “Hey. Something happened.”

“What?” Marinette asked.

Adrien sighed. “Lila crossed a line.”

“!! What did she do?”

“She manipulated Nino’s little bother Chris to attack Manon.”

“!!”

“Don’t worry. I stepped in before it got too far.” No response. “I had to leave because one of the supervisors came out. But I think I got through to Chris.” Still nothing. “Are you OK?”

“OK.”

“OK what?”

“I’ve made a decision. If it’s for the purposes of defeating Lila, you can tell people who I am.”

“Really?!” Adrien replied.

“Yes.”

“So, anyone as long as they’re helping me defeat Lila? Even if by chance that person was Chloe?”

“I don’t care. Lila’s mad at me? That’s fine. She wants to destroy my parents? They can defend themselves. But Manon? Manon is completely defenseless. What kind of person would I be if I just let Lila trample all over her life before it can even truly begin? I have a means of dealing with her, so I need to take it before something even worse happens.”

Adrien smiled rebelliously. “I can see why Manon really likes you.”

“So you’re going to tell Chloe?”

“Well, and Kagami. She’s already been helping me out a little.”

“That’s fine. ANYTHING to expose Lila.”

“On your command, my lady. It might take a bit of time, since Chloe can be a tough nut to crack sometimes. Also, I want to see how things play out with Chris.”

“Understandable. Thank you for saving Manon.”

“It’s what a hero does.”

“He he. Goodnight Adrien.”

“Goodnight.”

#miraculous ladybug #miraculous ladybug fanfic #adrien #nino #chris #lila #Manon #Marinette #no kwami #NICE GABRIEL

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falling-last-stardust · 6 years

Text

Compilation of interviews from DreamWorks staff, Dean DeBlois and Jay Baruchel on the TV series (ROB, DOB & RTTE) and its canonicity within the HTTYD movieverse

Since I still see some people asking or arguing about this, I’ve decided to look for some interviews across the internet and compile as much as possible in a single post. Bear in mind that some of these are a few years old, with the earliest from 2014.

Note and Disclaimer: Although I will state my perspective and opinion at the end of the post, I want to highlight that this is not to argue in favour or against anyone who considers it canon or not, but just to provide clarity to those who would like to hear what was actually said by those involved in the making of the franchise. Whether anyone wants to accept the TV series as canon despite what the Dreamworks crew and actors said, it’s entirely up to them.

Long post ahead so I’m putting it under a “Keep reading” link. This post will also be updated if I find anymore interviews in the future relevant to this topic.

Unfortunately since Tumblr no longer allows external links to be posted here, I have used redirects instead for the links of the interviews, which cannot be opened with the Tumblr mobile app, so you will need to use a browser to open them. Nevertheless, I have copied in and bold the relevant parts for those who cannot open the links.

Collider (2014): with Jay Baruchel (and Dean DeBlois)

Link: [x]

How does the television series factor in to the movie franchise?

JAY BARUCHEL: One of the cool things about the TV show is that we get to go a bit more into the everyday life. We don’t have enough screen time to do that in the movies. We have a very specific finite amount of time that things have to happen in, in the movies. What the TV show gives us is the chance to put the audience in that neighborhood and on that island, experiencing the minutiae of everyday life for a Viking.

Jay, it’s very rare for the star of the movie to be involved with the TV show, as well. How did you become involved with the TV series?

BARUCHEL: Well, for me, there was no question. I didn’t want anyone else to play the role. I think part of the actor’s job is to take ownership of the character, and to be defensive and protective, and all that stuff. So, when it was first mentioned that Hiccup might have a life on television, it had to be me, in my opinion. What is really cool about the TV show is that it takes place in between the two movies. And so, when all is said and done and we walk away, we’ll have given the world a pretty full, complete story. Selfishly, it’s kept me in that mind space. A lot of people have been asking me what it’s like to come back to this character and come back to this world, and my answer has constantly been, “I never left.” I just love that we’re creating this deep, open platform that’s a multimedia world. What it all comes down to is that I just didn’t want anyone else to play Hiccup.

Groucho Reviews (2014): with Dean DeBlois and the cast

Link: [x]

G: So as we move toward a wrap-up here, maybe you could all talk a little bit about where you see the franchise going. I know there’s going to be a TV series that shows us what happens between the films…

Jay Baruchel (JB): Uh-huh!

G: And then where it might go from there. I’m sure there’s a plot for a third film, right—?

Dean DeBlois (DD): Mm-hm!

G: Because it’s conceived as a trilogy?

DD: Yeah, absolutely. We didn’t want a sequel that felt random, or unneccesary. So in charting Hiccup’s coming of age, the end goal is to end up where Cressida Cowell began her books. Hiccup is an adult reflecting back on a time when there were dragons. And that seems to indicate that dragons will go away, that Hiccup will complete his coming of age. How that all evolves is yet to be unveiled. we just promise to do it in a very powerful and hopefully emotionally satisfying way. And then the TV series actually helps bridge the gap. So now that they’re heading into Series Three and Four, they’re going to use our older versions of the characters and begin to set up the year leading up to movie number two. So you’ll start to see Hiccup beginning to explore the outer limits of the Viking map. You’ll see the development of the dragon-racing games on Berk and other things: y'know, Hiccup’s dragon blade. All of these things will have a little bit more time to explain what they are and how they came to be.

Rotoscopers (2015): with Douglas Sloan

Link: [x]

Dean DeBlois could not be involved on a creative level with Race to the Edge, as he was incredibly busy with How to Train Your Dragon 2. However, they did continue to have regular check-in dinners with Dean to ensure that nothing in Race to the Edge conflicted with the overall continuity of the franchise.

Toonzone (2015): with Art Brown and Douglas Sloan

Link: [x]

Q: You know the point you’re going to, the second movie. In terms of storytelling, is that a process you have enjoyed? Knowing where you end up?

DOUG SLOAN: Yeah, I think it’s really actually great. It’s almost like bowling with bumpers because you know you can’t go here, here, here. You can’t bring in Hiccup’s mother. You can’t do any of the stuff they’re doing in the second movie. You can’t do something that upsets the movie or changes it in any way. So you really do have a guideline as to where you can go and where you can’t go. When we did it earlier it was hard because we didn’t know what the second movie was about, and it was constantly evolving, so the series had to constantly evolving behind it, but now–

ART BROWN: And it’s cool because you have a line that you’re going to, but you get to do all this. There’s only a few ground rules really. You can’t introduce them to stuff they don’t know about yet in the second movie, and anything we do introduce, like the Dragon Eye, we have to get rid of it or else they’d be using it. The mom and Drago, stuff like that. Other than that, they’re out in another area, and we’re free. Every once in a while if we’re not sure, we’ll e-mail Dean or go out to dinner with him and say hey, are you cool with this? And 99% of the time he’ll say yeah. Or maybe he’ll say can you adjust it just a little bit because I’m going to touch on something in the third movie or I’m thinking about it.

Rama’s Screen (2015): with Art Brown and Douglas Sloan

Link: [x]

Art Brown: “We’re in pretty close contact with Dean [DeBlois], the writer/director of the movies. We check with him when we’re going to do, before we do the season, we break into season, we say this is the direction we’re going to go, we don’t want to step on anything, sometimes he’ll say ‘Yeah, can you adjust it? Because I’m going to do this in the next movie’”

Doug Sloan: “We had much more of an issue in the previous iteration of this show because we didn’t know what the movie was really going to be so we were sort of writing in the dark but for the Netflix, going forward with Netflix, we know where the show was going because we’ve seen the movie. Because our show is the prequel to the sequel, so we know everything that’s going to happen.”

Art Brown: “We know what we can’t do in the series. We can’t have Hiccup meet his mother obviously. Stoick is alive, but we can tease towards. We can’t kill Stoick in the series, we can tease towards Drago or the bad guys towards the series, you get a sense that they’re working for this big guy. We’ll set that sort of stuff up, there’s just certain things that we stay away from but like Doug said, that’s kind of self-explanatory, I guess.”

Doug Sloan: “The great thing is we get to introduce things like the flight suit and the flaming sword that’s in the second movie, and how to came to be, how Stoick got a dragon, we get to put that in the series, and so the audience will know how they got from the first movie to the second movie sort of through the TV series.”

Doug Sloan: “Ya, it’s great. We’re really really lucky that we have the relationship we do with Dean [DeBlois] and Bonnie Arnold. And Gregg Taylor, he’s an executive at DreamWorks, who’s a movie executive primarily but he also works on our show, so he really is in the loop.“

Art Brown: “Ya, we check with him a lot. And if we don’t have the chance to talk with Dean or Bonnie, we talk to Gregg. But they’re so accessible, I mean honestly, ‘Hey, man what do you think about this episode, are you cool with it?’ And usually he’d say ‘Go with it’”

Rotoscopers (2015): with Richard Hamilton and Dean DeBlois

Link: [x]

BS: Let’s go off topic for a little bit with a question for Dean. There is almost always an ongoing argument within the Dragons fandom over what can be considered canon or not if it’s in any other medium outside the feature films and shorts. Even the TV series has its ‘canon’ status called into question on a regular basis. In your own opinion, what do you consider to be the official canon for the How to Train Your Dragon franchise?

Dean DeBlois: The feature film trilogy and the characters contained within it serve a narrative purpose specific to those three films, but we’ve made efforts to ensure that every expansion, whether it’s in the TV series, comics, or other mediums, have a sense of tonal consistency and storytelling unity in keeping with the feature films. The only real exception is Cressida Cowell’s book series, being that her storyline focuses on a younger Hiccup and his talking, dog-sized dragon named Toothless. The feature films were a conscious departure from Cressida’s books, in order to tell a story that had more of the tropes of a fantasy adventure. So, within the world of the films, we have tried to remain consistent in all of the expansions. The comic books will adhere to the same constraints and tone of the trilogy. The TV series and comics are meant to fill in time jumps between the films, offering insight and back-story to compliment the main narrative of Hiccup’s coming-of-age.

BS: This question can be answered by either of you. Are there any elements from the TV show (characters, plotlines, settings, etc.) that will carry over or be touched upon in the graphic novels? Similarly, are there any elements from Cressida Cowell’s original books that you want to incorporate into the graphic novels?

Richard Hamilton: The answer to both is a resounding “Yes!” Part of the fun of the comics is coming up with new human and dragon characters and worlds, and part of it is mixing and matching elements from across the franchise to create new stories. How would Eret and Heather react to each other if they met? Is there a heist story to be told in the comics where the alarm system is made up of a bunch of tiny dragons? But we have to be a little careful with the continuity, as the TV show takes place before the event of the second movie, and our graphic novels come after, so we don’t want to spoil any of their awesome stories. Cressida Cowell’s series is a bit more removed from that continuity, so I think the challenge there is for us to reinterpret some of her ideas in a way that works for comics, which is a pretty tall order, since her books are just so great.

Reddit (2018): with Dean DeBlois

Link: [x]

Q: Will there be references to Race to the edge in how to train your dragon 3 or how do you feel race to the edge interpreted what happened between the first and second movie?

A: I would agree with the latter. I would say Race to the Edge deals with what the first two movies go over. The film trilogy tends to stick to its film characters and script. Although we do tend to maintain to the universe.

Berk's Grapevine (2018): with Dean DeBlois

My final comments and opinion:

Based on these interviews above, it seems that the TV series is meant to be canon to the HTTYD movieverse from the very beginning, as it was specifically created to serve as a bridge between HTTYD and HTTYD2. The showrunners of the TV series are aware that there are limits they have to adhere to (e.g. such as not having Hiccup meet his mother before the events of HTTYD2); the fact that they have regular meetings with Dean DeBlois and Bonnie Arnold shows that they have tried to keep the series within the overall continuity and ensure that they do not step on each other’s toes on what they can or cannot show.

If the TV series is not meant to be canon in the first place, it doesn’t make sense for the showrunners to even bother having any meetings with Dean and Bonnie at all and for Dreamworks to market this as an interquel between the first two movies.

Yes it is agreed across the fandom there are inconsistencies across the show, but they are rather minor bumps compared to the overall timeline of the franchise and should not be used as a huge factor to discredit the canonicity of a work. Furthermore, what work of fiction is 100% consistent anyway? Inconsistencies also exist within a single work of fiction such as a book and movie and even within the HTTYD book series.

Also, I have seen some here claiming that the movie crew did not contribute anything to the TV series and I would like to point out that that is completely untrue. Other than Dean DeBlois having regular meetings with the showrunners, there are a few from the movie department such as Simon Otto (head of character animation) and Gil Zimmerman (head of layout) who have directed some episodes of RTTE. You can find their names in the credits of the episodes they directed (screenshots below), or refer to this link here for reference. Additionally, Elaine Bogan (who has directed several episodes) was a storyboard artist in the first HTTYD film (source).

Although I have presented my perspective and opinion above, I would like to iterate that I’m not posting this to re-start the argument between those who considers it canon and those who do not, but to provide some information and clarity to those who would like to hear what was said by those involved in the making of the franchise. Whether anyone wants to accept the TV series as canon, it’s entirely their decision and there is no right or wrong in this matter. I’ve learned and accepted that fanon discontinuity doesn’t just happened in this fandom, but in other fandoms such as the Star Wars and Harry Potter ones too, although some of them have gotten very vitriolic lately.

Despite our differing opinions and whether we want to accept the TV series as canon or not, it doesn’t hurt to be civil about this and show respect to each other, so that we don’t end up becoming a toxic fandom like what has already happened with the Star Wars and Harry Potter ones. It also doesn’t mean that we cannot show appreciation to the creators, writers and animators for their hard work on expanding the franchise whether it’s the movies, TV series or comics, even though we do not always agree with all of their decisions made, and that they were not obliged to do this for us (the fans) in the first place.

Bonus: What is confirmed to not be canon to the HTTYD movieverse

Additionally, we have confirmation from Richard Hamilton and Dean DeBlois that the Legend of the Boneknapper Dragon short and the upcoming rumoured Rescue Riders series are not officially canon to the movie franchise. Take a look at their tweets below.

Richard Hamilton on LOTBD:

Dean DeBlois on Rescue Riders:

#httyd #how to train your dragon #interviews #canon #dreamworks animation #dean deblois #jay baruchel #art brown #douglas sloan #richard hamilton #rob #dob #rtte #riders of berk #defenders of berk #race to the edge #long post

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imagineaworlds · 6 years

Text

(2) brandewyn

summary: Thais Bolton lives in the OASIS. Well, sort of. Her dream is to one day live in the OASIS as Brandewyn with her best friend Wade. But he’s more concerned with the three keys James Halliday left behind after his death. The two of them embark on a familiar journey through the OASIS to save it from corporate assholes who want to take it away.

pairing: wade watts x female!oc

word count: 3,083

warnings: cursing. mention of death. mention and description of illness.

a/n: damn, it’s only chapter 2 and we’re already getting angsty. shit. also, i’m super bad about always mixing book and movie facts... i haven’t read the book, but wiki’s are a great thing sometimes.

(1) - (2) - (3) - (4)

For dinner, Wade and I sat on the car atop the pile of trash while eating sandwiches an entire bag of Doritos between the two of us. Wade couldn’t stop talking about Art3mis, and I couldn’t stop listening. I was excited that he was excited. The thought of becoming friends with Art3mis was now burned into Wade’s mind, and he was itching to see it happen.

He asked me why I left the OASIS so early, and why I freaked out during the race. Despite how close the two of us were, there were only a few things we kept hidden from each other. I never told him about my mom getting sick, or my strong fear of the race. I gave the Copper Key race another shot for Wade, but I couldn’t tell him that… So I told him I had to go grocery shopping and during the race I just was scared of zero-ing out. Wade nodded understandingly, and accepting the lie.

Sometimes it hurt me to not tell Wade the truth about my mom, but she loved him like a son, and she wanted to protect him. Of course I understood, so even after four months, Wade still didn’t know.

“I saw Soyzie,” I changed the topic before taking another bite of my sandwich. “I still can’t get her to tell me how she got the Rosalina skin.”

“I think you look badass in your Molly Ringwald from The Breakfast Club take on Sarah Connor. It’s just weird enough that it works.” He was teasing me, and I hit his arm.

It wasn’t meant to be Molly Ringwald… I just liked the red hair and the pink Sarah Connor outfit. But at the end of the day, he was right, it did look like Molly Ringwald played Sarah Connor in The Terminator. I had been meaning to change it for the longest time, but I kept pushing it off until I forgot about it.

After we finished our small meals and the sun went down, Wade helped me down. In the weird mix of lighting between the orange sunset behind the stacks and the darkness of the rising night, Wade looked older to me, and I saw him in a different way than ever before. His eyes were watching me intently. And I finally noticed just how much weight he lost. Maybe that was what made him look older? More mature? I didn’t want to think about it.

Then he snapped out of trance, and I saw a thought glow in eyes. Wade jumped up, “Oh, my gosh! Go online. Meet me at Halliday’s Journals.”

“Wade Owen, what are you on about?!” I called after him as he was running to his bus.

“Just go!”

I rolled my eyes and threw my head back as I sauntered towards my bus, and thought about how close I was to Wade. Did he find it weird? Did he like me in that way? Or was he just staring off into space, thinking about whatever impressive discovery he had just made. “Guess I’ll never know,” I whispered to myself as I climbed into the rusted bus.

As I logged on, I immediately met Z at Halliday’s Journals. This building was massive, and the entire outside was glass, as if to say Halliday was finally an open book. Inside, there were books, movies, memories, everything Halliday had stored away in that brilliant brain of his was transferred into the Journals for Gunters to dig through.

While I walked through the front entrance to find Z, I thought about how people would fight to get into the building since it had reached capacity almost everyday. But now it was empty. The hype around the search for the keys vanished, and everyone moved onto other things. Never Z. He was loyal to a fault and dedicated to finding those keys and saving the OASIS from IOI. I admired him for that, for never giving up. Even in the real world Wade was like that, which was part of the reason my mom didn’t want to tell him about her getting sick.

At the top of the steps, Z was talking to the unimpressed Curator. Oh, how that man loathed me and Perzival. For nearly a year we spent twenty four seven in the Halliday Journals, which meant that the Curator was stuck there, too. So it was really no surprise that he hated seeing us come in every now and then when we needed information on a new lead. “You’ve seen everything in here over a hundred times,” he would say as he led us through the halls. And every time Z and I would roll our eyes.

“What are we doing here?” I asked Perzival as he tried talking the Curator into something. “What did you figure out?”

Perzival radiated with adventure, “Art3mis said something to me earlier which got me thinking. And then when we were talking about your fucked up avatar, I put it all together. Halliday hated rules, that’s why the OASIS lacks so many.”

I thought long and hard, and then at the same time we said, “2029…” I shook with excitement, “Curator, can you take us to Gregarious Games 2029 Office Party?” The Curator kept a stern look. “Please?” I added hopefully.

The Curator sighed, “Very well. If you wouldn’t mind following me.”

When we were following the Curator through the ostensibly endless, Z was hardly walking straight as anticipation visibly coursed through him. “Halliday was pushing Morrow out because he thought Ogden lacked the concentration and devotion for the OASIS. Ogden wanted to implement rules, make it so people wouldn’t live their lives inside of the OASIS.” I talked myself through it. “But then why does this matter?”

“Think about it, B. If Halliday despised rules, why would he follow them in the creation of his tasks to acquire the keys? We’re missing something, and I think that something is in this specific memory. That’s why Art3mis mentioned it to me.”

“Couldn’t it just be a coincidence?” I questioned. “I mean, she’s a Gunter like us, she knows everything about Halliday… like us… and she also wants to win like us. So she could just be throwing you off track so she wins faster.”

Z shook his head, “She’s not like that.” I froze in my tracks, and it took Z a few more steps before he realized I was no longer at his side. He turned around, “What is it?” he asked.

I stared at him, “You— you like her. You have feelings for Art3mis.” Z turned red and stuttered as he tried to deny the accusation, but it only made him look more guilty. In my disbelief, I remembered the promise I made to myself, and I continued on through the corridors.

When we arrived at the memory, the Curator walked up to the controls while Z and I watched carefully. We took note of every movement they made, every word they said. Morrow was pleading for Halliday to keep him on board the OASIS project, trying to prove his worth, but Halliday wasn’t listening, his mind had been made.

“I liked things how they were… when they were…” Halliday said shyly. Obviously referencing the 80’s, his favorite decade. Ogden continued to argue, and then he compromised. “Why can’t we go backwards?” Halliday half-joked. “We always talk about moving forward, but maybe sometimes it’s better to move backwards really fast, no slowing down, no stopping… no thinking. Just the gas pedal on the floor and the tires spinning the opposite direction.”

At the same time, Z and I looked at each other with eureka. “You have to go backwards on the track!” we exclaimed simultaneously. Z was buzzing, “Oh, my gosh… At tomorrow’s race, I’m going to try it.”

“But what if you zero out?”

“I won’t. I know this is right.” He looked over at the still less than impressed Curator. “We should be getting home anyways.” His avatar reached for his visor, and then he was logged out of the OASIS.

I was left with only the Curator as I reached for my visor, “As usual, Curator, it’s been an honor.”

And then I logged out. I set my visor down on the table and grabbed my stuff, making sure that everything was clean and organized. No way in hell was I going to turn my area into a hoarding pen like Wade’s. Speaking of whom, Wade was over the moon happy. The entire walk back to the stacks he was rambling on and on about Art3mis, Halliday’s memory, and his plan at the race the next day.

Six months ago, I would have invited Wade to sleep over at my house like when we were little. His parents joked that he lived more at our home than theirs, and when he moved in with Alice, it became more common than before. Now, I worried that someday he’d be waiting outside the door for me one morning and he’d see just how sick my mom was. I wondered if he still would have slept over all of the time and ate meals with us would things be different. Would he have feelings for Art3mis— a girl he’d never met in person. Maybe. I didn’t ponder it too much that night as I was exhausted.

Wade was the first up the rope since his place was further up, and I waited patiently for the rope to come back down. Nearly everyone was inside except for the occasional beggar. That far into the Columbus there was never any wildlife. No birds, no dogs or cats, nothing. They probably hated the state of Ohio just as much as I did. So the streets were deathly quiet, and it always sent shivers up my spine.

A wave of relief washed over me as the rope came back down and I could finally go home after a long day. I carefully opened the door, cautious not to make a sound in case my mom was finally getting some sleep. My dad was in the kitchen, cleaning dishes from their dinner. He looked over his shoulder at me and smiled. I got my poor eyesight from him, and he loved to fashion these black and blue glasses that were too small for his face, so he had to squint to see sometimes, which merely defeated the purpose of glasses.

I sighed as I set my stuff on the small table near the door. Quietly I asked, “How is she?” Dad shrugged. “Was today a good day?”

He shrugged again. There were never good days with my mom anymore, but my dad always refused to use the OASIS as an escape. He would always say, “I have everything I could ever want with me already. My two beautiful girls, and a home, a good paying job… We have it better than most, Thais.” I cringed at the name. There were only three people on the planet who were allowed to call me by my birth name, and even then I wanted to wash their mouths with soap.

Even in a world where the OASIS is the only thing that matters to 90% of the population, there was still a need for teachers. My dad was a professor at a technology school, and at the time that was all anyone wanted to learn. Not to brag, because I really didn’t care, but we made more money than most, but we prefered living in the stacks. It was closer to work for my dad, closer to the hospital for my mom, and closer to Wade for me. Really, it just made sense to stay there and not move out of the stacks to somewhere that wouldn’t have worked for us.

So, my dad being the great professor he was, loved mythology. Him and my mom had books and books full of different kinds of mythology. But they loved everything Greek over all else. The mythology fascinated them, and the history captured them in a way they could never describe. So when it came to naming me, they spent days researching Greek names.

Somehow they decided on Thais, a mistress to Alexander the Great’s friend (and presumably Alexander the Great). Don’t get me wrong, she was powerful and smart in her own right, but I hated the fact that I was named after… well… a prostitute. Hence, everyone who wasn’t my parents or Wade had to call me Brandy. Brandewyn was my OASIS name, and people in the OASIS knew me as Brandy, so it just stuck.

My dad dried his hands on a towel and swung it over his shoulder, “I’m taking her to the doctor tomorrow; see if they can give her any more medicine for the pain,” he explained. That meant it was a really bad day. He tried to lighten the mood, “How was your day?”

“Good. Wade and I think we have a really good lead on the first key. I think he might actually get it.”

“He. You won’t be getting the key?”

“I dunno,” I said, unsure of myself. “Maybe. Wade just seems more interested in finding the keys with Art3mis now… I don’t think he wants me along for the ride.”

Dad scoffed, “Come on, Thais, he’s your best friend. This Artemis is a stranger. Don’t stress yourself over it.” My lip quivered as I told him about Wade’s crush on Art3mis. “Oh, my love,” he cooed as he held me in his arms, “I trust that one day he will come around. Believe me.” I nodded into his chest. And then we both froze in the middle of the house when the doorbell rang. From their bedroom, my mother groaned in pain as she woke up. My father told me to see who it was while he helped her.

I opened the door to find Wade standing there with a large duffle bag that carried all of his stuff. Bewildered, I looked between him and the bag. He said that he needed a place to stay for a bit. “Aunt Alice’s boyfriend lost all of their money, and I don’t want to feel like a burden on her right now. I figured I’d just sleepover like old times, if that’s okay.” I was still stunned by his words, and paralyzed at the sound of my mother crying from pain and my father trying to calm her. Wade tried to look around me to inspect what was happening in the house. “Is everything alright?”

Another lie, “Yes.” Then another cry, but this time for water. “My mom just isn’t feeling well today. Here, come in.” I hate lying to him. I thought to myself as I closed the door behind him and hurried to take a glass of water to my parents’ bedroom. “It’s Wade,” I told my dad. “He needs a place to stay.”

My mom used her little strength to look up at me, “Wade Watts?” I nodded. “No. No. Dan, go talk to Alice… he can’t stay her.”

“Mama—” I tried explaining, but she started coughing. I lowered my head as I exited the bedroom and went back to where Wade was standing in the middle of the living room. “My dad’s going to try talking to Alice. If we need, we can help financ—”

Wade shook his head, “Come on, Thais, you know she won’t take it. She’s stubborn like that. Even when she’s desperate, she won’t admit she needs help.” Louder coughs echoed through the RV home. “Are you sure your mom’s okay?”

In that moment, I prayed that he wouldn’t turn around to see the full medicine cabinet. Every shelf was filled front to back with different medicines that worked and didn’t work, daily meds and occasional meds. Everything from the common stomach ache reliever to tranquilizers were in there. But when my eyes quickly shifted to look at the cabinet, Wade followed my gaze and turned around. Slowly, he approached the cabinet, and I felt my heart drop to my stomach.

Wade didn’t even look at me as he opened the cabinet door to reveal the clutter of medicine bottles. His voice cracked, “How long has she been sick, Thais? Just tell me the truth.”

“A few months…”

“You should have told me.”

“It wasn’t my decision whether or not I should tell you. She wanted to protect you, so she made us promise to keep it a secret.”

Then he wanted to know how bad it was, and I told him it was getting worse. He wanted to know if there was a cure, or at the very least something that could slow it down. I said no. He asked if she was going to die. I said yes, most likely. And then we both reluctantly broke into tears. I had never admitted out loud before that my mom wouldn’t survive the year, and it shattered me to think about it. But Wade… my mom was his mom. Aunt Alice was the only blood he had left, but he and my mom shared a special connection. We were both losing a mother.

“I’m so sorry,” I apologized as I hugged him tightly. Wade’s arms snaked around my waist and pulled me closer to him for comfort. Neither of said anything after that, we just stayed tangled in each other’s arms for a while before our legs grew tired and we were forced to go to bed.

Wade rested on his back on the second mattress I kept in my room for our sleepovers. His hands were crossed over his chest, he only did that when he felt self conscious, and our glasses were resting on the bed side table next to each other. We both stared at the ceiling in silence. Despite how tired we both felt, we couldn’t fall asleep. Occasionally, my mom would cough or groan, and we could hear my dad shuffling in bed to make sure she was alright. And then when they were asleep all we could hear was the sound of her oxygen tank.

One cough was so loud and powerful it scared me, making me jump in my own skin. I hadn’t even noticed— or cared to notice— my hand fall to the side of my bed. It only startled me when I felt Wade’s palm slide against mine, and then our fingers interlaced. And finally I felt myself slowly falling asleep.

#ready player one #ready player one imagine #ready player one imagines #ready player one smut #ready player one series #wade watts #wade watts imagine #wade watts imagines #wade watts smut #wade watts series

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ikesenlemonadestandstories · 6 years

Text

Bones Made For Chaos

Hey there honey bee’s! So here’s part 5 of the Retrograde Spell series. Part 1 can be found here. All of my other Ikesen works are chilling on the Master List. Idk fam...I got so blocked and it took a bit but I hope you enjoy this! Pacing is hard....anyways...thanks for stopping by! Lots of love <3

Admin T~

Per usual I’m sticking it under the cut because I just like the sound of my keyboard clicking...unless you’re on mobile...then your dash is just going to be an explosion of text. Tumblr and I are still arguing lol anyways...message me :) ask my questions, the box is open!

[YN]

“Well aren’t you just a peach?” You mumbled groggily.

The situation had to be bad if Yuuto had come down to help. You weren’t exactly sure how you had gotten...where ever it was you were...but the last thing you remember was Mitsunari dropping his book when you walked into your room, so it stood to reason he had something to do with it. Yuuto looked ready to mouth off and not having the energy to fight back you stopped him short by putting your free hand on his cheek.

“Thank you.” his eyes went wide and you could help but laugh “What, weren’t expecting that?”

“Not exactly…” he was blushing, poor kid was embarrassed. Looking over at the IV in your arm you followed the line. It was extra obvious to you that you were getting a transfusion even if everyone else in the room seemed very confused.

“Is it yours or Kanna’s” you asked pointing at the bag in Mitsunari’s hand. Concern etched on everyone’s faces as they caught the implications of your question.

“Mine” he puffed his cheeks out “and I don’t want to hear any of your corny transfusion jokes…just be quiet for once.”

“What? You are totally missing out!” he glared “Fine...but we may need to explain this a bit.” motioning with you eyes to the Oda men in the room. “Mind if I sit up?”

“If you feel up for it. The patches should have kicked in by now and I’m here so you should have a bit of extra strength.”

You felt your bones creak as you shifted on the floor, sitting carefully so you didn’t disturb the IV, you crossed your legs and looked around the room.

“So who wants to go first?”

“Deja-vu” Hideyoshi mumbled under his breath

“Should I just start asking questions than to minimize dallying and to ease your uncomfortableness Hideyoshi?” Mitsubishi chimed in with a smirk.

“Can we not do this now…(YN) is that blood?” Ieyasu inquired

“Yup, Yuuto’s blood if you’re looking for me to get specific.”

Most of them looked concerned, sharing looks with one another, some faces indicating more intrigue than others.

“…why are you getting his blood?” Ieyasu continued.

“It’s called a transfusion. We collect blood from willing donors, in this case Yuuto, to be used in emergency situations. I assume I lost a large quantity of blood, and because Yuuto and I have the same blood type, he was able to give me his to make up for it.”

“Blood type?”

“There are eight different types of blood. And it can get very confusing to explain, so for simplicity's sake all you need to know is that Yuuto and I have the same blood type, airgo we can freely give to each other without our bodies rejecting the donation. If you’re really curious I can test you guys later and let you know the results, but that pounding outside is getting concerning, so i’m going to suggest we move on.”

“That was my next question. That can’t possibly be thunder.” Mitsuhide put his cool gaze on Yuuto.

“Correct, like I stated earlier, I am charged with protecting the clan...that includes this idot. I use our technology to provide medical attention and in this case to also set up barriers.”

“Ohhh so like a fancy impenetrable fort?” Masamune plopped down next to me as he questioned my brother, grabbing my arm gently and checking out the IV.

“Correct.” Yuuto turned his attention to me. “It would appear it’s finished, how are you feeling.”

“Like shit...but that’s a step up from death right?”

“You know...sometimes I’m sorry I ask.” he let out an exasperated sigh “Do you think you’ll be able to fight eight of them off.”

“Maybe? Honestly it would be better if Kanna were here, though everything’s easier when I’m functioning at my highest capacity, but we won't know until we try.”

You shrugged nonchalantly, but it was the truth. You didn’t feel awesome, and while Yuuto being there gave you just a bit of an energy boost, it was nothing compared to the surge you felt when Kanna was around. You made your way to your feet after the needle was removed and your arm was bandaged appropriately. A bit unsteady at first but with some help from Mitsunari and Masamune you were as good as you could be after losing about what you assumed was twenty percent of your blood volume.

“Your gear is new...I gave Kanna hers a bit ago, so you’re behind, but it’s lighter and thinner. The chemistry behind the armor makes the material stronger while still maintaining flexibility to improve your mobility. Everything is activated the same way so you shouldn’t have any trouble adjusting. I also got to pick the new pattern and color scheme...I still had to use ‘depths of space black’.” he paused to roll his eyes. “but yours has more hints of orange...I think it suits you”

Yuuto stood in front of you, looking you over he sighed deeply and drew his short sword, the pale glow warm and familiar in front of you. He couldn’t possibly…

“This is Yuuto Karasu, Karasu Clan Heir. I request the Karasu Commander, (YN) Karasu, be given full autonomy of her power until my departure.”

You eyes went wide, why was he removing the stop-checks placed on your sword? There’s no way everyone was going to agree to this...it would just get him in trouble.

“Yuuto…” you hissed through closed teeth.

“This is Kanna Karasu, Karasu Strategist, I consent to full autonomy.”

“This is Yui Karasu, Reserve Strategist, I consent to full autonomy.”

“This is Aoi Karasu, Reserve Commander, I consent to full autonomy.”

“This is Haruto Karasu, Standing Clan Head, I consent and accept the motion. Full autonomy is to be granted to (YN) Karasu until Yuuto Karasu, Clan Heir returns to the citadel.”

…

[Mitsunari]

I was still trying to wrap my mind around everything that was going on. (YN) had passed out, she had been barely warm in my arms. Ieyasu had done everything he could to save her, but we still weren’t in the clear. In a stroke of luck and in dramatic fashion her brother had arrived in a lightning bolt? There was a giant bubble protecting Ieyasu’s manor. (YN) had been given special bandages and her brothers blood. Not only was she now conscious she was standing and preparing for battle and every fiber of my being was screaming out, fighting the urge to grab her and run out of there.

Why would she go right back out there and fight...even Masamune and Hideyoshi had enough sense to take it a little easy after sustaining such a life threatening injury. Ieyasu had questioned Yuuto and (YN) but every answer just confused me more. She would explain it to us later but the knot in my stomach just kept growing.

She had even admitted she felt terrible but she was still going out there to fight. Why couldn’t we do something to help? I was so frustrated and confused I just wanted to scream, who cared if she had new armor? That hadn’t protected her before, how would it be different now. I wanted to trust her but the fear I felt was consuming my thoughts.

Yuuto drew his short sword and garnered everyone's attention, even (YN) was looking at him with surprise. Was he going to fight with her? No he had just said he doesn’t participate in battles. Is he offering her his short sword?

“This is Yuuto Karasu, Karasu Clan Heir. I request the Karasu Commander, (YN) Karasu, be given full autonomy of her power until my departure.”

Any bit of color (YN) had regained since getting treatment from her brother drained as he spoke. In an angry whisper she said his name through clenched teeth. “Yuuto…”

Then there was nothing but the pounding on the barrier and the falling rain. As the seconds passed by (YN)’s eyes grew round with shock until a stern look crossed her face. Something must have happened over their communication system. Before anyone could ask what was going on (YN) bowed in apology to Ieyasu and drove her sword into the tatami in the dring pool of her blood where she had been laying.

Her sword glowed a bright hot white, nothing like the sweet pale blue I had seen the night before. As it grew in intensity the air around her seemed to vibrate, when she finally became visible again a mischievous look and a wild smile had blossomed.

“Stop...you look creepy as hell…” Yuuto deadpanned

She laughed and cut through the tension that had been building in the room. Her eyes were still sharp but the rest of her features had softened to a more recognizable demeanor.

“Never once thought I’d find myself in a situation that warranted a full release of this things spiritual power.” She twisted the sword around menacingly. “But I appreciate the opportunity. I won't let you down.”

Heading for the door with a wink and a flourish, she turned back to us.

“You guys can come watch on the balcony...it won't take long and there’s no way any of them will be able to get past me now.” smirking she sauntered outside of the protection of her brother’s barrier.

Myself and the rest of the group rushed outside to follow her, stopping just shy of the railing on the veranda. Three soldiers jumped down from the roof only to be eliminated immediately. I hadn’t even seen her move.

“Yuuto...this is great and all...but not even remotely close to what I’d call a challenge.” She called out as a fourth one burst into smoke the second she parried.

“Well that’s good but you may want to call for backup. Dad just let me know you’ve got about fifty coming your way.”

There was a pause, then raucous laughter, as she doubled over in the grass. Defending herself from incoming attacks along the way.

“Well shit...guess I shouldn’t have asked for a challenge. Mom did always tell me to be careful what I wished for.”

“Would you shut up and call them here already?”

“This is the Karasu’s Talons. I am requesting backup from the officers of the first regiment. We have an estimated fifty incoming QA soldiers”

There was another pause and then the sky opened up. Lightning struck down on top of her and a bright light expanded outward all the way to the barrier. As it dissipated six figures could be made out besider her. They looked menacing, but not in the same way her assailants had appeared. How were six extra people going to help her? If she needed six extra swords why couldn’t it be us? I felt my anxiety bubbling, ready to burst when Yuuto made his way next to me.

“I can tell she means something more to you, I appreciate you getting her help earlier and I wanted to let you know you have nothing to worry about.”

My brow furrowed but I was unable to ask questions as he continued, turning my attention back to her battle as he spoke.

“I don’t understand it entirely, but something about the blessed weapons we have lets us fight these things. Our abilities are...restricted...to force us to work as a team, however, that can cause problems in situations like this. Kanna is our strategist, her brain is alway running looking for a way out, while she is still able to plan it doesn’t come as quickly and she’s at greater risk of injury than when she’s with (YN), our commander. Who, while she doesn’t plan out the strikes, she leads and trains our army. Every officer summoned is one of her highly trained fighters from the first division.”

He turned his gaze back to me, dark eyes shining.

“(YN) is undefeated in the clan, save her teacher who now refuses all chances at a rematch. She is our most reliable fighter. Without her sister she still fights with considerable strength...but nowhere near what she is capable of. While I don’t have the same type of blade it still holds power in the group. So while it wouldn’t make a difference to her fighting ability my being here should give her a little more energy, than if she was just by herself.”

Pausing for breath, and I assume to make sure I was still following he looked my way before going on.

“I assume something happened in the past to have these power checks put into place, though I’m not quite sure what. Regardless the previous crow and talons, the current head, the current crow and talons and the heir, are all able to cast votes to give someone ‘autonomy’ or full reign of the powers for a limited period of time in a pinch.” He pointed back toward his sister.

“Earlier they consented in granting her full power. She is exceptionally lethal and while she doesn’t need to call on her army to win this battle, she needed to if she didn’t want to pass out when she relinquished control.”

As I looked back out into the garden I found myself memorizing their fighting patterns. The formations were perfect, designed to be effective and deadly. He had called her ‘The Talons’, and after seeing her fight I can understand why. When her blade came down into her target she reminded me of Kohaku, Nobunaga’s hawk, ripping through prey. Sharp and merciless yet graceful and beautiful. It was the perfect way to describe her. The more I watched the more enthralled I became. Maybe we could use something similar in our own battles. She was magnificent. Remembering her brother said her sister was her strategist...I wondered if I could offer assistance in Kanna’s absence. It felt better than having (YN) simply report to me, I wanted to be useful to her. I needed to be useful to her.

He must have thought I looked pensive because he offered words meant to comfort, and while I was no longer concerned about this battle they settled somewhere deep in my soul.

“But she lives for battles like this...the woman is made of something else entirely. Our Dad once said it had to be chaos and lightning. It’s in her bones and blood.”

I continued to watch in awe, gathering useful information, compiling strategies for her. There was no denying she was beautiful and deadly, a combination I had never seen mix so well. A sword style all warlords hoped and strived for, a precarious balance and only Kenshin Uesugi came close to achieving.

Before I knew it the battle had ended and Yuuto crossed the garden space, now littered with bits and pieces of armor that had failed to evaporate with their assailant. He handed bandages to (YN), who was having a lively conversation with her vassals, before bowing to us and disappearing in a blinding flash of light with the officers that had come to assist.

Sheathing her blade she slowly made her way back to the balcony. She looked tired but there was still a fire in her eyes. Most were silent, content just watching, but Mitsuhide, forever the tease, offered a remark as bait. Probably to check her mood and general consciousness since she did look a little wobbly now.

“I wasn’t aware our young princess had that much power. Who knew she could take out fifty men with just six soldiers of her own.”

Then she smiled the same mischievous grin from before, and with a sickly sweet voice, what she said next sent a chill down my spine.

“There’s a reason a group of crows is called a murder.”

…

[YN]

The energy was racing in and around you. It was everything you remembered and more. It didn’t matter how creepy your brother though your smile was you felt absolutely amazing. Turning your blade in your hand, getting used to the feeling of it, the lightning resonating in your bones. Everything felt lighter, you were sure you could jump from the garden to the roof if you wanted but that was a test for another day.

The second you stepped off the veranda, three jumped at you from the roof. You spun around so fast you made yourself dizzy, slicing clean through each one in the process. You felt more than amazing. You were buzzing with life and the new found chaos strengthening your bones, stemming from the warm glow coming off your sword. Another came at you, swinging your blade to parry, cut blowing right through the soldiers sword driving deep into its chest. A gust of wind came off your swing as the ogre disappeared into twisting gray fog, as you felt your hair whip around your face.

You felt strong, forgotten power flowing through you, it was almost a shame they weren’t more of a challenge. Before disposing of that last grunt you had managed to complain to your brother, who let you know a problem had arisen.

“Well shit...guess I shouldn’t have asked for a challenge. Mom did always tell me to be careful what I wished for.”

You knew who you wanted when you called for the officers of the first regiment, and you knew they had to be chomping at the bit to get some action by now. Sure enough, as they descended in a burst of lightening your three best swordsmen, two archers, and naginata wielder stood in formation three poised for attack.

Hisame and Mari, your two archers took to the trees for better vantage points to provide appropriate cover while simultaneously waiting for their perfect shot.

Tsubaki and Shiro, wielded tachi and stood on the outside of our formation, since their blades were longer they had a bit more reach, which was helpful for providing wide coverage. They were backed up by Hinata who took arms with his Naginata.

Mizuko was your top and final general to appear, offering a katana she filled in for Kanna as you paired off for close combat situations.

Falling into line with your comrades the rest of the battle felt like a well practiced dance. Smooth and easy, the QA soldiers offering little resistance. With everyone’s help fifty soldiers had felt like five.

“Nice work everyone, we cleaned them up nicely!”

“Anytime Captain! Do see to it that you take better care of yourself thought. You gave everyone a bit of a fright last night when you stopped responding.” Hisame leveled with you.

“I got it. I’ll be as careful as I can be.” you replied

“That’s not very promising...at least knowing you.” Shiro laughed lifting an eyebrow as he clapped a hand over your shoulder.

You brother had made his way across the garden and was preparing to take everyone back with him. Stopping just shy of you he gathered your comrades around him.

“Be safe...Please.” He smiled with one final plea before jumping back home.

As the light from the portal disappeared so did your high. Gods is that what you felt like before he arrived? No, it had to have been worse before you were given the blood. Everything ached and you wanted nothing more than to soak in a warm bath, drink some tea, and sleep on a heating pad for the next 48 hours until Kanna arrived.

You had finally reached the veranda everyone had gathered on. You noticed Masamune and Nobunaga’s eyes were shining with pride. Hideyoshi and Ieyasu were wearing the most sour expressions you’d ever seen, probably because of all the trouble you had caused tonight. You would have to do something to make it up to them. Mitsunari looked concerned and like he wanted to say something though it never made it out. Mitsuhide had been looking at you with the most infuriating, shit-eating grin, you had ever seen.

Though his snide remark was laced with questions, presumably to gauge how you were feeling, even if it was the only way he knew how, you still didn't want to drag this out. You were tired. Thinking of the best way to stop the conversation quickly you decided a mild scare tactic should do the trick.

“There’s a reason a group of crows is called a murder.” You wished you had a camera because the looks on their faces were priceless. If you didn’t feel like absolute garbage maybe you would have laughed.

Instead you walked past everyone and bowed before Nobunaga. “When would you like my report?”

“I do not need one.” you looked up at him confused “Mitsunari informed me over the events leading to our being here this evening and I witness the rest. It would be redundant to make you report it again. You are dismissed for the night.”

With that everyone left, what you had since figured out was Ieyasu’s manor. The walk back was slow and painful but Mitsunari stayed close to make sure you got back alright offering his arm whenever you started to wobble. By the time you finally arrived to your room faint light could be seen peeking out over the horizon. You opened the door with great effort and trudged into you room. By now the candles had all melted down and pools of wax were gathered in their stead. Guess you’d clean that up in the morning. The tea set from earlier remained untouched, and the book Mitsunari had been reading remained open on the floor where it had been dropped.

“It’s not a long walk back but I appreciate you seeing me home. I should let you go though since you have to make for Hideyoshi’s manor.”

As you looked up you met searing amethyst eyes, a look that was all consuming, there was a tenderness there you recognized, even though you couldn’t deny he looked upset. When you didn’t back away he closed the gap between you shutting the door behind him.

“If you would allow it, I would like to stay here.”

The hand that had been on your cheek was now cradling your head, long elegant fingers working your scalp gently, undoing your hair that had been tied tight in a ponytail. His free arm wrapped around your shoulder closing you in a comforting embrace. Fighting the urge to fall completely into his arms you gave a half-hearted response.

“I promise I’ll send someone to get you if I need help. I would hate to make you take care of me. You are by no means obligated to do anything else tonight”

You wanted nothing more than to accept his offer and bury yourself in his gentle and sure arms. They were currently offering you every bit of warmth you had craved the entire walk back from Ieyasu’s, but it wasn’t fair to make him look after you just because you were placed under him. Even if literally being under him was separately enticing...but that was a whole other issue for a different day.

“It is not out of obligation I request to stay.” He carefully pulled your head to his chest, resting his cheek on you. His even breaths tickling your ear were in direct contrast with the now rapid beating of his heart.

You felt the blood run all the way to your ears. He had always been incredibly sweet to you. Constantly sticking his neck out for you, making sure you had everything you needed, entertaining conversation, and now he had probably saved your life. All of this and he never really asked for anything in return. You had never stopped to think about why you had such unshakable faith in Mitsunari, you trusted him with your life the same why you trusted your siblings but that’s not to say you saw him as a brother. You were slowly realizing now how much you were fighting not just for your mission, but to keep him and the people he holds dear safe; Love. That feeling finally settled in and you didn’t know how to respond.

“Please…” his soft whisper broke through your rapidly derailing train of thought “don’t make me leave tonight.”

And you couldn’t all you could do was hum and nod. Wrapping him in an embrace of your own.

…

[Mitsunari]

The longer we walked the more exhausted she looked. She had refused to let anyone carry her at least four times now, but would hold onto my arm when she was unsteady, and now we had finally made it to her door.

“It’s not a long walk back but I appreciate you seeing me home. I should let you go though since you have to make for Hideyoshi’s manor.”

Even though I understood it to be consideration for myself, no matter how steady she had appeared, I couldn’t find it within my power to leave. Not that I wanted her to entertain me, she needed rest and I wanted no part in keeping her awake any longer...I just didn’t want to leave. She turned to me and I was happy to see her lovely amber eyes were still burning, though the rest of her features were soft, they were so warm it felt like something inside of me might melt. She was so enchanting I hadn’t even realized I was reaching for her until I had her hair undone, falling around her, the beautiful silk strands resting against my hand. (YN) spoke up and brought me out of my trance and I realized she thought I had stayed with her out of a sense of duty.

“It is not out of obligation I request to stay.” I pulled her in close to me, careful not to hold her too tight. The last thing I wanted was to aggravate her wounds. She didn’t stop me, instead (YN) leaned into my embrace as her body seemed to warm with mine. She seemed to be thinking, as her arms hovered in the air, unsure of what to do. There was a long painful silence, taking my chance I petitioned again hoping I wouldn’t be pushed away.

“Please, don’t make me leave tonight.”

I heard her suck in a breath through her teeth and no longer showing any hesitation she hummed languidly and returned my embrace, locking me in her arms, nodding in silent approval.

I wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon.

For the second day in a row, I woke up in a panic concerned by the absence of her warmth beside me. How does she sneak out of here so easily? This time I shot up out of her futon but she wasn’t sitting at her desk and her soft muttering alluded me. Tying my disheveled robes to be slightly more presentable I dashed for the door only to almost crash into (YN). Catching the tray she had been holding she winced but giggled as she looked me over.

“Nice hair. Up for some tea? I snuck into the kitchen.” she said with a mischievous smile

She was dressed the same as she had been yesterday morning. Soft gray hakama and a lace wrap to cover her chest. The only differences were that she wore my haori and her abdomen was wrapped diligently with fresh bandages. I was stuck on my haori hanging off her shoulders awkwardly, something about it and the goofy smile she had was enough to make my heart flutter.

“How is your stomach.” Again without thinking my fingers had found there way to the new wrap tracing where she had been cut. This was becoming a bad habit, but she didn’t pull away from me.

“It’s better thanks, I wasn’t able to tie an Obi...hurt to much. I borrowed your haori, I hope you don’t mind.”

“Not at all. Use it as long as you like.” And then she smiled and it was so bright it could have outshone every star in the sky last night.

Last night had been pandemonium but in the center of it was her. Something steady and bright in the buzz of it all. There was something wonderful about the normalcy of the situation, I had grown to enjoy the tea and snacks she brought me while I was reading, but this moment felt special, almost separated from the rest of reality.

“Did you sleep alright? I hope I didn’t make your arm numb laying on it.” She giggled again setting the tray of food and tea down. Her comment sparked my memory from the night before, her curled up in front of me, soft black tresses splayed underneath her head and across the arm she was laying on. With practiced motions she sat across me and prepared the tea passing out bowls and chopsticks so we could eat while it was steeping.

“Mitsunari. You okay over there? I guess I should have asked if you wanted food. I’m sorry if this was presumptuous of me.”

“Ah I’m sorry I was just a bit distracted. Thank you for the food.”

Breakfast tasted better than usual and the casual conversation eased the storm that had settle in my heart. The routine almost made me forget exactly what she was here to do. Almost. Our peace was broken with a bashful knock on the door, protectiveness flared in my chest, she was very exposed. I stood and cracked the door placing myself between her and the maids line of site but that didn’t stop her. She place a hand on the small of my back heat blooming where she touched as she leaned around me poking her head out the door.

“Hey ladies, what can I do you for?”

“We brought by the ingredients you asked for.”

Her face lit up “You guys are the best!”

“Anything for your Lady (YN).”

…

[YN]

Breakfast was pleasant and the easy conversation helped fend off the blush threatening to consume your features. Not only had you woken up tucked perfectly into Mitsunari, when you came back to your room he was standing in your door, hair a beautiful silver mess, robes hanging half off, broad shoulders exposed. You caught the way his eyes raked over you, taking you in, an emotion you couldn’t quiet place and a deep hyacinth flashed in his eyes before he masked it and they fell into the familiar amethyst you were accustomed to.

You suppress the urge to reach out and run your fingers through his feathered locks, down over his cheeks across his beauty mark and down his broad shoulders by giggling awkwardly and trying to start a conversation. Before you could move he reached out gently tracing over the fresh bandage where the sword had cut you last night.

“His is your stomach?”

It’s better thanks, I wasn’t able to tie an Obi.” You paused remembering the discomfort you had experienced trying to dress yourself in a traditional kimono this morning to get food. “hurt to much. I borrowed your haori, I hope you don’t mind.”

He smiled gently and it made you heart race, you could feel color creeping up your cheeks but you were happy he was letting you use his haori. It smelled just like him and though it was definitely a bit big the extra fabric wrapped you up filling you with the same sense of security he always brought with him.

You were setting out the dishes when you realized he hadn’t really responded to any question other than the one regarding his haori. Maybe you should have asked if he was hungry before grabbing the tea and breakfast.

“Mitsunari. You okay over there? I guess I should have asked if you wanted food. I’m sorry if this was presumptuous of me.”

That seemed to get his attention, just as you had finally gotten him out of his head and he seemed less on edge, there was a soft knock on the door. Before you could get up Mitsunari ran over placing himself between whoever was visiting and yourself. That’s when you realized you were minimally clothed and sauntering around the room in his haori while he was standing at the door with half his sleeping robe hanging off. He was trying to protect your dignity even though it was way more clothes than you wore on a normal off day in the citadel, but if a retainer saw this scene people would talk...not that you minded something like that floating around about you and Mitsunari, you couldn’t deny that you had definitely dreamed about any rumor this scene would cause as is.

You heard a gasp and faint giggling and knew it was your fan club...nope nope nope, not ok with them seeing hot and sleepy Mitsunari. Jumping up you placed a hand on the small of his back possessively, poking your head out next to him. As it turns out they had found the honey and sugar you asked for earlier and wanted to bring it to you.

You started mixing it into the tea then began pouring for the two of you to enjoy. When you placed his cup down in front of him he looked puzzled.

“You look confused. Anything I can help you with?”

“The other night at our war counsel Mitsuhide brought up that the maids had been following you around and fawning. He asked me why, and at the time I hadn’t noticed so I couldn’t even imagine an answer...but after seeming that, I’m quite curious myself.”

You laughed a good natured, full belly laugh. While it hurt just a touch more than normal it felt so so good.

“Do you remember the night we wrapped my arm?”

“Yes.” He blushed

“I was out shopping when I saw a group of them get attacked by the QA. They’ve been like that ever since.”

“I do remember six of them sopping wet as I passed them in the hall. It’s how I knew to look in your room.”

“Word travels fast around here if you’re wondering why all the female staff follow me around now.”

There wasn’t even a knock before your door slid open hitting the end of the track with a thunk.

“Well, well, well, what do we have here?”

…

[Mitsunari]

The last people I wanted to see at her door were now openly staring at this misunderstanding. Not that I minded if they thought she was with me...it would keep at least three of them from trying something. Mitsuhide opened his mouth “Well, well, well, what do we have here?”but it was (YN)’s response that made me choke on my tea.

“Breakfast...why, what’s it look like?”

They just stared back at her, processing.

“Are you just going to stand there or was there something you needed?”

Nobunaga chuckled before Masamune answered her.

“Neither of you showed up for the morning war counsel and when Hideyoshi informed us Mitsunari hadn’t returned last night we thought something might have been wrong with you.”

“That’s my bad, he looked like he needed sleep so I didn’t want to wake him.”

“That still doesn’t explain what’s going on right now.” Hideyoshi responded, worry showing on his face.

“Uh...breakfast. He brought me home, we fell asleep, I woke up, got breakfast, he woke up. So now...we’re eating breakfast. Didn’t think you wanted me walking around the castle scantily clad so I just stayed here. And seriously...just come in, you don’t need to creep outside the door like that.”

Ieyasu pinched the bridge of his nose “That’s not what we meant...we understand what this is...I believe the question was aimed more at why you’re wearing Mitsunari’s haori…?”

And then the conversation descended into dissaray and nothing I could think of to say would have been enough to stop it. (YN) looked amused, clearly messing with the group. Mitsuhide and Nobunaga were the only ones able to resist the verbal bait.

“Should I not be?”

“I mean it’s not that you shouldn’t be, just that it may give the wrong impression.” Masamune stated and I bristled, sipping my tea to keep calm.

“And what would that impression be?”

“That you’re sleeping with Mitsunari.” Hideyoshi interjected

“But I did sleep with Mitsunari. He spent the night here.”

“That’s not what we mean lass.” Masamune sighed

“Then what did you mean?” she looked innocent enough but I could tell she was toying with them. Drink your tea and don’t make eye contact Mitsunari...don’t make eye contact.

“Nope, never mind. Stop.” Ieyasu chimed in, panicked

“Stop what?” She looked around eyes wide.

“How about you just give Mitsunari back his haori, that should clear up any misunderstandings.” Hideyoshi pleaded

“There isn’t really anything to misunderstand but if you insist.” and with that she stood next to me. Oh no. Before I could protest, she undid the haori from her waist as we made eye contact, a devilish smiled played on her lips then she winked. She knew what she was doing. Dropping the clothing in my lap the room went silent.

I knew from the looks on their faces they had full view of the artwork above her wrap, the beautiful tattoo that covered her alabaster skin mingling with scars from previous battles.

Hideyoshi and Ieyasu sputtered while Nobunaga and Mitsuhide remained silent.

“Shit lass.” Masamune sucked in through closed teeth. The only one to say anything.

“Don’t stare.” She smiled knowingly “it’s rude you know.”

She was being a good sport but I could tell all the prying eyes were starting to get to her. When nobody said anything I stood placing my haori back on her shoulders, covering a majority of her exposed skin, while shooting daggers at those in the doorway. When I did I brushed my fingers along the crook of her neck along her shoulders. Her skin was warmer than it had been last night, the memory of her collapsing into my arms fresh in my memory. I needed them to leave.

“She is unable to wear an Obi with her injury. Unless you don’t mind her walking around like this or in her armor today she will not be joining the war counsel.”

Nobunaga looked amused but nodded, a knowing smirk playing on his face.

“I agree. Please make sure she has everything she needs Mitsunari. Report any changes to me.”

“As you wish milord!”

After they left she dropped down in front of me, twisting a few flyaway strands into place.

“Can we talk? I think it’s time to DTR.”

Tagging @little-mini-me-world read away!

#ikesen #ikésen #ikemen sengoku #ikémen sengoku #ikesen mitsunari #cybird #fanfic #mitsunari x reader #my story #it took me too long to type this #why is it like 10 pages?#i got carried away again #thanks for sending help #i'm probably forgetting tags #ikemen sengoku: romances across time #leaving this here

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canyousevmyheavydirtysoul · 6 years

Text

You’re My Bodyguard, Not My Owner. (Chapter 1) (Brendon Urie x Reader)

Note: It’s back. Also, I hope you guys appreciate me, ‘cause I have a math test today, and I spent the entire weekend getting this fic ready instead of studying. You’re welcome.

On the surface, having a spy for a father might seem like the coolest thing in the world. And sure – at certain times, it could be. But there was so much more to it that no one would ever think about.

As a little girl, your parents chose to keep your father’s real occupation concealed from you, if just for the time being, in order to give you a somewhat normal life; they had no desire for you to get caught up in the cruelty of the hidden world.

They were wonderful parents, always going above and beyond to ensure that you were happy, and to give you as much of a typical upbringing as possible. Yet, the fleeing from town to town and city to city at seemingly random occasions in the dark of the night did nothing to aid their cause, and you grew up less normally than they would’ve liked.

It was hard for you to understand at the time – why you couldn’t have sleepovers or play dates every weekend like other children your age – but you never questioned them about it and soon enough, you had gotten used to not getting too attached to people. Or to places, for that matter.

It was only once you had hit sixteen that your father had enlightened you about everything. Your family had been living in a small, secluded town about an hour and a half outside Washington D.C. and everything in your lives seemed to be stable – the need to flee hadn’t arisen in over three years, you had made a wonderful group of friends, and your life was as close to normal as you were able to get.

The night you found out about your father’s real occupation was one you would never forget.

Chestertown, Maryland. Five years earlier.

It was just after dinner and the three of you were doing the dishes, the usual weekday routine. There wasn’t much conversation, just a bit of small talk, but as you packed away the last plate and hung up the dishcloth, your father said something that made your stomach do cartwheels.

“(Y/N), could you meet me in my office in five? There’s… something I’d like to talk to you about.”

His request caught you completely off guard, and you involuntarily let out a tiny gasp. You had never been in the office before. It was off limits to everyone except your father, so the fact that he was requesting your presence in that room was daunting, to say the least.

“Your-your office?” you spoke, checking to see if you heard properly.

“Mhm,” he nodded, drying his hands with a paper towel, “that okay?”

“Uh… yeah. Yeah, of course, dad.”

You must’ve looked and sounded absolutely terrified, because your father let out a laugh as he reached over to rub your shoulder and place a kiss on your forehead as reassurance.

“Don’t look so concerned, you’re not in trouble. I just… well, you’ll see. Five minutes,” he reminded as he backtracked out of the kitchen and made his way to his office.

After throwing on some pyjamas, you turned on your heel and headed out of your bedroom and down the glass staircase that was situated in the middle of the house, turning left into the west wing of the house when you reached the bottom.

Trudging slowly along the mostly unlit hallway, you stopped in front of the door to your father’s office. Your fingers slowly grasped the icy cold brass doorknob and you bit your lip nervously, hesitating slightly before turning it.

Upon entering the secluded room, your nostrils were immediately met with the smell of pine and the crisp sensation of air conditioning. The room was foreign territory, since you’d never been inside the office before, and your eyes scanned the spacious room intricately, taking in every inch of the place. You weren’t sure if you’d ever have the opportunity to be welcomed back, and you wanted to make sure you memorised every detail of its inside.

“Thought you might like it in here,” your father’s voice drew your attention away from the room and you gave him a sheepish smile, “I modelled it after one of your designs, actually,” he added, scanning over the room himself.

You furrowed your brows at him; you’d never designed anything in your life, let alone the interior of a room. Noticing your confusion, he cocked his head in the direction of the left wall where a framed portrait was hanging.

Interest piqued, you took rushed steps towards the picture, a big grin forming once you got a good look at it.

“Wow. I was such a terrific artist,” you remarked sarcastically as your eyes landed on the inscription heading the page.

My Future House. (Y/N) (Y/L/N)

“You actually did quite a commendable job,” your father argued, standing up from his desk and moving to join you, “I mean, look at how it turned out in real life,” he gestured around the room, which now that you had seen the picture, you realised was a mirror image of your ‘design’.

“Mm. It’s pretty.”

“Have a seat,” he instructed, shooing you to the dark brown leather sofa in the middle of the room and taking a seat in the armchair opposite you.

“I know you said that I’m not in trouble,” you started, lifting up your legs and tucking it underneath you, to the side, “but this scenario seems an awful lot like that time I got a talking to for cussing at that lady in the supermarket when I was six.”

The side of your father’s eyes crinkled and his lips twitched upwards into a half-smile as he leaned forward, elbows rested on his knees and fingers steepled just under his chin.

“I promise you it’s not a repeat of that incident. Unless you’ve been cursing at people while grocery shopping?”

“Not in the last month, no,” you replied, a hint of a smile on your face; you shared a chuckle. “So why did you call me here, dad?”

“Do you know what my job is?”

You pursed your lips while you contemplated your answer. “I know what you do for a living,” you answered, and his brows arched ever so slightly, “You’re a software developer; that’s how you make your money. As for what your job is – what you do as a profession – I have no idea.”

You earned a full smile from him this time. “Sometimes I forget how incredibly smart you are,” he muttered, more to himself than to you, “You’re right, snowflake. I make my money from developing software, but it’s not the career path I’m entirely skilled in. Which, obviously, you’ve noticed. You wanna hazard a guess as to what it is that I do?”

“Well, from what I can gather from everything that’s happened in our lives – the constant relocating, the secrecy, the lack of relationships with other people – my best guess is that you’re James Bond.”

A short chuckle escaped your lips and you expected the same reaction from your father but when it didn’t come, and he simply stared at you with a serious face, your face fell.

“Seriously?” you gaped, nearly falling off the couch out of shock.

He cocked his head to the side. “In a sense, yes.”

“What the fuck?” you exclaimed, widening your eyes and clamping a hand over your mouth as you realised your slip. “Uh… I mean, what the fudge?”

He chuckled and waved a dismissive hand. “Don’t worry, your mother had the same reaction. Although,” he looked up to the ceiling as if replaying a memory in his head; another chuckle came through his lips, “she kinda repeated it over and over and over and over.”

You giggled, resting your elbow on the couch’s armrest and placing your head in your hand. “Yup. Sounds like mom,” you agreed. “So wait… you’re…” you trailed off, not being able to find the correct words.

“I’m a spy, (Y/N).”

“Like James Bond?”

“No,” he shook his head before smirking at you, “I’m better.”

You laughed loudly, whether out of amusement or disbelief, you didn’t know.

“Let me explain…”

And then he told you everything. More specifically, that he was a spy that worked for Strategic Homeland Intervention Enforcement and Logistics Division – or as they were more commonly known as, SHIELD.

You’d also learned that he was among the top ranking SHIELD agents, and the leader of any and all missions connected to battling Hydra, a Nazi-descendant terrorist organisation, and SHIELD’s biggest adversary.

It was clear to you when he spoke that your father was tremendously passionate about his work, and that behind you and your mother, it was what mattered most to him.

You had to admit that his loyalty and dedication was admirable. It couldn’t have been easy to live a double life for nearly four decades, trying to give your wife and daughter the normal life they deserved while simultaneously protecting them and the rest of the world.

A part of you felt as if you should be angry with him for not letting you have the stereotypically ordinary life, but you knew that he did the best that he could. You were like your dad in essentially every way; you were practically his carbon copy. You had his mannerisms, his values, and most importantly, you had his mind-set. You knew that what your father was doing was for the greater good, and you knew that if you were in his shoes, you would’ve done the exact same thing.

“W-wow,” you exhaled heavily once he had finished explaining, “Dad, that’s… intense.”

“You don’t know the half of it, snowflake,” he murmured, sighing as he ran a hand through his thick head of hair.

He noticed that you were still furrowing your brows as you looked at him, and he smiled at you to try and ease your mind. Your dad had excellent genetics; he was pushing forty, yet he didn’t look a day over twenty-five. But when he smiled at you, he looked even younger – like a weight had been lifted off of his shoulders and rejuvenated him.

“I have something else for you,” he announced as he stood up and recovered a tiny blue box from the drawer of his desk.

You perked up as he drew nearer, eager to see what was inside. He carefully removed the lid and reached two fingers inside the box to lift out a beautiful necklace, one with a snowflake charm.

“I know that this doesn’t even remotely make up for what I’ve hidden from your for all these years but…” your dad lifted the necklace to place around your neck; you gathered your hair in your hand to give him better access, “take it as a promise. I promise that there will never be any secrets between us ever again. I love you, snowflake.”

Chestertown, Maryland. Present day.

Noticing the black SUV with tinted windows standing in the driveway where your father’s car would normally be, a wave of dread washed over you and your heart felt like it was sitting in your throat. You recognized the vehicle as one of SHIELD’s; the fact that one of them was currently parked in your parents’ driveway almost guaranteed that something awful had happened.

Entering through the front door, you could hear muffled voices coming from the living room. You shrugged off your coat and hung it up on one of the hooks in the entryway before following the sound of the voices.

Upon your entering the room, all three agents’ heads snapped towards you, the two who were sitting noticeably uneasy on the edge of the white leather sofa standing up.

“What’s going on? Where are my parents?” you questioned, your voice involuntarily coming out urgent and panicked.

“(Y/N), maybe you should sit down,” Agent Coulson spoke gently. Advancing towards you in an attempt to guide you to the sofa.

“No, I don’t want to sit,” you took a step back, voice becoming more and more unsteady, “Answer my question. Where are my parents?”

The next few minutes went by in a blur. As soon as Coulson started speaking, your head began to spin as your vision became blurry and you could feel your legs starting to give in, prompting you to lean against the doorframe for support. You felt sick to your stomach.

Letting out a gut-wrenching sob, you sunk to your knees as your heart shattered into a million pieces.

SHIELD HQ, Washington D.C.

SHIELD headquarters was infinitely bigger than you’d ever imagined. You felt irrelevant and tiny, curled up in Coulson’s glass-walled office. After receiving the news of your parents’ deaths the previous night, SHIELD thought it best if you were brought in so that they could monitor you while simultaneously provide you with protection.

Staring through the transparent material at everything yet nothing at all, your fingers toyed with the necklace you wore around your neck. You could hear your father’s voice in your head.

“I’ve had many great achievements in my life, (Y/N). But you are by far the best one.”

You hadn’t even noticed the stream of tears cascading down your cheeks until a rough, calloused hand held out a box of tissues.

“Now would be a good time to fill you in on everything. If you’re feeling up to it, that is.”

You sighed and stood up. “Might as well get it over with, no?”

“As Agent Coulson has already told you, your parents were murdered by a Hydra operative. His real name is unknown, but he’s known as ‘The Asset’,” The Director spoke with determination, though apprehensively.

You rearranged yourself in your chair; a wave of nausea washed over you upon hearing the words “parents” and “murdered”. The thought screwed with your mind completely.

“We know that your father was onto something big. So big, that there was a possibility that it could take down Hydra once and for all. Everyone knew that your father didn’t trust easily – in fact, there were few people who he trusted at all – so unsurprisingly, he didn’t share his intel with anyone.”

The Director stood up from his chair and walked around his desk to stand in front of you.

“Okay, well, you at least have a lead on this Asset guy, right?” you choked out, swallowing a lump that started to form in your throat.

“No, unfortunately not. He’s as evasive as ever.”

You nodded slowly, disappointment coursing through your body.

“Although, we do have an idea about who his next target might be.”

“Who?”

“You.”

“Me?” you questioned in disbelief. “Why would he want to kill me?”

“Because, (Y/N), you were one of the very few people your father trusted completely. It’s not unlikely that he’d have shared some information with you, whether you were aware of it or not.”

“My father wouldn’t have done that. Not if it put me in danger.”

“While it’s true that he would’ve done anything to ensure your safety, if he knew that Hydra would come after him, he would’ve taken precautions. He would’ve hidden his information somewhere safe. Somewhere no one would know to look unless they knew him as well as you did.”

Stunned into silence, you gripped your hair in disbelief. The Director kneeled so that he was eye-level with you and placed a protective, reassuring hand on both of your shoulders.

“No one will hurt you, (Y/N). My priority from now on is ensuring your safety. But I need you to think. Think long and hard. Think about everything your father has ever said to you and try and see if you can get any idea about what he was working on.”

“I’m sorry, Uncle Nick, but I can’t.”

He studied your face intently for a few seconds before nodding lightly.

“I understand, (Y/N). But if you happen to think of anything…”

“You’ll be the first person I come to.”

He smiled at you before standing up and striding towards his office door.

“Well then, there’s only one more thing before you go.”

The Director opened the door, and a man, presumably an agent, walked in. He entered the office and stood with his feet shoulder width apart, hands clamped firmly behind his back, like a Marine. You took in his appearance, and decided that it was highly probable that he’d had some form of military training. He certainly had the stature and aura for it.

He had dark hair, styled upwards in a quiff-like fashion. His jaw was taught and sharp, giving his face perfect structure. His cherry-red, plump lips were set tightly in a thick line, brown eyes gazing into yours in a soulful, almost intimidating way.

“(Y/N), this is your bodyguard for the next little while, Agent Brendon Urie.”

_______________________________________________________________________

Thank you for reading x

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@moosesmoose

@underscoredarcy

@aminasmells @converseskyline

#brendon urie #brendon urie x reader #bodyguard!brendon #bodyguard #patd #p!atd #panic at the disco #panic! at the disco #marvel #imagine #imagines #fanfic

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