#(in large part because i can move around to mediate the pain while working the floor

[utterlyinevitable]

pb let me *redact* Tobias challenge 🥲

not me turning your tobias thirst asks into a 3-part mini series 😂🙈

Pairing: Ethan x F!MC (Becca Lao) x Tobias Carrick Rating: Teen+ Summary: Ethan’s still pissed at Becca for her Tobias stint when he was in the Amazon. What happens when the narcissist joins the team? Trope: Angst; Broke Up; Ethan’s POV; Fighting; Jealousy

A/N: the toxin plot didn’t happen in this universe btw.

Part 1  |  Part 2

___________________________

Godly Sins: 3. Parting Wrath of Hera

That evening Tobias and Becca spoke late into the night about anything and everything. Well, everything that didn’t involve Ethan, June and hospital drama, nor their two brief wanton stints - truly getting to know one another and starting fresh.

As days and shifts and weekends rolled by, the sparkle they’ve shared began blooming into a friendship.

It was rather inevitable, really.

Two people who shared an indubitable attraction, forced to spend all their time together out of their boss’ sight - It was kismet.

Meanwhile, Ethan Ramsey had been ignoring them both for weeks outside of Diagnostic Team mandated functions - even then, interactions were brief and mediated by Harper. He’s been on edge since Tobias joined the team as Bloom’s nark, presumably. Or at least that’s what he told himself - convinced himself that nothing good could come from whatever this was.

Oh, how things go horribly, horribly sour.

Becca was sitting in the office waiting for the daily Diagnostics Team meeting to start, busying herself by scrolling through social media over eleven times in the last five minutes.

Steps away, Ethan sat at his desk, keeping a cold shoulder and looking over files he purposely keeps on his desk for awkward times just as these. The air between them stiff and stale, as heavy as it was months ago when they had their falling out. They should have acclimated to the unrelenting suffocation of being left alone together - the third shadow accompanying whatever was left of them.

But they hadn’t. Never really could once she realized Ethan would never forgive her for forming a survivalistic attachment to his biggest adversary. Rebecca Lao wasn’t going to let a man’s misplaced pride stifle her. So, she refuses to stroke his ego by hiding - even through the rancor of being alone with him, and the twangs that erupt when they’re this close. She’s not going to idly hover outside, biding time until Harper or Tobias or Naveen or a nurse, or anyone else enters the office first. She’ll sit and she’ll wait for work to begin.

And Ethan Ramsey will sit at his desk and pretend she’s not there. He’ll pretend he can’t smell her perfume, or hear the tapping of her nails to her phone or the heel to the floor as her leg jitters. He’ll pretend she’s nothing more than a ghost of the past lingering in the cornerstone of his conscious, like all the others. He’ll convince himself he’s angled away from her just enough to keep a peripheral eye on the door in case there’s an emergency, even if that line of vision is really just of her.

If Tobias noticed Ethan staring blankly ahead, he didn’t dare attempt to feign interest. The olive-skinned addition sauntered straight over to Becca, hands full and a thin, satisfied smile at home on his lips.

He set down a large coffee and sandwich wrapped in white paper in front of her. Ethan could just about read the stickered logo from where he sat. But he could see the undoubtable way Becca’s eyes lit up.  

“Is this from...”

“The one and only,” Tobias had a cheeky grin - a kind of unbridled simper.

“That was fast.”

“Said I’d buy you breakfast, and I did.” He pulled out the chair closest to her and sat with his signature nonchalant grace. “Did you think I’m not a man of my word?” His hand was waving, palm up, towards the small feast before her.

“More like a flubber.”

Becca’s playful tone matched his in the most complimentary way.

Ethan caught the shining smile they shared - one that could only indicate an inside joke. One that could only mean they were spending too much time together. One that could only mean they were getting along.

Then Tobias plucked a strip of bacon off her sandwich.

And that was when something snapped in Dr. Ramsey.

They weren’t meant to be comfortable. They’re meant to suffer. That was the whole point of constantly pairing them together. These two flawed and moralless people were meant to be a punishment. Just for a while. Just until...

They made a house out of crushed stones.

They flipped the script on how this was meant to play out, and Ethan vehemently resented them for it.

As soon as Harper entered the office, Ethan bolted to his feet and rattled through the meeting. Swift, succinct and blinded by the need to be alone. Alone to plot what comes next.

He was gruffer with them for the rest of the day, and this time they noticed. The scorn seeped through Ethan’s characteristic distain like nuclear waste. Neither Becca or Tobias were guilty of whatever Ethan was holding them accountable for this time - a scapegoat for his repressed feelings. Then why did Becca feel guilty? She did nothing wrong - then or now. This is a natural progression to the seeds he sowed by banishing them.

Ethan will just have to live with the consequences.  

***

The consequences came two weeks later. Powerful and damning and freezing Ethan in place, right in the middle of his office. Right in front of them. 

Tobias and Becca were perched on the diagnostics’ couch. Becca’s hand is in his and he’s rubbing gentle circles of adoration to the soft skin. He didn’t stop his ministrations as the air around them, once a glorious heated serenity, now turned icy. The chill wafting through with the large presence of their past.

“I don’t want to know,” he grumbles as he pulls himself out of his stupor and storms towards his desk.

The words of her off-handed response were as hard as a lingering look into Medusa’s eyes. “Yes you do, Ethan. So ask.”

The contempt. The exasperation. The overall vile irksome in her tone… It was baiting him. She was baiting him to lose his temper. To acknowledge it all. Ethan didn’t mean to say his inner thoughts out loud, didn’t mean to revert on the divine separation he’s put between them all. And he certainly didn’t mean for her to mistake this moment as an olive branch. However decrepit it is. 

Ethan didn’t ask. Just shakes his head and tries to fall back into his ignorance. 

He hears the creak of the couch as the pair stand up and the shuffling of two people moving as one. Ethan’s trying so hard not to watch them - trying not to assess their every move and read too much into it. The pair move towards the door when he speaks -

An authoritative statement pegged directly at her. Eyes devoid of feeling, blue irises creeping down the Marianas trench.

“It is unethical to be involved with a colleague.”

Ethan Ramsey was foolish. Especially so to believe he could have the last word - the last victory of battle in the war he started. For Rebecca spun around with such purpose, the skirt of her dress catching on the wind. Her hands at her sides balling, sharp nails grazing palms.

A rueful snort escapes her, “Thought it was only unethical if there’s a power imbalance?”

She had him there. With the forced team democracy Tobias wasn’t technically a superior. Never mind that they aren’t together. Not really.

If he was a better man, Tobias would intervene and set the record straight. He’d position himself in the five feet between these two Edenbrook legacies instead of behind her. Watching. Decoding every tell tale in the tableau.

The way they were glaring at one another, well... The suspicion that floated as his reasoning to send the basket all those months ago was more than confirmed. And Tobias Carrick just realized what he’s just gotten himself into.

“There will be no fraternizing within my team,” Ethan’s voice strained to keep calm. Tried not to bellow the rule he’s kept in place when it comes to Rebecca Lao. His ears beginning to redden and the vein of his neck protruding. 

Becca huffed a dry laugh, folded her arms across her chest and looked away. Towards Tobias.

In a few seconds many things happened. Becca’s eyes locked on Tobias, shooting him a look that could only mean one thing. Tobias smiled just for her. Ethan’s heart shattered. And Becca turned back to Ethan.

Her once copper eyes now almost entirely black. “Define fraternizing.”

That had Ethan sputtering and Tobias’ sly smile broadening.

“Because friendship is one thing,” she continued. “Sexual intercourse, another.”

That got a rise out of both men for very different reasons.

“Either way, the nature of my relationship with Tobias is none of your concern.”

They’re staring one another down. His sapphire eyes darker than she’s ever seen - all the hurt they’ve caused one another swirling between. Becca can feel the regret in the tension of his shoulders and the stiffness of his jaw. But for what, she doesn’t know - doesn’t want to. The longer she stands here, looking at him for the first time in months, she fears she’ll see every facet of pain she’s caused, and every reason to back down. And that’s too much to bear. Even after it all there’s still a part of her that loves him, always will. 

She’s strong as stone before him, refusing to waver.

Tobias itches to say something, anything. Something that wouldn’t just cut through the tension... 

“If it makes you feel better we’ll disclose to HR.”

Ethan’s neck could have snapped with the force of the swiftness as his head whipped towards his rival. Eyes narrowed and sizing Tobias up - decoding every subtext of the phrase. Every little bit of their unknown closeness. 

With his steely gaze stuck on Tobias, Becca found the strength to pull away. Turned her back on Ethan and began walking out - not a single glance thrown back over her shoulder for either man. Tobias less than half a step behind her. Leaving Ethan with one final look. 

As Ethan watched them walk out, he deflates. A knife stabbed straight to the heart he wasn’t sure he still had. Red blood that beat because of her. 

For her. 

Still.

***BONUS POV***

As soon as they were out of earshot, down the corridor and away from any lingering ears, Tobias spoke; 

“Ever going to tell me what happened between you and Ramsey?”

“A mistake, apparently.”

He squeezed her hand and that’s all that was said on the subject.      

______________________

@choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

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#open heart #open heart fanfic #choices open heart #ethan ramsey #ethan x mc #ethan ramsey x mc #tobias carrick #tobias x mc

[my-writings-and-musings]

Could you perphaps do hc for Blitzwings reaction to his tiiny human S/O being hurt because the Autobots accidentally collapsed something on them in a fight because they didn't know they were there

I'm not quite as knowledgeable on TFA but I did a crash course and rewatched some of my favorite bits so I hope this fits what you had in mind!

·The size of all earth life respective to Cybertronians means that, even when absolute care is maintained by all, the odds of a nearby human staying safe are far from optimal when bots fight. This is a reality Blitzwing has had to consider carefully since bringing you into his life. Generally his solution has been to keep you as far away from his "work" as physically possible, but unfortunately enough for him, it occasionally tracks him to you. All he can do when that happens one day is insist you take cover in a nearby abandoned building while he goes on the attack. You heed him without question despite your worry for his safety, knowing that he tends to fight less effectively when stressed due to his personalities clashing, and also because his stories about "Autobots" paint a very brutal picture...

·The Autobots outnumber him as they move in, their goal being to drive him away from what they presume to be a human endangering mission, but it's quite obvious who has the advantage once things get started. You can soon hear him holding his own even from your little hiding spot, the roar of battle shaking the very ground beneath your feet, and a thick accent returning combat banter with ease. The Autobots may just be trying to guide the triple changer outside of civilization, but they still end up being driven back themselves quite swiftly, though they of course are unaware it's because he won't be leaving while you are in cover. He's hardly reveling in victory while holding his ground, as frankly he just wants to get this over with and return to you, for what was supposed to be an enjoyable day in this deserted area of the city... His Hothead self boils in rage at having lost precious time, which results in him focusing everything on driving the meddlesome Autobots into retreat as aggressively as possible. You're more than worth letting enemies get away just this once, but he fully intends on leaving them with a few scars for the trouble.

·The strategy appears to work, at least from your perspective, in that their responding attacks start to become more focused on distraction than corralling. He's told you enough about combat for you to recognize suppressive fire as the typical tactic of those seeking to retreat, and you find yourself sighing in relief from your crawlspace, hearing the blaster fire grow less frequent with every passing second. Being more or less ambivalent to the Autobots means that just seeing them leave is the ideal ending for you. Blitzwing gladly notes their impending escape with a touch of pride at having saved his tiny partner, ignoring that the Autobots are probably only giving up so easily because they've come to the baffling and somewhat accurate conclusion he's not here for anything malicious. There's scattered talk of establishing a perimeter to keep him from trying anything where humans actually live, but it's fading quickly as the team prepares an obvious final retreat.

·Blitzwing so delighted to be saving you that he'll smoothly alternate personalities to let them have a turn at the feeling, or at least, what each considers to be the feeling of victory. The thought of being your savior is appealing to all of them if he's quite honest, and admittedly he can't wait to gloat on his rescue to you in person. Unfortunately, his happiness is cut short when the Autobots just so happen to include the building you're shielding yourself within amongst their final shots, unintentionally causing dilapidated supports to crumble under the gunfire they only unleashed to distract. You don't have time to run before things collapse all around you, but you do manage to catch a glimpse of his expression before everything goes dark, and the sight of his hand reaching in your direction is the last thing you see... His concern for the battle ceases in that instant. Your tiny body, so fragile and soft he'd teased you for your lack of armor every time he'd held you, was now beneath countless tons of rubble he might never clear away in time... if there was still any time.

·Confused Autobots are left gaping as he turns tail to start digging into the remains of the building in a frenzy. His personalities start to fight for control, and for those listening he becomes and endless loop of arguments with himself while digging for what can't actually be a human, right? Because it sounds like he mentioned the word human but that must be a mistake, certainly? But if there's even a chance... Programming to fight Decepticons clashes with oaths to protect organic life, and Optimus is forced to act and offer assistance to the panicked con, an offer that is initially met with threats before his desperation results in him caving to the reassurance that any human within is their responsibility to rescue. Only his love for you could lead to him accepting help from Autobots, but he's still much too worried to feel very self conscious, because each minute is far too precious to waste.

·You aren't entirely aware of your own survival. Though you can hear heavy movement from the outside of your little crawlspace, battered and barely conscious as you are, only the faintest hint of a shout heavily colored with a familiar accent gives you hope help is near. Servos capable of warping steel overturn literal tons of rubble with each swipe in his desperate hazes, resulting in boulders of debris flying in the wake of an impossibly determined Decepticon. The Autobot's calls for strategy and teamwork are only met with silence or threats; if the human in this rubble can't be recovered, then he'll make certain their body isn't alone. He ignores their resulting debate with Optimus over whether or not to continue assisting. All that matters is you, his unexpected treasure amongst the cold chaos, and his absolute refusal to lose you while there's still a flicker of his spark in existence.

·Light strikes your eyes without much warning as the rubble above you shifts, forcing you to flinch in your tiny space and cough as the dust irritates your lungs, which in accordance with your current luck sends a pang through probably broken ribs. The only silver lining to it all is that your noises create an immediate reaction up above. Increasingly clearer voices come as the window of light grows and boulders of debris trapping you in are removed, spurring you to cover your eyes as the final hunk of mortar is removed and you're blessed with a rush of cool, fresh air as the sunshine streams in. To your incredible surprise the gruff voice that speaks first to comfort you is not one you know. There's hardly time for your dizzy head to wrap itself around the phenomenon before large but gentle hands reach down to skillfully pluck you free, but the relief of being rescued doesn't last long, and trouble is brewing even before you discern the team of surprised and worried faces circling you as the Autobots.

·You're in the hands of the Autobot medic when Blitzwing sees you've been pulled, injured but alive, from the collapsed building. His joy at seeing you breathing is matched only by his terror to see you in the hands of his enemy, which quickly turns into far more usable rage as he jumps back into rescuing you from the threat that started everything. Shouts to unhand you are his only warning before a charge, one that's quickly called as a bluff when he refuses to risk your safety and skids to a halt before his enemies. The same medic holding you carefully in his hands stares down the much larger triple changer without a flinch, though the remaining bots encircle him protectively, warning him not to hurt this human in their ignorance. A standoff forms in the tense moments where Blitzwing borders on panic, alternating between threats and demands and barely disguised pleading for the return of the human whilst the bots remain steadfast in their assumed defense. It's only through sheer grumpy determination that the medic, who you learn in this moment is called "Ratchet", is able to briefly cut through the shouting and try to force an understanding, starting with the fact that if any of them care about human safety they'll let him give this one some much needed help. Unfortunately mutual distrust keeps both sides moments from launching a new attack.

·You're in no position to fight and free yourself from the ambulance turned robot holding you, but even as Blitzwing stands just ahead and looks to you with that helpless expression, you realize you don't think you need to. There's no aggression in the arms supporting your battered body, just the cautious concern of an expert. But you know your partner; he feels deeply, and once his emotions take off he struggles to listen to reason. Thus you decide to speak up and help Ratchet act as mediator, partly to be relieved of at least a bit of this pain, but also to get back to the mech who you know only wants to see you safe. The hardest part is keeping down a cough as you try to speak...

·Everything stops when the voice of a weak and battered human pipes up, silencing the still intermittent arguing and turning the attention of all gathered bots to them. Blitzwing drops the entirety of his aggressive stance once he focuses only on you, stepping closer only to be stopped by the rest of the still distrustful Autobots. Your gentle pleading for him to stay calm and hear them out stops a brawl from erupting once again, and also creates a wave of surprise amongst the Autobots; this Decepticon has befriended a human?! His Icy personality is colder and more in control than ever when he prompts the medic to lay out his plans for your care, followed by a warning that you will decide whether or not to accept it, and that if they attempt to force anything on you or take you away there will be no Autobots left on earth by the time he stops them.

·Ratchet is mercifully to the point when he explains that he merely wants to ensure there is no immediate danger from your injuries, and to provide some basic aid to tide you over until a human proffesional can assist. In the grip of rather considerable pain, you can't help but concede to the logic of the plan, looking to your partner so he can see the certainty in your eyes as you express your consent. Ever true to his word regarding you, the triple changer nods his own assent, but insists he will be by your side through it all. Ratchet is able to locate a more sheltered location nearby, and despite the complaints of his fellows agrees to render aid in private, with only his patient and the Decepticon in question to assist him. The distrust crackling through the air makes it quite difficult for you to be relieved at the prospect of medical attention.

·Blitzwing is there for you at every moment, letting your tiny hand squeeze his large servo as the medic patches you up, his dexterity surprising you almost as much as the human medical kit he carries "for the sake of a different human that frequently gets herself hurt". Every whimper of pain from you makes the Decepticon growl through his whispered comforts to you, and by the time the medic has the immediate damage bandaged and secure each of Blitzwing's three personalities has had a turn threatening the old medic. Ratchet doesn't even seem to mind as he strongly encourages you to head for a hospital while he finishes putting away his supplies. The rest of the Autobots leave with a tense and awkward parting (as well as a few murmured apologies) that includes a promise that this incident may change things for Blitzwing, should he be so inclined... An Icy expression only bids them farewell, and when the two of you are alone he finally holds you close, whispering a thousand apologies for failing to protect you from his war. Though you hardly feel prepared to understand a several million year conflict, you embrace him in return, able to take a moment to just appreciate being back with your love. The moment only ends when he, somewhat bashfully, asks what a hospital is and if you could more effectively be transported there via tank or jet?

#transformers #tfa #transformers animated #blitzwing #blitzwing x reader #maccadam #tf #ratchet #my writing #my asks #requests #anon #human reader #self insert

[miss-kittys-magical-library]

The Joan Jett Quartet

Part 3: Cherrybomb (Klaus x Fem!Reader)

Warnings: NC-17 FILTHY! Light bondage, oral (fem receiving), pegging, use of sex toys, language, consensual rough sex, voyeurism

A/N: It had been so long since you and Klaus played your dirty little game of give and take. And The Prophet was yours for the taking. 

Part 1  Part 2

Dedicated, as always, with love to my most fatastic ride or die @robertsheehanownsmyass And also @slutforrobbiebro and @frogs--are--bitches

You adjusted the straps and hoped what was inside your linen pants was concealed just enough. At least until you were ready.

You took a few hours getting used to this appendage that hung between your legs. It was in the way for most everything you participated in during the day. So you stood with your legs further apart, or sat that way as well. You tried desperately not to reach down and adjust yourself for fear others might figure it out.

Suddenly, Klaus was beside you as you looked out over the swimming pool. He loomed so large over the Children, but could be completely human with you. That scent of hibiscus, gin and hookah smoke filled your nostrils as he wrapped you up in his arms.

“Jill is worried about you, little chicken.” Klaus used that stupid name from the night he punished you for insubordination. A pet name, one of endearment. Yet it had been so long since the two of you played.

“I'm fine,” You weren't. This.. thing in your pants was annoying. You had grown into it at least.

“She said you were walking funny?” his voice lifted at the end. “I can't imagine why. You've not needed to be disciplined in a while” It was if he read your mind. “I’d like to think I'm being gentle.” His face got lost in your hair and took a deep breath.

Klaus was telling the truth. These days, or nights, or warm afternoons, you made more love than fucked. He became almost obsessed with looking at you. Wanting a connection with someone to the point where he wouldn't pull out until well after he came. He would beg to be inside of you a little longer. If only you knew why YOU were Klaus’s special choice.

You pushed into him a bit with the curve of your ass. Klaus became instantly hard. A smirk played on your lips knowing how much control you had of the situation so quickly.

“Oh you have been, but I know you have certain appetites. As lovely as it's been, I can totally see in your eyes that flash of ‘please punish me.’ Which is tempting because this ‘tantric, cum together, lemme go four hours before I get off’ shit you learned in India annoying. Mediate all you want, but if I got my hands around your throat and just,” you mimed strangling him. “You would explode right in the middle of your stupid breathing technique. Then I’d get some feeling back in my legs”

Klaus enveloped you. Instead of a lover’s embrace, he compressed your body as much as possible. The air rushed out of your lungs as he squeezed tight like a snake with a mouse. His strength always caught you by total surprise. One arm around your chest, the other your stomach as he held you vicelike. There was that power switch. He hated being bested.

“I know pain makes you wet too,” his voice snarled. His hand tried to grab your sex to prove a point, but he got a surprise instead. His entire hand enclosed around the shaft through the fabric of your clothes. “My what a nice cock you have.”

You reached a hand behind and dug your nails into his hard on. “I wish I could say the same for you.”

Klaus’s hold deflated but not his erection. You urged him to stroke the imitation between your legs like you were doing to his real one. Your palms moved in unison as your breath both began to hitch. He tugged when you did, your bodies moving in a strange dance on the stone terrace.

Klaus turned your head sideways so he could get his tongue far inside your mouth. Fighting and doing a dance with yours while you gained speed with your hand.

“I bet you’re not even that good at sucking dick,” you broke the kiss to toss the insult over your shoulder.

You spun around and fought to take the wheel back. You reached inside and sunk your claws into Klaus’s balls. The only way you could think of bringing him to his knees as he winced with pain. Yet somehow grew even more stiff as he knelt down before you.

“Is this what we look like from up here?” Your fingers began to ravel around the hair on the back of his head. You yanked it so he was made to look at you. “eager to please the prophet with our mouths full. They're always begging you to speak, but choking themselves on your dick.”

Klaus put his hands on your hips. One of them inched under your shirt. He drew your hips towards his face and kissed your stomach. You let out a sigh before he released the imitation cock you wore.

Klaus was tentative about the way he licked at it. Just the tip of his tongue at first, darting in and out over the head. Then he sucked on it, took more of the shaft in his mouth. His head began to bob down towards your pelvis and back. The way he swallowed it as much as he could while he held tight to your ass. He alternated between long licks up the side and consuming it whole.

“It's a fucking shame I can't feel this. Doesn’t mean I don't want you to gag any less than you made me.”

Your hips thrust with a certainty that Klaus could feel the tip at the back of his throat. He was soundless though save for the soft sucking sounds. You started to fuck his mouth. The way he and other men had done to you. Your hips pumped back and forth. How much was enough when you couldn't climax like a man?

In a moment of clairvoyance, Klaus dragged his mouth backwards so that the imitation cock was slowly revealed. There was a satisfactory sound like yanking a suction cup off a surface. He gazed up at you with large green eyes silently asking you to further command him. Your fingers seizing his thick tresses so he couldn't look anywhere but you.

“How many nights have you worried about these.. morons finding out you’re a fake? That you admitted to me you were fraudulent. I love a fucking secret, and that's such a big one you trust me with. Would be such a shame if they found out.”

“You can't do that,” Klaus sounded afraid.

Yet you weren't sure if he was playing along or truly scared you'd out him to the others. Something in the back of his pleading let you know he would be relieved. To cast off the shackles of these expectant leeches he created.

“You could expose yourself to them another way. How human you would finally seem getting fucked up the ass by one of them. Your chosen one.”

Klaus climbed to his feet and pulled his boots off. He clambered out of his jeans, after he undid his belt and tossed his shirt aside. He stood in only his underwear.

You arched an eyebrow. “It's so amazing to me you can fuck the way you do,” you pinched his lithe waist, “Seeing there's not much to you.” You got your nails into his chin and tilted his head to the side. You let them trace a line along his jawbone. “Fortunately you've got quite the face. No one cares about the proverbs you spew or diatribes you go on. It's how fucking otherworldly beautiful you are. Gorgeous enough to just ruin.”

Klaus took a breath and rolled his eyes. Your hand tightened around his throat. “Don't you remember how obstinance is rewarded? All that bullshit yoga, you ought to be flexible. Fucking bend over, and show me.” You reached for his belt. “What are you always saying to me when you want anal?” You mimicked his voice, ‘Let's see how tight that ass is?”

Not having to command, Klaus held his wrists out. “Why do you still have clothes on? Naked.”

He obeyed and stripped completely. Being without clothes wasn't that big a deal to Klaus. He walked around the compound nude all the time. There were days most of you did. It's the having no control over his situation that really left him naked.

You took his arms and held them behind his back. You looped the belt around and hooked it through the buckle. You pulled the strap as tight as possible so that Klaus’s wrists were bound. His stance was wide legged, cock completely erect.

“Bend. over.”

And like Klaus had done to you when he assessed your body, you stood beside him and bent his body. His back flat like a table. You ran your hand along his tanned skin and spine before seizing his cock again.

“I lied. I might be a little.. terse with you, but I don't think I'm cruel,” you tapped your chin but kept Klaus’s erection firmly in your grasp. “I forgot something that MIGHT make fucking you a bit easier. You aren't exactly in a state to run to the house. So how about you fuck me first. With your mouth of course.”

You pushed Klaus’s head down to indicate he should kneel. Arms bound behind his back, he eagerly complied.

He sat back on his haunches to watch you undress. You wore only the strap on, which was lifted up to expose your cunt. Then you anchored yourself on Klaus’s shoulders. His mouth deftly finding your quick-swelling lips so his tongue could dart out. He probed you by pushing his tongue deep and forcing an instant slick from within.

You moaned. Klaus’s body twisted at an odd angle to get further inside of you. He lapped and flicked at you while searching for that bud of nerves and maintained his silence. There was a soft growl or two as he expertly worked your clit. Klaus circled it, tilted his head enough to run his tongue along you as you started to throb. He moved at a breakneck speed, one you never experienced from him before.

The pleasure was overwhelming as you reached to help Klaus along. Your fingers separated your slit so he had easier access to your clit now. Your hips rocked into him as you rode his face. Your balance lost a time or two but you steadied yourself in your abandon.

The two of you were so brazen in the setting sun. On the terrace knowing followers were around to catch or watch. Klaus with his wrists strapped by a belt. You wearing a fake dick, fucking his face. Your heart and cunt raced together as you started to spark. The fuse began to catch in the center of your body and suddenly it exploded with sparks as you came. Crying out unexpectedly so that your voice echoed off the stone.

“Fuck. What comes out of your mouth is sometimes so cliché, but the things you let me put in it.”

You fumbled around with the fake cock so that you could shift it towards your body. Klaus sat back and watched. His mouth and chin glistened with your orgasm which he surreptitiously attempted to lick from his lips. The devil in his eyes as he kept his composure.

“I don't think you have ever been this quiet in the two years I've been here.”

You situated the rubber dick enough to plunge it into yourself almost fully. It slid in with ease and out a few times. You repeated this enough to get it as lubricant as possible. Then wrapped your fingers in Klaus’s hair to yank him into position again.

“When I fuck you, I want you to tell me how good it feels.”

Your hand was on the tip of the cock to center it between Klaus’s ass. Your other wrapped up in the leather strap to help pull his hips towards you as you slowly plunged inside of him.

“Further,” Klaus managed around the air he finally released from his lungs.

“That wasn’t loud enough,” you informed him. You had his forearms in each hand as you sunk in more.

“Harder!” Klaus raised his voice more. “Fuck me.”

You tugged him backwards by the arms so that the strap on was sheathed by Klaus’s body. He yelled out in shock, so you hesitated in case..

“Fuck me. Hard. I want to feel your hips against my ass.” Klaus begged. He had his neck curved so that his head was facing up. And angle that would catch passersby.

You used Klaus’s arms as leverage. Creating a push and pull as you began slamming into him. How often did he rut against you like an animal when you got fucked from behind. Now you returned the favor.

It wasn't long before Klaus started to make an animal noise each time your pelvis crashed into his ass. Your nails clawed at his arms and tied wrists while you started to jerk your hips like you knew he did. Short bursts then pulled almost out and jerked back in.

“That feels so fucking good,” Klaus’s words were punctuated by your thrusts.

You weren't sure how much longer you could stand. You knew from Klaus that men got off differently this way than women. Parts of him inside were like a clit, but like you he maybe needed manual stimulation too. So you bent over him. You bit his back in the realm of playful crossed with marking your territory as you turned to jerking him off simultaneously.

“Holy shit!” Klaus yelled out. You were so lost in making him cum that you didn't realize he wasn't referring to your hands and dick.

Your gazed matched his to catch slack jawed followers on the sidewalk and patio on the upper level. Some curious, others blazed green with envy as you became theatrical with your fucking. The two of you looking them all dead on.

“What’s wrong?!” Klaus shouted in their direction. “Haven't you ever seen a prophet get ass fucked by someone?! And don't stop, I'm gonna cum.”

You trained your eyes on everyone, and stood. Your hands firmly on Klaus’s arms once more as you buried yourself into him one more time. His body arched and exploded. The sticky substance managed to cover his chest and stomach.

You situated yourself and took the strap-on off. Klaus straightened his body so that he was at his full height. He contorted enough to break free from the belt constraints. His body shook ever so slightly from the orgasm effects while he lifted your palm to his mouth and kissed it. Then bent to kiss you, tongue far inside your mouth. You could taste your cunt on his lips as you danced with him.

“This is what happens, Children, when you become my Chosen One!”

You let a selfish grin play across your lips in response.

Tag: @robertsheehanownsmyass @firstpersonnarrator @super-unpredictable98 @messengeronthemoon @nightmonsters @bisexualnathanyoung @rob-private @forenschik @magic-multicolored-miracle

#robert sheehan #robert sheehan character fic #klaus hargreeves #klaus x reader smut #klaus x reader

[kendrixtermina]

Appreciating the Range of Type 6, or, one stereotypical example, and three that aren’t.

I want to tell you about some type 6 ppl that I know in my personal life.

Exemplar #1: F. B.

Complete Stats

Wing: 5 p or cp: largely phobic – lots of safety worries, outright authoritarian follower personality Instinct: sp/soc Trifix: 613  - 6w5 1w2 3w2 (“The Taskmaster” or “The Middle Manager”) jungian: ISTJ / SLI-Te oldham: Conscientious & Aggressive Essence Type: Mars Temperament: Pure Choleric

What he’s like:

Not pleasant.

Every “strict conservative middle aged guy” stereotype in the book. Control freak, makes a mountain out of every molehill, sees the world as full of axe murderers, judgemental as fuck, horrible temper and yet completely impersonable, all his opinions are copypasted from right-wing news sites. When they say war is good he’s for war, and when they say war is bad he’ll be like “At least Trump did not start any more wars” without perceiving a contradiction. Despite this, he believes is very hot, principled and funny. He is none of these things. He puts people down nonstop. My knowledge of neurochemistry tells me that he must have emotions somewhere or he couldn’t function, but I ain’t ever seen a single one of those emotions. They’re all for his job and a few trusted mentor figures. And his mom. At least he loved her.

If you say anything he doesn’t like, he “throws the sofa out the window” as his wife once put it.

How he’s a Type 6:

Well, he’s pretty much every negative stereotype in a nutshell… other than distrusting his partner. But that might be cause hes sx blind, or cause the wife is big on monogamy & wouldn’t ever cheat.

The one positive trait of 6 that he has is that he does his research. Before moving anywhere he googles the crime rates and if you need a doctor he might find you the best one. But even that can be overriden by ideology (hydroxychloroquine!). And if you don’t take his exact advice, there goes the sofa out the window again…

And I guess the work ethic from all 3 parts of the trifix really comes through – he hasn’t had a single bad grade in his life and always keeps collecting new certifications, and will make sure you hear about it...

Exemplar #2: I.

Complete Stats

Wing: 5 P or cp: pretty much an even mix of phobic and counterphobic Instinct: sp/soc Trifix: 614 - 6w5 1w2 4w3 (Would prolly call herself “The Big Pain” rather than “The Philosopher” ^^°) jungian: INTJ / ILI-Ni oldham: Serious & Conscientious Essence Type: Saturn Temperament: Chlor-Mel

What she’s like:

I’d describe her as serious, mature, discerning, focused and passionate about her friendships, if perhaps somewhat forceful at times, with a dry, sarcastic sense of humor.

Comes across like someone who knows what she’s talking about, with well-articulated points.

Often the Responsible Sibling, Designated Sanity Checker or Bullshit Detector.

Prefers to plan everything in advance in typical Ni dom fashion, even amusement part trips. Gets somewhat anxious without a future plan or shedule.

Often mistaken for a whole lot more sociable and confident that she really feels inside. (even I kinda bought it and got her whole darn trifix wrong on my first typing attempt, though that was when I was new to typology) She can act the boss act temporarily to get the situation over with, but she actually hates making decisions.

She does however have the occasional cute/pure moment where that lower function block comes out.

How she’s a Type 6:

She has saved our family from many a terrible restaurant by making sure to check the reviews. The preparing for all possible dangers is very 6, the acting tough outwardly when youre inwardly anxious, the intellectual problem solving & some tendency towards organization/responsibility/ “logistic” intelligence.

One online test she took gave her 5w6 instead of 6w5 but that’s probably just the ITxx-ness leaking in. I remember this one time we were discussing this artsy-fartsy theater play to which we’d had fascinatingly different reactions, and at one point I half-jokingly said something like “But does anyone ever really feel connected to others, or is that a myth?” to which she wrote, “[Name], what the fuck? Yes I do.” and then immediately deleted it. That’s more of a 6 reaction innit?

Nonetheless the wing does feature in significantly – for example she got very well informed about a lot of topics because she researched them to assuage a random survival-related fear, like, “How to make sure I have enough retirement money”

Exemplar #3: M.

Complete Stats

Wing: 7 p or cp: largely phobic Instinct: sp/sx Trifix: 692 - 6w7 9w1 2w1 (Fortunately very much a “Good Samaritan” rather than “The Stockholm”) jungian: ISFP / SEI-Fi oldham: Sensitive & Devoted Essence Type: Lunar-Venus Temperament: Pure Supine

What she’s like:

Precious! Sweet, nice, good listener, friendly, gives all the best gifts. But also perceptive and good at understanding people, eg. mediating to the parents when one of the younger sisters is having An Emotion™ or winning the trust of problem children.

Unlike I. Who has some soc that helps her keep track of a larger circle of friends despite her introversion, M. tends to enjoy the closeness with her family and have just a few very close friends. Excellent friend material all around! The sx and Se also come out in enjoying art forms involving the body like theatre or dance.

She can be a bit shy, conflict-avoidant and occasionally a lil bit panicky though.

As a small kid she used to be super duper shy but then a wise english teacher encouraged her to play a big role in a play, and since then she’s a lot more confident and doesn’t let ppl push her around without limit, though she’s still a quiet, helpful person. There you see the difference that a good teacher can make.

How she’s a Type 6:

For one thing she moves and emotes faster than a core 9 would, and she fits the body language – big eyes that move around a lot, stands a bit lopsided, talks in a shrill voice on the rare occasions where we exhaust her patience etc. As a xSFx and a w7 she shows mostly the “warm, friendly, likeable” side of type 6. She also has a very 6-ish tendency to very frequently ask people’s opinions & feedback before making decisions. (the other fixes probably add to this)

Alas, she also has a little bit of of the fear/insecurity.

Also she has a social/care job which might be seen as 6-ish desire to serve the community.

Exemplar #4: J.

Complete Stats

Wing: 7 P or cp: largely counterphobic Instinct: sx/soc ?? definitely not sp first. Trifix: 638 - 6w7 3w4 8w9(?) (Shall she be a “Justice Fighter” or a “Kyle”? Only time will tell.) jungian: ISTP / LSI-Se ?? Oldham: ? some Dramatic & Serious, perhaps ? Essence Type: Definitely Mercury Temperament: San-Mel

What she’s like:

The first adjective that usually comes to my mind is ‘cool’. Sassy, energetic & a little bit tough, but also affectionate when she wants to be. (though in admiring way rather than a mushy one)

She says the coolest things, has a certain sly sort of cleverness, and an astonishly good poker face. Bit of an occasional prankster. Hilarious. Knows all sort of cool science facts. Avid gamer. 

Not especially popular or over the top sociable, but she gets sad if no one pays attention to her a while. Will act visibly moody where ppl can see sad or worried and can catastrophize a bit in such situations.

How she’s a Type 6:

I first though we might be getting an ExxP type 7 since she was a pretty energetic child, but once puberty hit and independent thought manifested, she turned out a whole lot too reactive and ‘edgy’ for this, and more on the ‘moderate introvert’ side of things.

Since then the sisterly dynamic has been like one fluffy golden dog and 3 hissing black cats. Hissing Cats #1 and #2 are very proud of her, but cat #1 was forced to conclude that she’s probably not a positive outlook type.

Out of all the reactive types 6 fits best because she does broadcast group identity (like wearing merchandise of her favorite media and wearing buttons in solidarity with ppl she likes.) & has a big case of Big Sibling worship for M, I, and someone else who isn’t on this list due to being a 9. (a 4 or 8 might like their older siblings but probably wouldn’t constantly stress the admiration.), but she can also show lasting, pouty displeasure with authority figures who have slighted her. (Like that one time I went too far in teasing her...)

I’m just assuming the 8 fix because that tends to make 6s more bold, louder & more shameless.

Basically she is the “punk teen” type of 6. She can be a bit dramatic & over-the top but still come to her family on advice (even advice on pranks!) in ways that xSTPs of other enneagrams prolly wouldn’t.

She also tends to use self-deprecating humor in tough situations and deflects compliments to present herself as ‘ordinary’.

...

This may sound like I’m really getting down on my first example (I won’t pretend that I’m not) but the point in bringing him up is that the reason he’s like this is: He was subject to really bad parenting that put a lot of fear into him, there was no good parenting to teach him broader coping strategies, he lived in a crappy environment that crushed his dreams, in a sense ‘confirming’ those fears and making him double down, resulting in a person who is just always rigidly following the same predictable pattern or jumping from one automatic reaction to the next with very little pausing and thinking. That goes for the other types too: A ‘stereotypical’ person is a desperate person ruled by fear, who cant stop or soften up even for an instant cause they constantly feel this fire of threat under their arse.

A lot of descriptions say that 6s ‘Follow authority’ but most would balk at the notion – ‘I do the research!’ they might argue ‘I don’t just trust anyone’ or ‘I’m actually a rebel’. There is of course such a thing as denial  that’s more like the extreme case.

But with a more average, functional 6 it’s not so much ‘obedience’ as that they just like to bounce their ideas off of others to get feedback, or that they feature in other’s viewpoints. So you might get someone who can naturally use feedback (something other ppl may have to learn first) or who is very considerate of others (which others might have to consciously remind themselves to do.)

Those are sometimes pretty good traits actually.

On the other hand this is probably part of what makes decisions hard cause they consider all these possible scenarios of how things might displease or cause harm to everyone involved.

Being able to naturally snap into Action Mode under stress looks a bit enviable from the outside, but I. assures me that it’s actually super stressful & exhausting, even for someone who doesn’t get to a point of just being unreasonably aggro at you.

Though even an extreme case like F.B. would probably claim that he ‘did the research’ even as he’s 1:1 quoting the Pope at you, and then saying that you ‘have to be respectful’ even if you don’t even believe in Christianity. Hence why you get a lot of authoritarians talking about “disrespect”. You didn’t “fail to obey”, you “disrespected the flag” or  “hurt the feelings of the Chinese people”. Because they’re still trying or inwardly thinking that they’re doing the consideritation & considering other’s PoV thing when they’ve long since crossed from respect and consideration into mindless obedience, all while still thinking that they’re very sceptical and discerning cause after all they really distrust the other political party or whatever.  

In a way you get this obsession with ‘mind control’ cause they’re not unaware of & very much looking to guard the blind spot. They’re adults trying to do adult things.

For example, if I voiced an opinion to F. B. which he didn’t like, his reaction was often to ask “who told you that”

That’s just how he seems to think opinions work, somebody tells them to you.

Makes one wonder how he thinks new opinions start.

Yeah - Nobody told me that. I concocted it myself in some corner of my head. And in the interest of objectivity, I should stress that you can also end talking out of your ass that way, if you’re not basing it on enough outside data. Making up new shit has more of a quadratic than a linear learning curve – at least with copying you get something semi-useful right away. In making up your own you might be really off a long time before you stumble on something useful.

Also, I was young at the time and it’s not wholly unreasobale to think that an inexperienced person might be duped. I reacted really badly in part cause he hit my own ego buttons cause I was of course proud of this epiphany that I had concocted by myself, and now he says (or so I perceived it, being sensitive to accusations of incompetence) that I’m too dumb to form an opinion, so of course I launched into full Obnoxious Reddit Dude Mode.

In I. It manifests more on a reasonable useful level like “Oh wait, should [young cousin] be on TikTok? I don’t want him to get sucked into some cultish BS.” which is at least something the parents should have on the radar/ warn him about even if they do let him use TikTok, because for all that it is vital for him to get his experience with independent socializing & experimentig with sel-presentation, people do sometimes get suckered into cults or goaded into unsafe tests of courage.

And in a sense… maybe they overamphasize it but to some extent they’re also simply consciously aware/ mindful of it. The rest of us are not immune to propaganda after all, solong as it’s presented in a way pleasing to our egos. Any type structure can become a ‘hook’ if you’re not careful.

#enneagram #enneagram 6 #ennea 6 #6w5 #6w7

[hoedameronsworld]

The End Of An Era

Pairing: Obi-wan x reader

Words: 5.5k

Summary: you discover, quite unexpectedly that you are pregnant. Unsure how to tell Obi-wan and trying to keep the news hidden from the Jedi order, you somehow manage to distance yourself from Obi, all the while he tries to figure out what has you behaving so strangely.

A/n : here it is folks! The first offical post for this account. A masterlist is up, so feel free to read through the works I have planned. I’m really excited for this account and I can’t wait to meet all of you. Enjoy my first story! Constructive criticism is always appreciated!

The large window sill was hard underneath your back, but you didn’t mind. It was actually your favourite spot in your small room. You lay on the hard surface, your hands folded over your stomach, your head turned to watch the world outside your window. The early morning sunshine warmed you up as you watched the world go by on the other side of your window.

You felt a sense of calm wash over you, almost as if you were meditating. Really, this was your own way of meditation. Laying there, the warm sun blanketing your body, watching the busyness of Coruscant - it centred you, allowed you to focus and to find peace.

Watching the rush and bustle of the busy city while you lay completely motionless and peaceful also gave you a sense of disconnection. But in a good way. It made you feel like your own person, not just another face in the crowd. You knew it won’t be long before you rejoin the world, become part of the chaos of the city. But for now, you enjoyed watching over the world in silence and warmth.

You can’t help but smile when you hear a soft knock at your door. You already know who it is. You had sensed him long before he had actually arrived, your force signature tangling with his, adding another source of warmth into your morning. Besides, you knew he would be coming. You’re surprised he didn’t come looking for you as soon as they realised you would not be showing up.

You let out a soft hum, letting him know that he is welcome to enter. You know that he would not be able to hear the small noise, so you allow your force signature that is entwined with his to open up, telling him that he is welcome.

As soon as the door is closed behind him, he is moving to where your lying, knelling down so he is level with you.

“Darling? Are you okay? You didn’t attend the council meeting this morning” Obi-Wan whispers running a hand over your hair. You hum contently at his gentle touch. Oh, how you wished to stay in this blissful moment forever.

You take a moment to enjoy the moment before you reply softly.

“ ‘M fine. I was unwell when I got up. I feel fine now, but I thought it best to take the day off, not get anyone else sick.” You turn your head to look at him, smiling at him softly. You grab his hand - the one not in your hair - and lay it with your own on your stomach, tangling your fingers with his.

“Do you need me to take you to the health room?” He says, still maintaining the soft and quiet tone, sensing your calm and quiet mood.

“S’probably just a stomach bug. I’ll be right as rain tomorrow” you whisper. He leans forward and places a long kiss on your forehead. You close your eyes, enjoying his soothing presence. After a moment he pulls away from you and smiles at your blissed out expression.

“Let me know if you need anything, okay? I’m at the temple all day” he says. You just nod your head in understanding. You open your eyes and find his beautiful blue ones instantly.

“I love you Obi” you mumble. He places another kiss on your head before standing up, removing his hands from your hair and stomach. You can’t help but whine slightly at the loss of contact. Normally your reaction would result in a small chuckle from him, but today he was filled with a warmth so great he was almost tempted to join you on the window sill and cradle you securely to his chest and never let you go.

“And I you” he whispers, so quietly you almost miss it. He knows you don’t though, because your content smile widens slightly. He retreats from your room before he throws all his responsibilities out the window so he can join you.

~>•••••<~

You were better the next day. And the day after that. However, the next three days after that you would wake up and go scurrying towards the refresher and the toilet. Once you would finish you would feel perfectly fine again for the rest of the day. You told no one of your continual sickness. Not even Obi-Wan. You thought about going to see a medic, but something inside you was telling you that that was a bad idea. So you endured the sickness most mornings before going through your normal life at the Jedi temple.

You had gone several days without any sickness, so when Obi-Wan suggested you spend the night in his room, you agreed. The two of you were cuddled up together, still fast asleep despite the morning sun filtering in through the window. Your naked bodies were entwined and tangled, as were your force signatures. Connected in every way.

Something within the force shifted. It was a small movement, one that no one around you would even notice. However, it caused you to jolt awake. You took a moment to focus, trying to pinpoint the tiny difference that you were sensing. And then it hit you.

There was another life form in this room.

Another life force in you.

Suddenly the recent sickness made a lot of sense.

You could not let anyone know. Not yet. Not until you had a moment to think and to process the news. However, if anyone paid a close enough attention, they would easily be able to spot the extra force signature. Especially with yourself so closely entwined with Obi-Wan, he would sense it immediately when he awoke.

So, you slammed all mental shields up and pulled back your force signature, yanking it harshly away from Obi-Wan until it was the size of a pinprick.

At the harsh - and almost painful - movement of your force signature disappearing, Obi-wan jumped awake. He frowns as he watched you hurry out of the bed and quickly get changed. He couldn’t quite understand what was wrong until an empty, cold feeling swept open. It was you. Something was wrong with you. You had completely closed up. Obi-wan suddenly felt bare and vulnerable.

“Y/n? Are you okay? Is something wrong?” He asked. His voice slightly gravely from sleep. He was sitting up in the bed, watching you put your shoes on with a lost expression on his face.

“ ‘m fine. Just need to go” you mumbled as you yanked on one shoe, reaching for the second.

“Talk to me, my love. Are you sick again?” He asked thinking back to earlier that week. You can’t help but let out a bitter laugh at that.

“No, I’m not sick. This is something so much worse. But it’s also amazing. I’ve got to go.” You finished with your shoes and stood, racing towards the door. While you were moving so quickly, Obi-wan was still moving slowly, his mind almost sluggish.

“Something worse? Y/n wait!” He tried to say, however the door shut with a slam before his words completely left his mouth.

~>•••••<~

It was unintentional, but you had managed to push Obi-wan away. You found yourself avoiding his gaze during council meetings and training sessions. You would turn down any offer of sneaking away from the temple for a few hours to get something to eat or go for a walk. You didn’t spend any time with Obi-wan unless it was absolutely necessary.

You didn’t want to distance yourself from him. On the contrary, you wanted to spend as much time as possible with him. With your relationship being a secret, the two of you already had limited time to spend together.

Yet, you knew you could not be around him at the moment. Any time you were near him, you felt the weight of your pregnancy pressing down on you, almost like a physical weight on your shoulders. You knew you needed to tell him, but for the moment, you still needed some time to process the news yourself.

One morning, you were making your way to the mediation chamber. You needed some time to clear your head. About halfway to your destination, a voice interrupts your thoughts.

“Master L/n! Do you have a spare moment?” You hear Anakin call out to you. You turn to face the man as he jogs towards you.

“Anakin! No running in the temple. Hasn’t your master taught you anything?” You ask, your tone playful. Anakin smirks back at you.

“I’m afraid not. I often ignored what he had to say” Anakin said in the same playful tone. You knew Anakin was only joking. You had watched Anakin grow up as he worked under Obi-wan and you knew the boy looked up to Obi-wan.

“What can I do for you today, Ani?” You questioned with a smile.

“If you are not busy, would you help me with my training? It appears Obi-wan’s meeting with master Windu has gone over time” Anakin responds. Despite your plans for meditating, you agree to help Anakin. It had been a while since you had spent time with him and you thought the exercise would do you some good.

The two of you arrive at the training room and you take of your cloak, folding it neatly before you place it on a nearby bench. You ignite your lightsaber and begin sparring with Anakin, catching up with him as your lightsabers clash together. You don’t know how long you battle for when Obi-wan enters the room. You pull away, moving to leave when Obi stops you.

“Please continue. I’ll watch and offer some pointers if you’d like?” Obi-wan said as he sat down on the bench next to your cloak. You nod without a word and turn back towards Anakin, who reignites his lightsaber. The two of you continue your battle for a while until Obi-wan speaks up.

“Sorry, if I may interrupt” he says, standing and removing his own cloak. You take a few steps away from Anakin to allow Obi-wan to offer his pointers.

“Go for it” you acknowledge. You take a few steps away so you can watch the two of them. Obi-wan unclips his own lightsaber from his belt and moves to stand next to Anakin.

“That manoeuvre you were just doing was too high up. It’s a defensive manoeuvre that is meant to protect the entirety of your body. However, when you hold your saber too close to your body, like you were, it limits the amount of protection” Obi-wan explains to his former padawan. Obi-wan moves to display how Anakin was doing it before switching to how the move is supposed to be performed. You can’t help but smile as you watch Obi-wan explain the move to Anakin. Obi-wan is patient as he tries to show Anakin the correct way to perform the manoeuvre despite Anakin’s protests about ‘not being a padawan anymore’.

You realise in this moment that Obi-wan is going to make an amazing father. A warmth that grows from your chest engulfs you as you realise how lucky you are to have Obi-wan. Despite the untimely development of your child, you know that you have no fear of Obi-wan being disappointed or angry. You know deep down, that even if Obi-wan was completely opposed to having children, he would support you through the pregnancy and your child’s life.

The thought, as well as your now haywire hormones, causes you to break down in tears right there. You sink down onto the nearest bench and hide your face in your hands as you sob. You hear a clatter and realise that Obi-wan has dropped his lightsaber in his rush to get to you. You feel him kneel down in front of you. His warm hands gently grab hold of yours and he pries your hands away from your face. You meet his face, and the sight of worry and concern and love pooling in his soft blue eyes has you crying even harder.

“Hey, hey, Y/n. What’s wrong?” He asks softly, his beautiful voice gentle and calming. You quickly glance up and see Anakin standing behind Obi-wan, concern also written over his face. You look back down and shake your head, pulling your hands out of Obi-wan’s so you can wipe away your tears.

“S’nothing. M’fine. I p-p-promise” you sob, trying to lessen your tears and control yourself, yet failing. Obi-wan, seemingly having caught your glance towards Anakin, turns his head away from you towards his former padawan.

“Anakin, I think you’ve had enough training for today. Do you mind giving us a moment?” Obi-wan says. Anakin nods, seemingly still trying to comprehend your sudden mood change. He seems to understand your need for space, so he grabs his belongings and leaves without protest. Obi-wan moves to sit next to you, and as soon as the door closes behind Anakin, he pulls you into his chest. One of his arms wraps securely around your back, the other runs soothingly through your hair. He gently shushes you as you continue to cry into his chest, gripping tightly onto his robes.

“Shh, love. You’re okay. I’ve got you” he whispers into your hair, only causing you to get more emotional. He doesn’t question you, just continues to whisper sweet, comforting words as you finally manage to calm yourself down. Despite your now calm breathing and dry eyes, Obi-wan continues to hold you tight to him, sensing that all you need at the moment is his comfort. After a while you finally speak up.

“I’m sorry Obi.” He pulls away from you slightly so he can look at you. You rest your chin on his chest so you’re looking up at him.

“There is no reason for you to apologise. There is nothing wrong with crying. Are you alright? Is there anything I can do?” You shake your head.

“I’m alright… just…” you look into his eyes and realise he’s waiting for you to explain what had you suddenly crying in the middle of Anakin’s training. You could hardly explain to him that it was due to the hormone changes that came along with the pregnancy that he didn’t know about. You reached for an excuse and grabbed hold of the first one that came to mind.

“I’m just stressed. This war is taking a lot out of me. I guess seeing you and Anakin together reminded me of times before the war and something about that caused me to break.”

In a way that was true. The war had taken a lot out of you, and now that you knew you were fighting for your baby as well, there seemed an added pressure on the situation. And you really did miss the days before the war, when you, Obi-wan and Anakin could go around enjoying each other’s company.

“I know. We Jedi are not made for fighting wars. However, it is just the way it is. All we can do now is to work hard to bring this war to an end, that way things can return to normal.” His voice is soft as he speaks and you can hear the underlying sadness in his tone. It’s obvious he doesn’t like this war any more than you do. He looks down at you, nothing but love in his eyes. The expression on his face almost brings you to tears again.

“We’ll get through it. Together.”

~>•••••<~

The rocky ground is hard underneath your feet, and the sun beats hotly down on you. You can feel your hair cling to your forehead with sweat, but you don’t have time to brush it away.

Obi-wan, Anakin, Ahsoka and yourself had been sent to retrieve an admiral and several clone troopers who had crash landed on this hot planet. However, once your small group had arrived, Anakin and Ahsoka had been separated from you and Obi-wan as you were ambushed by Ventress. As you and Obi-wan battled to keep the assassin busy, Anakin and Ahsoka and left to search for the missing group. Despite this being a two-on-one battle, Ventress was strong and was managing to keep both you and Obi-wan at bay.

Ventress pushed Obi-wan with the force, sending him flying into the rocky cliff wall behind him. You swung your weapon wildly, almost as if you had forgotten any and all technique. Ventress blocked the attack easily and flipped backwards, putting some distance between the two of you.

“You’ve rather lost your touch, L/n. You’re almost no fun to battle anymore” Ventress spoke.

“I’d hardly say these battles are for fun” you respond. You readjust your lightsaber and take a few steps forward, preparing to engage in the battle once more, when you stumble slightly. The world around you begins to blur slightly, and you blink rapidly, trying to clear your vision. Why is it, that a dizzy spell had to hit you now, of all times?

You knew it was just another symptom of your pregnancy. You had been dizzy enough times to know that. Once or twice, you had even passed out. As you stumbled a bit more, you realised with growing dread that you might faint now as well. Your vision clears enough for you to see Ventress approaching you, her lightsabers raised in attack. You take a few steps back and raise your lightsaber in a last chance to protect yourself. However, the force of your opponents attack pushes you onto the rocky ground and sends your lightsaber flying from your grip.

Black dots move across your blurry vision as you see Ventress standing over you.

“Such a disappointing fight” she pouts before she raises her sabers and brings them hurtling down towards you.

In that moment, as you prepare for your death, you feel regret. Regret that you never told Obi-wan that he was going to be a father. Although the two of you had never discussed children before, something within you told you that he would have been happy. It was already obvious he would have made an excellent father. You just regret that you never got to tell him yourself. Instead, he will be told the news by a medical droid upon your inspection. He would have to hide his initial reaction until he was someplace quiet so he could grieve the loss of both you, and the child he never got to have. It saddened you that due to the secrecy of your relationship, Obi-wan would never have someone to comfort him through his time of loss.

Just before the red sabers make contact with you, Obi-wan’s own blue saber is over you, preventing Ventress from harming you. Using the force, he shoves her as far away as possible before his kneeling down besides you. You can see that he’s talking, but you can hardly make out what he is saying. Something about Anakin and taking you back to the ship. He then grabs your lightsaber and turns to face Ventress, who has now returned.

You watch, on the cusp of losing consciousness, as he battles her using both his lightsaber and his own. It doesn’t take long until your suddenly being picked up, sending panic through you. You fight weakly against whoever has hold of you until you see Anakin’s face above you. As he begins to move you towards the ship, you finally lose consciousness.

~>•••••<~

When you wake up, you can tell that you are already in hyperspace. The bed you’ve been laid on is slightly uncomfortable under your back, but that’s not uncommon for medical beds. You turn your head and see Obi-wan pacing a few metres away from your bed. You sit up.

“Obi?” You call. The sound of your voice has him moving quickly to reach your side.

“My darling, you’re awake” he coos as he leans over you.

“Where’s Anakin and Ahsoka?” You ask. Obi-wan chuckles.

“They’re in the cockpit, getting us home” he responds. You raise an eyebrow.

“What’s so funny?” He just shakes his head in response, however you continue to stare at him expectantly.

“You’re sitting here, unwell on a medial bed, and yet you are worried about Anakin and Ahsoka” he eventually relents.

“Well I know I’m perfectly fine. Of course I’m going to worry about those two!” You exclaim. All humour from Obi-wan’s expression fades.

“You are not ‘perfectly fine’. You passed out during the middle of a battle!”

“Look, Obi, I know why I passed out. It’s nothing you need to concern yourself with.”

“Nothing I need to concern myself with! You were almost killed because you passed out!” Obi-wan exclaims. He takes a moment to calm down. “When we land, I’m taking you to a medical droid to -“

“No!” You interrupt him. “No droids. Please.” You knew you couldn’t go to a medical droid. All it would take is one quick scan and they would know the truth. Obi-wan let out a deep sigh.

“I need to know that you are okay.”

“I am okay! I know why I passed out. Trust me” you say softly, trying to comfort him. You study each other’s faces for a moment.

“Why?” He breaks the moment.

“Why what?”

“Why did you pass out then?”

You look away from him, turning your attention to where your hands rested in your lap.

“I - I can’t tell you. Not here” you whisper, not wanting Anakin or Ahsoka to over hear what you were saying. Out of the corner of your eye, you catch a worried expression flash over Obi-wan’s face.

“Y/n, darling, what’s going on?” He asks, just as softly. You look back up at him.

“I’m sorry Obi. I can’t tell you just yet.” You feel hurt as he moves away from you, yet you know you deserve it.

“Okay. If you don’t want to talk to me, that’s fine. But, whatever is going on is greatly effecting you. You need to do something about it before you get hurt” he says.

Silence envelopes you as you think over his words. He’s right. You can’t do this any longer. It’s time to do the inevitable. You can’t continue to hide this. It’s time you speak with the council.

~>•••••<~

You hadn’t told Obi-wan about what you were going to do. You knew that if you had, he would have either tried to talk you out of it, or tried to leave with you. Obi-wan could not leave the order. He was a vital part of winning the war. You just hoped that his reaction in there would not give away your relationship. It was best for your pregnancy to remain unknown for as long as possible.

Sucking in a deep breath, you walked into the council chambers.

Nervous energy made you fidgety, however you had long ago mastered how to control and conceal your emotions.

“Good afternoon masters. I am here to talk about my leave” you announce. Obi-wan leans forward in his seat at this.

“Your leave?” Mace Windu speaks up.

“Yes Master Windu. I feel as if my time as a Jedi has reached its end” you explain.

“I peg your pardon” Obi-wan exclaims. You face him and give him a small smile. You knew he would not be able to completely hide his reaction.

“I’m sorry, master Kenobi. You have been a dear friend, however this decision had to be made by me. That is why I have not spoken with you” you say to him. You can see him clench his jaw, a sign that he wants to say something, however he knows he can’t so he sits back in his seat.

“Strong Jedi, you are. Your leave, a great loss it will be” master Yoda spoke up.

“Why do you feel you should leave?” Mundi said. You turn to face him as you respond, subconsciously settling you hands over your stomach, an action that Yoda does not miss.

“For several weeks now, something in the force has been telling me that my future now lays outside of the Jedi order. I believe it best to follow this.”

“Very well. It is your decision to make. Hand in your lightsaber. You can remain here for a few days while you pack and find somewhere else to stay” Windu says. You unclip your lightsaber from your belt and take one last look at your hand-built weapon before you hand it over to Yoda. You bow to the council members then take your leave, hurrying back to your room. You know that you want to be in a private space for the conversation that is to come.

Just as you had suspected, it wasn’t long after you had taken off your cloak when you heard a knock at your door. Although your force signature was still tightly closed, you knew who it was. You opened the door and let Obi-wan inside.

You don’t say anything, letting him have a few moments to gather his thoughts and figure out what he wants to say. You know that he needs to be the one to speak first.

“I don’t believe you” he eventually says, his back to you. You can’t help but frown, confused.

“What don’t you believe?” You question.

“I don’t believe that it is the force that is influencing your decision to leave.” His voice is soft as he speaks, but the room is quiet so you hear him easily.

“Well that’s because it isn’t the reason” you state simply. He turns around to face you at this.

“So why? Why are you leaving? And why didn’t you come and speak with me?” His tone is one of pain and hurt. “Do you not trust me?” You step towards him and gently take his hands in yours.

“Of course I trust you, Obi. It’s just that…” you struggled to find the right words. “This isn’t something that should be discussed here in the temple.”

“You said the same thing in the ship a few days ago.”

“Because Anakin and Ahsoka were both there. Obi, this is something that, at the moment, can only be kept between the two of us. Neither of us can risk anyone else knowing at the time being.”

Obi-wan doesn’t get to give a response as a knock sounds on your door. You give Obi-wan’s hands a small squeeze and a small, apologetic smile before you move away from him, moving towards the door.

To say you are surprised when you open the door, would be an understatement. Yoda stood before you, the last person you would expect to see knocking at your door.

“Master Yoda! What can I do for you?” You stammered slightly.

“Come to return this, I have” he says, holding your lightsaber up to you. You blink down at him blankly.

“But master…” you trail off, not knowing what to say.

“If correct I am, then out of your control your circumstances were” he replies.

“But master, I cannot be a Jedi” you remind him. Although slightly shocked by this, it hardly surprises you that Yoda realised the true reasoning behind your leave.

“Jedi, you are not. Warrior you are. This you will need.” He gestures to your lightsaber with his head.

“Thank you master” you respond, gratefully taking the weapon from him. Yoda peers around you and you realise too late that he is looking at Obi-wan. You know he has already connected the dots.

“Master, please-“ you begin, but he cuts you off.

“Leave us only one Jedi will” he says. Relief washes over you, knowing that Obi-wan will not be kicked out of the order.

“Thank you master” you say gratefully, bowing deeply. He returns the bow and leaves.

You turn back around, clutching your lightsaber in your hand. You look up at Obi-wan and step towards him.

“Obi, darling, I’m sorry. I really am. Just give me -“ your cut off as you feel a bout of sickness grow within you. You mentally curse. Your symptoms really do nail their timing. You rush past Obi-wan, dropping your lightsaber in the process as you hurry to reach your small refresher.

You collapse in front of your toilet and upend the contents of your stomach into the bowl. Obi-wan is there immediately, rubbing soothing circles on your back. You feel as if you truely don’t deserve him. Despite how confused and frustrated he must be feeling at your secretive behaviour, he is with you in a moments notice when you need him.

Once you’ve finished, you remain on the floor next to the toilet as Obi-wan grabs a cloth from your cupboard and runs it under cold water. You take it from him silently and use the refreshing cloth to clean your face. Once you are done and your strength has returned, you shuffle backwards until your back hits the wall. Obi-wan kneels in front of you.

“Please tell me what’s going on. You have been acting strangely. You were sick a little while ago, and now you’re sick again. You occasionally disappear during training or council meetings. You started crying during Anakin’s training session a few weeks ago and you passed out in the middle of battle a few days ago. Not to mention that you have turned down all offers of spending time with me and you have closed your force signature completely. And now you’ve gone off and left the Jedi temple without even talking to me! I don’t know what’s going on Y/n, but I miss you and I love you and I just want to help you” Obi-wan exclaims.

You study his face carefully, taking in all the details. His soft beard, his pink lips, his clear eyes. You find all of his emotions written across his face easily, reading him like an open book. His concern. His worry. His love.

You know there is no avoiding it. You have to tell him now.

“I …” but you can’t find the words. You have absolutely I idea what to say to him.

So, you close your eyes and slowly expand your force signature. It grows from the tiny pinprick until it is encompassing your entire body. You hear Obi-wan hum softly, embracing the feeling of you again. After being disconnected from you for so long, he doesn’t realise the change at first.

You wait, your eyes shut tight as Obi-wan’s force signature tangles with your own. His own signature jumps backwards suddenly and you know that he has sensed it. You wait, holding your breath for something, anything to come from the man in front of you. You still don’t dare open your eyes.

You wait for a few moments, waiting for Obi-wan’s reaction.

Suddenly, you feel his forehead drop onto your chest, his hands grabbing onto the fabric at your waist. You finally open your eyes and look down at him hugging you tightly. Your confused for a moment, trying to decipher his reaction until it hits you.

He’s crying.

You don’t think you have ever seen Obi-wan cry before. And yet here he is, clutching desperately to you and sobbing into your chest at the discovery that he’s going to be a father.

Your quick to respond, wrapping your arms around his back and bringing one hand up to run through his hair. You don’t say anything, just giving him his chance to let out his emotions. You don’t know how long you hold him for.

After a while, he pulls out of your arms, but he doesn’t move away. He lays down between your legs and rests his hands and his head on your stomach. You don’t say anything, just continue to run your fingers through his hair. You can’t seem to find the strength to break the silence. Your too scared and exhausted for that. Obi-wan seems to realise this as well and he eventually moves just slightly, resting his chin on your stomach so he can look up at you.

“I can’t believe you fought Ventress, despite being pregnant” he says. You can’t help but laugh. But you also start to cry. Now it’s Obi-wan’s turn to hold you. He sits up and pulls you into his lap, holding you tightly as you cry and mutter apology after apology.

And despite him just having cried himself, he begins again. Soon the both of you are a pile of mess as you cry and you smile and you kiss and you apologise and say I love yous. All the while one, or both of his hands remain rested over your stomach. And while the lead up to this moment was stressful and unpleasant and the future is entirely unknown, the two of you bathe in your combined happiness as this chapter of your lives comes to a close in order to prepare for the next.

#obi wan kenobi #obi wan #obi-wan #obi wan x reader #the clone wars #anakin skywalker #ahsoka tano #padme amidala #asaaj ventress #x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #star wars #star wars imagines #you x obi wan

[bestworstcase]

i’ve been thinking about this post from a couple days ago and how i shared my four questions of character development but didn’t actually give an example of what my answers look like and it’s bugging me a bit because it occurs to me that it’s kinda just. lobbing a tool out there without documentation on how to use it properly rip

so uh. further details with examples ft. the bitter snow cast.

#1: what are they looking for?

all characters have an UNFULFILLED DESIRE that motivates them to action. the more central to the story the character is, the harder this must be to attain, as a general rule. this is, ideally, NOT an exterior goal. instead, it is the intrinsic wellspring from which the character’s goals and aspirations emerge.

EXAMPLES:

cassandra: it’s complicated. she is a character defined more by what she lacks than what she wants, per se; she does not feel secure of her place in the world, she craves trust because she feels she is distrusted, she craves respect because she feels she is overlooked, she craves love because she feels unloved. she doesn’t want to be a servant. she is terrified of insignificance, of being forgotten. she does not fit, and this hurts her. she is riddled with self-loathing and self-doubt because of the discrimination she has endured due to her saporian heritage. but if pressed to explain what she wants… she can’t summon a true answer. she doesn’t know what she wants, so what she is looking for fundamentally is to figure that out.

rapunzel: complicated again. she is a character defined in large part by what other people want from her. a people-pleaser who becomes anxious, persistent—even forceful—in her efforts to make everyone happy. she isn’t accustomed to paying attention to her own desires, and tends to neglect them unless she is acutely unhappy. i think she is looking for herself, more than anything.

varian: he is searching for answers. he wants to understand how the world works, to discover what it has to teach him. simple.

caine: she is looking for freedom. her life has been a long succession of horrific losses: her father was brutally taken from her, her mother became horribly ill, poverty and familial obligation robbed her of what remained of her childhood, she became disillusioned with the faith her aunt tried to share with her, her best friend died in her arms. she wants vengeance, and she also wants to stop carrying these ghosts with her, and she also wants to stop looking over her shoulder all the time and waiting for the next loss to catch up with her.

zhan tiri: she is looking for peace. she is the oldest living being in existence, and she came from nothing, and every single significant moment in her unfathomably long life has been soaked in blood and pain and death. her intrinsic nature is to hunger—always needing, always restless, always empty—and more than anything, she longs to break this endless circle of want.

#2: what’s stopping them?

every character must have an OBSTACLE which DISRUPTS their pursuit of what they’re looking for. it is the thing standing in their way. this is NOT the antagonist—it is the reason the character cannot easily overcome the antagonist. ideally it is something intrinsic.

EXAMPLES:

cassandra: she has, again, a complicated answer—because the very thing she is looking for is the same thing that stands in her way. how can she discover her basic, most primal want if she can’t even articulate her goals? she wants, at the beginning of the story, to join the watch—but not because she wants to join the watch, so much as joining the watch is a proxy for cassandra assimilating fully, for being coronan through and through, for scrubbing herself clean of the stain of her parents’ legacy—and that proxy is itself merely a proxy for her desire to belong—and her desire to belong is, in turn, a proxy for the agony of not knowing herself. she is piling bandaids on top of bandaids on top of bandaids on top of hemorrhages.

rapunzel: she is trapped in her own story. an evil witch kidnapped the magical lost princess, who escaped and came home; a miracle. the sundrop gifted its power to the lost princess; destiny. she a peacemaker and a mediator; it is her job to fix problems. narratives piled on narratives and she’s lost—or rather, never had—the insight to recognize that there is more to her than the stories people tell about her.

varian: his crushing need for approval is the key thing standing in his way. it isn’t just that his father’s disappointment or his village’s distrust make him warier of free experimentation; it is also, and perhaps even more so, that he is afraid of finding the wrong answers. answers that won’t help people. answers that his friends and allies won’t like. answers that change his basic view of the world in ways that feel antithetical to who he is. this fear holds him back from pursuing the truth.

caine: she is looking in the wrong direction; she is trying to not care, as if by not caring she can trick the universe into not taking anything else away. she is someone who cares so deeply trying to sever herself from everything she cares about without actually letting it go, which is of course an exercise in futility.

zhan tiri: what she wants is, quite simply, impossible. this is not a human answer because she is not human. contentment is and will always be something she is not capable of feeling, and chasing it is nothing but another exercise in insatiable hunger.

#3: what are they going to do about it?

this is about ACTION. it is not an option for a character to do nothing; the nature of the unfulfilled desire is that they are COMPELLED to seek it, somehow, by some means. if the answer to this question does not involve the character DOING SOMETHING, you need to return to question number one and fix the answer there.

EXAMPLES:

cassandra: she is going to fling herself headlong and without hesitation after whatever concrete goals feel like they might “fix” the lack she feels. even if a short term goal (like helping rapunzel sneak out) clashes or is contradictory with a longer term goal (like joining the watch). even if it is an obviously stupid idea (like her secret correspondence with rosalia morcant). even if it is an impulse with little if any rational basis (like fixating on finding varian, or joining the fight in socona). she is, essentially, throwing stuff at the wall to see what sticks, because without knowing what she wants, she can’t form a coherent “quest” for herself.

rapunzel: she is going to follow the path of least resistance with whatever narrative feels the least restrictive to her at any given time. when she is fresh out of the tower, reconnecting with her real family and throwing herself into becoming a princess is that narrative. later, taking adira’s and xavier’s advice to pursue her destiny by questing for the moonstone replaces that narrative. since none of these narratives fully suit her—they are all boxes she tries to fit into—she will eventually grow discontent and cast them aside to try something new, until she finally breaks this cycle.

varian: he is going to fall into a cycle of hesitant side-stepping leading to crisis leading to frantic charge forward until he identifies this pattern and chooses to step calmly but courageously into unknown territory. his instinct is to try to go around, to find an oblique solution, but to get what he wants he will ultimately need to just face his fear head on—and deep down he is willing to do that.

caine: she is going to run, and fight, and keep running and fighting until her legs give out beneath her. vengeance appeals to her, and she’s going to chase it with everything she’s got while trying to protect what she has; her intense drive is tempered by caution, which manifests in a pragmatic approach to pursuit of her exterior goals.

zhan tiri: she is going to continuously and experimentally refine and broaden her definition of “hunger” with the aim of hitting on something that allows her to feel satiated. she is going to line up goals and systematically chew threw them until there’s nothing left. she is, eventually, going to devour the whole cosmos and then probably die.

#4: who do they think they are?

this is a question about the character’s SELF-IDENTIFICATION. how do they PERCEIVE themselves? how do they choose to DEFINE themselves? what do they see when they look in the mirror?

EXAMPLES:

cassandra: she is untrustworthy. she is ignored. she is likable but not lovable. she doesn’t fit anywhere. she’s empty. she’s unsure. she’s drowning in doubt. she is insignificant, unimportant. she has been wronged, somehow. she wants to be a hero. she is someone who wants to do the right thing. she never stops trying. she’s stupid and reckless and incapable and doesn’t deserve any of the things she wants. she probably cares too much.

rapunzel: she is good. she is kind. (she is better than other people, in some small way. she sees the potential for goodness that other people can’t, or won’t.) she is worthless. she exists to make the world a better place. she is a princess, so she has to lead. she is the sundrop, so she has to heal. she is strong. (she is weak.) her determination to be kind and willingness to trust are her best qualities.

varian: he’s probably a lot smarter than most people he knows. he doesn’t know anything, but he wants to. he’s reckless. he’s not good enough. he can’t replace his mom. he’s accident prone. he’s a disappointment. he moves too fast. he thinks too fast. he doesn’t really need to sleep. he’s better with chemicals and formulas and machines than people. he’s not someone people want to be friends with. he could do great things if people—especially his dad—would just believe in him for once.

caine: she is an asshole and there is nothing wrong with her. she’s callous. she’s selfish. she’s out for her own interest first. she’s fine. (it was her fault cornaīn died. it’ll be her fault if her mom dies, or if neasa dies, or if any more of her crew dies, or if cassandra dies.) she isn’t afraid, she isn’t hurt, she’s angry. the only person she can rely on is herself, and the only person she wants to rely on is herself. she’s not anxious, she’s being smart.

zhan tiri: she loves, and it hurts, and she loves anyway. there is a way to break the circle and she is going to find it; it isn’t over until the end; but nothing lasts but hunger. she has done nothing wrong, ever, in her life. she has so many regrets she could drown in them if she weren’t immortal. she is beautiful, stop screaming.

…and that’s the bedrock of a character. 

every individual action, every specific goal, every thought and feeling, is ultimately guided by the clash between this internal core with the realities of the setting, plot, and choices of other characters. cognitive dissonance between answers #1-3 and answer #4 is a breeding ground for inner conflict, and answers #1-3 are the raw material from which the spine of the character’s arc is sculpted.

[bonus round: this method comes from a scene in the pre-broadway houston run of the musical wonderland, wherein a character poses these questions to alice; her answers are:

#1: “i’m looking for my lost child.*”

*this being both literally her child who is lost but also metaphorically her own sense of wonder and discovery, which she has lost touch with.

#2: “i do! i keep getting in my own way, it’s all i do!”

#3: “i’m trying to figure that out!”

#4: “i’m chloe’s mother. i’m married to jack. these people are my friends. i’m a writer. i’m a teacher. i’m the dreamer of this dream. i’m lots of things; i’m my own invention!”

and when i first listened to this audio i was blown away by just how perfectly this distilled the character of alice down to her purest essentials so i immediately adopted it for character building purposes and i have never looked back because it is simple and it works.

in this scene there is also a fifth question, “what are you afraid of?” (paraphrasing: “losing the people i love”) which i have over time sort of just lumped in with how i answer the other four, because i find it to be less evocative on its own. however, it is useful information to know about a character and i recommend keeping it in mind when answering the other four.]

#[flings writing advice into the void at 5:30 am] hello

[ushidoux]

Hi! Congrats on 1500+!! Your event is sooo cute!

My fav who I self-ship with : Daichi

Myers brigs type : INFP-T

Song that makes me feel like the baddest bitch alive : on a roll - Miley Cyrus

Nicest compliment I’ve ever gotten or something I feel the most proud of : I don’t get complimented that often rip, but something I’m the most proud of is how I always strive and put in the effort to make a good future for myself. I started university when I was 17, I’m double majoring in Elementary and Special Education and preparing to graduate in October. In addition to being a full time college student I was working at a daycare as a teacher in the 1 year olds classroom, and I’m now starting my own candle business as a little side hussle. Sometimes I want to give up and question everything, but I’m so proud of myself for always doing what I want and what I know is best for me, if something isn’t right for me or doesn’t bring me joy, I’m not dealing with it and I’m just gonna keep focusing on me 🥰

Hi!! Thank you and sorry for coming back to this super late :’(((. Thank you so much for following my blog so far! You’re wonderful and I’m happy whenever I see you in my notifs!

Oh em gee, you are an INFP too!!! I feel like we attract each other hehe. While Mediators are supposedly rare, I think they’re easy to spot online especially because it’s a medium where the naturally quiet feel comfortable to speak and exist.

Even if you feel like you don’t get complimented often, I feel like many people see what you have to offer and are impressed. From your many wonderful achievements it’s clear that you are busy, responsible, intelligent and caring and are uniquely talented at balancing many things at once as well as prioritizing. You are a modern-day superhero, and I imagine there are tons of people who look up to you, admire you and also depend on you.

Daichi admires that about you because it is reminiscent of himself, but I think what would intimidate him about you most is the fact that you are so busy and may not be able to prioritize him and your relationship. Not that you wouldn’t, but I can imagine him feeling guilty about the time spent with him rather than on your dreams. However, he should and will get over this quickly, and even better you’ll likely start to embark on projects together!

“It’s perfect here, thank you!”

Daichi finally set down the large package he’d lifted on your behalf about three stories with a quieter thud than you expected and grinned. The box was extremely heavy - a shipment of furniture you planned to build yourself - so you were thankful he had spotted you frowning at the front desk and decided to help, but you also felt responsible for the back pain that would ensue tomorrow.

“That’s quite the package you have there. I wonder if I should alert the authorities,” he teased, his elbow leaning over the top.

You couldn’t help yourself from smiling even though his joke was dreadful.

“I may have forgotten that smuggling was illegal. But it looks like now you’re an accessory to the crime, so I’d suggest you keep quiet.”

He raised an eyebrow, a smirk gracing his features.

“Touché.”

He leaned back off the package and stretched his lower back a bit, leaning back just enough that you could see the very bottom of his abdomen, hinting a glimpse of his abs, as well as the subtle flex of his biceps with his bent elbows. Your face warmed as you realized you’d been looking just a bit too long, and then part of you wondered if he'd done this intentionally.

“Well, I think if there’s nothing else, I’ll leave you to it. Welcome to the building,” he said, moving past you to make his way to the door.

“Thank you so much!” You replied, albeit more awkwardly than you had hoped.

He walked slowly, as though giving you the opportunity to change your mind, while you tried to come up with ways to let the kind stranger know that you were definitely willing to make a friend, especially if they were as cute as him.

“I…,” you started as he swung the door open. He turned to you so quickly you would have thought you were writing him a check.

“You..?” He repeated.

“Would you wanna show me around? I’m new to this place and you seem to be well acquainted and know how things go so-”

“I’d love to,” he gently interrupted. “I’ll come knocking tomorrow at ten.”

And with that came a crush knocking on the door of your heart.

#daichi x reader #daichi sawamura x reader #1500+ follower event! #coolboy-goshiki #mae.writing #mae.replies

[ft-dads-au]

Shelter From the Storm

A collaboration by @mdelpin​ and @oryu404​

Fairy Friendship Week 2020 Prompt: New Friends Pairing(s): Natsu & Romeo, Natsu & Jellal

AO3 | FF.Net

Summary: When Romeo shows up at Crime Sorciere asking to talk, Natsu has no idea what to expect.  He doesn't know him all that well and has no idea how he could possibly be of help, but once he hears what Romeo has to say he is determined to take him under his wing.

August 4, 2020

It was the afternoon lull, the part of his workday when the lunch crowd had returned to their offices, and only a few customers remained, talking over upcoming cases or nursing a loss in court. Natsu usually spent this period cleaning up, restocking the bar, and prepping garnishes for the evening shift. Meredy would often go to the kitchen to help Ultear, their cook, prepare for the evening meals while Jellal slunk into his office, exhausted by the effort of being social.

During this time, the bar was quiet, and that suited Natsu just fine. He still hadn’t fully settled from the botched intervention Gildarts, and Erza had tried to stage for him two days earlier, and Loke’s outburst the previous evening hadn’t helped matters either.

All Natsu wanted was to be left alone, but everyone was determined to make him grieve for his wife their way, refusing to understand that he was trying his best to move forward. How quickly he did that was up to him, not them. Still, he knew there was a point buried within their well-meaning meddling.

“Hey, Natsu?” Jellal called out from his office, “Can you take out the trash? The bags in both the kitchen and the bar look pretty full.”

“Yeah, on it.”

Crap!

He should have done that already. Looking out the window to see that it was raining, he muttered a curse and went off in search of his umbrella. Ten minutes later, he was carrying two large, overly full bags of trash. Meredy opened the door that led out to the alley for him, and he strode outside, holding on to his umbrella as best he could against the pelting rain.

Once again, he muttered a curse, realizing that he’d have to put down the umbrella to get the dumpster open. He felt someone grab the umbrella from his hand and hold it above his head and was astonished to find Romeo Conbolt standing there.

“Romeo? What are you doing here?”

Romeo offered him a small smile, but it wasn’t hard to see something was wrong.

“Can I talk to you?”

This is perfect! Macao just bailed on us, something about Romeo, wasn’t really paying attention...

Natsu recalled the words Gildarts had mentioned in passing on Sunday and had an immediate suspicion that the two things were related. He didn’t know Romeo all that well, had only really talked to him at the Dads Club meetings, but Atlas had taken an immediate liking to him, and they had chatted a few times.

He opened the dumpster and deposited the bags inside, the lid making a loud clank when he urged it shut. Natsu wanted to say he was in the middle of a work shift and suggest they talk later, but he couldn’t get the words out of his mouth. Romeo was soaked, making him realize that whatever the teen wanted to speak to him about was serious enough for him to stand in that smelly alley in the rain, just on the off chance that he would come out. He couldn’t just send him away.

Natsu sighed to himself, hoping Jellal was in a good mood.

“Come on, you’re going to catch your death out here,” he recovered his umbrella and led Romeo inside the building.

Natsu liked working at Crime Sorciere, but he’d never thought the place was all that impressive, so it amused him to see Romeo gawk at it. He led him to one of the booths furthest away from the bar.

“Sit here,” he ordered, “ I’ll be right back.”

“Meredy?” Natsu called out as he entered the storeroom in search of some towels.

“Yeah, what?”

“Can you make a couple of mugs of hot cocoa?”

“You got it!” Meredy replied, and he heard her asking Ultear for help.

Natsu hurried back to Romeo, handing him the towels and fighting off the instinct to help him as he would his own son. He was tempted to turn on the fireplace, but he knew Jellal would have a fit if he did, so the hot cocoa would have to do.

He sat across from the boy, hiding a smile at his awkward attempt to dry himself off. “So, uhm, what brings you here?”

“I don’t know what to do.”

Natsu waited for him to say something more, but Romeo only stared at him with wide, pleading eyes.

“Uhm, should I call your dad for you?”

“NO!” he yelled, and then in a quieter voice, “Please don’t do that.”

“Alright, I won’t call him,” Natsu winced, looking around to see that the remaining customers were openly staring at them. He offered them a confident smile and turned back to Romeo, “But you need to tell me what’s going on, okay?”

Romeo nodded, leaning in towards Natsu, and in a voice so quiet that Natsu had to strain to hear it, he said, “I kinda got a girl pregnant.”

“YOU WHAT?!” It was Natsu’s turn to yell, and once again, everyone’s attention was fixed on them.

“What is going on out here?”

Jellal came out of his office, looking annoyed, and heading straight for Natsu.

“Dragneel,” Jellal stopped in his tracks when he saw who his bartender was sitting with. “Why is there a minor in my bar?”

“Relax, Jellal. He’s not in the bar area. It shouldn’t be a problem.”

Jellal walked to the booth and peered at Romeo. “Hey, aren’t you one of my little sister’s friends?”

“Y-ess, Sir,” Romeo stuttered, looking utterly terrified.

Jellal nudged Natsu to move over and sat down across from Romeo, “How’s she doing? I haven’t seen her in a few weeks.”

“She’s f-fine.”

“She should be at that meeting tonight that I told you about,” Natsu reminded him, “She babysits the kids there. Romeo does too.”

For a moment, Natsu panicked, worrying that the girl he was referring to could possibly be Wendy. Why else would Romeo come to talk to him? Or flip out at Jellal’s presence, for that matter?

“It’s not Wendy,” Romeo blurted out.

“Oh, thank god!” Natsu exclaimed, his relief palpable. The idea of having to mediate between Makarov, Laxus, Gildarts, and all the other members of his rather insane adoptive family over someone they all felt so protective of had terrified the shit out of him. Not to mention Jellal, who was also incredibly protective of his sister.

“What’s not Wendy?” Jellal asked, his curiosity aroused but quickly diverted by Meredy’s arrival. She bore a tray with 3 mugs of hot cocoa and handed one to each of them.

“I put extra whipped cream on yours,” she winked at Jellal before walking away, checking on the remaining customers taking her place behind the bar.

“Uhm…" Natsu peered at Romeo, not wanting to reveal his secret, hoping the boy would do so himself. He could use some backup.

"My girlfriend is pregnant," Romeo explained quietly, eyes glued to the cup of cocoa on the table in front of him.

“You’re like 15! Are you even old enough to get laid?!” Jellal blurted out, and Natsu elbowed him under the table.

"14…“ Romeo squeaked, looking like he could slide under the table at any moment, "I'm 14. My birthday isn’t for another few weeks."

“Christ! Didn’t anyone teach you about protection?!” Jellal scolded.

“We were careful!” Romeo insisted, trying to defend himself against Jellal’s disapproval, but then he lowered his head, and added in a much smaller voice, “most of the time.”

“Most of the time?” Jellal echoed in disbelief.

“Will you stop?” Natsu snapped at Jellal, remembering how terrified he’d been when he’d found out Lisanna was pregnant with Hana, and he’d been several years older. “That seriously isn’t helping.”

Jellal grunted but didn’t say anything else, letting Natsu take the lead.

“So, you wanted to talk to me because I had kids when I was pretty young?” Natsu guessed.

Romeo nodded. "My girlfriend and I both agreed that we want to keep it, but I have no idea what to expect. I tried talking to my dad, but it didn't go too well."

“You probably just caught him by surprise.” Natsu assured him, “I'm sure he'll come around. I mean, he runs a support club for dads, doesn’t he?”

“I dunno about that,” Romeo mumbled, “He was pretty mad…”

“They cry a lot,” Jellal rejoined the conversation, and when both Natsu and Romeo peered at him in confusion, he added with a half shrug, “He wanted to know what to expect.”

“That’s the one thing I remember about Wendy as a baby,” Jellal revealed, “I could never seem to figure out what she wanted, and I remember thinking maybe she was just crying over our parents’ death.”

Natsu stared at his boss for a moment, absorbing what he’d said and shaking his head. “I worry about you.”

Jellal seemed uncomfortable, so Natsu let it go and turned his attention back to Romeo.

“It’s true, infants do cry a lot, but they do a lot of other stuff too,” Natsu agreed, recalling Hana’s first days, even though those types of thoughts brought him more pain than joy these days. “My situation was a little different, though.”

Natsu had been eighteen when Lisanna had gotten pregnant, and they’d already been living together in a small apartment in Edolas. And while he had indeed been absolutely terrified when he’d found out, he’d also had no qualms about asking her to marry him or about working two jobs so that she could stay home with Hana and then Atlas. They’d been unbelievably happy until she’d…

He immediately shut that thought down, the pain too much for him to bear. He felt Jellal squeeze his arm tightly and took a deep breath in an effort to control his tears before they could surface.

“I uh- was a few years older,” he added by way of explanation, hoping Romeo didn’t notice the tremor in his voice. “But probably even more terrified.”

“I don’t think that ever changes,” Jellal commented, “I remember my dad being a nervous wreck while my mom was pregnant with Wendy, and it certainly wasn’t their first go around.”

Natsu was surprised to hear Jellal talk about his parents. It was a topic that he rarely brought up, even though it had been years since they’d died, leaving him to care for his baby sister.

“So it’s okay to be scared?”

Both Natsu and Jellal laughed at that, although it was Natsu who responded. “I’d probably be more worried if you weren’t.”

“I’ll be honest with you- “ Natsu gently placed a hand on Romeo’s arm, “You’re already more prepared than I was. I had zero idea what I was doing until Hana was born, and even then, it took me a few weeks to get the hang of it. That class you took for the club already taught you most of what you need to know, and I’ve seen you with the kids. You’re a natural.”

“But I’m not going to sugarcoat it for you, either,” he warned, “Your life is going to change. Babies aren’t cheap. There are diapers and wipes to buy, and food, not to mention clothes. You’re going to need to get a job to afford these things. Even though I know a lot of us will be more than happy to help out however we can.”

“And be prepared for a lot of sleepless nights,” Jellal added. “You’ll be up feeding, changing, soothing, and worrying.”

“That’s right,” Natsu conceded, “But in all honesty, the best advice I can give you is this. If you can possibly manage it, don’t drop out of school like I did. That’s my one regret. Because of that one choice I made at seventeen, I sabotaged not only my future but my kids' as well.”

Romeo nodded weakly, eyes tearing up. “I knew it was going to be a lot, but-.”

Before he could get anything more out, he began to shake, and this time Natsu was pretty sure it had nothing to do with the state of his clothes, and he tried to backtrack, realizing much too late that they had overwhelmed the poor kid.”

“Listen, you might still be young-” “Very,” Jellal emphasized, earning him another elbow from Natsu. “You might still be young,” Natsu tried again, “but I think it’s incredibly brave of you to step up and take this responsibility. I know it sounds like a lot right now, but you have months to prepare before the baby is born. You can do this!”

“Natsu’s right, and you shouldn’t worry too much about making mistakes either. We all do,” Jellal assured Romeo. “Oh, and never shy away from asking for help when you need it, even if it means letting someone else take care of the baby until you can do it yourself like I did.”

“You’re still doing it,” Natsu reminded him with a shove, “Gramps is the one who takes care of Wendy, not your overgrown ass.”

“She’s happy there!” Jellal protested, “And I give him money every week to help.”

“Which he doesn’t accept,” Natsu reminded him, rolling his eyes at how stubborn both men were. “You might as well-”

“No!” Romeo interrupted their banter, “I can do it.”

His tone was forceful, but there was something about it that felt off to Natsu. It made him think that Romeo hadn’t told them everything, and he got the distinct impression that Romeo wouldn’t want to discuss whatever it was. Not yet, anyway.

“Of course you can!” Natsu was quick to reassure him. He grabbed the notepad he used to jot down long drink orders out of the pocket of his half apron and wrote his phone number on it in neat numbers. Ripping the page, he handed it over to Romeo.

“You can always come to me for help.” Natsu gave him what he hoped was an encouraging smile, “Teen dads have to stick together, right?”

Romeo took the piece of paper and stared at the numbers for a full minute. He then looked at Natsu with eyes full of gratitude and admiration.

“I knew you were the right person to talk to!”

“That’s our Natsu,” Jellal teased, grabbing Natsu in a headlock and ruffling his hair, “an inspiration to one and all.”

He knew Jellal’s words were meant in jest, but after months of wallowing in self-pity and being on the receiving end of everyone else’s best intentions, he had to admit it felt good to help someone out. To know that he could pay all his friends’ efforts forward.

It also made him realize something else. He and the kids weren’t the only ones who had lost Lisanna. Mira, Elfman, and even Erza had too. Maybe it was time he stopped shutting them out so they could grieve together and become a family again.

#ftdadsau #ftguildevents #natsu dragneel #romeo conbolt #jellal fernandes #fairy tail #Fairy Friendship Week 2020 #natsu & romeo #natsu & jellal #introducing jellal! #prompt: new friends #fics

[theamberwriter]

Haircuts [2p!Canada||Matt Williams]

Pairing: 2p!Canada/Matt Williams x Reader

Word Count: 2028

Warnings: Cursing

A/N: This is the only thing I ever actually wrote for 2p!Canada, but he was my favourite back in the day! I know Hetalia has hit its peak already. But I still like posting some of my old stuff. 

“Ar-Are you sure you wanna do this, Mattie?” you asked quietly. You had scissors poised around your boyfriend’s cute little ponytail, he was determined to have it hacked off. 

“Yeah, I’m sure. Just cut it off already,” he grunted, you heard the wooden stool he was on groan as he dug in his fingers.

Your hand with the scissors twitched, you really didn’t want to do this. You loved his silky, dirty blonde hair how it was. You thought he did too, what triggered the sudden change of heart? 

You pulled the scissors away and sighed, “Does this have to do with what Al said earlier?”

Matt stayed silent, and you could only imagine the scowl on his face. Al had been making fun of Matt’s ponytail all week. You rolled your eyes, your shoulders slumping some. Of course this was because of Al. “I like your hair the way it is – besides, it’s real fun to grab onto –”

Matt interrupted you bitterly, “How many of your First Player guy friends have ponytails?” 

You flinched, why did he always have to bring them into this? You couldn’t help that you were the go-between for the First and Second Players! Hell, it was because of your relationship with Matt (and the fact that you got along with basically everyone) that you were delegated the pain-in-ass job as a mediator/babysitter. 

You stuttered, trying frantically to think over your friends. “Yao –”

“That prick doesn’t count,” growled the blonde.

You sighed, of course he didn’t. You then tried frantically to think of any other of your friends, but none came right off the bat. “Francois has a ponytail, and Al’s never said anything to him.”

“Alain doesn’t have the balls to,” spat Matt, using the French variant of ‘Allen’ to spite Al (even though he wasn’t there). “Even though we’re countries, Oliver and Francois are the closest things to father figures we have. Al’ll never admit it, but Francois scares ‘im shitless – now just cut the Goddamn thing off!”

You whined in the back of your throat as you slowly raised the scissors again. “Once it’s done, it’s done, Matt – you’ll have to wait for it to grow back out –”

“Just…just do it, Maple.” Matt glanced over his shoulder at you, and you could see the silent pleading in his usually unreadable violet eyes. You sighed again, and then gave his shoulder a light squeeze.

“Well,” you muttered, “here goes…”

You tugged on his ponytail, and then began to saw through just above the elastic. You grimaced the whole time, this was killing you inside. You could have screamed when the clump of hair finally came off in your hand. It was like you’d just cut off his finger or his toe. That ponytail was just as much a part of him as they were. 

You stood in front of Matt, dangling his ponytail in front of his face. Awkwardly, he ran his hand through his hair, his face taking on a strange expression as it stopped abruptly at the nape of his neck. You, however, couldn’t stand the haircut.

“Omigod, you look exactly like Matthew…!” you panicked, it wasn’t that you didn’t like Matt’s First Player but – Mathieu was your boyfriend, not Matthew. 

Aside from the beard scruff, the lighter tone of dark blonde, and the darker purple of his irises, Matt was the spitting image of the shy Canadian. The ponytail had always given Matt a certain character to him, which made him look different than Matthew. With the way it pulled his hair back, it gave a little more framing to his face making his cheekbones and squarer jaw more prominent. 

Also, you found he looked a little more badass with the three-inch-long ponytail bobbing at the nape of his neck. Not to mention, since he had long hair, it was a lot more fun to run your hands through and pull during sex (which you had eluded to earlier, but been completely disregarded).

“Are you fucking kidding me?” groaned Matt, his shoulders tensing as he rolled his neck to glower at the ceiling of the manor.

“I – I can always try and cut it shorter. Like Al’s or Oliver’s – if you want,” you suggested, swallowing to try and moisten your dry throat.

Matt slowly lowering his gaze to your form. With another hand through his disconcertingly short hair, the Canadian sighed. “Well, Maple, we’ve already cut it this short – might as well. Can’t go walking around lookin’ like that flapjack, now can I? – Besides, I might get jealous if we fucked while I looked like him.”

Your cheeks filled with heat at his final statement. Matt gave you a smirk, and then you pulled to stand between his legs. With his arms around your middle, he looked up at you. “Now, what’s say we get my hair shorter and then do a test run.”

He chuckled at your increased embarrassment and then released you after kissing you gently. An idea struck you, then. And you ran off to find the electric razor. After digging through three closets, you finally found it. Once back in the kitchen, you put on the longest extension and turned it on. The pulled the razor through most of Matt’s hair, leaving the back and around the sides about an inch long. 

“Just don’t. Cut. The. Curl,” warned Matt as you put away the razor and brought back the scissors. 

You laughed, rolling your eyes. “I know, I know, Mattie. Besides, why would I want to? It’s so much fun to pull.”

A low growl came from Matt at your last sentence, you often used that curl to your advantage. Especially when you thought he was being too soft with you, which Matt made a habit of. Sure, you were his little Maple Leaf but you weren’t delicate. You were an adult after all!

You carefully avoided the curl springing forth from an unknown position in Matt’s scalp as you began to chop away at his remaining long hair. Once it was shorter, you discovered his hair became kind of an unruly wavy. You tried to trim his hair to match the back and left the top and front of his hair about two or three inches long. When you were done, you stood in front of Matt and combed your fingers through to style it. Not too shabby for your first try.

You smiled as you finished and admired your work. Matt ran his hand through it, feeling it. You could tell he found it disconcerting. But you also had to admit, he looked kind of sexy like this. “C’mon, hot stuff, let’s go check out your new do in the mirror.”

Matt chuckled as you tugged on his arm and lead him to the closest powder room. You wouldn’t let him in just yet though and kept the light off. “Are you ready?”

“Yes, now can we get this over with? I have loose hair in my shirt, and it’s driving me crazy,” groaned the blonde, moving his shoulders uncomfortably in his shirt. You laughed and then tugged him into the large room. 

“Annnd, voila!” you cheered, flipping on the light. 

Matt seemed utterly surprised as he stared at the mirror. He glared at first at the man by your side, only to realize that it was himself. Then Matt slowly leaned on the sink bowl, getting closer to his reflection. He ran a hand through his short hair, twirling some of the strands between his fingers. All he muttered was a low ‘wow.’

“So…do you like it?” you asked slowly, leaning your face on Matt’s arm. His eyes went to you in the reflection; he shrugged after a moment.

“It’s s’okay,” he said, there was a slight pout in his voice.

You smiled at him sweetly. “Regretting it?”

His violet eyes went back to staring at his short hair. “Big time. I already can’t wait to be able to put it back in a ponytail.”

  You giggled, running your own hand through it. “Well, it’ll take some getting used to. That’s all – now, we should probably go get that hair out of your shirt.”

Matt did a double-take at you in the mirror as your words sank in. A slow grin appearing on his face. “That’s right. I promised you a test run. Didn’t I, Maple Leaf?”

Before you could blink, you were over the blonde’s shoulder and headed towards his bathroom on the second floor. Thank God everybody else was out for the day.

It wasn’t until later in the evening that you wobbled your way down the stairs, your shaking legs trying to hold you up. That was a lot more than a test run, you mentally noted. You were able to walk halfway correctly by the time you got to the kitchen – Matt didn’t believe in lunch breaks, so you were starving.

“Well, by the looks of it, somebody had some fun today,” teased Al from the breakfast nook, he sat backwards on a chair. You dug through the fridge, rolling your eyes and not even bothering to respond. 

“Allen, be nice,” warned Oliver from his place at the stove. “And [Name], make sure to leave room for dinner.”

You smiled at the strawberry blonde as you took something from the fridge. You placed it on the counter before hauling yourself up on to it. “I know, Ollie.”

“Say, where’s Ponytail?” asked Al abruptly. Francois grunted almost unnoticeably from behind his newspaper, you could tell that he was annoyed by Al’s taunts. – Even if they weren’t aimed at him

“Right here, shit stain,” growled Matt’s voice. You looked over to see Matt with a smirk. He was standing in the entryway rolling up the sleeves on his red flannel.

All was silent as the other three men turned to look at Matt. He casually went over to you, though, and stole some of what you were eating. The blonde leaned against the counter between your legs. 

“Oh my word…” you heard Oliver mutter, nearly dropping what was in his hands. Even Francois moved the paper to raise an eyebrow.

“What the fuck did you do to your hair?” blurted Al, his shit-eating grin entirely gone now as he gawked. 

“I had [Name] cut it for me,” said Matt coolly, shrugging his shoulders. You ran your fingers through Matt’s tiny tendrils and then kissed it.

“I don’t know about you guys,” you started. “But I like Matt’s short hair.”

“I – oh, it is very nice,” said Oliver, quickly composing himself and going back to making dinner. “Just…diff –”

“Ponytail-less,” finished Al as he got up and walked to stand before his brother. 

His crimson eyes scrutinized him for a moment; all Matt did was raise an eyebrow. Al laughed then, giving Matt a crooked smile and showing off his missing tooth. He then ruffled Matt’s hair, which immediately went back into place. Al did this quite a few times. He used to like to mess up Matt’s hair, and take out his hair tie.

“What’s the matter, Alain?” teased Matt, this time it was him giving the shit-eating grin.

“Fuck off, dip shit,” growled Al, his face falling, all sense of teasing gone. With that, Al stalked off – apparently unappreciative of his brother ruining his fun. Moments later you heard a distant door slam shut.

In the midst of it all, you heard Francois make an amused sound and noticed a little smirk as his eyes followed Al out of the room. You two caught eyes and exchanged little flashes of knowing smiles before he raised the paper again. You kissed the side of Matt’s head again before finishing what you were eating. 

So Francey Pants did have the smallest amount of fatherly affection in him towards Matt. Not to mention you’d put a stop to the ponytail taunts, so Francois wasn’t resembled in them anymore. It was just a bonus that it pissed off Al. Honestly, this was going to be fun.

~*~

#2ptalia #2p aph #2p canada #2p america #2p england #2p france #2p face #2p face family #hetalia #hetalia imagine #hetalia fan fiction #2ptalia imagine #hetalia x reader #2ptalia x reader #2p canada x reader #2p!Canada #2p!Canada x reader #2p!canda/reader #2ptalia /reader #fanfiction #fan fiction #fan fic stuff #fanfiction prompt #fan fic ideas #fan fic prompts #fan fic #theamberwriter

[bestillmyslashyheart]

The Red Name pt 2

part one

For someone who had to watch the love of his life be happy with someone else, Max was feeling pretty okay most days. He knew he loved Liz, the mark on his chest didn’t change that. It didn’t change much of anything if he was being honest. No, he was doing all right. It was the rest of his world that had gone to shit.

Max had never fully appreciated the role Isobel played for ten years in keeping the three of them together. Without her, he and Michael would have fallen apart years ago with little hope of reconciliation. Now, it was his turn to play mediator with his siblings and he couldn’t help but feel like he was failing at it. In the month or so since the marks appeared, since Isobel opened her shirt to reveal Michael’s girlfriend’s name imprinted on her skin, things between them had been...tense. Max wasn’t entirely sure they’d spoken since then.

There was the gentle thud of a body collapsing on one of his chairs and Max looked up to see Alex’s slumped form sprawled across the counter to his right. Wordlessly, he poured a cup of coffee and slid it across until it nudged Alex’s arm. Alex hissed as a splash of coffee spilled out over the rim at the collision. He didn’t bother wiping it off, instead just grabbing the coffee and taking a generous sip, heedless of the burn.

“Thanks,” he muttered when he put it down.

“Breakfast will be ready in five,” Max replied.

Alex shook his head. “I’ve gotta get to work.” He took another large sip. “Still gotta go home and change.”

“Can’t spare a few minutes to shove some food in your mouth?”

Alex looked at him then at the stove then back at him. “I’ll stop at McDonald’s.”

“Hey!” Max yelled, not offended in the least. He was self aware enough to know his cooking left something to be desired. His eggs weren’t that bad though.

“Max!” Alex’s whole body tensed at Michael’s shout. The door slammed shut a moment later and they both sat in silence listening to Michael’s footsteps across the house. “Do you know what’s going on with this thi- Alex?” 

Max watched Michael skid to a stop at the sight of the man hunched over his kitchen counter same as he watched Alex close his eyes and let a little tension seep out of him at Michael’s voice. Try as he might, as many late night drunken conversations as they had, Max would never understand their relationship.

“Morning, Michael,” he greeted instead. “Breakfast?”

Alex chugged the rest of his coffee and stood up. “Thanks for the coffee, Max.” He shoved the mug across the counter back to him before turning around. For a second, neither one of them moved. They just stood staring at each other across the room before finally Alex forced himself into motion. “Michael,” he nodded to him as he brushed past him. The front door shut softly a moment later.

“What the hell was Alex doing here?” Michael glared at him. There was a look in his eyes that Max had never seen before. On anyone else Max would have called it jealousy or betrayal or even pained rage but Michael had never been one to get jealous. Not even when Maria’s name showed up on Isobel.

“He had too much to drink last night so he stayed over,” Max answered.

“Since when are you two drinking buddies?”

Max shrugged and turned the stove off. “Turns out we have some things in common. It’s not exactly easy to see the love of your life be happy with someone else. It’s lonely but we both get it so we’ve been commiserating.”

“Don’t,” Michael barked.

Max looked up. “Don’t what? Don’t talk to Alex? You don’t really get a say in that, Michael.” He plated the eggs and grabbed some bacon for each plate. Michael didn’t say he was staying but he’d never turned down a free meal. He carried both over to the table and set one in front of where Michael was still standing.

“Don’t call me the love of his life,” Michael ground out as he pulled the chair out to sit down.

Max paused on his way to the fridge and glanced over his shoulder. “Why? It’s the truth. If you think it isn’t you’re lying to yourself.” He grabbed the salsa and joined Michael at the table. Silently, they ate their breakfast, the only words spoken being when Michael asked him to pass the salsa.

“What’d you come over here for?” Max asked as he started doing the dishes.

“I don’t remember,” Michael was quiet. He stood up to leave. “Don’t- don’t hang out with Alex. It’s weird.”

“And here I thought you’d want us to get along.” That earned him another glare as Michael turned and left.

He barely had a moment alone before his phone started ringing, Isobel’s name flashing on the screen.

“Hey, Iz,” he answered.

“Have you seen Michael?” She didn’t bother with a ‘hello’. 

“Yeah, he just left. Why?” 

Isobel let out a breath. “Liz called. Apparently Maria hasn’t seen him in a few days.”

“You could have tried calling him. He had his phone on him.” Isobel didn’t say anything. “Iz, you two can’t just not talk to each other.”

She scoffed. “Says you.” She hung up.

Max tossed the phone onto the counter with a groan. How in the hell did Isobel keep them together for so many years?

---

“Why do I feel like the bad guy here?” Maria flopped onto her bed with a groan. “I mean, I’m not being unreasonable, right?”

Rosa eased onto the bed next to her with considerable more grace, if she did say so herself. “You’re not. It’s a shitty situation.”

“He loves me, I know he does,” Maria continued as if she hadn’t spoken. “And I love him so much but I just- I can’t- you know we haven’t had sex since the damn marks appeared?” Rosa sat up and looked at her. “We tried but the second he took his shirt off and I saw Alex’s name I had to get out of there. Next time we tried with his shirt on but all I could think about is why he had his shirt on and I couldn’t. I keep- I want Liz to be right, I want the marks to not mean anything, to not let it dictate my life but-”

“But it’s there and you can’t ignore it,” Rosa finished for her when she trailed off.

“Yeah,” Maria sighed.

“So now what?”

“I don’t know,” Maria groaned into her hands. “How can I be with him when I know he loves Alex more? Fuck! Do you remember how dark the mark is? It’s darker than Max’s.” Rosa didn’t say anything. She was acutely aware of just how much Max loved her sister but she didn’t think Maria needed it pointed out to her right now. 

“But you love him,” Rosa reminded her.

“I do,” Maria nodded. “I really do. And I have loved being with him and I want to continue to be with him, for the rest of my life if I could.”

“Then find a way to look past the mark,” Rosa advised. “Liz was right, a trick of alien genetics shouldn’t get to dictate your life.”

Maria didn’t say anything. For a long while, they just sat and stared at the ceiling. Eventually, Rosa pulled out a joint and they passed it back and forth.

“I want him to be happy,” Maria admitted quietly. “That’s all I want.”

“He is happy, Maria,” Rosa told her. “A blind man could see it.”

“But what if he could be happier?” She let her head roll to the side to look at her. “What if I’m holding him back from being really, truly happy? What if Alex is the key to that and I’m just standing in their way?”

Rosa pushed up onto her elbows and looked at her. “I missed like all of the Michael and Alex relationship drama-”

“We all missed it,” Maria told her.

“Ok fine, so no one really knows what’s going on with them,” Rosa allowed. “But what I do know? What I’ve seen? Is that they fucked it up. Them. Both of them. Not you. If Michael wanted to be with Alex, then I’m sure he would be but he wants to be with you. You’re not standing in the way of their happiness, Maria. If anyone is, I think it’s Michael. And Michael chose you.”

Maria blinked up at her slowly. “And he broke Alex’s heart to do it.”

Rosa sighed. “Yeah. He did. And so did you.” Maria looked away. “It sucks but it’s the truth and you know it.”

“If I’d just pushed Michael away, this all could’ve been avoided.”

“Maybe,” Rosa agreed. “But do you think you would’ve been happier not knowing? Even if it all crashes and burns, at least you know. You don’t have to wonder what you and he could’ve been.”

“I’d still have Alex,” Maria replied. “I wouldn’t have lost my best friend over a guy.”

Rosa hugged her. “He’s not just a guy though, is he? He’s the love of your life.”

Maria didn’t say anything as Rosa stroked her hair. “I don’t know that he is,” she murmured into Rosa’s shirt. “I love him and I could be happy with him for the rest of my life but I don’t know that he’s it, you know?” 

Rosa stilled her hand. “What do you mean?”

Maria sat up and Rosa let her hands fall away. “I mean...what does that really mean? Love of my life? ‘The one’?” She put up air quotes. “Does it mean the one and only? The only person I can be happy with? The person I care about above and beyond all others? The one who has ruined me for anyone else?”

Rosa shrugged. “Yeah? I think so?”

“Then I don’t know if that’s Michael.” Maria shook her head and wrapped her arms around herself. “I love him,” she repeated. “And losing him would hurt and it would suck but I’d be okay. I know if we break up that I could move on and be happy with someone else eventually. It would take a while and it would suck so much but I know that eventually I could do it. I don’t- if Michael was trapped in a burning building with my mom and you and Liz, I don’t know that I’d look for him first? I love him but not at the expense of anyone else. I just- shouldn’t he be more? Shouldn’t it feel like I can’t survive without him?”

Rosa didn’t know what to say. 

“Max killed himself to bring you back because he knew what it would mean for Liz and Alex signed himself up for more years of service and another possible deployment to keep Michael safe and I just- I don’t know that I would be willing to do something like that for Michael.” She turned to Rosa. “Shouldn’t I? Isn’t that what it means?”

“I don’t think it needs to be all consuming,” Rosa said hesitantly. She was really not the best person to give this speech. “I think it’s more important that you make each other happy and that you support each other and love each other. I mean, Max and Alex made grand gestures but ultimately, Liz and Michael both chose to be with someone else. Someone who is steady and supportive and who love them as much as they love you and Kyle. It’s the day to day stuff more than the big moments, right?”

“Yeah,” Maria agreed quietly but Rosa could tell she wasn’t quite on board. They finished off the joint in silence.

“You talk to Isobel yet?” Rosa had to ask.

“No,” Maria denied immediately. “And I’m perfectly fine keeping it that way.”

“You should probably talk to her at some point. She has your name,” Rosa pointed out.

“And that’s her problem. I’m not responsible for her feelings.” Maria pushed off of the bed in a huff. “It does suck for Michael, though. He doesn’t know what to do with it and I don’t think he’s spoken to her since.”

“Yeah I bet that’s a little awkward. But then again he doesn’t have your name so it could’ve been worse.” Maria picked up a pillow and pelted her with it. Rosa snatched it out of the air and threw it back. She laughed as it bounced off of Maria’s face. “Okay, okay, I won’t talk about Isobel anymore.”

“Thank you,” Maria huffed. She looked around her. “Where’s my phone?”

Rosa looked at Maria’s purse lying right next to her on the bed, her phone falling out as it lay on its side. “Uh, you okay?” Maria looked at her then at her purse and huffed again. She scooped it up and checked her phone. Rosa watched her face fall. “Still nothing from Michael?”

Maria shook her head. “I don’t know where he is. It’s been days.”

“He’ll be home soon,” Rosa assured her. “He’s probably just processing.”

“Yeah,” Maria agreed sardonically. “Processing. Weeks after it all happened he suddenly needs to disappear into thin air to figure it all out. Makes total sense.”

“Maria,” Rosa said calmly.

“I know,” she groaned. “But we’re all processing, okay? And we all manage not to just up and vanish.” Just then her phone rang. She grabbed it quickly before sighing in disappointment. “Hey, Liz,” she answered. “He was? Okay thanks.” She hung up. Rosa raised an eyebrow in question. “Michael was apparently just at Max’s.”

“Liz talked to Max?” Rosa was surprised. She was pretty sure her sister was avoiding any one-on-one contact with the man at the moment.

Maria shook her head. “She asked Isobel but Isobel isn’t talking to Michael at the moment so she called Max.”

Rosa shook her head. “You all need to figure this shit out. We can’t keep playing phone tree to talk to each other. What if something happens?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Maria tossed the phone in her purse. “I’m going to go home and take a very long, very hot shower and hopefully relax. Or something.” She gave Rosa a little wave and left.

---

Maria was really looking forward to that shower. Too bad she wasn’t going to get it. At least, not yet.

Michael was home when she walked in. She’d seen the truck outside but she hadn’t really believed it until she saw him standing in the bedroom.

“What is this?” She stared at the open boxes and the half filled suitcase. Michael didn’t look at her as he emptied out a drawer. “Michael!”

He stopped, a t-shirt balled up between his hands. “We both know this was coming.”

Maria opened her mouth but nothing came out. She tried again. “I’m feeling pretty blindsided for someone who apparently knew this was coming. I don’t see or hear from you for days and now you’re packing your stuff? Did I miss a conversation?”

Michael shook his head and stood up. He was wearing an old plaid shirt with only about half of the buttons done up. It wasn’t unusual for Michael, it was honestly how he always dressed, but he’d been buttoning his shirt correctly the last few weeks and Maria got a vivid reminder as to why. The shirt gaped open slightly as he turned to her and Alex’s name was still there. She looked away.

“Maria, you can’t even look at me,” Michael said softly. “We don’t have sex, you flinch when I touch you, what did you expect?”

And just like that she was angry. The last month she’d buried the anger under the hurt and the confusion but it was rising within her with a fury. “What did I expect? I expected you to be honest with me! I expected you to talk to me! I expected you to love me!” She let out a shuddering breath. “What would you have done if I hadn’t come home just now? Would you have said anything? Or just let me come home to all of your stuff gone?”

He looked away.

“So this is it, huh? A year of our lives just down the drain.” A few tears fell onto her cheeks but she brushed them off. “Did this mean anything to you?”

“Of course it did! Maria, I love you!” Michael took a step towards her, earnestness written plainly on his face. “I don’t want this to end but I don’t know how it can’t.”

“So talk to me!”

He swallowed and nodded. “Ok. Let’s talk. Can you ever get past the mark? Will you ever be able to kiss me or touch me or have sex with me with it there? Because it’s not going away and it’s not going to change.”

Maria felt the last little bit of her heart break. “It’s not going to change?” She repeated.

Michael sighed. “I looked through the file Kyle gave us. According to the prisoners at Caulfield, no one’s mark ever changed once it appeared. I don’t know why but it didn’t.”

She didn’t want to know but she had to ask- “and if it could, would it? Would you ever love me more?”

Michael didn’t answer.

“Fucking hell, Michael, why are we together?” She wanted to rage but she suddenly didn’t have the energy for it. “If you love him so much, why be with me?”

“Just because I love him doesn’t mean I want to be with him. Love isn’t everything.”

Maria scoffed. “Maybe not everything but it’s not nothing. He’s- hell, he’s basically your soulmate.” Michael flinched. “And you knew that.” She let out a watery laugh. “You knew that from the very beginning and you lied to me. I asked you, repeatedly, if you still loved him, if you cared about him, if you had any romantic feelings for him at all and you said no. You denied it every time.” She shrugged helplessly. “Why?”

“Because if I told you the truth you wouldn’t be with me,” he admitted quietly. “And I love you, Maria. I want to be with you. I love being with you.”

She nodded slowly. “But you love him more. And you will always love him more.”

“That’s not important.”

“Fuck you! It is important. To me and to Alex! Have you thought about what you’re doing to him?”

Michael glared. “I didn’t do it alone.”

“No,” she agreed easily. “I played my part in wrecking our friendship and hurting him and I will never be able to make that up to him but dammit Michael I’m not the love of his life. I’m not the one who loves him more than anything and then said it wasn’t enough.” She paused. “Does he even know? Has anyone told him you have his name?”

“Yeah, he knows,” Michael told her. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Stop saying that! It matters!”

“No, it doesn’t! Love doesn’t mean anything. Love didn’t stop him from walking away again and again and again. Love didn’t stop his family from murdering my mother. Love didn’t stop his father from smashing a hammer into my hand.” Maria gasped. She’d never heard the true story of how Michael’s hand got broken. Michael shook his head and took a step back. “Yeah, okay, I love him more than anything. So what?”

“And love didn’t stop you from breaking his heart and moving on with his best friend,” Maria added quietly. Michael closed his eyes. “The hurt doesn’t just go one way, Michael. You hurt him too.”

“Yeah,” he agreed. “But hey, I love him so it’s all okay right?”

“No! It’s worse because you can hurt him more than anyone else just like he can hurt you!” He opened his mouth to reply but she put her hand up. “But I don’t want to talk about you and Alex, I want to talk about you and me.” She closed her eyes briefly. “Michael, I love you.”

“I love you, too,” he replied automatically.

“But I don’t want you to be with me because you love me less.”

“That’s not why,” he protested.

“No?” She arched an eyebrow. “Correct me if I’m wrong here but part of what you love about being with me is that it’s comfortable and easy. We don’t fight, not really, and we don’t hurt each other.” She paused. “You’re with me because I can’t hurt you like he can. And that- that’s not good enough for me.”

“Maria, I’m with you because I love you and being with you makes me happy.”

“You could be happier with him,” Maria countered. The tears were falling freely now. “I don’t- Michael I don’t make you laugh,” she sighed. “The biggest smiles I’ve ever seen on your face have come when you’re with Isobel or Liz. I can’t imagine how big you’d smile if you had a few minutes of peace with Alex.”

He worked his jaw. “Okay, so you don’t make me laugh. You don’t make me cry, either. Not like he does.”

“Isn’t that what it’s supposed to be, though? The highest highs and the lowest lows?”

“I don’t want that,” he denied with a shake of his head. “I don’t want the lowest lows. I want to be content.”

Maria nodded slowly. “And I want more than content.”

“Maria-” he reached for her but she stepped out of his grasp.

“You asked me if I could ever get over it. The mark. If I could ever kiss you and touch you and sleep with you knowing and seeing that it’s there and I’m sorry, Michael, I don’t think I can. I can’t be with you when the writing on your skin tells me every day that I’m second best. And I am, you just said so yourself,” she cut off his objection. “You will always love Alex more. And I can’t- and I won’t compete with that.” She looked around the room at his boxes and suitcase. “I’m going to go to the bar. I’m guessing you’re headed to Max’s?”

Michael nodded. “I’m sorry.”

“Are you? For what?”

He blinked. “That it’s ending.”

“Michael, I’m ending it. You don’t need to apologize. The only apology I want from you is for lying to me about your feelings for Alex and I don’t think you’re ever going to apologize for that, are you? Because you’d do it again, wouldn’t you?” 

“I just wanted to be happy,” his voice was barely a murmur. Maria blinked back her tears and crossed the room slowly. When she reached Michael she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and hugged him tight.

“I want you to be happy,” she told him. “But it can’t be with me because I want to be happy too.”

“We were happy together,” he reminded her.

“We were,” she agreed. “But that was based on a lie. And now that I know it, I can’t do it anymore.” She pressed a kiss to his neck and pulled away. “I won’t be home until late so you should have plenty of time to pack up everything.”

---

“I come bearing donuts!” Isobel kicked the door closed behind her. It was early but she had a busy schedule today so she was trying to get this out of the way fast.

“Did you get those ones with the creme filling?” Max asked as she walked into the kitchen. He’d clearly just woken up, the imprint of the pillow crease still evident on his face. 

“No, Max, she suddenly forgot your favorite type of donut after 20 years,” Michael sassed from behind her. Isobel tensed involuntarily. He reached past her and grabbed a chocolate glazed donut before retreating. Max glared at him over her shoulder before grabbing one of his precious creme filled donuts. 

It had been three weeks since Michael and Maria broke up and Michael moved into Max’s spare room. In those three weeks, Max had begged Isobel to come over at least once for breakfast and once for dinner each week. It was his version of forced bonding, she supposed. 

“So,” Michael asked as he fell back into a chair. He was wearing a t-shirt with his boxers and it suddenly struck Isobel that she had no idea when the last time she’d seen his bare chest was. For someone who hated buttons and preferred to sleep in as little clothing as possible, it was odd. But she could understand it. Isobel couldn’t remember the last time she looked at herself in the mirror without clothes on. 

She grabbed a donut of her own and a napkin before settling into a chair opposite Michael, Max settling somewhere between them as he often did these days. “So?” She prompted when Michael didn’t continue.

“Maria,” he said simply.

Isobel froze briefly before forcing herself to act normal. “How are things between you these days?”

Max looked between them warily as Michael polished off his donut. He summoned another one from the box and leaned forward to catch it. “We’re done. Over. Finito.” He licked some glaze off of his finger. “What about you?”

“Me?” She swallowed. “I haven’t spoken to her in months.”

“Why not?”

She dropped the donut to glare at him. “You know damn well why not.”

“You know, I really don’t.”

“No?” She arched an eyebrow. “How’s Alex? Talk to him any time recently?” Michael clenched his jaw but didn’t answer. “And Liz?” She turned to Max. “How’s she doing these days?” Max looked away too. “Oh look, we’re all fucked up!”

“Izzy,” Michael said lowly. 

“What, Michael? What do you want?”

“Maria?”

Isobel closed her eyes. “What do you want me to say? It’s nothing, okay? I get her name on my skin for what will apparently be the rest of my life and it means nothing.”

“As I have been recently informed, quite loudly I might add, it means something,” Michael told her quietly.

She scoffed. “It means that I spent months working through the madness of what Noah did to me, trying to untangle what I thought I felt for him from what I might maybe have actually felt and the closest I ever came to understanding is when I spent time with Maria. She- she helped me through it in ways I still don’t understand but what I do know is I spent so long trying to figure out what love actually felt like because apparently I’ve been wrong my whole life and I finally start to get an idea only it’s my brother’s girlfriend and I can’t actually process that, okay? It means that I care about her but I know that she’ll never feel that way about me and even if she did I can’t do anything about it because you love her.” She shook her head. “It means nothing, okay? Nothing good and nothing worth dwelling on.” She finished her donut. “Grab me another?” She asked Michael and her second donut came flying into the room a moment later. “Thanks.”

They finished off their donuts in silence.

As she was headed for the door, Michael finally said, “you have her name, Izzy.”

“I fucking know th-” Isobel whirled on him.

“It means something,” Michael cut her off. “And if at some point in the future you two get to the point where it might become something? Don’t let me stop you. Please. You have her name, Isobel. Not me. So don’t let my feelings get in the way of yours.”

Isobel stared at him, disbelieving. “What?”

“She and I are done, Isobel. Primarily because I couldn’t love her enough,” he admitted. “You won’t have that problem. She’ll never doubt how you feel. Now I can’t speak for how she feels but whatever happens between you two, don’t let me be a factor. Please. I don’t want to ruin that for you.”

Isobel shook her head. “It doesn’t matter, she doesn’t-”

“Maybe not right now,” Michael agreed. He smiled sadly. “But who knows what the future brings, right?” Isobel just shook her head again and Michael finally just grabbed her by the hand and pulled her into a hug. Isobel sank into it immediately, her arms wrapping tightly around his neck as he held her close. She’d always loved Michael’s hugs, the way he made her feel safe. In the past few months, she’d sorely missed them.

“Thank you,” she whispered into his neck.

“You’re welcome,” he replied. “Though it’s really not something you need to thank me for.”

“Thank you for being my brother.”

“Always, Izzy. Always.”

---

She was supposed to be at work. She’d already spent too long at Max’s house, unable to pull herself away from Michael’s embrace, and now she was headed in the opposite direction of her office on a fool’s errand practically guaranteed to blow up in her face. Isobel hurried into one store after another until she had everything and then she drove straight to Maria’s apartment before she could second guess herself.

Maria opened the door after the second round of knocking. Her eyes were bloodshot and the way she squinted at the sunlight told Isobel that she’d just woken up. Whatever sleepiness she was feeling fled instantly at the sight of Isobel, though. 

“Hi,” Isobel greeted brightly before shoving her way inside. Maria didn’t even try to block her, just stepped out of her way as she breezed through to the kitchen and dropped the bags on the table.

“What are you doing here?” Maria’s voice was rough with sleep but even that couldn’t hide the trepidation in her tone.

Isobel ignored it. “I have movies and chocolate and junk food and wine.” She started pulling everything out of the bag until Maria grabbed her wrist.

“Isobel-”

“Can we just ignore the elephant in the room?” Isobel pleaded. “Just- forget about it?”

“Honestly?” Maria raised her eyebrow.

“Yes,” Isobel replied. “Because I would really like to. We’re friends, Maria. And sure, maybe I have more feelings than just friendly ones but I don’t want that to ruin anything between us. I like being your friend and I want to continue being your friend. Please don’t let this,” she waved a hand at her chest, “change that.” She paused. “Please.”

Maria looked unsure but eventually she nodded. “So what’s all this?” She finally let go of Isobel’s wrist but her touch lingered.

“Um,” Isobel cleared her throat and shook her wrist a little. “You uh- you made me a care package of sorts after Noah died. I didn’t need it, obviously, but I figured it was the sort of thing you would want after a breakup so…” 

Maria looked at the table and then back at her. “I broke up with your brother,” she reminded her.

“So?”

“So...shouldn’t you be on his side?”

Isobel shook her head. “There are no sides. And like I said I’m your friend, so let me be your friend.”

Maria searched her face for a second before giving her a small smile and a sharp nod. “Okay. Spoil me, Evans.” Isobel let out a sigh of relief as Maria dropped into a chair and let Isobel show her all of the things she’d brought. “You know,” Maria said slowly once she was done. “It’s pretty pathetic to watch romcoms all by yourself.”

Isobel couldn’t help but glance at the clock. “I’m supposed to be at work…”

“Who said I was inviting you?” Maria grinned. Isobel flushed and tried not to squirm. “I’m working tonight but tomorrow is all freed up for wallowing in my heartbreak. You free?”

Isobel smiled. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m free.” 

Maria’s grin softened. “Good. Come by around 7?”

“I’ll bring tacos.”

“Perfect.”

#roswell fic #my fic #rnm #malex fic #no actual malex but the fic as a whole is malex so tagging them #im the most impatient person ever but thats good for yall bc it means i cant withhold updates to save my life #once its done it gets posted

[but-first-geek]

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[amarabliss]

Oaths and Hearts - 11 (Ignis Scientia/Reader)

So this is a crossover between FFXV and Dragon Age Inquisition.

You fell through a rift into the fade fighting the demons you swore to protect your world from. When you popped out you were no longer in the lands of Ferelden instead trapped in Insomnia. The gracious king allowed you to say recognizing power when he saw it. One thing led to another and now you were part of the procession of the prince to his wedding years later. Before the final battle, after years of fighting, losses, and love…your friend…your king…Noctis has asked you to change it all…

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10

You sat with your eyes closed against the steel of the airship. You didn’t like it. Flying that is…there was no connection to anything, and it made you feel off balance.

You focused on feeling the cold steel imagining it was earth…perhaps a mountain…you had traveled enough of them in the last few months to remember how the cool stone felt at night. It helped a little…but turbulence was a cruel bitch…

“Dammit…” You muttered wiping a hand over your face before opening your eyes.

“You know…mediation works better when you’re calm.” Your eyes snapped up at the white-haired man sitting across from you. He stared back unapologetically.

“Fuck. You.” You growled at him.

“Language…you call yourself a lady…” Ravus smirked as he pulled out an apple, something that had been making your stomach churn daily, and took a big juicy bite out of it.

You stood to your feet clenching your fists at your sides as you opened your mouth to speak, however, you didn’t get the chance to as Aranea stepped, “Alright…calm down. One lightening storm was enough in this rig. Ravus, take yourself and the fruit to the cockpit.”

“Happily…” He stood up taking another obnoxious bite.

You growled again stepping toward him, but Aranea stepped in your path, “Let it go…”

“He does it on purpose!” You snapped at her, “He knows exactly how I feel about the smell!”

“I know, and I will talk to him, but I can’t have you blowing a gasket when we’re 20,000 feet in the air again.” She told you sympathetically, “And it’s not good for you or you baby to get so worked up.”

You clenched your jaw a hand went reflexively to your belly. Six months pregnant…almost…you had been on the run for four months and you were losing count between getting sick and moving around so much. Never staying in one place for too long for fear of being noticed.

Four months of small check ins from the man you loved. No conversations, just account transfers to take care of you, while he helped Noct get the rest of the royal armory and blessings of gods. You felt so alone among soldiers who only wanted to protect you for the profit it gave them…mostly.

You took a deep breath trying to relax, “…please tell me we can call him, even just a word…”

Aranea frowned shaking her head, “No…they’re supposed to be reaching the capitol in the next week or so. They had to take a few pit stops along the way…I wouldn’t want to risk alerting the empire to their location, when they are this close.”

“I’m sick of waiting around…” You shut your eyes making a face a wave of pain erupted in your back, “There has to be something to do.”

“What is it?” The Commodore stepped closer to you concern evident in her posture.

“He’s kicking a lot today…I don’t think he likes being this high up.” You leaned against the wall making a face.

“You should sit…I’ll get Wedge to come take a look at you and we’ll figure out where we can land…” Aranea told you as she stepped away, “I’ll get you some tea too…”

“No! No tea! Your tea is…gross…” You called after her as you stepped toward the chairs.

You made a face taking a deep breath as you stopped halfway shutting your eyes tightly putting a hand on your side, “Dammit…buddy come on…you gotta give me a break.”

“Give me your hand…”  You opened your eyes seeing Ravus holding a hand out to you.

“Why would I give my hand to you?” You took a deep breath in through your nose as another wave of kicking ensued.

He stared at you for a moment before stepping toward you. You stepped out of his way only to see him follow you. You glared and then tensed as his hand found your back as he scolded, “Quit…dancing around and let me help you.”

“Ravus…you have never once offered to help me…” You stared up into his eyes standing firmly in your spot as Ulric began kick boxing with your kidney, “And despite you volunteering to be an escort because you feel you owe me in someway for helping your sister…we aren’t friends…”

“No, we’re not, but…” He sighed helping you over to the chairs, “I remember when my mother was pregnant with Luna. She would have the most painful expressions sometimes, when Luna started to kick. I promised if I ever had a child, I would make sure the mother would not be alone during such times…”

“This is not your child…” You eased yourself down before you looked at him taking a seat next to you.

“No…” He shook his head a little before he hesitantly began rubbing your back with his one hand. Warmth spread through tense and sore areas, you had forgotten how good touch felt, “but I don’t see myself ever having the chance…so I will amend my promise to the situation at hand to alleviate you of your pain.”

You shut your eyes hanging your head a little as his one hand moved up to your shoulders, “I…I’m sorry…I shouldn’t have assumed.”

“Don’t be…” Ravus shook his head smiling a little, “All my life people have made assumptions about me. Shouldn’t expect anything different from you.”

You laughed a little letting your eyes meet his, “I know what that’s like.”

“I find that hard to believe. You have an air about you that yells ‘straightforward.’” He sniped back at you.

“Quite the opposite…Where I’m from everyone expected me to be a deranged mage hell-bent on world domination, raging and bringing forth demons to destroy everything.” You looked at him frowning as a heavy weight fell on your shoulders. You had always felt like you left Thedas vulnerable by leaving it, “But…the reality of it…I just wanted to be free…I just wanted to there to be peace, and I sacrificed everything to make sure the world was safe.”

Ravus stared at you a long time before he spoke again, “The burden of leadership.”

“Yes…it was…in the end, I don’t even know if I made a difference…there was still so much dissent against people like me.” You stared off as if trying to remember it all at once, “But I know that I left my home in good hands. I know they won’t let it fall back into the way things were.”

He stopped rubbing your shoulders letting out a sigh, “Sounds like you’ve done more then any of us here.”

You let out a sad laugh, “Oh you know just a small rebellion turned into saving the world...just an average day back home…”

“Maybe one day you can tell me more about it? Hell, maybe you can help me lead a rebellion of my own. I wouldn’t mind not being railroaded by the empire anymore.” He stood up as Wedge came over with Aranea, “If you’ll excuse me.”

You watched him walk away slowly as Wedge began asking you questions. The cogs began turning in your head. It was so simple, and it could actually work. Wedge cleared you and began putting his devices back into his medical bag away.

“…Aranea…” You stood up looking at her, “How easy is it for you to find someone?”

“Depends on the person, but I usually can find anyone with a few calls.” She eyed you carefully, “I already know where your boy toy is…and I already told-”

“I don’t want to find Ignis.” Your face hardened as you crossed your arms, “I want to find Cor Leonis.”

Her eyes narrowed on you, “Why do you want to find the Immortal?”

“I’m tired of sitting on the sidelines…” You told her before you smiled, “I need to help Ignis and Noct somehow, and I think I just figured out how.”

You sat on at a table a few days later looking out toward the meteor, no longer ignited, but still a sight to behold. This place was something else. You could not think of any other like it. No matter what was going on, Lestallum felt alive.

And hot…You hated that you had to wear this giant thick cape to hide yourself, rather…hide your baby…

“Lady Trevelyan?” You looked back seeing Cor walking up to you. He smiled when you stood up taking your extended hand, “I thought you would be with the boys. When I got your message, I half expected them to be here.”

“Yeah, no, um…” You swallowed staring at him. The way he held himself told you that he wasn’t informed on the recent events. A soldier of his caliber wouldn’t be so relaxed, “I take it you haven’t heard about the bounty on my head…”

“Bounty? On you?” He waved his arm to have you sit down again as his demeanor changed. There was the commander you knew, “But you’re unreasonably nice to people.”

“Where have you been recently? For that matter the last half a year?” You watched him sit down, “At least tell me you know everything went sideways in Altissia?”

“It’s a long story…” He sighed scratching the back of his head, “And I had heard that Noctis and Luna did get married…I was sorry I couldn’t attend.”

“Well, if you tell me your story…I’ll tell you mine.”  You grunted as you threw the front of the cape over your shoulders to give you some relief. His eyes immediately focused in on your stomach, “I’ll get to him in a minute, tell me what you’ve been up to?”

You sat and listened and everything he said was exactly what you needed to hear. After he left Caem he returned to the hunters where he met up with some former Glaive. After hearing their stories he felt it was imperative that they find as many Glaive and Crownsguard as he could to be ready for their king’s return.

“So I have been managing them. Training new recruits and protecting people along the away.” Cor watched as you pulled the spoon from your mouth returning it to the large bowl of ice cream, “We’re ready to return and take back our home when Noctis orders it.”

“That is wonderful to hear.” You smiled at him before shoving the spoon in your mouth again.

He smiled shaking his head a little, “So…you’re turn. Why is there a bounty on your head?”

“Oh, I shoved the chancellor of Neifilheim into a rift hopefully to never return again. He was a deamon and creepy…” You rattled off scraping the bottom of the bowl, “Then…there’s some stuff about time travel, it gets really complicated, but the main thing is I killed Ardyn Izunia.”

He stared at you a long time before clearing his throat, “That’s…Uh…”

“Hard to believe, I know, but it’s the truth. I’m sure you’ve heard rumors at least of my sudden appearance back then...” You told him quietly, “All of which I’m happy to explain to you, but I’m hoping we can do it at a different time.”

“Alright. You called me for a reason.” He nodded leaning forward, “What is it you want from me?”

You set the bowl down looking into his blue determined eyes, “I want to take back Insomnia.”

“We all do.” He chuckled sitting back.

“I want to take it back now.” You watched as his face went blank, “If we do it, we divide their attention. Maybe enough to give the boys time to get the crystal and get out of the empire…”

“…forgive me your ladyship, but…there are at least a thousand strong in the city of Insomnia that are soldiers…that doesn’t include the MTs or their machinery.” Cor leaned forward again looking around, “I’m not saying it can’t be done, but…it will be awfully hard.”

“That’s why I’ve come to you.” You told him quietly, “I’ve experience with this type of thing as well…maybe together we can figure this out. The Immortal and the Inquisitor.”

He stared at you again before shaking his head, “You sure have a brass pair.”

“I’m protective of my family…and I’m tired of being apart from them.” You swallowed looking away as fleeting thoughts of Ignis floated through your mind.

“Okay…I’m in…” He nodded slowly, “I’m sure everyone will be onboard.”

You cleared your throat, “Good…reach out to Aranea and we’ll get things rolling.”

“Now hold on…” He watched you stand up, “You told me why you have a bounty on your head and why you called me…but you never explained…your condition.”

You smiled at him putting a hand on your belly, “Does it really matter?”

“Call it curiosity.” He smirked up to you. It was no wonder why everyone in the citadel swooned over him with that charm.

“Well…it’s not all the exciting. It happened the normal way when a man and woman…” You watched him roll his eyes and you laughed a little. It was nice to do so. You’d been around so many stiff people the last few months it was nice to tease again.

“Who’s the father, is the question I’m begging you to answer…” He stared up at you as you adjusted the cape again to cover yourself.

“…Ignis.” You watched as his posture changed and his face became very serious, “Cor…what’s wrong?”

“You’re sure Ignis is the father?” He stood up speaking in a hushed tone.

“What do you take me for?” You glared at him a little, “Of course I’m sure it’s Ignis…”

“You’re coming with me.” He began looking around as if he was on a detail.

“Cor, what is going on?” You pulled your arm back when he tried to take it.

He looked into your eyes as he spoke quietly, “Your child is currently second in line for the throne of Lucis.”

“No…how?” You took a step away from him as a sinking feeling seeped into your shoulders.

“Ignis…” Cor stepped with you suddenly becoming extremely overprotective of his charge in front of him, “is Noct’s older, half-brother.”

Your eyes widened as you suddenly became very light head, “…wha…”

He caught you as began to fall helping you back to the table you had been sitting at, “Take a second…”

“Does he know? Do they all know?” You stared into his eyes as mild panic began to set in.

“No.” He shook his head taking your hands in his, “No one knows. Regis only told Clarus and myself. The information would have passed to Gladio and I’m certain Noct and Ignis when the time deemed it…necessary.”

“Necessary…why? How?” You suddenly began to feel sick, “This…why?”

“Regis and Aulea were having trouble conceiving a child. They worried enough that…” He sighed hanging his head, “That they invoked an old tradition where they ask their closest retainers…to bear a child of Lucian line.”

“Regis…and Ignis’ mother….” You frowned a little, “Oh my god…”

“It sounds bad…but it was considered an honor and with the medical advances we have now it’s much less intimate and more a duty…” Cor looked at you sympathetically, “It was close to Ignis’ first birthday when Aulea reported that she was pregnant. Regis knew what it meant. He had two heirs. Regis waited until Aulea was sure the pregnancy took then reached out the Scientias… At which point Roderick Scientia, Ignis’ father, vowed to raise Ignis as his own and everyone was sworn to never speak of it unless it was necessary.”

“And what makes it necessary now? Noct is fine…he’s going to be king…He and Luna…” You rambled quickly as you began hyperventilating.

“It’s only fine if they have a child…one day Noct will have to fulfill his duty as the chosen. He knows what that means.” Cor spoke realistically, “If there is no direct heir from him…the responsibility will fall to Ignis…to your child.”

He put his hands on your arms giving you a squeeze to try and help calm you down. “Y/N, I’m going to protect you and your child, but I’m not sure we can risk…”

“No.” You shook your head as a tear fell down your face. Finding out your child was heir to the throne was overwhelming, but it didn’t change what needed to be done, “No…we have to go to Insomnia. We have to help them…so they can come home.”

Cor let out a long heavy sigh before he stood up holding his hand out to you, “Then I suppose you’ll have to meet your soldiers. Think your crew can give me ride?”

#oaths and hearts #ignis scientia x reader #ignis scientia/reader #ignis x reader #ignis #ffxv ignis #ignis scientia #ignis scientia reader #ignis scientia imagine #final fantasy xv #kingsglaive final fantasy #final fantasy xv imagine #final fantasy xv fanfiction #final fantasy xv/dragon age crossover #dragon age #dragon age crossover #ffxv dragon age crossover #ffxv/dragon age #dragon age inquisition #aranea highwind #ravus nox fleuret #Cor leonis #noctis lucis caelum

[loljulie]

flicker; {010} finally free

(what do you mean i can’t update a fanfic that’s over a year old?? yeah, so, i wasn’t rlly planning on this, but i had the idea when i first wrote the original fic and somehow got an inspiration for it. also, the first part of this chapter is from a year ago, so hopefully you can see improvement as it progresses. anyway, i decided to still keep the taglist because,, idk, why not? and in case it wasn’t obvious, this is the official finale, and everything written here is original content so i had to make up a lot of stuff for post-uprising political stuffs. i hope y’all like it!) 

genre: detroit: become human

deviant!connor x reader

word count: 6300 (literally wtf??)

▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓　 d̯̱̝̠̘̙͙e̼̯̣̗͈͇̳v̥̗̭̹̫ia̘̝͔͙͙̜ͅn͈t͇͓̦̻s̙̗͉̜͕  　▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓

@dragonempress123

@itstrashleydude

@chisooyaaa

@help-i-need-a-social-life 

@shadows-echoes​

@mavvsmm​

@sygin​

@wonders-of-the-multiverse​

You leaned back into your snug couch, your eyes closed as you let your muscles relax against the cushions. Spending the night in a hospital bed had made you miss the comfort of not just your soft couch, but everything else in your home, as well.

“Up,” Connor commanded, causing you to open your eyes. He was fluffing one of your throw pillows on the coffee table in front of your injured leg. Without question, you did as you were told and rested your leg on the pillow.

The two of you had just gotten dropped off by Hank, who made you and Connor promise to call if you needed anything. While Hank went back to the station to work, Connor had taken some time off to help you recover. 

“Whenever you’re resting, try to keep it elevated,” he said to you as he took a seat beside you. “Are you in any pain?”

You chuckled softly at his question. It was only the 5th time he had asked you since you woke up earlier that day. 

“No, Connor,” you reassured with a small smile. “The painkillers they gave me are really good.”

Suddenly, Connor blinked several times. “I placed an order for the prescription painkillers your doctor gave me. I’ll see if Hank can pick it up after work.”

“Would you like anything? Tea? Water?” Connor’s next question came so abruptly that you didn’t have time to comment on anything else. “Are you cold? Would you like a blanket?”

Instead of answering, you shifted your body toward him and placed your hands on his cheeks, forcing him to meet your gaze. You could see the concern and worry in his brown eyes and furrowed eyebrows. You pulled his face to yours and engulfed him in a kiss.

It was the first kiss you had shared with him since he left your apartment. That night - only a few days prior - seemed like ages ago, and this kiss was long overdue. Though he was hesitant at first, due to your injured state, Connor eventually wrapped his arms around you and moved closer to you. 

There was something raw in this kiss that was difficult to describe. The last kiss you had was filled with so much uncertainty and worry, and now all of those anxieties could finally be released. It was a catharsis that neither of you had ever experienced before, and one you desperately needed. 

When you pulled away, you rested your forehead against his, not wanting to break away from the intimate moment just yet. Connor closed his eyes at the gesture. You noticed his clenched jaw, and knew something was wrong with him.

“Connor,” you whispered, causing him to slowly open his eyes. “I know you want to help me, but I’m fine. I promise. All I want to do is rest. ”

He pulled his forehead away, but then gripped your hands in his lap tightly. 

“I understand. I’m sorry if I came on too strong,” he replied. You squeezed his hand, and felt him rub his thumb gently into the back of your hand.

“You can tell me if there’s anything wrong,” you said softly.

“It’s just - ,” Connor started, then stopped himself. He gripped your hand tighter, as if needing the comfort of your touch before being able to continue. “I was so worried when I heard what happened and I-I didn’t know what condition you were in and-”

“I...I kept thinking that the last time I saw you, I didn’t even tell you that I loved you.” You took a deep breath as you remembered the day you were shot. You just then realized that you had told him you loved him before he left for Jericho, but not the last time you saw him. “If something bad happened- if you had-”

Connor stopped, but in his silence you knew the word he couldn’t say. It was your turn to absentmindedly rub your thumb over the back of his hand, silently expressing comfort.

“It wouldn’t have been worth it,” Connor continued flatly. You raised an eyebrow, and he seemed to understand your confusion at what ‘it’ meant, and went on. “The uprising, the protesting. Nothing would’ve been worth it if you died. I’d deactivate myself.”

Your stomach tightened at his words, rousing you to speak up. “Connor, don’t-”

“It’s the truth,” he cut you off, his voice strained with sadness. He looked at you intently. “You’re the reason I deviated. I wouldn’t need - or want - anything to do with this life if you’re not in it.” 

Your eyes widened at his sentiment.

“So...  I’m sorry if I get lost in taking care of you during your recovery,” he went on, “I just… I can’t lose you, and I’m going to do everything I can to make sure I don’t.”

You let his statement process in your mind for a few moments. While you knew you would need some help for the first couple of weeks during the recovery, you were worried that you would take him away from the civic duties he’d undoubtedly been piled with ever since the uprising ended. As you looked at his concerned expression, however, you knew that for that moment, he wouldn’t take no for an answer.

So, as a gesture of approval, you leaned forward and planted a kiss on his cheek. His tense shoulders relaxed at your touch. 

“Okay, then the first thing you can do is help me to my bed so I can take a nap.”

-

Naps were what took up most of your time during the first two weeks of your recovery. If you weren’t at physical therapy, the painkillers you were prescribed in the early days were so strong that they kept you in a perpetual slumber.

Some days, Hank would stop by and eat dinner with you and Connor. You’d ask endlessly about what was going on in the station, and he’d in turn pester you about your health. Connor mediated occasionally, but for the most part he enjoyed seeing the two of you banter and converse. It felt normal again.

As time went on, your therapy appointments showed more progress and you began to regain more mobility of your leg. Soon enough, the pain became minimal and much of your energy had returned. Instead of following the at-home physical therapy routines, Connor would walk with you around the block. 

Occasionally, the two of you would go out for a couple of hours a day. Connor would insist they were for your leg, but you had a feeling he enjoyed having lunch out at a restaurant or walking around the park with you. Now that the two of you could be public with your relationship, you began to think of those day outs as dates. 

Eventually, months passed, and you were cleared to return back to work. As soon as you were essentially injury free, Connor practically immersed himself in legislative work at the capital. You saw less and less of each other - first, he’d spend weekends away at negotiations and meetings; then, he’d be gone for weeks at a time. 

You couldn’t fault him for it; he was working tirelessly to ensure civil liberties for all androids, and you knew he was passionate about fighting for them. It did, however, take a toll on you, and you noticed it the most when you’d sit in your empty apartment most nights. 

So, when you - and Hank, you later found out - received an ornate invitation to a gala in D.C., you jumped at the chance to accept, knowing that it meant finally being able to see Connor again after weeks of only video contact. He had been away for much longer this time, and while he couldn’t disclose all the details to you, he giddily hinted that it was one of the more major acts he was working on. 

The gala was to celebrate the anniversary of the uprising and the various legislations that have been passed since then. You knew of them all, of course; and you knew that this night was more of a pat-on-the-back the government was giving itself for their cooperation with androids.  

While the importance of the night wasn’t lost on you, the fact that the gala meant seeing Connor after weeks of separation weighed more heavily in your thoughts. 

“This damn tie is all messed up again,” Hank’s gruff voice interrupted your moment of reflection. You lifted your head from the window of the car and shifted to be closer to your backseat companion. 

“If you stopped fidgeting with it, it wouldn’t be messed up,” you quipped as your fingers adjusted the navy blue tie Hank wore. He grunted before responding.

“I’m not comfortable in these things,” he replied, gesturing to his black suit. “If it were up to me, I’d be here in jeans and a comfy shirt.” 

You chuckled at your partner. You’d endured his complaints and whines for the last week leading up to tonight. When you raided his home for suitable black-tie attire, and found none whatsoever, you had to all but drag him to the nearest clothing store to find an appropriate outfit for him. 

“It’s one night,” you reminded him, just as you had whenever his complaints met your ears. “And then you’ll be back to your gruffy jacket and decades-old jeans.”

“One night,” he repeated, glancing down at his now-fixed tie and nodding to you. 

Soon, the car pulled to a stop outside the civic center where the gala would take place. Night had already fallen on D.C., but it only served to make the exterior of the center seem all that much grander. The building itself was mostly grey concrete; but the large glass windows that made up most of its front was breathtaking to say the least. Lights adorned the walkway to the entrance, and from what you could see, they continued inside.

“Ready?” Hank asked you, holding his elbow out to you. With a nod, you slid your arm into his, and the two of you began walking toward the entrance. “The sooner we get to that open bar, the better.”

You rolled your eyes playfully, but said nothing. The open bar was on the list of reasons you gave to Hank to persuade him to attend with you, along with disappointing Connor by not showing up. 

Under your grey, long coat, your navy blue gown flowed around you as you continued to walk to the entrance. Hank was adamant that the only splash of color he’d wear would be the same as his tie, and you wanted to coordinate your outfits as best as you could. The sleeves of your dress were off-the-shoulder, and as you walked, the high slit on one side of your dress allowed one of your legs to show. 

You may have been showing off a little bit, but you couldn’t remember the last time you had an excuse to dress up so nicely for something. You also wanted to look as good as possible for your long-awaited reunion with Connor, and it wouldn’t hurt if he couldn’t take his eyes off of you for the whole night.

The room you entered was little more than a wide hallway. A counter nearby was in the midst of collecting larger coats. As it was the midst of November, many guests were taking advantage of the complimentary coat-check, shedding their warm layers to reveal expensive jewelry and designer wardrobes. It was clear just how high caliber this event was; you doubted anybody here, aside from invited guests, was anybody but a politician or high-ranking government official.

Hank shifted and you felt his hands around your shoulders, gently guiding your outer coat off. He had already removed his own black coat, and he draped both of them over one of his arms.

“I’ll go check these in. Don’t stray too far.”

You nodded your thanks to him, but kept your eyes scanning through the crowd of people. A large part of you knew Connor - one of the more important people in the gala tonight - would already be further inside the ballroom, mingling with guests. Still, it didn’t stop you from searching with bated breath and a quickened heart rate. 

You barely registered Hank until he was back at your side. Noticing your distraction, he nudged your shoulder with his own.

“He won’t be out here, ya know.”

You nodded, and wrapped your arm around his again. Without his outer coat on, his full suit was visible; black jacket, black pants, and of course, his navy blue tie, still in the immaculate position you had left it in. Under the more visible lighting of the hallway, you could more easily see the fruits of your labor when it came to his hair, as well. He wouldn’t let you do anything too “ridiculous” to it, but he allowed you to style it mostly back and out of his face with the most minimal amount of mousse. 

Your heels clacked along the polished floors while you glanced at every passing face in vain. All you were met with were various looks thrown your way, ranging from curiosity to thinly veiled disgust. It didn’t take much to realize you weren’t the typical crowd these guests were used to, but the occasional stranger managed to give you a smile or a friendly nod.

Hank must’ve noticed as well, for right as you entered the threshold into the ballroom, he leaned closer to you. “I already need a drink.”

The room you entered was massive, to say the least, and the crowd of people it currently housed managed to fill up most of the available space. Tables were spread across the space, though barely any guests made use of the free seating. Many were scattered throughout the room, coupled off in pairs or in larger group circles. Even with the added height your heels gave you, it was impossible to look over the crowd or even into it to continue your search.

You let Hank guide you to the bar, where some guests gathered around the standing circular tables with drinks in hand. Clearly, Hank wasn’t the only one with the idea to start the night off with a bit of a boost. You noticed workers carrying around platters of bite-sized foods maneuvered between groups, and made a mental note of which items looked the most appetizing for later.

“You need one, too; it’ll help with your nerves,” Hank remarked as he gave you one fleeting glance when you reached the bar. 

You let out a slight scoff while Hank ordered for the both of you. “I’m not nervous.”

“No, no, of course not,” Hank replied, his tone higher and carrying a playful hint to it, “Why would you be?”

“Exactly,” you agreed, crossing your arms over your chest. 

“Except for, you know, the fact that you haven’t seen him in almost a month,” Hank paused to receive the two glasses from the bartender before continuing. “And, he clearly has some fancy friends now.”

Your arms dropped from your chest as you looked over to Hank. Your eyebrows furrowed just slightly, and the corner of your lips tugged downward. You had tried your best to keep those thoughts away, but you couldn’t deny that they twisted your insides when Hank spoke them aloud. 

“I can read you like a book,” Hank brought the extra drink forward to you. “And you have nothing to worry about. But, you still will, so here.”

You took the drink from his hand and took a deep sip. Once the dark liquid hit your tongue, you easily identified it as a mixture of alcohol and soda. It was a gentler taste than had it been a whiskey alone, which you spotted Hank drinking himself. 

After knowing Hank for so long, it didn’t surprise you that he could identify your thoughts before even you could. And, while the drink helped quell your nerves a bit, its effects were nothing compared to the reassurance from your long-time partner. 

“I should know better by now,” you quipped, holding your glass out to Hank. You both had already taken your own sips, but nevertheless, greeted your glasses together with a clink. “Cheers.”

You both took another sip each. Hank let out a sigh after giving his alcohol a chance to warm his throat. “Not bad; this whiskey is probably the only good thing I’ll enjoy here.” 

”Oh, really?,” you began sarcastically, and nodded your head to one of the waiters, “I was sure vegan finger foods were your absolute favorites.” 

When Hank chuckled at your obvious joke, you mirrored him briefly before taking another sip from your glass and letting your eyes wander the crowd for a split second. 

A split second was all you needed to spot him. 

It must’ve been the way the crowd had shifted at that moment; a waiter had just ducked between two larger groups, revealing just enough space for you to spot Connor in the middle of a big group himself. Well-dressed men and women alike were listening intently to something he was saying, nodding along with eagerness plastered on their faces. 

You thought you wouldn’t be able to get his attention before the crowd shifted again, but you were wrong. He broke eye contact with one of his group’s members and, in a passing glance, found your gaze. Your heart stopped for a brief moment when your eyes met - and it felt like you were seeing him for the first time all over again. 

There was something different about him. He wore a fitted black suit that clung to his body in a different way than his usual uniform did. Under his jacket was a plain white button up, and a silver tie. It wasn’t just his attire, though, it was something else, too. The way he held himself while he spoke to the others, the confidence he exuded, was palpable even from your distance.  

He continued to keep eye contact, and all you could think to do was quirk an eyebrow at him over your glass, still pressed to your lips. A shadow of a smile - no, a smirk? - crossed his lips, and you watched as his gaze flittered up and down your ensemble for just a moment. 

Oh, he had definitely noticed how well your gown looked. Especially when you were leaned against the bar, allowing the open slit in your dress to reveal your bare leg. 

He had been quiet for some time now, and you could tell someone near him started to speak in his lull. As he was brought back to his suddenly trifling conversation, you saw him wet his lips just slightly before meeting your eyes for one last moment. 

You’d only been gone from each other for a month, but it felt like more than that. Before this latest trip, your time together was sparse, too. What precious time you did have together was usually overshadowed by a phone call or text he had to respond to. Not to mention your own job at the station pulling you away from your home every chance you got. This last year was hard for both of you, and now that this gala was here to mark the various legislations passed, it meant Connor would finally have more free time on his hands. But you would be lying if you said you didn’t think about where that left the two of you; and if things would be the same. 

And now seeing the energy he radiates you realize that things have changed a bit - but for the better. There’s something different in how he holds himself, that’s for sure. It made you all the more intrigued and restless to talk to him; see how he is when there isn’t deadline after deadline on his plate and he’s able to relax as his new self. 

He clearly is, however, just as infatuated with you as before, if the look he gave you was any indication. It had been a while since any of that took place, and you silently thanked yourself for having the foresight to book you and Hank separate hotel rooms for the evening. 

Just as quickly as it happened before, a waiter passed by, some groups shifted, and Connor was lost in the sea of conversations. 

Luckily for you, one of the coordinators went on stage, and announced that the live band they had for the evening would begin their set. Guests were encouraged to dance, of course, which meant the floor where most were currently talking would become exclusive for those who would dance. 

As the crowd dispersed, the jazz band already set up on stage began to start their set. Slowly, pairs started to fill up the dance floor once again. 

You looked over to Hank. “Would you like to dance?”

“That’s funnier than the last one,” he replied, then took another sip of his drink. “Dancing was not why I agreed to come.” 

“One dance won’t kill you,” You had already set your drink back down on the bar, and leaned over to grab Hank’s drink from his hand. He gave you a disgruntled look, but did nothing to stop you as you placed his glass next to yours. 

You led him to the dance floor, and settled into a free space amongst the dancing pairs. The music was cheery and light, meaning you could adopt a more casual form with your partner. One of your arms wrapped loosely around his shoulder, while his came to rest on your back. Both of your free hands were clasped together as you swayed to the music. 

Hank was stiff and guarded in his moves at first; a byproduct of his forced attire and the company he was surrounded by for the night. Yet, as you led him through the motions, he seemed to ease up. 

It was an odd thing, really, to see Hank ever relax in your presence. Work at the station was always stressful, and even during the occasional meals you shared outside of work, there was a certain weight he carried on his shoulders that made you wonder if he ever relieved his tension aside from the obvious alcoholic solutions. Your concern for his health was always a constant stressor ever since you first got to know him, and his lack thereof frustrated you to no end.

A comfortable silence fell between the two of you; one that could only be shared between long-term friends who didn’t need words to express themselves. You knew Hank wasn’t truly relaxed, but you could tell from your grip around his shoulders that he was allowing himself to try. Even if it was just to appease you for the night, his actions brought a genuine smile to his face.

“I’m proud of you, you know.” His voice stopped your movements; instead of leading the both of you around the dancefloor, you paused and looked into his eyes. 

“For what?” You managed, the smile still on your lips, as if waiting for a punchline or quip.

“Everything. From your police work to risking your life to help Connor and the rest of the droids, and everything in between. You’ve done a lot, kid. And I’m proud of you for it.”

You shook your head lightly, an attempt to brush off his praise. “You’re selling yourself short, Hank. You helped me with a lot of that.”

“Maybe so,” he nodded, smiling briefly. “But you still did it yourself. And you’ve stuck around to help an old man like me for longer than you needed to, and for that, I have to thank you.” 

Your eyes began to sting with the threat of tears. Hank had expressed his thanks to you in his actions before; good performance reviews to your higher ups, free meals, and the occasional back-handed compliment, but he had never explicitly said such kind words to you. 

You would’ve made a clever comeback, but you found your throat was too tight to try to speak. So, instead, you dropped your hand from his and wrapped it around the other side of his shoulders, embracing Hank in a hug, the dance long forgotten. Tears still threatened to leave your eyes, so you held them back by closing them altogether and buried your face into Hank’s suit jacket.

You weren’t sure how long you had stood there, but when you heard the coordinated shuffling of couples going off the dance floor and new ones onto it, you realized the song had ended and Hank’s favor had been completed - even if it was a little less than one dance. 

Hank pulled away from you, but left a hand on your shoulder. You waited for him to say something, eyeing his face intently, but noticed his eyes focus on something behind you. Before you could get a chance to turn around, your partner finally spoke up. 

“Looks like we’ve got company,” He gave you a knowing smile, and nodded to the spot behind you. As you turned around, you heard a fleeting statement from your partner.  “I’ll be at the bar if you need me.”

Your heart fluttered in your chest when you saw him up close. He was just as breathtaking as he was when you spotted him across the room, but the fact that he was closer to you now made your knees weak and your stomach twist in excitement. Maybe a month apart wasn’t so long to some; it wasn’t really to you, either, but the distance between you two from his political work had lasted longer than a mere 4 weeks. This night marked a return to what you hoped was a normal life with Connor, but you wouldn’t let the time you were forced to spend apart go completely.

“Hello, stranger,” you spoke, accompanied with a light laugh that was music to Connor’s ears. 

“Hello,” he greeted, his mouth twisting into a smile at the sight of you. With your new proximity, he could fully appreciate the ensemble you had put together for this night, and he loved every inch of it. He decided to play along with your teasing sentiment; it may have been selfish, but there was something pleasing in the notion that, just for a moment, he could pretend to be a complete stranger to you, and still get picked in a room of a hundred others. “I’m Connor.” 

An eyebrow quirked on your amused face, already speaking the question before you did. “Just Connor?” 

You had heard his old introduction countless times and, naturally, it would make sense that he wouldn’t refer to himself like he used to anymore. He was different now; much different from the man who helped sparked the revolution all those months ago. Gradual changes you missed during the past year seemed to culminate into the man standing before you know; different in stature and poise but still the same person who deviated because of his love for you. 

A nod. “Just Connor. And you are?”

You gave him your first name, and he repeated it back to you slowly as if hearing it for the first time. The way his lips smiled around your name caused another flutter in your chest. 

“- would you like to dance?” His hand stretched out toward you. You gently placed your hand in his. 

“I’d love to.” 

Your position was similar to your dance with Hank, although Connor’s hand was placed lower on your back. Due to your brief conversation, the song had already started, though it was slower in nature than the previous one and therefore easier to settle into. 

“I didn’t know if I’d get a shot alone with you tonight,” you admitted while you swayed to the music. “You seemed quite popular earlier.” 

Connor chuckled. “I’d much rather be in your company than any of the other people in here.” 

You raised an eyebrow at him again. “Strong words for a woman you hardly know.”

“Maybe so,” Connor leaned in, his lips just inches from your ear. Your breath hitched. You couldn’t tell if your heart was beating faster or if it had stopped altogether. “But, after I saw you earlier, I couldn’t keep my mind off of you.”

He pulled away, and you could’ve sworn he was gauging your reaction as you did so. The shock must’ve been apparent on your face, because he continued without giving you a moment to form a response. 

“Although, I’m surprised someone as beautiful as yourself didn’t already have a date.” 

“I-I do,” you fumbled over your words and cursed yourself for it. How were you so nervous? “I mean, I came here with my work partner. As friends.” 

You knew Connor knew that already, so you weren’t sure why you suddenly had to express it. Something about Connor’s ability to pretend he had no clue who you were, but still charm you like he desperately wanted you, flustered you to no end. 

He was enjoying all of it; the chance to flirt with you, to win you all over again, as a new version of himself was an opportunity he’d regret not taking. Of course, seeing you so clearly affected by his advances was a bonus, and it was somehow all the more rewarding to know you were still his under it all. 

“A friend?” He hummed, taking an opportunity during your movements to pull you slightly closer to him. “Nothing I should be worried about?”

“No, no,” you shook your head, possibly too eagerly. “He’s like a father to me; he’s also grumpy, hates almost everything except alcohol, and my partner at work.” 

“Sounds like he’d be hard to get along with.” 

You chuckled at that, and saw Connor’s own smile peek through. Though he hadn’t seen your first interactions with Hank, he would be correct in guessing he wasn’t all too happy getting assigned to work with you in the early days, either. Babysitting was what he referred to it as, if you could recall correctly. It was similar to how Connor and almost every single person was treated by Hank. 

Sharing such a reference could break the illusion of unfamiliarity the two of you had just created, but somehow it added a new layer of enjoyment to the whole situation. Being able to find humor and recognition in a statement that, discussed between two strangers, could mean nothing but a passing comment was satisfying. It reiterated the simple fact that, despite whatever it was you were partaking in, you were still each other’s at the end of it all. 

You leaned in closer to Connor, nearly hugging him entirely. Your already leisurely-paced dance movements slowed even more with your new position. You rested the side of your face against his chest and closed your eyes as you breathed in his cologne. 

“I missed you,” a content sigh escaped your lips as you spoke. Connor’s grip around you tightened; a gesture to reassure you that he was here, now, and that he had missed you just as much as he had missed you. 

“You do look beautiful tonight,” he murmured in a voice only loud enough for the two of you to hear. You smiled then, a gesture he couldn’t see from how your head was rested on his chest. “I still can’t believe I’m lucky enough to call you mine.”

You wondered for a brief moment if “luck” was what you’d really call it. Was it luck that assigned his specific model to be Hank’s partner? Was it luck that you had taken an interest in the deviancy to begin with, giving you the perfect excuse for the two of you to meet outside of work? Was it luck that you even began working at that police station in the first place, all those years ago? Something told you that luck had little to do with it; that, somehow, your love story was one that was fated from the very beginning - that you were meant to be the flicker that sparked the deviancy in Connor, and in turn, helped the android uprising. 

Maybe that was wishful thinking; maybe, in reality, your love story was one of chance - of every single possibility in the universe bending and twisting in an impossible way to create the circumstances of your relationship. There was no higher power guiding you two to each other; rather, you had found each other in the organized chaos that was life - accidentally, but with purpose.

Maybe your relationship was unlikely to happen in the first place and it miraculously did against all odds, or maybe your fate was written and sealed in the stars themselves. You weren’t sure which you preferred; you only knew that you were thankful for whatever it was that brought you here, in this moment, embraced by the man that you’ve loved for over a year. 

You pulled away a bit, rousing yourself from your thoughts to instead look up at the man who so consumed them. From your periphery, however, you noticed a shock of blue hair to your right. Without even realizing it, you turned your head to get a better view of the familiar sight.

They looked different than they did on that rainy night outside of Eden Club when you last saw them. You could still differentiate between the two Traci models by their hair; one electric blue and the other a soft brown. The former was dressed in an elegant, slim silver dress while the latter wore a vibrant blue, flowy gown. 

The brown-haired Traci had her head pressed against her partner’s chest, eyes closed as the two of them drifted together to the tune of the music with soft smiles on their faces.You noticed some other guests glance their way often; but if the two noticed it at all, they paid no attention to it. After being on display for most of their entire existence, the looks they got tonight were trivial when they knew they were finally living the life they so desperately craved a year ago.

“I invited them,” Connor’s voice caused you to tear your gaze from the couple. You must’ve been watching for longer than you realized, if he had the time to notice and give an explanation. “They’re going to finalize their re-birth registration soon, and be given new names they choose.” 

The re-birth registration was the biggest project Connor spoke about to you. It had taken months to formulate, and even at its debut, there was a limited amount of androids that would be allowed to register. It essentially gave all androids the chance to create their “birth” registrations to be officially recognized as citizens. While all androids still have the emergency rights given to them from the uprising, this act was the first step in making those temporary powers more permanent.

You nodded slowly, and took one last look at the Traci’s. You’d most likely never see them again, and you wanted to remember the two androids - who taught you more about love than you realized - in the way they wanted to be remembered: together, in love, and happy. 

“And what about you?” You asked, looking back at Connor.  “Any thoughts on a new name?”

He gave a light laugh before answering. “I think I’ll stay with ‘Connor’.” 

If he’s being honest, he fell in love with the way you spoke his name and it didn’t make sense to change it. Maybe he should’ve admitted that to you, and maybe one day in the future he will, but instead he was content with your bright smile that he felt no explanation was needed.

“I do get to pick my birth date, though.” 

“Yeah?” You asked, your eyebrow arching to reflect your peaked curiosity. “What date did you have in mind?” 

“11/05.” 

Though it had been a year, you’d never forget that date. It was the day you first met Connor, and the night Connor had come by to your apartment, asked for your notes on the investigation, and left you confused and guilt-ridden from the kiss you shared. Your first ever kiss, and as accidental as it may have been, you couldn’t deny that it’s when everything started. 

You must’ve worn a shocked expression, for Connor continued with an explanation.

“I think that’s when I felt like I really started living instead of existing. Even if I tried to deny it afterwards - I know that’s when it all started to change for me… It seems right to make it my birth date.” 

You kissed him then. It was the first kiss you’d had in a month, and to be honest, you were surprised you could hold the urge back as long as you did. The feeling of his lips were soft on yours, yet held an underlying force that let you know he craved more of you than would be appropriate at a public function. His hands slowly drifted to your waist as the kiss lingered, while yours snaked their way around his neck. Both of you did your best to keep your longing kiss proper; but when he coyly nibbled at your bottom lip and caused a light moan to sound from your throat, you knew that task would be impossible. 

You pulled apart, nearly breathless. He looked at you, eyes alert and filled with a desire that made your knees weak. 

“Looks like I already missed your first birthday.” Your attempt at grounding your thoughts and bringing back some form of cohesive conversation fell short when he leaned closer to your ear. You already felt your composure crumble before he even spoke.

“It’s alright; you’ll make it up to me later.”

You most certainly did.

#detroit: become human fanfic #detroit: become human #detroit: become human fanfiction #connor x reader #rk800 x reader #detroit: bh fanfic #detroit: bh fanfiction #flickerfanfic

[kylos-saber-holder]

The Deed (kylo x oc)

Summary: Wynssa Habea has been serving the Resistance for the past 6 years after the destruction of her former Master’s Jedi temple. Luke Skywalker has not been seen since, leaving Wynssa to believe she is the only survivor of the massacre, leaving her to grieve the loss of her fellow Padawans and her first love, Ben Solo. Being one of the most powerful Force users in the galaxy has granted her a position of power within her secluded task force battalion of rebels. Wynnsa has been given the honor of exterminating elite members of the First Order, wearing a mask and outfit to keep her identity hidden to possible Jedi hunters. Her next target: Emperor Kylo Ren. 

Words: 3,249

AU: In this AU, Rey never existed. Kylo Ren killed Snoke and took over the power as Supreme Leader. He killed Palpatine and took the Star Destroyers for himself and wiped out the rest of the rebels. So basically, The Rise of Skywalker, but without Rey. 

Warnings: 18+ content, swearing, sexual situations, alcohol 

Author’s Note: Hello fellow rats. I’ve been working on this story for quite a bit, yet I’m not sure if I’m going to leave this as a shorter story or not. I’ll see as I go. Also, thank you to TikTok user milliiondollarspice for the prompt idea! 

Masterlist Link to other parts

Part I - You Know I’d Never Hurt You, Right?

The night was cold and a damp smell claimed the air, hostage from the storm that had passed through earlier. Wynssa Habea never liked storms. Hated them, in fact. “I don’t like loud noises.” She would say while playing with her hands nervously. She wondered many times why Master Skywalker even offered to train her. How would a future Jedi Knight fight in battles to protect the galaxy but couldn’t handle a measly storm? 

“Winnie? Are you alright in there?” A familiar voice spoke from outside of her hut, a small knock followed on the wooden door, which was rendered pointless since Wynssa was already aware something was at the door. Not something, but rather, someone. 

“Yes.” The young girl said, playing with her hands for the umpteenth time that night. 

“May I come in?” 

It was late, she knew that. She should tell him to go back to sleep, back to his sleeping quarters. 

“Yes.” Her voice was soft, her gaze leaving the door as she looked down at her now shaking hands. 

The door opened slowly, a terrible squeaking noise followed from the rusted hinges. A young, tall boy walked in, having to duck his head to fit in the doorway. The boy Wynssa considered a friend. Her only one, in fact. 

“Solo.” She greeted him, finally raising her head to see her fellow pupil, Ben Solo. 

“Habea.” He returned the greeting, his voice gentle and caring, the usual way he acted when a storm passed. 

“You’re up late,” She said, pulling her legs onto her bed wrapping her arms around them in an attempt for her to stop fidgeting with her now clammy hands. “You should be sleeping.” 

“So should you.” The young Padawan closed the door behind him, earning yet another squeak from the old hinges. “But here we are.” Ben looked at the empty spot on Wynssa’s bed before looking back at her, “May I sit?” 

She couldn’t hide the smile that formed on her lips, “You may.” 

Ben returned the smile as he walked over the stone flooring, his boots making small “clinks.” He watched her for just a moment before blinking. “Do you want to go for a walk?” 

“And get caught by Master Skywalker and have to scrub floors? No thanks.” She leaned her head on his shoulder. “But be my guest.”

A deep chuckle came from Ben’s chest; Wynssa’s favorite sound. “Yeah, you’re probably right.” He wrapped one of his arms around her back, his large hands resting on the lower part of her waist. It was comforting, to her at least. “How was training today? You were dueling with Anja, correct?” He questioned.

A scoff came from her throat, “Hardly, it was mostly haste remarks and insults.”

“From which end?” 

“Who do you think?” 

She could feel his eyes look down at her, “I don’t think you want me to answer.” 

Wynssa sat up quickly, her eyes meeting his as she smacked his arm playfully, another smile playing across her lips. 

Ben laughed, shielding his arm from her with his hand, “I was kidding!” he insisted. 

“Sure you were, Solo.” Her eyes didn't leave his. She studied his face, taking in each fold of skin from his smile, every freckle, every mole. 

Ben’s eyes shifted from her eyes, to her lips, and then back to her eyes. He raised his hand to touch her dark skinned cheek, his thumb stroking small lines. He was silent for a moment before speaking, “You are so beautiful...you know that, right” The low tone of his voice gave her chills more than the cool night had. 

“Shut up and kiss me.” Wynssa’s voice was breathless at this point as Ben took her offer, leaning forward and kissing her with a passion she never received from anyone else, not that there was many people she could compare him to. 

Ben’s other hand moved to the small of her back, playing with the loose fabric of her pajamas. Wynssa kissed him back eagerly, missing his touch and love. They both knew Jedi couldn’t have attachments, but how could they help themselves? Wynssa’s hands rested on his thighs as she turned herself to face him better, which he gladly accepted. 

It wasn’t long until Ben pulled away, pushing her black hair from her face. She looked at him with a puzzled look, worried she did something wrong. “You know I would never hurt you, right?” He asked, his voice hardly above a whisper as he spoke to her. 

She couldn’t help but chuckle, “What? Of course, I know that. Where did that come from?” 

His face remained serious, making her lose the smile. “I just need you to know that. Because I’m-” A knock came to the door, interrupting his sentence.

“It’s quiet hours, Padawans.” Master Skywalker. 

Wynssa squeezed her eyes tight in embarrassment, scrunching her nose, earning the smallest smile from Ben, “Yes, Master Skywalker.” 

“That goes for you too, Solo.” 

Ben sighed softly, “Yes, Uncle -- I mean, Master Skywalker.” 

The two could hear footsteps retreating beyond the door. Wynssa looked at the boy in front of her, “This is your fault.” She laughed softly. 

“I can make it up to you.” Ben offered, “Since we both will be scrubbing floors and doing the wash tomorrow.” 

“Is that so?” She asked, pushing a strand of his long black hair from his face, “What do you have in mind?” Wynssa questioned, another smile forming. 

“I can think of a few things..” He leaned forward and kissed her again. His hand now resting on her inner thigh. 

She held no resistance to his advances as she felt him push her back against the stiff sheets, forgetting the question he had asked earlier. 

‘You know I would never hurt you, right?’

--

Screams were the thing that woke Wynssa from her slumber rather than the storm that had kicked up again. She sat up quickly, covering her naked body with the scratchy sheets. She looked next to her, hoping to see Ben, but he was gone. He must’ve gone back to his hut to avoid more punishment.

“Ben??” She called out as if she didn’t have a one room hut. She could hear louder screams as she stood up, getting her clothes back on. Once she got her shoes on, she grabbed the lightsaber she had constructed from her nightside table and ran to the door, opening it. Rain was pouring but fires raged all around her. She could hardly see as she ignited her weapon, ready to defend the temple and her fellow Padawans. At the blink of an eye, she was thrown back into the stones, by what she recognized as the Force, that kept her room up. Wynssa could hear a very loud crack that she wasn’t sure if it came from her body or the wall. She gasped in pain, unable to do much more since the harsh hit against the wall had taken the breath from her body. Before she was able to get back up, or even think for a millisecond, the wall came tumbling down on top of her. She didn’t even have time to scream. 

The next thing she remembered was the pain searing through her body as she opened her eyes which were covered in soot and dust. The bricks and stones kept her from moving, not to mention she could hardly feel her legs, or any of her body for that manner. 

“Help!” She squeaked, trying to use her non-as-badly-injured hand to push some of the debris off of herself. “Help!” She cried softly to herself as she began to panic, What if she couldn’t get out? Why hasn’t anyone come to help?

She stopped herself for a moment, collecting her thoughts. Her training, duh! She was Jedi Knight -- well, almost a Jedi Knight. She closed her eyes, focusing her power to achieve the best peace she could in her mind before using the Force to help her. The stones lifted up and up until she drug herself out from under the mess. Once she was clear, the stones fell back to the heap they had her trapped under just moments ago. She sat up, wincing from the pain in all parts of her body. 

Wynssa looked down at her legs, which were completely numb. She couldn’t see any obviously breaks but she could prove herself wrong the second she tried to stand. She took a look around to see what remained of her home. The sight of the temple almost brought her to tears. It was still being ravaged in fire. Who could have done this?! The Jedi were a peaceful religion. The old Empire was long gone. Who was evil enough to destroy the Jedi temple? Anger was the next emotion to hit her and it hit like a tsunami. She would find whoever did this and make them regret ever stepping foot into her home. 

-- 

Wynssa opened her eyes as she abruptly pulled from her mediation session by a voice at the entrance of her tent. “Commander Habea, General Ilbis would like a word with you about your most recent mission.” Wynssa let out a low groan of annoyance as she stood from her place on the floor, reaching to the small desk next to her cot for the helmet that rested on the weathered wood. 

Six years. She had been wearing this helmet for six years. Worked with the Resistance for six years to destroy the First Order who terrorized the galaxy. It was either work for them or work as a scrapper trying to hide her true identity as a Jedi for her own safety. 

Wynssa looked at the silhouette of the person standing outside her tent, “Tell General Ilbis I will be in her quarters momentarily.” She mumbled softly, tracing her fingers across the scrapes and scratches in the banged up helmet that sealed her true self from the world. Very select members of the Resistance have ever seen her without it. Not that this base was very big to begin with. Wynssa had never worked directly with General Leia Organa like many others had. Leia was a legend to say the least. Wynssa was meant to be a “secret” operation who handled loose ends or took out important targets when a whole fleet of Resistance fighters couldn’t make it in or out. 

The much larger part of the Resistance was fighting hand to hand with the First Order over in Exegol with in hopes that they can end the First Order once and for all. She didn’t know much outside of that, most of the information was classified to anyone below the rank of General. The base Wynssa called home for the time being was on the aquatic planet of Aeos Prime where the Resistance had a previous base that the First Order had driven them out of a long time ago. It was the perfect place to hide from the First Order when they think they’ve already driven the Resistance from it. 

Wynssa placed the metal helmet over her head, letting it lock into place before grabbing her lightsaber from the desk, clipping it to her belt. She caught a glimpse of herself in the broken mirror that rested on the desk. Six years had passed since the destruction of the temple Master Skywalker had built. She had changed so much since then. Her beliefs had to change in order to survive, in order for the Jedi religion to survive. The mask only reminded her of that fateful, stormy night. The last night she had seen her best friend, her lover. The emptiness that could never be filled. She missed Ben. But Ben Solo was in the past, along with all of the other Padawans. As far as she knew, she was the only survivor. 

She shook the memory from her head as she walked out of her tent, seeing a woman in a Captain’s uniform. “Captain Kwerve.” Wynssa greeted the woman as she began walking towards their General’s tent, the modulator in her mask fluctuating as it was getting used to being used for the first time for the day. “Commander.” She greeted. Luminaria Kwerve was more of an assistant to Wynssa than an actual Captain. 

“The General has been restless all day. I fear she may request more than a debriefing, Commander.” Captain Kwerve said softly. 

“Yes, I can sense her worry, I can feel her unrest. She brings bad news.” Wynssa kept her voice calm and collected. Perhaps the General was worried about the mission to Exegol. Wynssa had offered to fly there herself and deal with the matter firsthand, but a transmission from directly General Organa told Wynssa to stay put, that she was too important to the Resistance to lose in case this mission went sideways. 

They arrived outside of a dark brown tent, Wynssa stopped right at the foot of the entrance. She looked down at her feet, “Thank you for your company, Captain. Go back to your quarters, I will inform you when the meeting is over.” 

“Yes, Commander Habea.” Luminaria gave a slight bow before leaving Wynssa’s side. 

She took a deep breath before opening the flap of the tent, making her way inside. “General Ilbis, you wanted to see me?” She asked, standing with her hands folded at the entrance. 

A young woman with bright red hair and fair skin was sitting at her desk, her leg bouncing up and down, “The plan on Exegol failed.” General Kelisa Ilbis said, not looking at Wynssa. 

Wynssa blinked under the mask, her throat swelling at the words that came so suddenly from her superior. “General, pardon me, but did you say it...failed? H-how is that even possible?” 

“Yes, Commander. Our military fleet is now gone. It’s just us now. I got the transmission from a passing First Order Star Destroyer this morning.” she ran her hands through her hair which she had likely been doing all morning. It would explain the loose hairs and frizz. 

Wynssa felt the corner of her eye twitch at the very mention of the First Order. She’d spent the last six years of her life picking off important officers for the benefit and survival of the rebellion. Now it seemed it was all for nothing. “Not even one X-Wing survived-?”

“No, Commander. Supreme Leader Kylo Ren - well, Emperor -  made sure to destroy every single ship that had entered Exegol or got within 4 parsecs radius of the planet to make sure the Resistance couldn’t survive.” Her voice sounded haunted, almost like she blamed herself. 

Kylo Ren. The name was famous to her. Killing him would be the direct fall of the First Order. “So the Emperor has thousands of Star Destroyers… and we have no other huge military advantage against the First Order… what are we going to do, General?” She was trying to keep the slight hope in her voice but it was hard when the biggest asshole in the galaxy destroyed the only major chance they had in stopping them. 

“I don’t know. General Organa didn’t send a transmission beforehand to tell us what to do in case this went sideways which… is odd. It doesn’t make sense.” She sighed, standing and walking to the flask on the strategy board in the middle of the room. Wynssa never saw her leading General drink, which meant this was tearing her apart from the inside. 

“I want you to kill him.” She said after taking a swig from the small canister. Her voice was hollow and empty. 

Wynssa thought she heard her wrong. “I beg your pardon, General?” 

Ilbis slammed the flask back onto the table, “You heard me, Wynssa. I want you to kill Kylo Ren. Kill him on sight. He will pay for what he did to us.” 

“General, don’t we need approval for such a huge-” 

“There’s no one to approve this!” The General snapped suddenly, a wild look in her eyes pierced right through the metal hideaway Wynssa hid herself in. She sighed, looking down at the board which was littered with small playing pieces they used to strategize attacks. “Commander, it’s an order. I want you to kill Kylo Ren. We are what’s left of the Resistance. We need to keep hope alive in the galaxy or we’re no better than the First Order. We will fight until every single rebel is dead. We cannot let the rebellion die along with General Organa and the rest of the Resistance.” Tears laced her eyes as she fought them back. “I want you to bring Captain Kwerve along with you, Commander. You’re going to need all the help you can get.” She said, collecting the grief in her voice. 

“General… as much as I would love to rip his head from his body, Ren has an entire fleet of Star Destroyers. Not to mention, if Commander Dameron’s analysis was correct, those Star Destroyers have canons that can destroy entire planets. Like they destroyed Kijimi. What happens if the First Order figures out where we are located and destroys the planet before we get out safely?” Wynssa pointed out. “Then the Resistance will really be gone.” 

“I thought you were capable of taking out our highest targets, Commander.” Her voice was flat, unimpressed. 

Wynssa scoffed, the modulator in her mask cut in and out for just a moment, “I am, General. We both know that. You’re lack of faith in my ability to serve is insulting. I have put myself at risk for six years fighting for this cause. The game has completely changed.” Anger filled Wynssa’s voice. “You’re sending me on a suicide mission, General. Normally, I would care less, but we’re all we have left. You, me, and the other hundred people in this base.”

General Ilbis sighed again, thinking silently. “You’re right. It is a suicide mission, but while Kylo Ren is still breathing, we have no other option but to hide and rebuild while he destroys planets that don’t conform to his rule with those laser canons. You and Captain Kwerve are the only ones who can do it. We have to get to the base on Yavin 4 before the First Order destroys all the resources. That will give you and Captain Kwerve time to get details on how to get onto Ren’s ship. He’s not going to be dumb enough to leave the ship during his take over.”

“He’s strong with the Force. He won’t need to leave the ship to know that I’m coming…” Wynssa thought out loud. “Either way, he’s going to know I’m there… but I’ll figure it out.” She nodded, silently accepting the mission. 

“Thank you, Commander. I had some of the pilots get your ship ready since I assume you’d like to get back as soon as possible.” Ibis nodded. “You will go down in history, Wynssa. Thank you.” The General held her hand out, offering a handshake. 

Wynssa flinched under her helmet at the mention of her first name slightly before reaching her hand out, shaking it with a firm grasp, her gloved hand meeting the soft skin of her General, “I won’t let you down, General. I promise, Kylo Ren will pay for everything he’s done.” 

Kelsia nodded, letting go of her Commander’s hand, “Please, be safe; you and Captain Kwerve. Send her my best wishes.” 

“I will, General. May the Force be with you.” 

“May the Force be with you.”

~~

Return to Masterlist

#star wars #the force awakens #the last jedi #the rise of skywalker #au #first order #kylo ren #ben solo #oc #fanfic #space prince

[margridarnauds]

Can you please talk about Imhotep x Anck Sun Amun. Anything. I’ve come back to one of my age old opts and I need your help

Oh my God, I’ll try! (Warning: Contains some salt for the second film, though it comes from a place of love and affection, and much rambling, which isn’t helped by the fact that it’s been a little while since I’ve seen both films but still have many feelings, also tw: for references to rape)

Like you, they were probably one of my oldest OTPs, and I’ve always been more or less consistent on them. (I remember being SO disappointed as a kid with the finale of the Animated Series when Imhotep just...walks away from her.) I absolutely loved how EPIC and tragic it was, and I was always rooting for them to get a happy ending. (And I was always disappointed, until I discovered the wonderful world of fanfic.) The Mummy is actually what got me started with my interest in history, and so I really do owe it a big one for that. It’s probably one of the single most influential pieces of media I’ve consumed in my life. I definitely think they were at their strongest in The Mummy; that’s the film that really DEFINES the ship for me, despite Anck getting relatively little time. Like, in the course of the introduction, we find out several things in quick succession: That Imhotep was Pharaoh’s high priest, that Anck was his mistress, and that they loved each other enough that "For their love, they were willing to risk life itself.” And then, after THAT, we learn that they were willing to kill PHARAOH, AKA the MEDIATOR BETWEEN THE DIVINE AND THE MORTAL REALM for the sake of each other. One of the things I actually realized while I was rewatching The Scene is that there’s actually a moment immediately after Pharaoh’s asked her who touched her where she looks at her arm and has a brief moment of surprise, starting just a LITTLE before she turns to look at Seti and then, behind him... 

She is TERRIFIED at this point. I think that killing Pharaoh was probably been something they’d considered, possibly talked about, but I have some strong doubts that this particular part was planned out. (Though I could also be very, very easily persuaded otherwise as well; it’s the kind of thing I’ve gone back and forth on over the years.) And then the two of them work TOGETHER to kill Pharaoh. Anck isn’t passively sitting by while her lover kills Seti, she’s actively participating in it, taking the first stab even before Imhotep gets to it, when he’s just drawn his sword. And, when the Medjai come, Imhotep was willing to DIE for her, only being dragged away by his priests, even though Anck had begged him to leave so that he could resurrect her. And then we learn a little bit about why she might not have hesitated to kill Pharaoh before Imhotep did...

This is what she chooses as her LAST WORDS. A defiant statement saying, once and for all, that she’s never going to be violated again, her last action seizing agency for herself, killing herself before letting her fate being dictated by someone else again (and to prevent her from the painful, painful death that would have awaited her otherwise). All while letting the man she chose to be with, to love, escape while she took the full blame (it’s mentioned in the original script by Narrator!Imhotep that “For murdering Pharaoh, Anck-su-namun's body was to be cursed. And it was I, the High Priest, whose duty it was to curse it.” Which...holy ANGST Batman. Given how IMPORTANT the body was to Ancient Egyptian beliefs relating to the afterlife and how important the afterlife really WAS, this must have killed him, even if he might have justified to himself that he was going to get her back. 

I’ll never entirely forgive the second film for changing her from “mistress” to “fiancee” (which seems to give her more...security, than her just being a concubine, though realistically Seti has MULTIPLE wives, but The Mummy doesn’t MENTION them or Nefertiti’s mother, so...) and deciding that she was going to be an Obvious Dark Sexy Lady from the get-go, when this is pretty damn self-explanatory. But they’d decided that Nefertiti was going to be Evie, and Seti was now the BELOVED FATHER of our heroine, and so of course Seti has to be a loving, kind father whose death was a great tragedy. (Though...personally, I choose to go with Nefertiti as an unreliable narrator. Of course she’s not going to have sympathy for a common concubine who murdered her rightful king, she had to have been a scheming, manipulative woman from the beginning. Seti can be a loving father...who still treated Anck as if she was an object for his pleasure.)

It’s just...so, so important for me to emphasize that she CHOSE to love Imhotep, that he might very well have BEEN the only man she CHOSE to be with in her life

And I’ve focused a lot on this opening and how IMPORTANT it is because it’s literally the first thing we see, and it’s what sets up the entire series. “For their love, they were willing to risk life itself” and, as it turns out, their afterlives as well. Even while Imhotep’s been turned into a cursed figure, doomed to bring the Ten Plagues of Egypt, he has two essential goals (1) Get himself rejuvenated so he won’t run up a tree whenever a cat comes along and (2) Get Anck back. Like...holy SHIT. He was willing to tear down this world and the next just to have the life with her that they SHOULD have had, in another world. 

One of the things that really stood out while I was looking for sources to work with was something that Pete Hammond, a film critic said, which is that "people want to believe in a life after death situation," which is TRUE, and explains a lot of the appeal of figures like ghosts and zombies and mummies (who are kind of specifically Egyptian zombies, as far as their ties to imperialism are concerned, but I digress), but also with Imhotep and Anck-su-Namun in particular, it’s the idea of a star-crossed love so incredibly powerful that it lasts for MILLENNIA, in defiance of death and life. It’s destructive, to the society they live in, to the world at large, but it’s epic love at its finest and it was something they both fought like Hell for. 

And then we get the second film. And in the second film, there’s obviously the ambiguity between Anck and Meela, and which one is which. Still, I think that for the MOST part the person we see in the film is more or less meant to be the person that Anck was in the past, given that there are traces of that in the pre-canon flashbacks, such as the opposition of Nefertiti VS Ankh su Namun, Pharaoh’s daughter VS the mistress, light feminine VS dark feminine, which then is repeated throughout film with Evie VS Anck/Meela, though to be fair, I’m not sure that the WRITERS were 100% sure where one began and the other ended. Which is probably a consequence of defining Anck in the first film mainly as “a goddess” and “gorgeous” the latter of which the film notes EVEN AFTER SHE’S DEAD, but I digress. The novelization plays with it a little bit, having Meela be the one to desert Imhotep, not Anck, running as her identities collapsed in on themselves. The one script I was able to get my hands on that seemed like it might be halfway legitimate rather than just a transcript said that he “realizes that she never loved him,” which seems to swing the opposite direction, being more in line with the Animated Series which would follow it where Anck is a villain whose “Love” for Imhotep is entirely opportunistic. 

Personally, even though I waffle back and forth on this one, I think that Meela is slightly more outwardly vampy than Anck, slightly more pragmatic (Anck was always pragmatic, don’t get me wrong, THAT’S shown by her asking Imhotep to leave so he could resurrect her, but it’s...DIFFERENT, in that I can’t see Meela stabbing herself in the stomach either.) But, we did get some solid OTP content in this film: 

THE LONGING. HOLY SHIT. Like, we know so little about their relationship pre-canon, but obviously, with the whole “Body paint” issue, I honestly don’t see how they would have had TOO much time available for sexytimes, and so you have this situation where they have to try to repress so much around each other when they love each other so much, and sometimes they fail and there are those LOOKS (which cues Nefertiti in on it, so bad move guys, but...#YouTried). I don’t think that they were chaste, per se, given that they were going to do SOMETHING in Anck’s bedchamber before Pharaoh arrived, but I think that their time together was limited and always fraught with the danger of being discovered.  

Which also ties into one of the major THINGS in both movies, which is that almost-but-not-quite-touch. There’s such an INTIMACY there, so much mutual pining. Even when they kiss and everything is ruined for them, look at how they do it. 

It’s so SLOW and longing, the way that Imhotep’s hands just kind of hover for a little while before going to her shoulders as he angles for the kiss. I mean, this is some REGENCY level pining here. Albeit. In Anck’s bedchamber. But still. 

Honestly, I think one of the biggest dick moves the second film did was use them as a foil for the O’Connell’s One True Love. Like, at the end of the first film, there are two love arcs, and for Imhotep to fulfill his and get Anck back, Evie has to be sacrificed, while for Rick to succeed (and save the world!), Imhotep’s gotta go. There’s no real way around this. 

With the second film, though, it comes down more to the two ladies, with BOTH of them having the chance to save their respective love interests. Evie, obviously, goes to save Rick, but Anck...wavers? Suddenly? And you could make an argument that Imhotep wavers himself, given that he chose fighting the Scorpion King for power rather than staying behind with her, but...still. After all these years? The novel explains it as Meela coming back and reasserting herself, but in the film proper it really doesn’t make as much sense, unless you go with the idea that she was never in love with Imhotep, as mentioned in the script above, or at the very least, that it was somehow LESSER to the love that Evie has for Rick, which switches the narrative of the first film from World-Destroying, Epic Love of the Undead VS World-Saving Love of the Living to Fake Love VS Real True Love (With the appropriate child to show it, while Imhotep and Anck can...obviously not produce children. Which I wouldn’t want to bring up normally but given how MUCH of Evie’s identity in the film is tied to her being Alex’s mom, Rick’s wife, and Seti’s daughter...). Which...I fundamentally can’t believe. I can’t believe that after everything the two of them did for each other, how IMPORTANT they both were, that it was just an infatuation. It adds a pointless element to Imhotep’s arc that doesn’t really make sense with what we’d seen before. The tragedy, for me, with their relationship was never that one loved the other more or less; it was that they lived in a world where it simply couldn’t happen, whereas Rick and Evie DID.

The quote that I’ve gone back to time and time again is, “For their love, they were willing to risk life itself,” THEIR. Always THEIR. No matter what, they felt strongly enough for one another that they were willing to do anything so long as it kept the other by their side, and they did it TOGETHER. 

Tl;dr: Iconic ship, iconic characters, 100/10 will stan for eternity

#the mummy #anck su namun #long post #xenowlsome

[freelancesumandas]

Grandparents in Texas: What rights do they have in regard to visitation?

Divorce Attorneys in Houston: Families are structured differently now than in previous generations. The “nuclear” family that has been exhaustively discussed and written about since the end of World War II. We now see families where parents are not always married, single family homes becoming more and more prevalent and extended family living and having an important role to play in the life of children. As our office can attest to, children are being raised not only by extended family but also by step-family.

With this all being said, it is reasonable to ask what rights grandparents have to visitation with the children that have been a part of their lives. Parents have certain rights and duties that are inherent in their relationship to their children and are protected under the laws of the State of Texas. Are the same rights and duties made available to grandparents?

What rights do grandparents have to visitation with their grandchildren in Texas?

Suppose that you are a grandparent who has been out of your grandchild’s life for years because either your child or your child’s spouse has not wanted you involved. This has got to be extremely painful to have to deal with. The laws in Texas give great deference to parents and assumes that whatever decisions that they make in regard to your grandchild that they are doing so with the best interest of the child in mind. This means that absent evidence to the contrary, that you can be denied visitation with your grandchild by a court.

The rationale for this is that the State of Texas does not have a good enough reason in most circumstances to intercede into the private life of a family in order to create orders regarding grandparent visitation. If your child’s parents are making a decision for your grandchild it is expected that there is a legitimate and warranted reason for doing so. This is not to say that it is impossible to be given visitation rights if you are a grandparent. This is particularly true if you are a grandparent who previously played a large role in your grandchild’s life such as if you helped to raise the child or perhaps the child lived with you in your home.

This past year our office represented a set of grandparents who, through multiple cases, were able to win conservatorship rights to both of their grandchildren. Let’s discuss their story.

A story in two parts: Grandparents achieve success in family law cases

Family Attorney Houston: Early in 2017 two grandparents came into our office to speak to us about representing them in a family law case. They had two grandchildren that were living with their mother and their mother’s sister here in Houston. Their son, the children’s father, was in prison serving an extended sentence for a serious crime. The children’s mother was likely to meet the same fate when her trial was held later in 2017 regarding the same crime that put their son behind bars.

Caught in the middle of all of this were our clients’ grandchildren. These folks played a large role in their grandkids’ lives before their mother decided, abruptly, to not allow the grandparents access to the children anymore. The kids were distraught as were our clients. They shared photos of family events beginning from the time the children were born and it was clear that our clients had played a huge role in helping these kids grow up with some normalcy despite their difficult circumstances.

A plan that our attorneys created with these grandparents was to first establish that they had a relationship with the children sufficient to warrant their bringing a family law case for visitation or conservatorship rights. This is a concept known as “standing.” Not just anyone can file a Suit Affecting Parent Child Relationship in Texas. To do so you must show that you have significant contacts with the child, i.e. a good reason to do so. Once we saw that we would be able to show these past significant contacts, we moved forward and filed a petition to seek visitation rights for the grandparents.

As most SAPCR cases go, we attended mediation prior to ever seeing a judge. We were fortunate to able to work with an experienced, smart mediator who helped our clients understand that just because they were not necessarily in a position to be named conservators of their grandchildren at this stage, it was not impossible to do so later on. Our clients settled on getting a weekend’s worth of visitation with their grandchildren in addition to holiday time around Thanksgiving and Christmas.

Months later after it was apparent that the children’s mother was heading to prison, our clients came back and re-filed a petition to seek conservatorship rights over their grandchildren. This meant that they were seeking to share in the rights and duties in raising their grandchildren, rather than having mere visitation rights. Prior to ever having to go before a judge the children’s mother agreed to allowing a court to extend these rights to our clients. Our clients’ son never answered the lawsuit and was thus prevented from weighing in on the situation.

Ultimately, our clients not only were named as joint managing conservators of their grandchildren but they were able to win the right to determine the primary residence of their grandchildren. This means that they could choose where their grandchildren would be living primarily. This was an ideal situation and while not every case can be like this one, many can and have been. It took equal parts good luck, good lawyering and patience from the clients.

What factors would a court consider when determining whether or not to award custody rights to grandparents?

Suppose for a moment that our clients and their grandchildren’s mother did not settle out of court and the case had to be taken to trial. How would a judge approach the question of whether or not to award custody rights to a grandparent?

It is difficult to win custody rights to your grandchildren unless one of the parents voluntarily terminates their own parental rights or the court determines either parent (or both) to be unfit. Past contact with the children, age, physical well being and future ability to care for the grandchildren are all relevant factors that I believe a court would consider.

What we in the family law world see happen with some frequency is a grandparent who is raising their grandchild on an informal basis. This means that there has been an agreement in place (usually verbal) that allows the grandparent to care for a child while their parents are unavailable or unwilling to do so. These agreements can go on for years and years before a parent or grandparent seeks to formalize or change the arrangement. If you are a grandparent who has cared for your grandchild for years only to have a parent try to take him or her from you that may be a situation where you want to file for court ordered visitation, possession and conservatorship rights.

Mediation- A great alternative to litigation and trial

Divorce Lawyers Houston: The vast majority of family law cases in Texas never see the inside of a courtroom or proceed to a trial. This is due in large part to the role that mediation plays in the negotiation process. If you have concerns about how long or how expensive a divorce or child custody case can get then mediation is an alterative to that may be able to encourage settlement and shorten the length of your case. We will discuss this topic in greater detail tomorrow.

In the meantime, if you have any questions regarding your particular family law related circumstances please consider contacting the Law Office of Bryan Fagan, PLLC. We offer free of charge consultations with one of our licensed family law attorneys six days a week. A consultation in our office is a great opportunity to learn more about the legal process and how it would impact your situation. We take great pride in providing information that can allow you to make good decisions on the next steps you can take to reach your goals no matter what they might be ... Continue Reading

#divorce #Divorce Attorney #divorce lawyer #family #Family Law #Family Law Attorney #fagan #attorney #attorneys #attorney lawyer #law #lawyer #Houston #houston texas #Houston law #Houston lawyers #Houston family law #texas lawyer #Texas