Tumgik
#and hopefully you get to continue on making new- making good memories.
Text
snowed in
-warnings// lots of fluff, LOTS OF SMUT
-a lil summery// the usual fan fiction trope, two best friends in a cabin, will they kiss.. read to find out
Dean x reader
-word count// 2623
(gif from pinterest)
Tumblr media
"Yeah, the doors completely blocked in by the snow, I've tried pushing Sammy it's not gonna budge, yeah okay I'll call in the morning. night Sammy" you sat on the bed as you listened to the phone conversation, you and the boys were hunting a wendigo and decided to split up, you with dean and Sam with Bobby
You and Dean stumbled upon a cabin in the woods and decided to check it out incase there was any victims hiding inside, turns out the place was empty but Dean slammed the door behind him causing the snow from the roof to barricade the door stopping you both from leaving.
Dean hung up the phone and turned to you with a sigh and dropped his tense shoulders "alright so Sam and Bobby are too far out and they said the storms only gonna get worse so they're gonna come get us in the morning"  Dean said placing his phone back in his jacket pocket "crap we can't even get out to get wood for the fire, it's gonna be freezing in here!" You said already beginning to feel the chill in the air
"Yeah.. well there's some blankets on the couch so you wrap yourself up nice and tight  I'll try and see if I can find some wood around the place that will get some kind of fire going" Dean said already rummaging through the cupboards.
You shivered slightly as you wrapped the worn red blanket around you as you sat down, your knees tucked under your chin in a huddle, there was a sound of wood snapping and dean was soon walking to the couch "so good news is we've got wood, the bad news... these people no longer have cupboard doors" Dean said with a small smirk 
You rolled your eyes with a laugh, "alright get them burning Winchester I already feel my toes going numb" you exaggerated making dean chuckle "you got it sweetheart" Dean said as he kneeled down with a light and the doors.
After a half hour of Dean breaking the doors down to fit in the fireplace he had the flame going and soon there was more heat surrounding the small cabin "any better sweetheart?" Dean turned to ask, you shook your head slightly "I think I'd feel a lot warmer if you got up here beside me" you flirted 
Dean threw you a smirk over his shoulder and moved beside you and pulled your small frame closer to him and tucking you under his arm, you snuggled into him and moved to wrap the red blanket around you both, "see I'm already feeling much better" you said making Dean chuckle.
You and dean continued to cuddle and watch the fire burn for a few hours talking about past hunts before you met each other "okay so you stuck a fish in the guys car, did you ever hear what happened after, did they find it or are they still driving around smelling dead fish?" You questioned and dean threw his head back in laughter as he thought back on the cherished memory "I hope they're still driving around with it" 
You yawned as the laughter died down to a comfortable silence and dean took notice "you getting tired sweetheart?" He asked and you nodded "yeah do you know what time it is?" You questioned "1:45am, there's a bedroom down the hall why don't you go get some sleep and hopefully Sam and Bobby will be here early" you nodded with another yawn
 "what about you?" Dean shrugged "i can take the couch it's actually not too bad" Dean replied and you nodded feeling bad about him taking a dusty old couch for a bed "you sure you'll be okay?" You asked and Dean smiled pulling you in tight to him for a hug "yeah of course sweetheart, I've slept on worse" he joked and you smiled before getting up with a big stretch "night dean" you said walking towards the room exhausted "night Y/N" his voices raised slightly so you could hear him.
You awoke a few hours later in a cold sweat, fear trembled within you from the nightmare as you wondered if you should bother dean, your inner battle didn't last long before your bare feet tiptoed through the cabin to the living room the dying fire allowed enough light so you could see the older Winchester, he looked so peaceful as he slept, like he never had a worry in his life but that was far from true…
You gently tapped deans arm "dean?" You sniffled and he groaned slowly opening his eyes "hey, what's up sweetheart, everything okay?" He slurred out you shook your head before taking a deep breathe "uh not really could you stay with me please I just don't want to be alone" you said as a few tears made there way down your cheeks , Dean got up from the couch quickly and pulled you into him "of course I can, you wanna tell me what's got you so upset?" He asked wiping your tears gently from your cheeks "not really, it was just a nightmare but it felt so real" you said quietly and dean nodded as he lead you toward the bedroom.
Deans and you made your way to the bed "which side do you prefer?" He asked scratching the back of his head "I'm usually a middle of the bed kind of girl" you flirted making him smirk "well alright I can work with that" you both made your way into the cold bed and dean was already wrapping his arms around you and pulling you close to his chest 
You sighed and turn around in his arms so your facing him, he was already looking down at you "you wanna tell me what your nightmare was about sweetheart? He asked as he moved a strand of hair behind your ear, you took in a shuddering breath and closed your eyes already feeling them burn with tears
 "we were hunting a demon nest  and they had you tied up as they tortured  you to the brink of death  and when I tried to help it was like I was stuck in place and I could hear you screaming, begging for me to help… and then I woke up" you said I'm a shaky voice as you felt your tears stream down your face
"Hey it's okay baby it was just a bad dream okay? I am right here and nothing's getting me I promise" Dean reassured you as he kissed your forehead head before resting his own against yours, nose to nose as he spoke "your one of the best damn hunters I've ever known Y/N I would trust you with my life and I know you would do everything in your power to save me or Sammy and if anything ever did happen don't you dare blame yourself, I need you to promise me that" dean said quietly 
"I can't promise that Dean, Sam and you mean way to much to me to promise that " you struggled out through tears and dean sighed and held you closer "I love you Y/N, so damn much" dean said quietly his lips slightly touching yours with how close he was, you froze in his arms not expecting that to come from dean, you've been in love with him for years you thought nothing would ever happen especially with deans one night stands happening every so often, you guys flirted back and forth all the time but you took that as Dean's personality 
Dean having taken your frozen silence as rejection panicked and pulled back "forget I said anything" he said as he pulled back slightly to get out the bed, you came out of your moment of shock and grabbed his arm pulling him down to you, he looked down shocked, you grabbed his scruff covered cheeks and pulled him down to a kiss
Dean groaned against your lips as he deepened the kiss and slipped his tongue in through your lips, you let out a small moan at the sensation, you wrapped your legs around his haps your feet digging into his lower back making him press his lower body closer to you so you felt his hard shaft press against your hot core through the layers 
You pulled away from the kiss slightly and dean moved his lips down your neck sucking and kissing his way down your chest "I love you too Dean, so fucking much" you said in between pleasured gasps dean moved back up to your lips immediately getting back into the heated kiss, you fumbled with the bottom of deans shirt and tugged slightly to let him know you wanted it off 
Dean pulled back from the kiss and sat back slightly before pulling his shirt off, he pulled your own shirt over your head to be met with your bare chest as you ditched your bra for bed, his smile replicated one of a child in a candy store and he was down kissing your breasts and sucking love marks all over them before taking your nipple in his mouth, his hand tweaking and playing with the other to stimulate you 
"Oh god Dean please don't stop" you begged and held his head right your chest, Dean took your words as encouragement as he continued his movements before kissing a trail down your stomach reaching your panties as you decided against wearing your jeans to bed
Dean hooked his fingers in the waistline and he pulled them down your legs slowly, once he discarded of your panties he was back between your legs, now face to face with your pussy, he smiled as kissed your mound, you moaned feeling you get wetter by the second, "pick a number sweetheart?" He asked "three why?" You replied confused he smirked "you'll see" he said before leaning in and licking a strip up your wet pussy making you throw your head back against the pillow 
Dean began by sucking your clit into his mouth before thrusting his finger inside you immediately finding your G- spot making you scream in pleasure "please dean feels so fucking good" you slurred out, Dean chuckled against you  and added another finger, he arched them to keep hitting your G-spot and sucking your clit making you arch your back in pleasure and your hand ran through his spiked hair as you pushed him closer to you 
It wasn't long before you were seeing stars as you orgasm washed through you "holy fuck dean I'm coming!" You squealed out, Dean sped up his movements as you panted, your legs shook as you came down from your high and taking deep breathes, your break didn't last long before Dean was back on you like a starving man, eating your pussy with such ferocity it had you weighing ok the bed moaning his name like it was the only hung you knew, once again you were coming hard and dean was liking it up as he didn't stop
You grinded your hips against his face feeling your third orgasm of the night already approaching, using his free hand, dean grasped your breast in his hand squeezing as he sped up his fingers as they hit your special place over and over again, you felt the familiar knot in your stomach however, this one felt different, stronger, your breathing became more ragged as you felt your orgasm take you down "Dean!" You screamed out as felt a wetness shoot out of you
Your whole body shaking as your chants of his name contined until Dean halted his movements "that was so fucking hot baby seeing you squirt" Dean said his face soaked in you juices you giggled moving on shaky legs towards him and pulled his boxers down his legs, he helped by kicking them off the rest of the way
You gently took his big hard member in your hand smearing his pre cum around his red tip before you started to jerk him off, Dean groaned before gently pushing you back against the bed, you looked up at him confused "tonight is all about you sweetheart" dean said leaning back in to capture your lips in a heavy kiss
Dean pulled away slightly in search of a condom he kept in his wallet which was nowhere in sight  "damn it has to be out in the living room, I'll be right back sweetheart" dean rushed out before moving away, you quickly trapped him with your legs and he turned to look at you "I'm on the pill and I'm clean..." you said suggestively
Dean smirked pouncing on you, both hands grasping your shaky thighs, you moved to wrap them tightly around his bare hips and pulled him closer as you felt his hard cock press against your core, you moaned against his lips as pleasure shot through your body 
Dean heaps his hard shaft and moved his tip to press against your entrance, "please dean" you whimpered out,  dean chuckled as he gently pushed inside your dripping hole stretching your walls, you let out a shaky breath as you adjusted to his size "you okay sweetheart" dean asked as pushed all the way inside you "yeah I'm good, you can move now" you said pulling him into another kiss
Dean complied as pulled his hips all the way back before slamming back inside of you, "oh my-" you  chocked out against his lips, Dean continued to slam his hips against yours at a hard slow pace making you want to scream "faster baby please" you begged fighting your legs around him
Dean complied as he began thrusting inside of you faster, the only sound left in the room were the moans and skin slapping skin
Deans cock was repeatedly hitting your G-spot, pushing you closer and closer to your fourth orgasm of the night "you're so fucking tight baby, I'm not gonna last much longer" dean said in between thrusts "me either" you moaned out and dean moved his hand down to rub your clit making your eyes roll to the back of your head "oh my fucking god dean please don't stop!" You squealed as your scratched your nails down his back leaving deep red lines in their wake 
"I'm gonna cum again" you moaned out breathless and dean sped his hips up even more "me too baby!" Dean said and it wasn't long until your felt the knot in your stomach snap and you came all over deans cock with a scream of his name, triggering his own orgasm as his white hot seed coated your walls.
Once both of you had calmed from your highs dean gently pulled out of you making you let out a small hiss at the empty feeling , he layback down beside you both you chests rising and falling with deep exhausted breaths “that was fucking awesome baby” dean said turning to you with a smile on his face sending you into giggles “yeah it was” you leaned into give him a small peck on his kiss swollen lips before pulling away to lay your head on his chest, 
Dean wrapped his arm around your back and pulling you to rest against him “get some sleep sweetheart hopefully Sam and Bobby take there time getting to us so we can have round two in the morning” dean said  sleepily and you smiled against his chest as you already felt the heaviness of sleep pull you away along with the comforting sound of deans heart beat reminding you that he was right there with you , safe and sound. 
————————————————————————
Hey! Long time no see, I did have a few Christmas/ new year imagines in mind when starting this account however I was just going through a really rough period of time, my dog of 14 years passed away at the beginning of January and was sick throughout Christmas so I just wanted to spend whatever time I had left with him and writing just had to be put on hold, I will be much more consistent throughout ❤️
503 notes · View notes
gffa · 3 months
Text
I've been a little slow on getting out new STAR WARS fic recs out, but in my defense it's because I've been reading a bunch of longer fics lately. In the spirit of "there's a special feeling to those fics that consume you and make you stay up until 3am because you can't put them down", here's a list of some of the ones I've loved or am in the middle of reading and they are haunting my thoughts and I need to inflict that on everyone else. Whether you're looking at a long upcoming trip and need some good reading material or avoiding your feelings by sinking into fic or just because you like reading, I hope you'll find something here! Including a bonus underrunning theme of throwing in a bunch of Jedi-loving fic to continue my agenda of making Jedi-centric fandom a more fun place to be. 30k+ is the minimum and this isn't all of my favorites, but it's a great list of "I have a week off to kill and I want to be in a fic coma by the end of it".
STAR WARS FIC FOR WHEN YOU NEED TO KILL ABOUT TEN HOURS WORTH OF TIME AND WANT TO HAVE FEELINGS ABOUT FICTIONAL PSYCHIC SPACE WIZARDS WHILE YOU'RE AT IT:
✦ Out with Lanterns by SkyeBean, mace & ahsoka & plo & shaak & cast, 312.5k     In another universe, Jedi Masters Plo Koon and Depa Billaba decide a Padawan could do Mace some good. It takes a while, but he eventually agrees. When he takes Ahsoka Tano as his Padawan, Mace knows that he's broken through a Shatterpoint and changed the course of a life. How, he doesn't know. ✦ Reprise by Elfpen, obi-wan & qui-gon & mace & yoda & anakin & cast, time travel, 558.9k wip     Ben Kenobi dies aboard the Death Star in the year 0 BBY. He wakes up shortly thereafter in the Jedi temple in the year 41 BBY. Haunted by memories and regret, Ben must forge a new path for himself in the Jedi Order of his youth while navigating the murky waters of time travel. Crafting a better future from bitter experience is hard, but learning to heal is even harder. ✦ Take it from the top and try again by mauvera, obi-wan & qui-gon & anakin & padme & mace & shmi & dooku & cast, time travel, 112k wip     Five years into his self imposed exile on Tattooine, Obi-Wan Kenobi is gifted the chance to go back and bring hope back to the galaxy. With hindsight on his side, he fully intends to save his master, save his padawan, make some new and old friends again, prepare the Jedi for a war they’ll hopefully never see and begin to pull apart all the many tangled threads of the Sith Lord’s plans. Should be relatively easy. Right? ✦ Post Order 66 Exile AU by Livsy, obi-wan & anakin & cast, 46k     Alternatively: after a failed order 66, in which many Jedi still died but the Sith were defeated, an exiled warrior and a boy wander a distant planet and attempt to get along. ✦ Remedial Jedi Theology by MarbleGlove, obi-wan & anakin & jedi & cast, 51.3k     Let us consider the fact that the Jedi Order is a monastic religious organization based out of a temple, with five basic tenets of faith. ✦ Supreme Chancellor Obi-Wan Kenobi by stonefreeak, obi-wan & anakin & padme & yoda & palpatine & bail & dooku & mace & quinlan & vokara & ahsoka & cast, 124.5k wip     By an old Republic law, all members of the Jedi High Council are senators in the Galactic Senate, and can thus be voted in as chancellor. A Senator from a less prominent planet has had enough of Chancellor Palpatine's incompetence and calls for a Vote of No-Confidence and the installation of Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi as Supreme Chancellor of the Galactic Republic. This one action becomes the catalyst that changes the direction of the galaxy. ✦ What We've Become by Vinyarie, vader & ahsoka & cast, 82k     Darth Vader and Ahsoka’s fight on Malachor takes a different path, and Ahsoka actually is able to save her master. Or rather, she’s able to convince him to save himself. Diverges from canon in the last few minutes of Twilight of the Apprentice and goes increasingly AU from there.
✦ time to change the road you're on by wreckageofstars, obi-wan & anakin & ahsoka & luke & leia & han & ghost crew & cast, time travel, 93.6k wip     The end of the Clone War is near - the fall of the Republic even nearer. Anakin Skywalker, caught up in the events that lead to the rise of the Empire and the loss of everything he holds dear, finds himself sent nearly two decades into the future. Ahsoka Tano, still coming to painful terms with the true fate of her former master, is - not exactly happy to see him. But the Force works in mysterious ways - and the future is not nearly as set in stone as they've been lead to believe. Multi-chapter AU, Rise of the Empire/Rebels-era. ✦ narrower than a razor's edge by bereft_of_frogs, obi-wan & dooku & qui-gon & anakin & sidious & cast, 30.2k     Dooku tips his hand ten years earlier because he can't stand the thought of his former apprentice's murder, and that might just be enough to save everyone...if it doesn't get them all killed first. ✦ soften every edge by gigglesandfreckles, obi-wan & ahsoka (& anakin), major character death, 48.1k     "Rejoice!" the galaxy says, in the wake of war and the dawning of peace. "How?" Obi-Wan asks. "No," Ahsoka says. (or: Obi-Wan & Ahsoka learn to live on.) ✦ hunting toward heartstill by blackkat, mace/cody & plo & fives & shaak & obi-wan & anakin & rex & cast, 207.2k     Plo has an idea. Mace agrees, and everything snowballs right into hell from there. (Or: Mace and Cody get married in order to give the clones citizen status. Before they can focus on that, though, they're going to have to deal with ancient Sith artifacts, evil prophets, plots to overthrow the Supreme Chancellor, lost planets, monsters warped by Sith alchemy, inconvenient , and Darth Sidious turning his eye on a potential new apprentice. Just...not in that order.) ✦ Cataclasm by dendral, obi-wan & anakin & ahsoka & waxer & cast, 63.1k wip     For reasons unknown to all but himself, Obi-Wan Kenobi has left the Jedi Order in the midst of the Clone Wars, taking with him a single clone. Anakin Skywalker has been unofficially tasked by the Order to find Obi-Wan and bring him home. Unfortunately for Anakin, it seems his former master is always ten steps ahead of him. ✦ Unexpected Awakening (The Rewrite) by Rhiw, obi-wan & qui-gon & anakin & feemor & bruck & jango & cast, time travel, 135.1k wip     The life of General Kenobi is cut short at the hands of his Padawan, but the sight that greets his eyes upon awakening is not that of blinding light of the Force, but the Jedi Temple he knew when he was still a youth. As he struggles to understand the path laid out before him, Obi-Wan unwittingly captures the attention of a singularly unusual Temple Guard, and that of a reluctant Qui-Gon Jinn.
✦ Knightrise by deviantaccumulation, obi-wan & ahsoka & satine & yoda & cast, 89.4k wip     There is no battle on Mustafar or in Coruscant's senate building. Instead, a small but still alive Jedi Order rises from its ashes on Mandalore. ✦ Fire and Ice by Yesac, obi-wan & anakin & cast, 111.9k     Anakin wins the duel on Mustafar, but doesn't kill Obi-Wan. Along with Padme, Obi-Wan finds himself living in a chaotic world where the man he thought he knew has become the thing he swore to destroy. Can Anakin be turned back? If so, what then? ✦ Better That a Millstone by Icarus_is_flying, obi-wan & luke & anakin & leia & cast, 86.7k     Vader discovers Luke and Obi-Wan on Tatooine when Luke is one year old and attempts to reclaim the family he threw away. Obi-Wan is less than pleased, and Luke and Leia? They have their own ideas about how their future should play out. ✦ Bloodlines by KCKenobi, obi-wan & anakin & dooku, 35.8k     When an explosion traps them in the same doomed escape pod, Obi-Wan, Anakin, and Dooku are stranded together on Tatooine. The goal is simple: cooperate long enough to survive, and not a second longer. But a shared past has a way of connecting the people we think we know—and bloodlines run deep. [or: your classic family road trip across a desert planet, except your grandpa is, you know, a Sith Lord. And now he's sort of starting to bond with your Jedi dad. And that might be an issue.] ✦ When Darkness Seems to Hide This Place by IllyanaA, obi-wan & anakin & ahsoka & rex & cast, 136k wip     After killing three of the Jedi Order's best and brightest, Palpatine's fight with Jedi Master Mace Windu goes shorter than expected. Afraid he's lost his chance at recruiting a new apprentice, Sidious unleashes Order 66 across the galaxy, but, per their programming, the Clone Army is not to harm Anakin Skywalker. After witnessing the most painful loss he's ever experienced and injured at the hands of his captors, Anakin is ready to die like the rest of the Jedi, though not before getting his vengeance. ✦ Precipice by shadowsong26, obi-wan & anakin & padme & luke & leia & bail & ahsoka & rex & cast, 253.6k     An AU in which Anakin Skywalker does not follow Mace Windu and the others to Palpatine’s office after they leave to arrest the Chancellor. As a result, he doesn’t get that final push over the edge, and doesn’t Fall. ✦ Averting Galactic Destruction by kj_feybarn, obi-wan & anakin & quinlan & rex & cody & fives & dogma & wolffe & plo & shaak & dooku & sidious, time travel, 44.3k     AKA The Time the Force Sent Obi-Wan Back in Time and Quinlan Vos kept him from Going Kamikaze because let’s be Honest, Being Forced to Come Back in Time Would Suck.
✦ Into the Archives by skygawker, obi-wan & anakin/padme & palpatine & cast, 104.9k wip     After hearing the legend of Darth Plagueis the Wise from Palpatine, Anakin decides that his best chance to save Padme is to break into the restricted Holocron Vault of the Temple Archives to search for information about Plagueis. Predictably, all does not go according to plan. Revenge of the Sith AU. ✦ Live To Fight Another Day by raemanzu, spica_tea, cody & rex & jesse & kix & obi-wan & anakin & fox & cast, 396.9k wip     Clones have their place in the universe, beyond the schemes of Palpatine. Events conspire to place Rex on the path of a new fate, one which will affect the future in ways not even the Jedi could foresee. Loyal to source material and characterizations. Canon-divergent. Starts between seasons 5 and 6 of TCW and explores Rex’s reaction to Fives’ dying words and subsequent events building toward Order 66. Variety of canon characters. No ships. Very Ace and Aro. Strong focus on certain friendships (Rex and Cody, Jesse and Kix, etc) with those friendships playing major roles. Thematically about how the clones navigate loss, trauma, the concept of their enslavement, their identities, etc amongst the larger active plot threads. Content warnings for war-related PTSD, trauma, combat injuries, and all around war-related angst etc in later chapters. ✦ Life and What Comes After by Ibelin, obi-wan & anakin & ahsoka & padme & cast, 177.2k wip     Obi-Wan dies on Jabiim. Anakin blames himself, doesn't know how to go on and yet - he does. Maybe the Force rewards that kind of thing, or maybe he just gets lucky, but when a mission lands Anakin on a vaguely familiar planet, he gets a second chance to do what he knows he should have done in the first place: save his master. (And maybe a chance to save the galaxy, too.) ✦ Knight-Errant by zinjadu, anakin & ahsoka & obi-wan & padme & rex & jedi & clones, 315.8k     AU - The Jedi Who Knew Too Much. Rex decides to stay "in pursuit" of his Commander; he jumps. Now, with backup, Ahsoka navigates the lower levels and deals with Ventress. Meanwhile, Anakin takes the Order to task, finds a little more support, and things turn out a little differently for everyone. And this is just the beginning. ✦ the massive machinery of hope by Killbothtwins, obi-wan & qui-gon & anakin & shmi & jedi, time travel, 150.1k     After the end of the war with the Empire, Obi-Wan wakes up in his twelve-year old body. Now all he needs to do is convince everyone he's psychic, trick his Master into taking him on before he's sent to Bandomeer, redeem a few bad guys, and try not to have a nervous breakdown. Pretty easy. It's not like the Sith are lurking on the horizon, waiting to devour the Jedi Order.
✦ The Exchange by MissLearn, obi-wan & anakin & qui-gon & ahsoka & padme & cast, time travel/body swap, 120k     The Daughter has a bad day and it irrevocably changes the fate of the galaxy, twice over. Or; ROTS Obi-Wan and Anakin are swapped with their younger, TPM, selves. It changes things, in both parallels. ✦ In All The World by Kjellarnen, obi-wan & anakin & cast, 144.8k wip     The story of how Anakin Skywalker and Obi-Wan Kenobi tamed each other, from Naboo to Anakin's early days at the Temple. ✦ In Another Life by KCKenobi, obi-wan & anakin & ahsoka & padme, time travel, 52.3k     Eleven years after the rise of the Empire, a favor to a friend sends Obi-Wan traveling through the multiverse. He encounters different versions of the galaxy and of himself—including one in which Anakin never turned to the dark side. Obi-Wan and this Light Anakin are forced to work together to stop the creation of a disastrous Empire weapon. But as they move through different versions of reality, the timelines become more and more twisted—and the harder it is to distinguish who they are from who they might have been. And—to find their way home. ✦ The Intruder by Hollyoakhill, obi-wan & original clone characters, 82.5k     When a vicious attack from a strange, indestructible monster traps them on a derelict star destroyer, a young clone trooper fresh from Kamino join forces with Jedi General Obi-Wan Kenobi to find a way to escape. ✦ Conceal Me What I Am by Himboskywalker, obi-wan/anakin & padme & yoda & mace & palpatine & quinlan & cast, omegaverse, NSFW, 108.3k     Separatist Propaganda is turning the Republic against the Jedi Order and the Senate sees no choice but to join in a political alliance to fight dissent on a unified front.An alliance is proposed through an arranged marriage,between a Jedi Knight and Republic Senator. Anakin Skywalker and Obi-Wan Kenobi are chosen as representatives of the political union by Darth Sidious, meant to bring ruin to the marriage and the public's support of the Jedi,for Obi-Wan Kenobi is not the Beta he claims. But even Sidious does not know of the secret Anakin Skywalker keeps, that he is not the Alpha the galaxy believes him to be. ✦ Equinox by lilyconrad, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 95.9k     During the Clone Wars, Obi-Wan and Anakin crash on a remote planet and take shelter in the ruins of a grand estate only to find they are not alone.
✦ Invictus by Himboskywalker, obi-wan/anakin & cast, NSFW, 40.3k     "He is the balance, the other half, the completion to Skywalker’s soul, a perfect dyad in the force. But while Kenobi is a simple answer, the force also sees the difficulty of the pair coming together in balance. The foundations of the galaxy they exist in pull at them, threatening to intervene in their unity. But this is also a simple problem, for the force is far greater than the foundations of a single galaxy, for it is the foundation of all. So the force enacts its will, to bridge the pair over a span of moments, of years, of eternities, and Anakin Skywalker and Obi-Wan Kenobi will fall in love, have fallen in love, and are falling in love." ✦ Neutron star collision by thedunesea, obi-wan/anakin & cast, NSFW, 121.2k wip     In the aftermath of Order 66, Anakin Skywalker's miraculous survival after his confrontation with the new Sith Apprentice Darth Vader ignites a sparkle of hope in the remaining Jedi, in the fledgling rebellion and, above all, in his former Master, who thought he had lost everything to darkness. But darkness is generous, and it is patient. ✦ Lex Talionis by intermundia, obi-wan/anakin & ahsoka & dooku & rex & cast, NSFW, 187.1k     The ancient Galactic Republic is dying slowly—an ugly death of corruption, sprawl, and decay—with the sin of slavery hanging over its every triumph. The beleaguered Jedi Knights are too few to adequately patrol and police the entire Republic, and are faced with complacency and greed at every turn. Born into a crumbling and stagnant galaxy, Obi-Wan Kenobi and Anakin Skywalker are faced with the greatest challenge of all: themselves. Obi-Wan likes rules and control. When the galaxy around him stops playing by the rules, what is a Jedi to do? Anakin needs rules and restraint. When the galaxy around him conspires to set him loose, what is his Master to do? Falling slowly or falling fast, falling through lust or falling through wrath—it all leads to delusion and moral decay. What can be born from the ashes? ✦ Atlas of Our Ruin by Ripki, obi-wan/anakin & cast, NSFW, time travel, 230.8k     Both the past and the future casts long shadows. Obi-Wan and Anakin learn that the hard way, when a mysterious holocron flings them backwards and forwards in time, forcing them to confront painful truths. But the time-travel is only the beginning… ✦ Seed by bell (belldreams), obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 44k     When Anakin falls prey to a lethal poison, Obi-Wan has no choice but use all his resources to heal him-- no matter how reluctant he is in administering the antidote.
✦ wicked thing by imaginarykat, obi-wan/anakin & ahsoka & cast, nsfw, sith!obi-wan, 124.2k wip     There are rumours of yet another Sith Lord hiding among the Separatists. The Council sends Anakin to investigate. Anakin has a bad feeling about this. or, the story of how Anakin exists in a perpetual state of intense embarrassment, Obi-Wan is enjoying it a little too much, and everything is, generally speaking, a gigantic mess. ✦ Rulebreaker/Wildheart by chapstickaddict, obi-wan/anakin & ahsoka & luke & leia & barriss & cast, NSFW, 230k     Darth Vader, the strong arm of the Sith, held loyal to his Order since they took he and his mother from slavery in the deserts of Tatooine. Until he became convinced they killed his wife. He abandoned his Order and disappeared in the chaos of the Clone Wars, presumed dead by all sides. That young Skywalker is known around town as a widower and homesteader; a Nabooian who emigrated to avoid the trade blockade; a father of overly-energetic twins and warding a Togruta war orphan; a decent mechanic if your farm equipment or maintenance droid is acting up. Anakin is a paranoid, over-protective hot mess doing his best to raise his weird pack the way Padmé would have wanted. How the hell is he supposed to do that when his kids and not-apprentice make him haul a half-dead Jedi Master home like a lost pet? ✦ more than a candle by jenmishe, obi-wan/anakin/padme, NSFW, 50.3k     "The dark is generous and it is patient and it always wins – but in the heart of its strength lies its weakness: one lone candle is enough to hold it back. Love is more than a candle. Love can ignite the stars." Or, a few thousands of words of how Anakin, Obi Wan, and Padmé realize many things, which include, most notably, how they feel about each other and how to handle said feelings. Oh, and in the meantime, they deal with a megalomaniac Sith Lord. ✦ Anamorphosis by avocadomoon, obi-wan/padme & anakin & mace & corde & qui-gon & cast, 33.5k     noun, plural an·a·mor·pho·ses [an-uh-mawr-fuh-seez, -mawr-foh-seez]. A distorted or monstrous projection or representation of an image on a plane or curved surface, which, when viewed from a certain point, or as reflected from a curved mirror or through a polyhedron, appears regular and in proportion; a deformation of an image.
459 notes · View notes
loveindefinitely · 4 months
Text
Tumblr media
༊*·˚ FOREVER WINTER (IF YOU GO) — task force 141 x reader
07 — DISTANT MEMORY I USED TO KNOW
featuring. simon 'ghost' riley + johnny 'soap' mactavish + kyle 'gaz' garrick + john 'bravo six' price + (non-endgame phillip graves)
warnings. nsfw, fem!reader, fmmmm, enemies to lovers, slow burn, polyamory, ghostsoap, pricegaz, alerudy, heavy angst, requited unrequited love, graphic violence
series masterlist. read on ao3. read on wattpad. fanfic playlist.
<- previous part | next part ->
Tumblr media
Quickly switching to the main channel once more, you go to report the status of your target, when black consumes your vision.
Pain sparks in the back of your head, your head unnaturally twisting to the side as you fall to your knees, forehead colliding with the harsh concrete as all of the oxygen within your lungs leaves you in one thick swoop.
“Sweetheart?! Sweetheart, what’s your status?!” You can hear Price barking out through the comms, but all you can see, hear, feel, is the sparks in the darkness behind your eyes, the cool, rocky surface of the ground on which you lay. That, and the all-consuming ache your body’s become.
Your hand claws at the floor, an attempt to right yourself, but the very new feeling of a boot’s sole presses against your skull, crushing your cheek between it and the rocks.
“Now it’s clear why you got Colonel,” a nasty, nasally voice spits out from above you. Above? Beneath? You can’t tell, not with the world spinning, not with everything within you falling apart at the seams. “Thanks for confirming what we all knew.”
Even with your centre of gravity out of whack, your words never seem to fail you. “That your,” you suppress the urge to vomit everywhere from the onslaught of nausea, “Commander’s a bad lay?”
The man’s – a Shadow’s – boot presses further against your skull, and you can’t stop the pained groan that falls from your bloodied lips. When you cough, you can hear the red liquid splatter across the floor. He laughs, coldly, unamused.
“No. That you’re a filthy whore who slept her way to the top,” he seethes, and your chest heaves with every intake of breath.
“Real. Fucking. Original,” you manage to grit out, through every flash of pain in your head. Your stubbornness was going to get you killed. Right now, even, maybe.
…Hopefully not.
Struggling to open one eye, you manage to allow yourself a small sliver of vision. You know where your small, hand-held pistol sits, hidden beneath your vest. If you can distract him well enough, all you’d need is one shot.
He grinds the heel of his boot into the nape of your neck, and you find yourself hacking up even more blood. Not a good sign.
“How does a combat medic even make it to Colonel?” He continues, sneering, ignoring your grunts of pain and frequent squirming. “Was your pussy that good?”
“Jealous, Corporal? Wanted his small prick up your ass instead?” You goad, every word a struggle to get out, but worth it nonetheless. He doubles down, looking up to the roof to calm himself down with shaky breaths.
The short, two second window allows for you to slip a trembling hand into your vest, grab a hold of the small pistol, raise it, and pull the trigger.
Your eyes flutter shut once more as the revolting feeling of a corpse on top of you has you freezing up. You can’t even check for more threats, not with every nerve ending in your body feeling as though they’ve been frayed, the truest form of torture you’ve ever experienced.
It’s then that you fall into a state of limbo. A grey area, an unknown, a state of something that can only be described as a loss of self. The crash you’d been anticipating. A pain-induced one, maybe?
“Love! Love, shit, fuck, hey, hold on!” 
In the floaty, intangible abyss you find yourself floating in, you’re unsure if the words are even spoken in reality. If they’re just a figment of your imagination, a taunt, a way for the gods to mock you before you fall into their clutches. 
Graves escaped, the thought comes to you through your haze, as what feels like phantom hands clutch the nape of your neck and your hip, an alarm bell ringing through the blankness of it all. He’s free. He survived. 
You will never belong again.
“Ghost Team, I have Sweetheart, she’s in pretty bad shape,” the words are more certain, this time, your consciousness slowly coming to. You think someone’s carrying you against their chest, a potent smell of cinnamon and gunpowder surrounding you that has you instinctively curling in closer to the source. “We need exfil, now!”
You think you let out a small whimper from the confusion, the agony of it all, because the person holding you shushes you with a soft sound and tightens their grip around the back of your head, squeezing your outer thigh. A princess carry, then.
Attempting to open your eyes, the instant light that floods them has you burying your head into a chest, the fabric blocking your vision. It, too, has that distinct, comforting smell.
“It’s okay, Sweetheart, I got ya.”
…Gaz.
Gaz is the one holding you, the one carrying you to exfil, the one who, embarrassingly, saved you. Out of the four of them, you suppose you were grateful it was him that had seen you passed out. A body on top of you.
Oh. God.
“What,” you croak, your voice broken and throat sore, “What. I – are we safe?”
“You’re safe with me, love. Won’t let anything bad happen to ya. You probably have a concussion so imma need you to stay awake for me, yeah?”
But sleep. It sounded so nice. You haven't slept since. Since you met them all. Since everything, since your life got ruined.
Whatever he says next goes unheard. Whatever pleas are made.
You let slumber take you in its icy grip.
*
“It’s a myth, ya knob. Only gotta wake ‘em up every few hours.”
“Brushed up on ya first aid knowledge to impress her? Real smooth, Soap.”
“The two of you – quit it. She’s wakin’ up.”
“Great.”
“You shut your mouth too, Simon.”
With a small groan, you try your best to gauge your surroundings. You’re moving, that much you’re sure of – by the thrum of the engine in your core and the distant whirring, you’re in a helicopter.
You think your head’s resting in someone’s lap – a hand in your hair, stroking against your scalp, soft and sweet.
Eyes fluttering open, you quickly adjust to the neon lights of the roof, finding yourself face to face with Gaz. So, you figure, you’re in his lap, his hand in your hair. He’s good, you think distantly, a proper damn masseuse.
His brows are furrowed, bottom lip forming a small pout as he glares at who you gather is Soap to your left. 
When he looks down, however, a grin quickly replaces the expression and the hand in your hair starts rubbing smooth circles into the base of your skull. If this is what Heaven is, you suddenly understand man’s desire to reach it.
“There we are,” he smiles, voice lower and smoother. “Sleepy head.”
You shoot him the world’s weakest glare. He, dutifully, doesn’t comment on its lacklustre effect. “I promise. I don’t usually have to get saved,” you petulantly point out, but the edge is dulled as Gaz continues to play with your hair. And that intoxicating cinnamon seems to have you on a leash.
“Didn’t think you did,” he reassures, and you accept the confirmation with a steady breath.
You try and pull yourself up, using your hands to do so, when a soaring pain through your left shoulder has your breath hitching and your head falling back into Gaz’s lap. It’s only then that you realise that someone’s got your bent legs in theirs, too, and when you try and get a look, you see it’s Price.
“Try not to use that arm,” Price jerks his chin to your aching arm. “You got grazed.”
It hits you, all at once, what has just transpired. What you failed to do. 
“He escaped,” you croak, looking up to the ceiling even when it starts spinning. “I tried to take him down. I did. But. He escaped, I’m…” you swallow, a heavy thing, “Sorry.”
“Hey, no, lass,” Soap chimes in, and with a secure hand at your non-wounded shoulder, Gaz helps you sit up, head resting against his shoulder, “Dinnae ken why yer sorry. It was one against ten.”
Your head pounds, a relentless rhythm, and when you look down, it’s to find Price’s hand fall onto your thigh and give a comforting pat. When you turn to him, he gives you a small smile. “You did good. We have to finish up another loose end, but we’ll take you to the nurse on base –”
“I want to go,” you interrupt, sitting up straighter with a small wince. It’s a small helicopter, obviously meant just for the 141, with bolted metal as far as the eye can see. “I can’t. I have to be useful.”
“No.”
The final member, the worst one, the man seemingly out to get you.
Ghost.
“What do you mean, no?” You quip, shooting daggers at the man who sits beside Soap on the other side of the chopper. 
“Did the concussion give you hearing loss?” He asks, cold, and you feel as though you’re buzzing with energy, “Or do you just hate hearing the word no? We don’t need you on this mission.”
“Didn’t realise you were taking over the duties as Captain,” you grit, your headache increasing tenfold, even with Gaz’s hand at the base of your nape a soothing presence, “How does Price feel about his Lieutenant’s new role?”
Both you, and Ghost, shoot a look to Price. He unknowingly tightens his grip around your thigh.
“We can discuss this on base,” he commands, allowing no room for argument. “We head for Chicago in two hours.”
Your brows furrow. “Chicago? Why?”
Soap’s smirk is dirty, excited as he simply says, “We talked to a… friend. She gave us the information we needed.”
“Information for what?” You ask, narrowing your eyes, leaning further against Gaz as more pain shoots through your body. He doesn’t say a word about it.
“Graves didn’t tell you…?” Gaz asks, looking down to you with barely concealed shock. 
You look around at the four men. “What? What’s going on?”
“The last missile,” Price folds his hands together, leaning forward to meet your eyes with serious blue. “We’re heading to Chicago to dismantle the last missile.”
*
“There we go, doll. Right as rain.”
The woman gives you a kind smile, securing the bandage around your arm, the disinfectant and tape underneath it along with the shot of morphine she’d given you easing the pain. She pulls off her latex gloves, a ring adorning her wedding finger.
“Thank you…” You trail off, not seeing a name badge on the nurse.
She places her hand on your good shoulder and gives you a soft squeeze, her smile warming. “Sarah. My name’s Sarah. I’d say that I’ll see you around, but… I hope not.”
You let out a laugh, and she lets out her own chuckle.
Sarah’s gorgeous, with dark features, black hair cut short to her head, graceful in her movements. A gold necklace rests on her collarbone, the pendant in the shape of a K.
The 141’s base is, well, almost exactly how you’d imagined it. Busy, well-stocked, off the grid.
Gaz and Soap had been lenient to leave you in the Med Bay by yourself, but Price and Ghost had made them haul ass to the conference room. You were all running on a very tight ship, time seeming to fall through your grasps with every breath you took.
“Thank you, again, Sar–”
“Colonel?” Turning where you sit on the white, hospital-issued bed, your confusion doubles when you see a woman you don’t recall having met before. She seems kind, motherly, almost, but steely in a way that only came with being in Special Ops.
“Hello to you too,” Sarah rolls her eyes, and you watch as the stranger looks to the nurse, her expression immediately easing into something loving.
“Hey, love,” the blonde woman says, pressing her lips to Sarah’s cheek, before pulling back and watching you.
“Who are you…?” You ask, feeling bad for ruining what seems to be the couple’s greeting. But also. You just got here, and couldn’t be expected to understand everyone and everything on base.
Inclining her head in a small apology, the woman extends her hand to you, which you take with a firm grip.
“Kate Laswell, Station Chief,” she greets, and recognition sparks in the back of your mind. This was the woman that had found out about Shepherd and Graves’ off the books treason. It feels as though a rock has gotten stuck in your throat as you pull away, not breaking eye contact. “You want to come on this mission? You’ll be with me.”
You immediately look to Sarah, expecting her to object, as a normal nurse probably would.
Instead, she just gives you a cryptic, knowing look. “I know how you soldiers work. If I tell you to rest, it’ll just give you more of an incentive to get yourself shot again.”
Your smile is the brightest it’s been in years.
“What’s our role?” You ask, standing up from the bed with the smallest of winces. Morphine has its limits, you suppose. Sarah starts cleaning up the supplies, and when Laswell encourages you to walk beside her with a hand at the dip of your back, you do just as much.
“We’ll be locating the missile,” she explains, low as the two of you walk through the crowded hallway. Her hand doesn’t leave its position on your back, and you’re grateful. “And you’ll be telling me everything you can about Graves and the Shadows.”
You fall into pace beside her, embarrassed by the difficulty of the task. Sarah had said you’d suffered a minor concussion, and a pretty hefty cut on your temple which she’d patched up as best she could. Being a combat medic, you knew most of your diagnoses anyway, but it was nice having it cemented by the kind woman. The bullet graze was at risk of infection, and a general pain in the ass, but it was durable with the tending in Med Bay.
“I’m surprised the boys aren’t the ones interrogating me,” you jest, more of a seeking for reason than anything. Why would they have Laswell do the talking, when they seemed so… interested?
She shoots you a look – a mystery for you to uncover. “Price told me that you mentioned a… questionable difference in authority and age. Gaz said just as much, and while they may be brutes,” she smiles to herself, telling of her history with the team, “They’re good men. Think they’re looking out for you.”
The only person, in hindsight, who had ever looked out for you was your mother.
You blink away the burning in your eyes, swallowing, before adjusting your smile once more. “I think they’re… wary of me, more like it.”
Her brows shoot to her hairline. “You don’t think that Gaz finding you unconscious with a dead Shadow atop of you cemented your allegiance? The two Sergeants haven’t shut up about you since they arrived. Only stopped talking when Price threatened them.”
“He threatened them?” you choke on a shocked laugh, getting lost in how… nice it is, talking to another woman. How safe, how it feels like you have someone to trust. The 141, you think you can trust them, but there’s something so different in the camaraderie of women. The inherent safety you feel with one in a position such as herself, that niggling in the back of your mind gone.
“Wouldn’t be the first time,” she looks to you with a smug grin, pushing open the back exit of the compound with a nudge of her shoulder. The wind slashes against your face, a strand blowing into your mouth, making you wince and spit it out.
“Fucking hate that,” you mutter, Laswell immediately quipping, “The worst.”
You think you and Laswell are going to get along quite well.
“Fuck, Sweetheart, there ye are!” A now all too familiar Scottish lilt calls, stood with the rest of the 141 by two helicopters. You stand across the field, but you can’t help the smile that creeps onto your face when both him and Gaz come bounding over, Gaz adorning what appears to be a wetsuit underneath his standard uniform. 
Bulky arms wrap around your waist, and you find yourself being lifted off of the ground, Soap pressing you against him with a strong hug. A surprised giggle leaves your lips, and you see Gaz stop just in front of you both, hands on his hips.
“She’s still injured, you dolt,” Gaz goads, and Soap responds by squeezing you harder.
“Aye, that she is,” Soap grunts, letting you down a touch gentler as you find your footing once more. He smirks. “But… She still owes me one for that dirty move back in Las Almas.”
You playfully punch at his shoulder. “Wasn’t patching you up enough? Not leaving you for dead?”
“I don’t seem to recall…” He trails off, his dimples deepening when you punch him again, harder this time.
“Good to see you up and ready to go.” The wind whistles through your ears, the near-dusk light brushing you all in sensual blues as you meet the Captain’s affirming grin.
Even when you try and flatten your mouth into an authoritative line, the smile seems unable to leave your face. You fold your arms. “I seem to remember you all wanting me dead or nowhere near you, just a day ago.”
Gaz raises his hands in defence, teeth on display as he swings his arm around your neck, pulling you in. “Don’t group me with ‘em. Trusted you the moment I saw you.”
“And who’s to say we still don’t want those things?”
Right. Ghost.
Laswell, standing behind you all, seeming to cast her calculative gaze over the five of you, narrows her eyes at the Lieutenant at the exact same time you do. “If you can’t play nice with the Colonel, Ghost, we can and will swap you out.”
That has you instantly ready to protect the woman’s six.
“Someone seems to recognise my rank,” You look to Laswell as Gaz unravels his arm from around your shoulders, and the woman simply shrugs, hands in her vest’s pockets.
“I just recognise another woman deserving of her power when I see one,” she says, and you might’ve proposed at that very moment if it weren’t for her wife just a few doors away.
“Sergeants, Lieutenant, go ahead and check over the supplies. I’ll catch up in a moment,” Price orders, and when both Gaz and Soap go to answer back, he raises a hand, raises his brow, too. “That wasn’t a request, boys. Go.”
They do just as much, both Gaz and Soap waving back at you as they jog back over to the helicopters.
Just you, Price and Laswell then.
“Kate, a minute.”
…Or, well, just you and Price.
Leading you with a hand on your elbow, Price pauses by a quiet section of the base’s wall, looking around you for any stragglers. Not seeing any, he moves both his hands to rest on your shoulders.
“The deal we made,” he begins, and it’s like a blow to your side. You lift your chin, straighten your posture, clench your jaw. “We – I would like it to extend until Graves is officially KIA. If we can plan a takedown properly, not rush it as much, we can do it. But it’s only right if you do it right alongside us.”
He subconsciously squeezes your flesh, but it’s a grounding motion, one you find necessary.
This feels like more than just that. This feels like an offering – a sense of stability for your foreseeable future. A way for you to find your feet, with a community, a support system to help you restart this path your life has diverted to.
“Yes,” you say, earnest, eyes not straying from Price’s for a single moment. “Yes – thank you.”
“I’d argue that we get the better end of the bargain,” Price mutters, and it’s so quiet and human that you think you might’ve imagined the words. You go to push, ask what exactly he means by that –
“Captain! Hassan has entered the building!” 
He breaks eye contact, finally, and your eyes catch on his profile in the night of dusk – the slope of his nose, the angles of his jaw.
He is, all things considered, a beautiful man.
Your heart thunders, and you pull away, his hands falling from your frame like weights. With a small, delicate smile, you raise your hand to your head in a faux-salute.
“Good luck, Cap.”
His responding smile is softened by the dreaminess of it all, the light, the nervous buzz in the air. He raises his own hand, then, a mocking of your movement.
“See you on the other side, Sweetheart.”
Tumblr media
taglist. @lilpothoscuttings @jng-yuan @iruzias @insatiablekittie @1wh4re1nova @kaoyamamegami @supernaturalstilinski @inthemiddle0feverywhere @msecho19 @nogood-boyo @alfa-jor @lalashhyl @letmeapologise @honeybeeznutz @1mawh0re @oreo-cream @lalashhyl @someonepleasedateme @letmeapologise @uhhellnogetoffpleasenowty @inarabee
author's note. i have TWO very specific. but huge. plot twists thatll happen WAY later in the fic. im very curious if anyone can guess em before hand! both of which HAVE been hinted at. a part of me hopes that you guys miss it!! :p
597 notes · View notes
Text
He Hung Up (Christmas)
Pairing: Tara Carpenter x Reader
Summary: “Christmas is literally in a few days, is the plan for them to stay through Christmas as well?”
Warnings: None
Word Count: 6k+
Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4
Tumblr media
Sam trudged up the stairs to her apartment, sighing as she got her keys ready. She just got off a long shift and wanted nothing more than to just relax. She wasn’t big on Christmas, but she was looking forward to the time off and spending time with her sister, it had been a long time since they got to spend Christmas together. Sam doesn’t really count last year because there was still a lot of recovering from Ghostface going on. She knew this year wouldn’t be perfect, but she was hoping it might be better, maybe she and Tara could make new memories and Christmas could become something they enjoyed again. She knew she was part of Tara’s dislike of the holidays, first their dad left and then Sam left. Sam had a lot of make-up to do.
The college was already on winter break but given Sam’s job she hadn’t gotten to spend any time with her sister, she barely got started on her Christmas shopping. Chad and Mindy left the first day of break, which happened to be the day after Tara’s birthday. Sam was glad the twins got to spend Tara’s birthday with her, it ended up being a fun night. The next day they flew back to California to spend the break with their mom. They all agreed to do a Christmas together when the twins got back, which just meant Sam had more time to pick something good out for them. She was hoping to get a little input from Tara, she wanted to do something football related for Chad and horror related for Mindy but despite her father being a serial killer that spawned a popular horror franchise she didn’t know shit about horror.
Danny also flew back to his hometown to be with his parents. So, the only thing keeping Sam from getting to spend the holidays alone with her sister was you. As Sam’s keys jingled, unlocking her apartment, she heard what she had been hearing every day since the break started, you. You had been over every day since the break started. The only good thing was that most days you left and went back to your own apartment, not that it mattered because you stayed all night and then were back by morning, sometimes Sam was eating breakfast, and you were already there, knocking on the door. Sam was trying to be nice though, it was the holidays and she’d hopefully have Christmas Day just her and her sister.
When Sam pushed open the door, she saw you and Tara curled up on the couch watching a movie as you not so quietly talked to each other. Sam glanced at the TV to see Gremlins playing. “Gremlins?” she questioned with a raised eyebrow.
“Yeah!” You exclaimed, looking at her like it was the most obvious choice for them to be watching. “It’s the best Christmas movie.”
Sam was taken aback giving you a look like you had two heads. “How is-”
“Don’t,” Tara tried to warn her.
“That a Christmas movie?” Sam continued her question.
“Well, you see Samantha,” you started, earning a quick glare from Sam, she hated when someone called her Samantha. “Gizmo,” you pointed to the little fuzzy guy who was currently on the screen, “was a Christmas present.” You clasped your hands together as if you were presenting a project. “The whole movie takes place around Christmas time. They’re decorating the tree, making Christmas cookies, and the gremlins even dress up like carolers.” You let out a satisfied huff at the end of your reasoning.
“But people are attacked and some of them even die,” she tried to argue. She wasn’t sure why she was playing into your game.
“People are attacked in home alone, but everyone considers that a Christmas movie,” you fired back.
“But there’s no death!”
You scoffed, waving off the claim. “Gremlins only has off screen deaths, those don’t count. Also, all that shit Kevin did? Those two guys should have been dead.”
“Whatever,” Sam said shaking her head. She saw your reasoning and it was pretty logical, not that she’d ever tell you that. She still wasn’t sure if she’d considered it a Christmas movie.
Sam tossed her stuff down and made her way into the kitchen, opening the fridge to see what she could make for dinner. “Oh,” Tara called out from the kitchen. “Can Y/N stay for dinner?”
Sam sighed, closing the fridge, and moving to stand in the doorway. “Again?” Sam asked some of her annoyance from the week slipping in.
“Yeah?” Tara asked, turning to face Sam. “What’s the issue?” Tara wasn’t glaring at Sam, yet, but Sam could hear the slight annoyed tone. Tara always got that tone when she didn’t get her way, specifically when it came to you.
“They’ve been here an awfully lot this week,” Sam started, keeping her voice as neutral as possible.
“So? It’s Christmas break.”
“That doesn’t mean they have to spend every second of every day here.” Sam ran a frustrated hand through her hair. “They’re usually just leaving by the time I’m going to bed and then they’re back knocking on the door before I leave for work.”
“So what?” Tara was now on her feet, arms crossed and glaring at Sam. “You haven’t been home, and I don’t feel like spending all day alone. Who cares if they’re here all day?”
“Christmas is literally in a few days, is the plan for them to stay through Christmas as well?”
“Maybe!”
“No,” Sam snapped. She didn’t mean to be so harsh; all the weeks of stress have just been building up. She hadn’t expected an answer and the fact that Tara didn’t see a problem in you crashing their Christmas sent her over the edge. “That’s where I draw the line.”
“What are you saying?” Tara matched her sister’s anger. “I can’t spend Christmas with them? They’re not allowed to come over and see me?”
“I want one day! One day of just you and me! I figured Christmas could be that day. We could finally spend a Christmas together, just the two of us.”
“What about what I want?”
“Don’t they have a family to go see over Christmas and they want to spend time with?” Sam saw a flash of something in your eyes, but she was to focused on Tara to recognize what it was.
“God! You-”
“Actually,” you spoke softly cutting Tara off as you slowly rose to your feet, gently resting a hand on her arm. “I’m headed back home tomorrow.”
“What?” Tara whipped around. Sam almost got whiplash from how fast Tara went from angry to hurt. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
You shrugged. “I don’t know I was having fun with you; I didn’t want to ruin it.”
“You leave tomorrow?”
You nodded. “Yeah, but I’ll call you every day and I’m getting back the day after Christmas.”
Tara crossed her arms pouting. “I was hoping to give you your present on Christmas Day.”
“I’m sorry,” you looked at her sadly. “I wish I could give you yours Christmas Day as well, but we can do Christmas the day after, yeah?” You smiled, brushing a strand of hair out of her eyes. “Just me and you. Doesn’t that sound nice?”
“I guess.” Tara was still pouting but she seemed slightly less upset. “I still wish you would’ve had told me.”
“It’s not like it’s going to be fun. I’m not going to be doing anything, really.”
“Then why do you have to go?” Sam wanted to roll her eyes, of course Tara would try and convince you to not go to your families for Christmas.
“Spending time with family is important, right?” You raised your eyebrows, staring Tara down to make her agree with you. Sam didn’t know how you did it, you always got Tara to agree with you. If Sam had said any of the stuff you did, Tara would be nonstop, making nothing into a monstrous fight.
“Yeah,” Tara sighed. “I’m still going to miss you.”
“Me too,” you rest a hand on the side of her face, caressing her cheek. “Besides we still have tonight,” you looked up at Sam, silently asking her if that was still okay. Sam nodded; she could tolerate you one more night since it meant you wouldn’t be around for a few days.
“I guess,” Tara mumbled, wrapping her arms around your waist before burying her head in your shirt. You instantly wrapped your arms around her, pulling her in for a tighter hug. Sam wanted to roll her eyes, the two of you were acting like you weren’t going to see each other for months not a few days.
“Come on, lets finish the movie.” You kissed the top of Tara’s head, keeping one arm wrapped around her as you pulled away and led her back down to the couch.
**************************************
The next few days did not go as Sam had imagined. She had still been working crazy hours and after work she spent the night going from store to store searching for a present for Tara. She had a gift card at the ready to give to Tara, but she wanted something more personal. Tara had also been silently hostile towards her since you left. Sam was trying not to start anything; she was just hoping Tara’s mood would lighten by Christmas day. The only good thing was that Tara wasn’t actively seeking arguments with her, she was just pouting and giving Sam short responses. Every night Tara was on her phone either texting or talking to you. Sam knew it was young love or whatever, but you guys had just seen each other. She herself had barely talked to Danny since he left, they texted a few times but neither one of them was glued to their phone.
As she walked the streets of New York, searching for a shop she hadn’t already been in, something that would call to her, something that screamed Tara, she passed by a bakery. Sam stopped, looking in the window at all the Christmas themed baked goods, there were cakes decorated with snowflakes, cupcakes with little Santas, and various cookies decorated. Sam ripped open the door, stepped into the shop and purchased a dozen cookies. All the cookies looked great but before she could walk away from the window, she noticed some of them were decorated with characters or quotes from various Christmas movies.
As she continued to walk down the street, the box of cookies under her arm, she thought back to her childhood. Sam didn’t like thinking about her childhood, most of her memories were tainted by the lies of her mom, her dad leaving, the truth of her birth father, and the guilt she felt for leaving her sister. When she was younger and Tara was just a little kid who loved following her around things were good, they were happy. Christmas used to be a magical time for them, every Christmas eve they would spend the day baking cookies to leave out for Santa. A part of Sam wanted to bring that back, maybe not the leaving the cookies out for Santa part but the making their own cookies. Besides loving to eat the cookie dough, Sam remembered how big of a smile Tara had on her face, usually covered in flower, when they would make the cookies. Part of Sam worried about bringing it up to Tara, she knew Christmas wasn’t great after she left and Sam didn’t want to try and force old memories, just because she thought it’d be fun didn’t mean Tara would.
Sam sighed, she had been out a little later than usual and she hadn’t seen a single shop that seemed interesting. She was about to turn around when a life-size Wolfman figure caught her eye. She looked at the store front, seeing the windows filled with other movie related memorabilia and posters. She shrugged, deciding there was no harm in giving the little store a shot and opened the door. She knew it was the holidays, it was the day before Christmas eve and the store was closing soon so she was going to do a quick look around and see if anything jumped out at her.
The store was small but was stuffed full, wall to wall, ceiling to floor, there was product everywhere. There were posters, action fingers, DVD sets, a wide range of TV shows and movies. As Sam weaved her way through the rows of shelves she finally came to the register where there was a display case of collectibles. There seemed to be higher valued collectibles, things way out of her price range, but there were also knives and other weapons. The weapons were horror themed though, they were the same style from whatever movie they were from and then they had the villain of the movie etched into the blade. Sam’s eyes grazed over the Ghostface knife and landed on a Friday the 13th machete. The machete had Jason from different scenes etched all down the blade. Sam smiled at the old man behind the counter and pointed to the machete.
When Sam left the shop, she had some slight reservations about buying Tara a weapon. Luckily for her the man assured her the blade was dull and was meant to be a display piece more than anything. Sam made a note of where the shop was, she would have to take Tara there one day and she was tempted to come back and get the Michael Myers knife for Mindy as a gift.
As Sam juggled the box of cookies in one hand and Tara’s present in another, she caught a familiar figure out of the corner of her eye. She stopped dead in her tracks, turning to do a double take. Her mouth fell open, her brow furrowed as she watched you walk out of a pizza shop, pizza box in hand as you made your way in the direction of your dorm. Sam watched you from across the street, Tara hadn’t mentioned anything about you coming back to town early. Sam also hadn’t noticed any evidence of you being in the apartment since the night you left.
When Sam finally got back to the apartment, she kicked the door closed, making sure to hide the bag with Tara’s present. She heard Tara on the phone but paid her no attention as she rushed to her room to hide the present, dropping the box of cookies on the dining room table on the way. She quickly shoved Tara’s present in her closet, planning to wrap it before she went to bed, then made her way back out to the living room.
“Alright, night,” Tara said, smiling into her phone. “Have fun with your family and I can’t wait to see you when you get back.” Sam watched curiously as Tara waited for, Sam assumed you, to respond. “Love you too.” With that she hung up the phone and looked up at Sam with a confused look. “What?”
“Was that Y/N?” Sam questioned, turning her back to Tara to open the box of cookies.
“Yeah,” Tara sighed. Sam could see Tara’s pout without having to turn around.
“They still out of town visiting their parents?” Sam looked up, internally smacking herself, she was trying and failing at being subtle.
“Yeah.” She heard Tara leave the couch, her feet quietly shuffling as she made her way next to Sam. “Said it was kind of boring there and has only really been watching Christmas movies.” Sam could only hum in response, she couldn’t figure out why you didn’t go home for the holiday and more importantly she couldn’t figure out why you were lying to Tara about it. “Whatcha got there?” Tara nodded to the box.
Sam smiled, flipping open the lid of the box. “No way!” Tara said, reaching out and grabbing a cookie. “These are so cool. Where did you find them?” Tara mumbled through a mouth full of cookie.
Sam giggled, shaking her head at her sister. “Passed a bakery on the way home. Are they good?” Tara nodded, giving her a thumbs up.
Tara grabbed another cookie and plopped herself back down on the couch. Sam tapped her fingers against the dining room table, working up the courage to ask Tara what she wanted to. She grabbed a cookie, taking a bite as she sat in the chair next to the couch. She glanced at the TV to see Tara watching The Grinch.
“So…” Sam started off slowly, looking down at her cookie, it was a really good cookie. She flicked her eyes from Tara, who was already looking at her, to the TV, and back to Tara. “I get it if you don’t want to do it, but I was wondering if you wanted to make cookies tomorrow, like we used to do.”
Sam flicked her gaze from her cookie to Tara a few times, waiting for her sister to respond. Tara was looking down at her cookie, her brow furrowed as she was deep in thought. “We don’t have to,” Sam said softly, trying to reassure Tara that it was totally fine if she didn’t want to do it.
“No,” Tara said with a small head shake, finally looking at Sam again. “I’d like that actually, it sounds fun.”
“Great,” Sam smiled and turned her attention back to the TV. Which is how they spent the night, sitting in a peaceful silence, watching whatever Christmas movie popped up next.
***********************************
It was Christmas eve, Sam was off work, she had Tara’s present wrapped, they had plans to bake cookies later in the day, and everything was going perfectly just like Sam had always wanted. Sam couldn’t stop the nagging feeling at the back of her head though. She made breakfast for herself, and Tara and they were halfway through their second Christmas movie when she suddenly couldn’t take it anymore. Sam jumped to her feet, grabbed her keys, and walked to the door.
“I’ll be back,” she said, looking back at Tara before opening the door.
“Wait what,” Tara said, muting the TV. “Where are you going? I thought we were spending the day together?”
“We will, I just have to run out real quick, I forgot to pick something up.”
“I thought you wanted to make cookies,” Tara frowned.
“I do,” Sam smiled softly at her sister. “We will make them as soon as I get back. You’re going to like what I bring back.” Tara continued to pout. “Trust me, please, I promise you, you will love it.”
“Okay,” Tara mumbled quietly, curling up on the couch as she unmuted the TV.
Sam gave her sister one last look before rushing out the door. As a surprise to no one, the streets were bustling with people doing last-minute Christmas shopping. Sam pushed her way through the crowded streets, making her way to the college campus. There were hardly any students on campus, most having returned home for the holidays. Sam easily found her way to your building and up to your dorm room. She did a few quick knocks on your door, then bounced from foot to foot as she waited for you to answer.
The door was quickly flung open and standing before Sam was you, your mouth hung open, whatever you were about to say dying on your lips as you just stared at Sam. Sam bunched up her hands in her pockets, looking at you expectantly.
“What are you doing here?” you finally asked.
“What are you doing here?” Sam asked back, a little harsher than she intended. She couldn’t help it, you had a habit of just annoying her without even doing anything, she knew she had to work on that.
“I live here,” you said confused.
“Why are you lying to Tara?” Sam crossed her arms. “Why did you say you were going back home?”
You let out a defeated sigh. “You wanted Christmas to be the two of you,” you shrugged. “I didn’t want to intrude or ruin your Christmas.”
Sam’s eyes fell to the floor, it was so hard to dislike you when you were so considerate. You were kind of an asshole and Sam’s dislike was warranted half the time but deep down you were sweet. “Why didn’t you go home? Don’t your parents want to spend Christmas with you?”
You scoffed, refusing to meet Sam’s eyes as you looked down at the floor. “My parents haven’t spent Christmas at home since I was thirteen and deemed old enough to not burn the house down when left alone.” Sam frowned, she knew you didn’t talk about your parents much, Tara had said they weren’t super active in your life, but she didn’t realize how distant they actually were. “I don’t even know where they are right now,” you shrugged. “Somewhere warm.”
“Let’s go,” is all Sam said, turning to leave.
“Wait what?” you leaned half your body out the door.
Sam turned around, rolling her eyes at you. “Grab whatever you need and come on,” she waved her hand impatiently. “You’re spending Christmas with us.”
“Nononono,” you shook your head. “You don’t have to do that. I’m fine.”
“Get your shit and come on,” she snapped.
You quickly shut your mouth, ran back into your dorm, and came out with two presents in less than a minute. You silently walked behind Sam as she led the way back to the apartment. She never thought she’d say it, but it was actually unsettling how quiet you were being. When the two of you got back to the apartment, she went in first, tossing her keys on the table before closing the door behind you.
“What did you have to get?” Tara asked, not taking her eyes off the TV. Sam didn’t answer, making Tara look up, her eyes becoming confused when she saw you but quickly lit up. “What are you doing here?” she jumped up, running, and crashing into you for a hug. Sam shook her head; it hadn’t even been a week since you were here and yet Tara was acting like it was a lifetime.
“I never had plans to go to my parents,” you admitted, dropping your eyes to the floor in shame.
“What?” Tara asked, there was no anger in her voice, only confusion.
“They aren’t big on Christmas; I never spend it with them. I didn’t want to intrude and ruin Christmas for you guys,” you looked back at Sam. “And I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you to feel bad, I knew you’d try and convince me to join you guys.”
Tara lightly punched you in the shoulder before pulling you in for another hug. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled into your neck.
Once Tara and you separated, the two of you followed Sam into the kitchen. Sam grabbed the ingredients and the three of you made cookie dough. You and Tara threw flour at each other, making a mess and though Sam would usually be annoyed she couldn’t help but laugh along with you guys. She’s pretty sure the three of you ate more of the cookie dough than you used to make cookies. When there were finally enough cookies to fill the tray, they popped them into the oven and moved to the living room, popping on another Christmas movie as they waited for the cookies to be ready.
When the oven dinged, you and Tara raced to the kitchen, nearly forgetting oven mitts as you moved to pull the cookies out. Sam had to push the two of you back before the two of you started grabbing the cookies off the hot tray before they had the chance to cool. She shooed the two of you back to the living room, forcing you both to wait for the cookies to cool before you all started eating and decorating them. With how excited the two of you were Sam wasn’t sure you guys would be able to wait to start decorating, you and Tara would probably eat all the cookies plain.
That’s how the three of you spent the rest of the night. You all decorated cookies together at the dining room table, eating cookies in the processes. Sam was focused on her decorating but every time she looked up, she saw you licking icing off your fingers, she wasn’t sure if you ever finished decorating one cookie. When all the cookies were eaten or decorated the three of you retired to the living room, Sam taking her usual spot in the chair while you and Tara cuddled up on the couch.
**********************************
Sam woke up Christmas morning to the smell of something delicious cooking. She rubbed her eyes, frowning at who could possibly be cooking so early. It wasn’t that Tara was a bad cook, she had to learn to cook after Sam left but she had never made anything smell this good. Sam couldn’t judge though; it wasn’t like she was a master chef either, she knew how to make enough things to allow them to survive and give them some variety, but they still did takeout the majority of the time.
Sam ran a hand through her hair as she walked down the hall and into the kitchen, she stopped, blinking a few times to try and clear her vision, she couldn’t believe what she was seeing, you were in her kitchen, cooking, and it smelled good. Sam looked around, seeing you were making use of the entire stove, cooking eggs, bacon and sausage, and pancakes at the same time. You flipped three pancakes onto a plate that already had a few, before pouring more batter into the pan, making three more pancakes.
“Morning,” you said, when you finally saw Sam. You kept your pace though, sprinkling cheese across the eggs before flipping it over, creating an omelet, then added more cheese on top. “We got pancakes,” you gestured to the plate beside you. “And eggs,” you gestured to the pan in front of you, before sliding the omelet onto a plate when the cheese was sufficiently melted. “And bacon and sausage,” you pointed to the other pan that was sizzling. “What would you like?”
Sam blinked a few times, still processing the site in front of her, it was just breakfast food, but everything looked so good, perfect almost, nothing was burnt. “An omelet, please,” Sam said, finally finding her voice.
You nodded, cracking another two eggs into the pan. “You guys didn’t have a ton of options but let me know what you want in it.”
Sam looked across the counter at the options, there was actually more than she thought there would be. “Just tomato and spinach.”
You gave a quick thumbs up before flipping the pancakes. You grabbed another plate, dumping all the bacon and sausage onto it. Tara came in, grabbing the plate of bacon and sausage and two separate plates with omelets.
“Morning,” Tara mumbled, taking the plates to the dining room table.
“Morning,” Sam replied, still watching you cook. She watched as you added the veggies to her omelet, flipped the omelet and added more cheese and veggies to the top of it. You flipped the pancakes onto the plate, Tara at your side the instant you were done and already taking the plate to the table. You quickly finished the omelet, sliding it onto a plate and holding it out to Sam with a smile.
Sam looked from the omelet up to you and back down to the omelet. She hesitantly took the plate but had to admit it looked just as good as everything else. “You can cook?” she couldn’t help but ask.
You just shrugged, turning off the stove as you followed Sam into the dining room. Sam set her plate down, taking a seat and got a full look at the table. The plate of pancakes, sausage and bacon, and a plate of toast was already laid out in the middle of the table.
“They can cook breakfast at least,” Tara said, shoving a fork full of omelet into her mouth. “Everything else, that’s debatable.” You scoffed, stabbing your fork into Tara’s omelet, and stealing a bite, she quickly slapped your hand, throwing a grumpy glare at you, making you chuckle.
“Thanks,” Sam said, looking down at the omelet.
You shrugged again. “It was the least I could do.”
Sam took a small bite of her omelet, and it was amazing, she hated how good of a cook you were. She almost wanted to say you could spend the night any night as long as you made breakfast in the morning. The three of you sat in a comfortable silence eating breakfast, slowly waking up the rest of the way. By the time you were all done almost everything was gone, except for a couple pancakes left over. Sam sighed, she hadn’t had breakfast that good in a long time, the diner she worked at didn’t even make breakfast that good.
The three of you moved into the living room, grabbing presents from under the little tree the sisters had put up. Tara and Sam exchanged gifts and then you handed Tara a little wrapped box, Sam was silently praying that it wasn’t a ring again. Her mouth fell opening as she looked up at you with questioning eyes when you handed her a present as well.
“Why is hers bigger?” Tara questioned, whipping her head around to look at you, holding the present she had gotten you out of reached.
You just chuckled at her. “Yours is more expensive?” you offered.
She narrowed her eyes at you but handed you the present. You happily took it, giving her a quick kiss. Without wasting any time Tara was ripping into the present you had gotten her. When she was done, she held a small jewelry box in her hand, it wasn’t a ring box though. Breakfast was good but if you had gotten Tara another ring Sam probably would have killed you. Tara lifted the lid, letting out a light gasp at the sight, she lifted the item out of the box to reveal a necklace. The necklace had a silver chain connected to a silver pendant with her birthstone in the center, it matched the ring you had gotten for her birthday. Sam might have hated the ring at first, but she had to admit you had good taste in jewelry. Tara held out the necklace for you, moving her hair so you could place it around her neck.
“It’s beautiful,” she whispered, pulling you in for a long kiss, acting as if Sam wasn’t still sitting right there. “Thank you.”
Tara then ripped into her present from Sam, letting out an exciting gasp at the machete. “This is awesome!” she held up the machete, a crazy look in her eye. Your eyes widened, instantly going to Sam, silently asking her if she was serious.
“It’s not sharp,” Sam quickly said. She could see you physically relax as she calmed your fears.
Tara pouted a little at the new knowledge but still twirled the machete in her hand, looking closely at the etching. “This is so cool,” Tara said again. “Thank you.”
You opened your present from Tara, jumping to your feet to reveal two videogames. Sam had no idea what the games were, but you were acting like a little kid, so she assumed her sister did a pretty good job. “Thanks babe,” you said, giving Tara a quick kiss, making her blush.
It was Sam’s turn; she slowly opened her present from Tara. “Holy shit,” she whispered as she took out the little box. Tara had gotten her ear buds, she had been looking at a pair forever because she wanted some for when she went for a run or to the gym, but she could never pull the trigger, they were always too expensive for her to justify. “Thank you.”
As Sam started to unwrap the box you had gotten her, she caught a mischievous smirk on your face. Sam almost paused her movements; she couldn’t even imagine what you had gotten her let alone what would cause that kind of smile on your face. Sam undid the rest of the wrapping paper, looking down at the box in front of her, she blinked a few times before glaring at you. You were smiling widely, nearly bouncing up in down in your seat.
“You’re an ass,” is all Sam said. She turned the box, revealing Woodsboro Monopoly, making you break out into laugh. Tara quickly slapped you but there was a small smile tugging at her lips as well.
“I’m sorry,” you said through laughter. “I couldn’t help myself,” you were practically wheezing. “I’ve had that for months.”
Sam couldn’t help but join in, lightly laughing at the game. “You know we did never get to finish our game.”
Your eyes lit up. “Yes!” you pumped a fist into the air.
“But I get to be the knife,” Sam said in a serious voice.
“Well, I’d expect nothing less.” Sam glared at your light jab. “I want to be the phone though.”
Tara groaned, rolling her eyes. “This means we have to suffer through another game of Monopoly,” she mumbled.
You gasped in offense. “It’s not my fault we were rudely interrupted last time,” you said.
Sam shook her head as she listened to you and Tara argued back and forth. Tara might hate monopoly, but it was only a matter of time before she conceded. You would probably even convince her to wait for the twins to be back and would probably drag Danny over and force everyone to play the new version they now had for game night. Sam relaxed into her chair, watching as you and Tara argued with smiles, you were slowly growing on her, not that she’d ever tell you that.
After presents the rest of the day was uneventful. The three of you just spent a lazy day lounging in the apartment, watching Christmas movies on TV again, even though you all had seen all of them within the last few days. When night finally came, Tara was curled into your side, your arm wrapped tightly around her as she was sound asleep with her head resting on your shoulder.
“Night,” Sam whispered, getting up to head to bed herself.
“Wait, Sam,” you called out, looking back but making sure not to turn enough to disturb Tara. Sam stopped in the doorway, looking back at you. “Thank you,” you whispered, dropping your eyes for a second before meeting hers again. “I really appreciate you inviting me over. This has really meant a lot.”
Sam nodded. “You’re always welcome here.” She looked away from you, opening and closing her mouth a few times. “Sorry, I kicked you out earlier.” You gave her a soft smile, shrugging lightly. “You’re now expected to join us every year,” she said in an annoyed tone, but you laughed, catching the playfulness underneath.
Sam went to bed that night with a smile. She had wanted Christmas day with just her and her sister but you joining them ended up making it better than she could have imagined. This ended up being the best Christmas she ever had, and Tara would probably agree with her. It seemed the cycle of tainted memories and disappointing Christmas’s were over; she was more than happy to make new memories with Tara and was even okay with you being in those new memories now.
You still annoyed the hell out of her, but she didn’t miss the way you brought a lightness to the group, even after everything that happened, even though you were still struggling, you managed to still find the humor in things. If Sam was being honest with herself, she was now looking forward to you joining her and Tara or the group for holidays, birthdays, and other big events. If anyone asked her if she were happy, you were there, she would deny it but inside, she was happy to have you around.
Taglist: @screechcat
381 notes · View notes
Text
Apple Merchant [BOTW!Link x Isekai!Reader] (Part 5)
You spend more money. And Link becomes a local legend.
I was intending on working on a different piece tonight, but the continuous notifications for Apple Merchant keeps reminding me of how much I want to write on it. And then the self-indulgent whispers start seeping into my brain and here we are. Enjoy your ill-gotten gains, Lurkers.
Part 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6
Alternate Extras: Embrace
Masterlist
TW: Choosing not to display warnings. Read at your own discretion.
Disclaimer: Don't own The Legend of Zelda franchise.
---
Lurelin village. A beautiful little coastal town southwest of Hateno with just the right amount of sun and water to make any would-be visitor green with envy. Except no one ever mentioned the humidity (enough to drown someone in their sleep, you swear by it), the lizalfos infestation (something the game got right in concept, but wrong in scale) and the sand. The Goddess forsaken sand. The damned (neverending, grit in your teeth, tears in your eyes, gravel in your lungs) sand that got into everything.
So, no, Lurelin was beautiful and you'd thought once that maybe you'd get a house there (or maybe just plan a vacation). But you'd quickly been rid of the notion the moment you'd stepped foot onto the warm, picturesque beachfront property. Taken a deep, appreciative breath of the fresh, salty air. And then was promptly tackled out of the way of an oncoming spear by Skims (bless that man) as Adino put a pair of arrows into a lizalfos' hissing, gaping maul.
The face full of sand you'd gotten after being pile-driven into the ground just added to the experience. In the worst way possible. It had taken days for your mouth to feel clean of the unpleasant grit of sand grains and your eyes to stop tearing and burning in irritation. If not for Skim's constant care and Adino forcibly holding your hands away from your face when the pain became too much, you could have walked away with far worse than bad memories and a new distaste for sand.
That was the day you decided Lurelin would not be a place you'd be spending any significant amount of time in. No matter how friendly the locals or tasty the food or beautiful the ocean views. It just wasn't worth it. Not to you, at least. Maybe in another lifetime, it would have been a dream to strive towards. But not here. Not now.
You still had moments of unease when you think of what could have happened had Skim's not been so close (as he's always been, and as you'll hopefully always have him). And those moments were more potent when you were in the small village. Keeping you ever on edge and always within sight of your trusted guards.
So, one might ask why you'd chosen to go to that very village when you could go anywhere in southern Hyrule. In fact, (in those whispering moments of weakness) you'd ask yourself that very same question. Especially as you trudged miserably through the thick, muggy afternoon heat with Adino at your back and Skims on point (who knows where Red went. but it wasn't your business and so you dismissed the thought entirely).
The answer? Shock arrows. An unholy amount of shock arrows. Enough to break the purse of the average merchant three times over. And possibly put their children in debt too. And possibly their horse.
It's a good thing you weren't a common merchant.
"Good afternoon, Ms. Mubs." You called in friendly greeting as you set foot onto the dock, casting away your (unease) irritation and slipping into your business persona effortlessly. "Fair weather on the seas I hope?"
Pleasantries were exchanged, the latest information traded (Adino was feigning irritation as he eavesdropped, but you could see the way his eyes and ears flickered with amusement and surprise at the appropriate times. Skims was window shopping, eyeing some of the more exotic fish with open curiosity) and you ended up selling several thousand rupees worth of product to the woman. Fresh produce mostly, but also quite a few ores. Such things were always in high demand in Lurelin. Ores especially, as most coastal deposits were notoriously difficult to mine with the lizalfos infestation so prominent.
More workers died mining along the beach than to storms out at sea. And that's a very unsettling thought, given the ratio of miners to sailors in a seafaring village (of all places). Crunch the numbers, and becoming a miner in Lurelin was equivalent to a death sentence. And the general population knew that.
(It explained why crime rates were so low in Lurelin, when mining was the manual labor criminals were made to do.)
Passing off the last of Mubs' purchase to her, you waited patiently for the woman to finish storing away her newly acquired goods before speaking. "I have a large order request." You said, letting a small, costumer service smile slip onto your lips. And maybe that kind of smile was something that transcended worlds, or maybe Mubs just knew you, but she immediately looked wary (by the way she narrowed her eyes, it was probably the former. maybe).
She gestured for you to continue, and you did with cool (pained) confidence. "I need as many shock arrows as you can afford to part with." She started to gesture towards her arrow display, but you shook your head and she paused. "I need below deck inventory. Everything you've got."
Her brows shot to her hairline, incredulous as she cautioned. "Quite the order. Surely not even The Apple Merchant would part with so much rupee." You kept your smile (even and blank and you were quietly screaming inside), and she sighed. "'Course you would." She sighed again, harder, wiping the sweat from her brow before gesturing for you to follow. "Come on then. Lets see if we can't break yer infamous smile a bit, ya?"
You kept that smile. All through the walk across the rickety old docks, the bustling harbor and straight down into the musty bowels of a weathered looking ship. One guarded by no less than five full grown men. All through the talks with the big boss you kept your lips steadily pleasant and upturned. Right on through the exchange of rupees (even Mubs looked ill at the quoted amount, casting you a questioning, pitying glance as she clicked her teeth), and all the way back to shore.
Right up until the moment you collapsed into your (extra, super soft, not for you Adino you prickly jerk) inn bed, rolled over so your back was to Adino and Skims (who looked expectant and amused and far too smug for your liking) and stared at the wall with that same smiling, blank expression.
And then, slowly. You put your face into the sinfully soft pillow. And screamed.
"Damnit Link! Why do you cost me so much money when you're not even here?"
Skims laughed with his entire belly at your outburst, and Adino smirked, hiding his face to the side as a few rouge chuckles escaped him.
A wordless, muffled bellow was all they got back in exchange.
---
Link stared at the truly mind-boggling number of shock arrows that'd appeared in his inventory. 6800, to be exact. Which to some may not seem like an especially outrageous number, but to Link (who usually found items in the single digits) it was a truly unfathomable number to comprehend, let alone contend with. But that didn't mean he wasn't going to take full advantage of his (thoughtful, kind, wond-) generous AM's meticulous foresight to destroy the local monster population. With feeling (so much intense, pent up feeling).
He'd take every ounce of his frustration (his blood boiling, fist clenching, teeth grinding anger) and pour it all into destroying his enemies. His worry at AM's absence from his side. His displeasure at Ms. Blue's condescending and secretive (and kind too, for all she was withholding information from him. information he'd bleed for) smiles.
And especially his rage at those Goddess forsaken, Ganon worshipping, traitorous Yiga who ruined his chance to thank AM properly for their presence in his life (because he doesn't know where he'd be if not for them. and honestly, he never wants to find out).
He'd take all those emotions and channel it into something productive. Something beneficially destructive.
So, destroy the monster population he did. And how generous of the Goddesses, to have brought him to a land of eternal rain to begin his crash course in violence-fueled stress relief. With shock arrows.
It is said amongst the general Zora population (the more outspoken poetic ones at least) that when the Returned Hero of Hyrule made his ascendance through the Domain, night became day and the land was cleansed of all things foul that would stand before him. A miracle in the flesh. He who brings the light and sun to the land of rain.
And really, they weren't wrong. For the most part.
But for those who saw this supposed miracle for themselves. They all had but one thought.
'Thank the Goddesses it's not me he's pissed at.'
---
Back to the shadows to rest.
163 notes · View notes
vodika-vibes · 1 month
Note
Congrats on your new follower event! Can I request pearl with Cody? Thanks!
It's Always Been You
Summary: You’ve been in love with your Commander almost since the moment you met him. Unfortunately, he seems to think that you’re just waiting until you meet someone better.
Pairing: Commander Cody x Reader
Word Count: 797
Prompts: Pearl - Honest Love
Warnings: Some misunderstanding, but it's cleared up pretty quickly
Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly
A/N: Thank you for your request! Sorry that it took so long~
Tumblr media
You fold your leg under yourself as you scan your datapad for the movie that you’re looking for. It’s late, late enough that you should probably be sleeping, but you’re far too wired to sleep. Besides, Cody is sprawled on the bed next to you, absently looking over your shoulder at your datapad.
You don’t get to spend a lot of time with him, what with the war and him being Marshal Commander, and the fact that you’re technically his subordinate and this whole relationship is a massive gray area.
But that’s a problem for future you to worry about. Present you just wants to be happy and safe and warm.
“Can’t find your movie?” Cody asks, his voice low and warm.
“I downloaded a lot of movies before we left Coruscant.” You admit as you continue scrolling, “And books. And music.”
He laughs and shifts to slide his arms around your waist as well as rest his head on your shoulder, “How much free time do you expect to have?”
“Well, assuming that no one does anything stupid, hopefully a lot.” You press your cheek against the top of his head and are rewarded with the sensation of his arms tightening around you.
“Well, I’m going to intentionally download a virus to give you something to do.”
“That’s so mean.” You say as you shoot him an amused look, “At least make it look like an accident.” He shoots you an angelic look, and you release a bubbling laugh.
For a moment, his expression is warm and fond, though it falters to something a little more wistful and longing. An expression that you’ve been seeing more and more on his face lately. 
Slowly you set your datapad down and you press your hand against his cheek, “Cody, is something wrong?”
“Why do you ask?”
“You look,” You pause as you try to place the emotion, “sad.” You finish.
Cody’s quiet for a long moment, long enough that you think that he’s going to ignore your question, and then he shifts and pulls away from you, moving so that he’s sitting on the bed next to you.
You sit up as well, “Cody?”
“You are far too observant,” He grumbles, as he doesn’t quite meet your gaze, “I’ve been thinking,” he adds, his voice carefully light, “about how long I’m going to have this for.”
You blink at him, “I mean…I’m not going to kick you out, but you have to go back to being Commander when the sun rises-?”
He laughs softly, “That’s not what I mean.”
“Oh.”
Cody is quiet for a moment, and when he speaks, it’s slow, as though he’s trying to think of the best way to say what he’s thinking, “I’m wondering how long I get to have you for. How long before you find someone better. Someone more deserving.”
His words hit you with all of the force of a slug shot.
“You think I’m looking for an upgrade?” You ask, genuinely hurt, “Have I said something to make you think that? Or…or did something?”  You wrack your memory, trying to think of a time when you might have even implied that you were looking for someone other.
His hand is warm against your cheek, pulling you from your spiraling thoughts with startling ease, “No. You’ve always been very good at keeping your focus on me when we’re together.” Cody says quietly, “But…we both know that this is temporary.”
“...is it?” You ask, somehow even more hurt, “I kind of thought it was forever. It kind of sounds like you’re the one looking for an upgrade.”
He stares at you hard, “I think there’s been a miscommunication somewhere.” Cody finally says, “Cyare, what are your feelings towards me?”
“I love you.” You say it easily. Because it is easy. It’s the easiest thing you’ve ever done, “But…but if you don’t feel the same way, I can pretend that I don’t.”
“Even though I’m just a clone?” Cody asks, “Even though you can have someone better?”
“You’re not ‘just an’ anything, Cody.” You say with a frown, “Not to me. And I don’t want ‘better’. What even is better? Richer? If I was worried about money I wouldn’t have joined the military.”
“I have no prospects for the future, cyare-”
“Cody is Cody and Cody is who I want.” You interrupt, “But…only if that’s what you want too.”
He laughs softly, and leans in to kiss you, slowly and deeply. “It is what I want. More than anything. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”
You sigh softly, and climb into his lap, “You scared me. I thought you were going to kick me to the curb.”
“I would never.” His arms tighten around her, “I love you too, after all.”
110 notes · View notes
autisticlancemcclain · 7 months
Text
Keith wakes up with terror turning to ice in his veins and his brother’s name clawing its way out of his throat.
He takes a moment, chest heaving, to orient himself. The details of the dream quickly fade, dark caves and towering footsteps, leaving only an impression of fear and the memory of Shiro, falling, crying out for Keith to save him, and Keith being just too late. He peels the sweat-soaked sheets off himself in disgust, tossing them haphazardly on the ground in front of him. Grunting, he forces himself upright, placing his feet on the cold tile floor of his bedroom to force himself fully awake. Sunlight streams through his window, assaulting his bleary eyes, making him grumble as he walks over to the bathroom to brush his teeth and get ready for the day.
Not unusually, his nightmares have woken him hours before he really needs to be awake. He only has one afternoon class, today, and it's frustrating to have one of his few mornings off spoiled so early. As he spits frothy toothpaste into the sink, he tries to rework the whole situation in his mind. Waking up too early sucks, but with the extra time this morning, he’ll have time to wash his sheets. That’s a net neutral, at least.
It doesn’t take him too long to gather up a load of linens and clothes, tossing them into the machine, sipping a coffee as the old thing chugs on. He hangs them to dry once the cycle is over, tossing some overdue marking into his messenger bag and scarfing down a bagel before hopping onto his bike.
His bicycle, that is. He would never take his precious bike to class. The one and only time he had, it had been vandalised by angry students. Never again.
The ride to the school is uneventful, normal, boring. Even the asshole drivers who refuse to give him space on the road, coming within inches of crushing him, are par for the course. He wonders if he looks particularly dead-eyed, or if that’s just how he feels.
“Hey, Pidge,” he says to his lab assistant, nodding at her as he walks into their lab. She shouldn’t even be his lab assistant, really. She’s more brilliant than he’ll ever be, and it’s insulting that she has to answer to him. But she’s only twenty, and whip smart as she is, their field is ripe with rich old white guys who smile condescendingly at her and call her sweetheart. No one will give her a tenured position. So while not ideal, their situation is the best both of them can come up with: Pidge gets total freedom in his lab, any resource that she wants and he can get his hands on, and he’ll publish any finding she discovers with her name as a second on the paper. That way she’ll be credited with dozens of peer-reviewed papers before she even has her doctorate, and once she’s finally got a lab of her own and every intellectual around the globe is interviewing her, she can tell them all where to stuff it and get all the credit she deserves.
“Bad news, Kogane,” Pidge says, glancing up at him with a furrowed brow.
Keith grimaces. If Pidge is looking up from her computer screen, then he’s fucked.
“Is the building on fire?” he says hopefully. That’s a slightly less miserable conclusion than the one he knows is happening.
She huffs sadly, shaking her head. “Nah, check the douchebag waiting in your office.”
Sighing, Keith does. James Griffin, head of the geography department and the resident jackass who’s been trying to shut Keith down for years.
“Keith!” he cries, grinning at him like they’re friends.
Keith doesn’t even pretend to smile at him, staring at him blankly.
“Good to see you, pal,” James continues, either oblivious or uncaring. “Thought I’d drop by and personally deliver the news. I’m getting a new office!”
The absurdity of the sentence makes Keith blink, looking at James in confusion. “Pardon?”
James ignores him, pulling out a tape measure and holding it against the cabinets and counters, barely even making any real effort to measure anything. Keith finally starts to notice the smugness to his department head’s grin, and something like dread builds in his stomach.
“See, progressive volcanology just isn’t what it used to be. Ten years ago it was breakthrough science, today it’s an ancient relic of the past.” He snaps the tape measure closed, turning back to face Keith. He no longer makes any effort to hide his smirk, placing a falsely pitying hand on Keith’s shoulder. Keith shrugs it off immediately. “They’re shuttin’ ya down, bud. I’m taking the space. I’m sure you myriad of adoring students will be devastated, but budget cuts are budget cuts, and this is a decision the department has to make. For the good of the university, you understand.”
Keith knows that pleading is useless. In all likelihood, this decision was made months ago, and he’s only hearing about it now because it’s been finalised. No way would James be so confident otherwise.
But there’s nothing he can do to stop himself from trying.
“You can’t shut us down,” he pleads, throat unfathomably dry. “We’re – we’re on the verge of a breakthrough, James, I can feel it, shutting us down would be spitting in the face of progress –”
“How many of your sensors are even still active?” James interrupts. “One? Two?”
He sounds so smug that Keith can’t bear it. “Three!”
“Right,” James says, snorting. “Three whole sensors.” He turns away, patting one of the overhanging shelves of the wall, crowded from front to back with dozens and dozens of rock samples slowly collecting dust. “It’s not worth the money it takes to keep them going.”
“You can’t do this,” Keith begs, voice quiet and small. He hates himself for his weakness in front of James, of all people in the world, but his hands shake and his blood rushes in his ears and the only thought running through his mind is save the lab save the lab save the lab. “It’s all I have left. Of him.”
To James’ credit, that gives him pause. He’s an asshole, but he’s not a monster.
“It’s been ten years, man,” he says softly. “The lab isn’t going to bring him back.”
Keith says nothing. He stares at him, eyes hard, hatred and pain alike building up in them and spilling over.
Shiro’s sensors. Shiro’s work. Shiro, all over the lab, in every way, the only pieces Keith has of him that are still going, that are not stagnant, and James is taking them away. Whether or not it’s James’ fault directly is irrelevant – Keith hates him for any role he plays.
“I’m sorry, Keith,” James says, and he almost sounds sincere before disappearing out of the lab and down the hall.
Keith sits down heavily in his – in Shiro’s – rickety old office chair as he goes, elbows on the crowded desk, fingers clenched in his hair. Pidge puts a gentle and awkward hand on his shoulder.
It doesn’t matter.
— — —
His classes pass in a blur. None of his students even pretend to pay attention, but that’s not unusual. He can’t remember the last time someone came into his classroom and gave even one eighth of a shit. Hell, the last person in his class to care might have been Pidge.
By the end of the day, he’s exhausted. He dreads the bike ride home, knowing it will take more energy than he has, but he tries to convince himself that the fresh air might make him feel less like the world is collapsing in on itself.
He fails.
By the time he stumbles through the door, late afternoon light spilling over his messy coffee table, he feels like a used battery from 1996. He slides the scattered change he’d found on the road today into one of his near-filled collection bottles and collapses on the couch, face-first, groaning as loud as he can into a scratchy pillow. He blindly flails one arm around until it hits the beeping answering machine, letting it play its onslaught of messages, preparing to delete whatever spam calls have made it through while he was gone.
“Keith, hey. It’s Adam. Just calling to remind you that today’s the day! We just left, we’ll be there around quarter to six? Hopefully. See you soon.”
With a gasp, Keith yanks himself upright with so much force he nearly throws himself off the couch.
Adam.
Adam!
The next message plays automatically. “Hey, got your answering machine again. Getting a little worried. We’re halfway there, and we can’t wait to see you. Right, kiddo?”
A much younger voice mutters something unintelligible, but the tone makes their enthusiasm – or lack thereof – abundantly clear.
Keith sweeps a bunch of junk off his coffee table, frantically searching for his calendar. He finds it under a stack of half-finished books, praying to himself that what he’s hearing is wrong somehow, and today is not the day he thinks it is.
In bold red ben, in the tiny square of the 28th of June, is his niece’s name written in capital letters and underlined no less than five times.
“Hana,” he breathes, and looks in horror at his watch just as the answering machine beeps and plays the newest message.
“Alright, well, we’re ten minutes away, so I hope everything’s okay. Please be ready.”
“Fuck!” Keith shouts, jumping up off the couch and catapulting into action. He can’t believe he forgot! It’s so easy for all the days to blur together, for dates to lose meaning, when everything is so mundane. He’s been thinking that Hana’s visit is ‘months away’ for half a year now, completely forgetting that time is, in fact, linear.
Adam is going to kill him. And worst of all, he is going to be justified.
He starts scooping random shit off end tables and random surfaces, sticking it wherever there’s space. Adam is a neat freak, always has been, and if he looks through that front door and sees the mess he is about to leave his only daughter in for ten whole days he is going to take it out on Keith’s hide. Keith shoves a random stack of cereal bowls into a drawer, stuffs a cabinet full of old newspapers, kicks a pile of discarded sweaters into a corner and throws a blanket over them. His answering machine beeps again, and he whips his head to his clock, watching in horror as the big hand ticks to the 9 – it’s five forty-five on the dot.
“Hope you’re home, Keith, because we’re pulling up to your place.”
A silver car slows to a stop across the street.
“Fuck!”
Keith increases his half-assed cleaning tenfold. He dumps every dish he sees into the sink, hacks up a lung from trying to blow away the accumulated dust, glances in the fridge to see what expired food he needs to toss. Is Adam going to search through his fridge? Probably not.
But there’s a chance.
He sees his brother-in-law approach the front door as he’s holding a stack of greasy car parts and freezes, slowly backing away as the man turns and makes a face at the car. Keith hears the doorbell ring but ignores it, figuring he has about three more rings to panic-clean before Adam gets fed up and picks the lock. He rushes to his bedroom, grabbing the truly gigantic quilt Pidge’s brother had made him, and throws it over his couch, coffee table, and armchair in a half-assed attempt to make the room look less like Keith has not cleaned in several weeks.
It does not work.
The doorbell rings for a third time, followed by rapid knocking.
“Keith? You home?”
Keith takes a deep breath, forcing a smile on his face.
Fine. This is going to be fine.
“Hey, Adam!” he greets, opening the door. Adam glances behind him, taking in the mess, so Keith quickly closes the door as much as he can without squishing himself.
Unfortunately, Adam has always been quick. He raises a perfectly sculpted eyebrow. “You forgot, didn’t you.”
“Forget?” Keith laughs nervously. “Of course I didn’t – I didn’t forget! Been looking forward to this for weeks, counting down the days, just been prepping like you would not believe –”
Adam takes off his glasses, cleaning them slowly while making direct eye contact.
Keith sighs.
“Yeah, I forgot.”
“Come on, Keith,” Adam sighs, sliding his glasses back up his nose. “We planned this months ago. Ten days. That’s all I ask. She’s your niece.”
“Just because I forgot doesn’t mean I wasn’t looking forward to it!” Keith says defensively. “I haven’t seen her since she was what, nine?”
“Seven,” Adam corrects flatly.
Keith winces. “Right. Seven.” He follows his brother-in-law to his car, forcing himself not to drag his feet. He is excited. He is. He loves his niece, and besides, it’s only ten days. What can happen in ten days?
“Hana,” Adam says, knocking on the roof of the car. “Say hi to your uncle.”
“Hi to your uncle,” deadpans a young girl, pulling her beanie further down over her eyes and sinking into her seat. Adam sighs, heading to the trunk to dig out some bags, and Keith has to bite his cheek to keep from laughing. He probably shouldn’t laugh when teenagers are being little shits, but that was kind of funny.
“Hey, kid,” Keith says, in the same semi-awkward tone he used to talk to Pidge in until she started decking him every time he did. He inclines his head at the device in her hands. “Whatcha got there? One of those ePod thingies?”
The look she gives him is so dry and judgemental that Keith almost feels the need to both apologise and pull out a fiver to pay for the stupidity of his sentence, which is honestly an insanely powerful look for a thirteen year old to pull off.
Only Adam’s kid, honestly.
“It’s a PSP,” she says, like that’s the most obvious thing in the world and Keith is a dunce for not knowing. “And ePods aren’t a thing. The word you’re looking for is iPod.”
Lordie, this is going to be a tough ten days. Keith should have researched how to make teenagers like him.
Well. Maybe not. That would probably get him on a list somewhere.
“It’s good to see you, Hana,” Keith says, switching gears. He smiles slightly, and it's genuine, because he really is glad to see her. “You wanna head inside? Door’s open, I’ll meet you in a few.”
“Come see me first, baby,” Adam calls.
Hana huffs and walks over to see her dad. He hands her a duffel bag, which she shrugs over her shoulder, and then cups her face tightly, leaning down to kiss her head.
“Ten days, okay?” he murmurs. “Then I’ll meet you in the Ottawa airport.” He squeezes her in a hug, which she returns, if slightly reluctantly. “This move will be good for us.”
“Right,” Hana says, so bitter that Keith actually physically winces. “I am so pumped to leave behind everything I’ve ever known and go live in a new country. Thank you so much for doing this for me.”
Without so much as a backwards glance at her father, she pulls away and stomps inside to Keith’s place.
“Yikes,” Keith says, grimacing at his brother-in-law. Adam isn’t looking at him, gaze following his daughter with an expression Keith can only describe as pained. He doesn’t say anything for several moments, just staring at the house, eyes far-away and deeply sad. Keith’s chest starts to ache, right under his sternum, because he gets that look, too.
“I don’t know what to do,” Adam says softly. “I’m just — I’m just trying to do the right thing for her.” And it’s been months since they’ve talked anything but surface level pleasantries but they will always be the same, Keith thinks, and he reaches over and squeezes Adam’s hand because he will always be family. Adam squeezes back, smiling tightly.
“I’ll take care of her,” Keith promises. He swallows against the sandpaper roughness of his throat and tries to stand up straight, to make up for his crumpled shirt and messy hair. The attemlt makes Adam roll his eyes, which makes Keith grin. Adam can never stay mad at him for long.
“I know you will, brat.” He cups Keith’s cheeks identically to the way he did Hana’s, tipping over to kiss his forehead. Keith’s eyes close and his hands come up to grab Adam’s wrists. “I trust you. I just wish you would take better care of yourself.”
He pulls away and Keith lets him go, watching the easy way in which he composes himself, clearing his throat and straightening his jacket and pushing up his jacket, putting himself back together in front of Keith’s eyes. The process has fascinated him since he was little; the way Adam can always pull himself back to full height.
“Besides,” he adds, pulling his car keys out of his pocket and heading for the passenger side. “You have my daughter to look after, now. If she comes home to me in ten days complaining about doing the dishes because Uncle Keith just eats pasta out of the pot, I will fly back here just to smack you.”
Keith snorts. “Noted. Drive safe, Adam.”
He waves as he shuts the door and starts the car. Keith watches him go, then turns back towards his house, peering through the door, looking for a glimpse of the kid. He doesn’t see her, but he can hear the muted sounds of a video game from outside.
“I have no fucking clue what I’m doing,” he mutters to himself, and walks inside.
197 notes · View notes
catboyfelixer · 2 months
Text
I Hope You’ll Always Be My Guardian Angel | Lee Felix
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Pairing: Felix x GN!Reader Summary: Felix is a guardian angel-in-training, and you’re his last assignment before he can graduate. Genre: Fluff, Humor Notes: Jeongin also makes an appearance in this <3
Tumblr media
All Felix could hear was pencils on paper scribbling away, students flipping to the back of the test that he had finished half an hour ago. This was not his first rodeo. This wasn’t even his second rodeo. But every time he failed his in-person assessment, he had to come back and do the written test all over again.
All he wanted to do escape the white walls, floors, uniforms, furniture, everything, and get back to Earth. The only other color in the room were the black numbers on the white clock, ticking agonizingly slow. Normally he would drift off into daydreams about his next assignment on Earth to pass the time. But lately those daydreams would turn into embarrassing memories of failing his exams on Earth and dread about failing them all over again.
At least he wasn’t alone. Most of his classmates had passed on their first try, but Jeongin being here too made him feel a bit better. He was asleep on the desk next to Felix’s, drooling a bit on the test. He always looks peaceful, even smiling in his sleep. Felix wishes he could be this laid-back about failing as many times as they have. Whenever Felix has doubts about ever graduating, Jeongin throws an arm around him and tells him they’ll make it eventually, even if it takes a hundred years. Hopefully they’ll both pass this time, and join their friends as full-fledged guardian angels.
The instructor rings the chimes, playing a melodic tune to signal the end of the exam. Felix shakes Jeongin awake, and they get ready to find out who they’ll be assigned to for the next two weeks.
Tumblr media
You slammed the door to your apartment as you walked in, and dropped your bag on the ground. The loud thud didn't startle you, and you didn't care about all your textbooks splaying out. Who cares about the tripping hazard.
Yeah, it was one of those days.
First, you spilled coffee on your new shirt. You were too far from home to change and you were running late for class anyway.
Second, none of your group had anything prepared for their parts in the group project. Nothing! They had two weeks to do literally anything. You'll have to bring this up to the professor before the presentation tomorrow.
Third, your laptop just completely died during your last class of the day. All the notes you took- gone.
Fourth, you banged your elbow on the door frame on the way out of class. Maybe you would've been calm if it was only three things. But come on.
You're lucky nothing happened on the way home, who knows if you would've lost your mind.
You hear a knock at the door. After a brief pause, there are two more louder knocks.
Fifth, someone's at your door. On your bad day.
You mentally compose yourself, taking a deep breath before walking to the door.
When you open it, you're blinded by bright lights enveloping a figure in the hallway. You cover your eyes and hear a voice.
"Oh, sorry. Let me turn that down." The figure reaches up and turns down the light coming from the halo on his head.
...
...Halo?
You look back, and see a man dressed in all white from head to toe. He has shoulder length blonde hair, what seems to be a halo floating on top of his head, and a pair of translucent wings behind him.
"Um... Be not afraid?" he says, tilting his head as if he's the one confused here.
You just stare at him blankly. Why is there a man dressed like an angel at your door.
He sticks out his hand, hoping for a handshake. When you just continue staring at him in bewilderment, he clears his throat and tries again.
"Hello, my name is Felix and I'll be your guardian angel for the next two weeks." The way he says it is stilted, as if he's practiced saying this beforehand.
"What?" is all you manage to say at first. This is so completely bizarre.
"I've never been good at this part. Can I come in? It'll be easier to explain if I can sit down and read my cue cards," he explains, already walking past you and into the living room behind you. He trips on the bag you left on the floor and stumbles into a side table, knocking over a potted plant.
Sixth.
He stands up, wipes the dirt off his pants, and continues walking like nothing happened. He sits down on the old black leather couch your parents gave you and some cue cards appear in his hands out of thin air.
He flips through them, nodding at each card before they magically disappear when he's finished reading them. Looking up at you, he smiles and pats the couch next to him, which you ignore.
"Like I said, my name is Felix and I'm in training to be a guardian angel. You're my assignment for my exam. Nice to meet you!" He puts out his hand for you to shake again, and this time you hesitantly take up the offer.
"Ok, let me get this straight. Guardian angels exist. Ok. I guess this might as well happen," you start, finally taking a seat across from him, "But why only two weeks? Do I just... not get a guardian angel after that?"
"Don't worry, you didn't have one before this and you were just fine, right?"
Considering the day you just had, that's debatable.
"Why does an angel need to take an exam? Aren't you, like, just born knowing how to angel?"
"No, that's silly. And also, I wasn't born," he says, not elaborating on why that's silly or how angels are made.
"I wasn't born either," you lie. You shouldn't be the only one caught off guard today.
"Oh, that's interesting," he responds. He pulls out a notepad and a pencil and writes that down. Did he... believe you?
Somehow you find that endearing. Just a little bit.
"Oh yeah, I have more cue cards to get through."
Tumblr media
He follows behind you on your walk to the grocery store like a puppy. Every so often he yells out "BE CAREFUL!" just before you step on a rock.
"WATCH OUT!"
He pulls you towards him, wrapping his arms around your waist and tucking his chin in the crook of your neck. He's unexpectedly warm, warmer than any person you've been in an embrace with. Are angels known to be warm? You'll have to look that up later. You subconsciously lean into him, and against your own will, you notice your heart beating harder in your chest.
You look around, expecting a bike to be barreling towards you or something, but he points to the ground where a squirrel runs by your feet. When it's gone, he lets you go, and the warmth retreats too. You turn around to question him, but he starts talking first.
"Phew, that could've been dangerous, good thing I was here," he says. He wipes some non-existent sweat off his forehead and gives you a thumbs up.
"There's no way that would've been dangerous," you start, but he's too busy mentally patting himself on the back for a job well done. He doesn't hear you at all.
You sigh, and you guess this is what your life will be like for the next two weeks.
When you get to the store, no one seems to notice the wings or the halo. But what they do notice is the kindhearted guy helping the little old lady get some organic cereal off the top shelf, and the pretty boy making funny faces at a crying baby to calm her down. You definitely notice the cute way he furrows his brow while reading the shopping list, making sure you didn't forget anything. And how he offers to carry the heavy bags for you when you finish paying. He's lifting an entire bag of flour under one arm, and two more reusable shopping bags with his other hand. He's kind of... nice to have around, you think.
You don't think about his pretty face or his toned arms carrying your groceries, not at all.
The two of you walk home, side-by-side. Your thoughts wander to what happens after. Will he go inside the apartment again? Where is he living while on Earth. He's not expecting to stay the night, is he? You just met him. Then again, he is your guardian angel. If anything, it's probably better to have him close by. Just in case. You turn to ask him where he's staying, but he suddenly stops in his tracks and stares past you, further down the street. He squints to see something, and then a big goofy smile spreads across his face.
You look, and there's two men in the distance. One is just a regular dude eating a hotdog. The other guy... is another angel. He's wearing the same all white outfit as Felix, and there's a halo floating above him emitting a soft light.
"Jeongin!" he calls out, and when the angel turns, his translucent wings catch the light of his halo and become barely visible.
'Jeongin' smiles brightly and waves in your direction. Felix drops your groceries and jogs to catch up with his friend. They do a complicated handshake and start talking, which would be cool if you weren't left with all the heavy bags on the ground.
Above you, you hear a man shout 'Mamma mia!' and when you look up, a giant black blur falls out of a balcony.
A crash roars through the street, followed by a perfect C major chord, and when Felix turns around there's a broken grand piano where you once stood.
"Ah.... shoot."
The last thing Felix sees before being teleported away is the man next to Jeongin falling over after choking on his hot dog.
Tumblr media
A moment later, and Felix is back in a very familiar room. White walls, white carpet, a white couch and a white coffee table greet him once again. He takes a seat, and Jeongin appears in the room too.
"I lasted longer this time!" Jeongin exclaims, punching his fist in the air as a show of victory.
"By literally half a second."
"Still counts," Jeongin responds, and Felix rolls his eyes.
"So what happened to your guy?"
"I think the hotdog was bad, I don't know," Jeongin says, scratching his chin. "He got it from back of some guys car. Maybe food poisoning."
The sound of the door swinging open grabs their attention, and they watch as their principal walks in.
"How can there already be two people back, the exam just start- oh"
Principal Park sighs as he looks at the two students in his office. Of course it's these two again. He adjusts his glasses and addresses them.
"You both know the drill, be back for the written test in two weeks," he says, and leaves them alone in the lobby again.
Felix stands up to leave, and a familiar phrase escapes his lips.
"You know, I'm starting to think we might not be good at this."
Jeongin wraps his arm around Felix's shoulder, and says the same thing he always does when doubt creeps in.
"This was just a test round! Next time is the real deal. We'll get it for sure!"
And with that, they leave to prepare for their next exam, memories of their latest failure already being buried away.
100 notes · View notes
shin-haneul · 4 months
Text
04.01.24
____________
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Anyone else feel like they blinked and suddenly it's 2024? Like 2023 was one of the speediest years I've ever experienced. It went by so quickly that i mistake my memories from early 2023 as being more recent! If that's a good thing or a bad thing is undetermined but I'm hoping 2024 won't go by so quickly so I can cherish it more, so I've made my resolution to spend 2024's days more intentionally.
I hope everyone had a nice new year's day! I feel like if new years day goes well then it sets off the year on the right foot :D my day was a bit gloomy, honestly, it turns out people in this city can be kinda ruthless. Hopefully that means things can only get better as 2024 continues eh? :)
Do you guys like to make resolutions? They can seem a bit pointless I think, but it's a nice thing to try and achieve, even if it ends up being short lived 😂 what kind of resolutions do you guys make?
____________
Tags: @blogger-yura @bxnqchxn @clubwnderland (💗🦊) @coffeexdreamcb @darkloversxcb @darkfaeskz @demonesseulgi @domrachaa @domxbot @doom-bc @heistkingscb @johnnys-toes-cb (🦶) @kimheebby @lucky-charmsanhwa @lunaaofthemoon @markshands-cb (✋) @moongoddesselene @moonlightchn @neonvandalsxcb @oppositesattraxt (🐺) @pillowxtalk @queenofheartsxyeji @reve-rv @secretscb @silcntxnight (⛓️) @silverypurple-rosedlions @skz-cb @/theboys-oc (👗) @vitoria-oc @wolf-sxyeon @yanjxngin (DM to be +/- from tags)
95 notes · View notes
kindlingkeen · 12 days
Note
Yo as the resident Jason Todd fan, maybe you can answer this for me because I haven’t been able to find the answer anywhere else.
At some point in RHATO, Jason gives up his most cherished memory. The one where he’s sick & Bruce stayed home with him.
He was offered it back, and told them to keep it. He refused the offer. I’ve heard that the memory gets mentioned again later but I don’t know if he ever actually really takes it back.
Do you know if he ever gets it back? It’s both sad and not if he doesn’t, because on one hand he’s losing a good memory, but on the other I think it helps cut him off from Batman. Which really might be good for him (looks at all the other comic issues w how Bruce has treated Jason)
Hey, anon. Thanks for the ask! 💙
I’m by no means an expert on the comics, but I did have a bit of a comic-buying hissy fit a bunch of months ago trying to answer this exact question for myself. Here’s what I concluded (complete with pretty pictures because I’m a firm believer in citing your sources):
So in the new 52 rhato #3 (written by Scott Lobdell), Jay, Roy and Kori each give up their most cherished memory to gain entrance to the Chamber of All. The memories are held by Sa’ru (an all powerful being is also apparently a bratty child?).
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Sa’ru gives Roy and Kori their memories back when they exit the chamber, but Jay refuses his.
Tumblr media
Skip forward a bunch of issues to rhato #19 and Jason actually has Sa’ru take all his memories after a thing with the Joker (that’s a whole different blog post) and he ends up with complete amnesia. The series is being written by James Tynion at this point, not Scott Lobdell.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
But Jason eventually gets all of his memories back in rhato #26.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
I think you can make a reasonable argument that Tynion intended this to include his most cherished memory, as Jason talks about remembering his finest moments, his lowest moments, etc. Note, the series is still being written by Tynion.
But now skip way way ahead to rhato rebirth #34, and we get this exchange. 
Tumblr media
So, no, I guess he didn’t get it back? Note, that the series is back to being written by Lobdell at this point.
Honestly, I think this is just another stellar example of dc saying, continuity, consistency? What are these strange and foreign concepts? And thus authors doing whatever they want, to hell with any prior storylines. Tynion was clearing going for an arc where Jason reclaimed his memories. Lobdell had a different idea in mind.
I don’t know that it really matters either way. I mean it’s one memory, right? So even if it’s gone, Jason’s second most cherished memory just moves up into spot numero uno. Based on how much Bruce clearly meant to Jason, and that Bruce was actually a good Dad in most of the comics featuring Robin!Jason, I’m guessing that that memory is of the two of them together, too.
I’d say go with whatever makes you happy and fits your own head canons for Jason. I hate the whole storyline and pretend it doesn’t exist while I stick my tongue out at dc and tell them liberally to fuck right off.
Hopefully that was helpful/informative, or at least worth a merit badge toward my resident Jason Todd fan status (I’m expecting my vest in the mail any day now).
55 notes · View notes
ihaechans · 1 year
Text
Reminiscing || Mark Lee
Tumblr media
PAIRING ▸ Mark Lee x fem!reader
GENRES ▸ best friends to lovers, big fluff
WARNINGS/CONTENT ▸ profanity, sweet Mark, Y/n character development is real, literally just sickening fluff...
SUMMARY ▸Time flies. Especially with best friend and nerdy ride or die Mark Lee. Reminiscing on the rooftop leads to foreign emotions and forgotten memories to rise to the surface, and the obvious tension between you two can no longer be avoided.
WORD COUNT▸1.7k
A/N▸ Head empty.... just boyfriend Mark Lee. (Dead serious this has been in my drafts for 8 months.)
ALSOOO this was originally supposed to be smut but I decided to take it out and make it a cute fluffy story because it’s my first fic back 😭
Tumblr media
You couldn’t accept that there could be other men out there named Mark Lee. The idea of someone having a completely different look and persona than the one of your best friend completely baffled you.
In your heart, your Mark was the greatest one. The only one you truly needed to keep going in life as well.
You were always one of the castaways at your school. Unknown. Boring. Friendless. It was always something you were used to.
It wasn’t exactly bad though. You actually quite enjoyed having so much time to focus on your studies since you were never invited to parties or friendly hangouts, but there was always this feeling. A feeling of loneliness and despair.
In complete solitude, you would study from dusk til dawn. Barely even glancing away from your computer screen throughout the day. The only time you would bother to check your phone was to see if your mom had texted you, which you admitted, was kind of humiliating.
No one ever would have thought an accidental text to the wrong number would start the strange friendship between you and Mark Lee, one of the more popular members of one of the biggest frats on campus.
Unknown Number:  Yo Jaeminnnn! Just got your new number man :) It’s mark btw
You: This isn’t Jaemin. Wrong number “Mark”.
Unknown Number: My bad. Why is my name in quotes though? I promise I’m the real Mark dude :(
You: You can be some weirdo trying to get my phone information by pretending to be one of my classmates. Who knows if you’re really Mark?
Unknown Number: I do… because I am the real Mark 🤦‍♂️ who is this anyway so I can save your number?
You: It’s y/n. You shouldn’t need to save my contact anyways. We won’t ever text again after this.
Mark: I like to be friendly with everyone just in case. Maybe you should try it instead of accusing me of being a criminal when you don’t even know me 😁
You: Goodbye Mark. You’re wasting my precious study time and you’re kind of annoying :)
You couldn’t imagine how any of your fellow students looked so relaxed and at ease with the endless piles of work. It was completely mind boggling.
Mark and his friends were those sort of people, and you were always jealous of them. How they continued to stay on top of assignments? You would never know.
“You were such an asshole when we first met.” His presence catches you off guard, but you can recognize that chuckle from anywhere. Silently turning your body to face him, you smile, dismissing his brutally honest comment.
“Well. I never knew having friends could be so…”
He finished your thought for you, “Life changing? Exciting? Eye opening?”
“Mhm.” You hum, mindlessly patting the spot next to you on the balcony, expecting him to plop down in the exact spot any second now.
“I admit, I was a complete bitch for no reason.” You stare at the sunset as you speak, knowing that Mark is simply listening in. “I was jealous of you. You were so effortlessly funny and friendly. Everyone knew and loved you, plus you got exceptionally good grades.”
Honestly, you don’t know why you were admitting to any of this. It made you feel as if you were a terrible person. Hopefully mark didn’t see you that way.
You sigh, “I wanted to be you. It was so unfair how I practically slaved away all day and night while you and your friends were out partying every other day yet still managing to pass. I wanted that to be me.”
You stare at Mark now, waiting to him to respond to such a presumptuous confession.
He was smiling, a smile full of love and kindness. He huffs out a laugh, you should’ve known he could never hate you. He could never hate anyone, no matter how wrong they could treat him.
“Can I admit something too?” He’s staring straight into your eyes now, a serious look taking over his features. “That day, I didn’t know it was your number, but-“ he clears his throat, bracing himself for the things he was about to admit to.
“I was interested in you before we became friends. You seemed pretty chill, but I never approached you since you always seemed like you wanted nothing to do with the human species. You were also really pretty…”
You ignore the butterflies that erupt in your stomach, and hopefully Mark couldn’t see the slight blush that appeared on your face.
He lays down onto his back, laughing with his arms behind his head for support. “Aren’t you glad I didn’t give up on you?” He teases, poking you in the side with his elbow gently.
You smile and hit him on the shoulder playfully, rolling over onto your side to look at him. “Aren’t you glad I didn’t block you as soon as you texted me?”
He laughs even harder now, admitting that he found it funny how you seemed so intimidating over text but in person you were completely different.
“You wouldn’t even remember me if I hadn’t kept texting though,” he responds, ending the sentence with another chuckle.
“Wish I blocked you sooner so I didn’t start warming up to your annoying ass.” You speak with a serious expression, but one glance at Mark is all it takes for a laugh to force its way out, his own laughter causing you to giggle even harder.
“God, I love you Y/n. Seriously. You’re the best friend I could ever ask for.”
There it is. “Best friend”. All hope for you was over. You’ve officially been friend-zoned.
You ponder for a moment, thinking about all that he’s done for you and considering how easily things could’ve been different if you weren’t such a jealous bitch in the beginning.
Your friendship could’ve been so much stronger by now if you had accepted his kindness from the start, and you mentally scold yourself for it.
“Say it back.” He orders, perking up from his relaxed position and scooting closer to your body in between every passing second. “Say it back before it’s too late.”
“Why should I? Admitting I wanted to be you is already embarrassing enough. My embarrassment level is already full for today, tell me again tomorrow and maybe I’ll answer.”
“Alright then,” he tsks, “Guess I’ll just have to tickle you until you admit you love me back.”
Your eyes widen in genuine terror. You absolutely hated getting tickled and promised you would personally file a complaint to the police if Mark ever even thought about tickling you.
“Mark. Stop.”
“Say it back, idiot.”
Hissing through your teeth, you prepare for the worst. You’d rather just tell him you love him back than endure his attacks of merciless tickles and teasing.
Conceding defeat, you blink at him and fight the embarrassing grin that wants to appear on your lips. “I love you too Mark.” Hearing yourself say those words out loud almost has you jumping up and down with embarrassment and sending shivers down your spine.
You take a deep breath, trying to stay in control of your emotions.
He smiles, feeling content with your words. You’ve been friends for so long, and now you’ve finally mustered up the courage to tell him how you feel.
Countless times, he’s told you he loves you, but you’ve never said it back until now. You felt like a brand new person.
There’s a comfortable beat of silence before he speaks up, distrusting the moment of pure silence.
“Isn’t the sunset so pretty?” He murmurs, eyes completely focused on something else.
“Mark. You’re not even looking at the sunset,” you laugh, seeming to be completely clueless at what he was hinting at.
He chuckles at your ignorance before taking your hands into his and looking you in the eye. “Y/n. You’re pretty.” Your breath catches in your throat, “I like you. I thought it would be so obvious by now. I’ve been hinting at it for ages but you’re just so clueless it seems like this is the only way you would ever realize.”
He grins sheepishly, wincing as he awaits your reaction.
The only thing you can do is stare at him wide eyed, jaw almost completely on the floor at the sudden confession. “You like me?”
“Mhm.” He mumbles, scooting even closer to you, his eyes gazing straight at your lips.
He moves forward, cupping your face with his hands so he can finally attempt to kiss you.
Mark had no idea why he was feeling so bold in that moment. This situation could either go extremely terrible or surprisingly well.
He stops before his lips touch yours, giving you a second to push him away if you really needed to. You lightly grasp his side and he smiles before connecting your lips together.
It feels like heaven, almost like you two were meant to be. You wonder why you hadn’t done this sooner, and then remember that you were the one being so blinded by friendship that you dismissed his obvious flirting as teasing all this time.
All of Marks emotions embrace him as he backs away, warmth and comfort echoing between the two of you. Mark is a mess, face red and hands jittering uncontrollably and you find it quite amusing.
“I cant believe I actually just did that…” Mark is so overwhelmed as he retreats, barely able to keep his composure as he nearly fumbles with his words.
Your cheeks flush with the realization that you had just kissed Mark. You struggle to keep a grin from forming on your face. “Me neither…” you mumble, bringing a hand up to your lips, still shocked.
Mark smiles at you with adoration, mustering up the courage to finally say what he’s been holding back for the last few years. “Y/n, will you be my girlfriend?”
He looks into your eyes in anticipation, barely able to contain his eagerness as he awaits for an answer.
“Mark, are you seriously asking me that right now?” You laugh, watching as marks smile fades away slightly in confusion. “How could I ever reject you?”
A sweet smile forms on your face, and the look of confusion soon leaves marks features as you kiss him again, making sure he understands that you are in fact, now his girlfriend.
267 notes · View notes
iamqueenpotato · 1 year
Text
Hurts Like Hell Final Part
Azriel x Reader
A/N- This constant support that you all have given me is something I will always be thankful for, seeing you guys enjoy my writing has been the best thing ❤️ This is the last part! Took me a bit longer to make sure I ended it correctly, kinda had a little burnout this past week 🙃 so hopefully, you guys are satisfied with the ending! Enjoy!
⚠️: None!
Word Count: 4.3k
Part One Part Two
Tumblr media
Healing wasn’t easy, it took a lot of willpower on your end. But the more you tried, the better you began to feel. Lucien started giving you more tasks, and more errands to run. Forcing you to get out of the house, interact with new people, and enjoy the sunlight on the walks the two of you took. You never once held in your feelings, never let them have the chance to take control. Though there were days you wanted to do nothing but lie in bed, especially when certain memories would resurface, ones of a certain Illyrian. And there were times you wanted to beg Lucien to leave you be, to let you spend your days trapped in your room, away from it all but you would remind yourself of the why of it, remembering that going back down that road of despair would cause more damage than good.
Lucien admired the perseverance you showed. He reminded you daily of how proud he was of you, continuing to be the supportive friend you needed. It would be a lie if you said you haven't cried in these past couple of months, there were plenty of tears shed during the late nights, during any time of the day, but you truly were feeling that your heart was finally healing, all of the fears and doubts that sat so deep within you were slowly becoming a distant memory. In the process, you learned to do something you thought you never could do. You finally learned how to love yourself. Mistakes and all.
Learning how to love yourself was difficult, it took many tries to believe that you were capable of it but you discovered you were worthy of love, even the parts that you had despised for years, the pieces of you that you had long deemed unlovable. It was a time you spent truly discovering who you were, and who you could become, with and without your mate. Though heartbreak and immense pain caused you to arrive at this moment. To this point of healing. It had benefited you more than you would ever have realized. The best part of it all was you were never alone, you had Lucien, and when they could, your friends from the inner circle would come and visit you, and spend a day or two catching up. And when they left to go back home, there was a large part of you that wanted to follow.
Then after a few months had passed, you decided it was time to go home. You were ready, to be back in Velaris. To see Azriel. And have that conversation that the both of you had put off for far too long. There was once anger and heartache within you, the two things that you had thought would occupy you for years, but when you began to change, and you learned to accept them, they had begun to dim. Though your heart still ached for your mate, and the pain that he had put himself and you through had dampened a bit your spirit, you were prepared to talk to him, to hear him out. To see if that bond between you two was still worth repairing.
It was late into the night when you decided to tell Lucien of your plans, as you walked down the steps of the cabin, you found him lounging on the sitting room couch, various papers in his hands. When he spotted you he placed them down, moving over so you could sit next to him. “It’s late, what are you still doing up?” He asked.
“I am ready to go back.” Your words came out quick, like a breath you had been holding in for too long.
Lucien sat up straight, his eyes studying your face, trying to find any sort of second-guessing from you. But this was a decision you thought about for a while and you were certain this is what your next step was going to be. When Lucien realized there was no doubt in your choice he smiled, pulling you into a tight embrace. “I am so proud of you.” He pulled away, cupping your hands within his. You couldn’t help but smile back.
“Lucien there are no words that can express how grateful I am for your support, I will never forget what you have done for me.” You choked out, not expecting to cry saying goodbye. Though it wasn’t truly goodbye, Lucien became your best friend through this, and going forward he would always be a part of your life. But the time you spent with him, the healing that so greatly involved him, it would be hard to leave this place behind. He brought his hand to your cheek, wiping away the tears. You looked up at him, seeing the freshly fallen tears down his own cheeks. “You have been by my side this entire time, even when I thought I didn’t deserve anything, so thank you, Lucien. For being my friend.” You smiled, letting out a breathy laugh, and he smiled right back.
“I am going to miss having you around here Y/N.” Lucien spoke quietly, as if he were trying to dim the emotion within him. You wrapped your arms around his neck, hugging him with all the strength you had.
“You have to come to visit, you don’t have a choice.” You spoke, burying your head in his shoulder. He wrapped his arms around your waist, you could feel his tears as they fell onto your shirt.
“Yes ma’am” He choked out as he pulled away, smiling so brightly at you. The two of you stared at each other for a moment, wiping your tears away, both of your noses sniffling. Then the two of you broke out into a fit of laughter, that was soon followed by more tears. And more hugging.
The next morning you awoke on the couch, not having ever gone back up to your room, the two of you spent the rest of the night talking, about anything, the night was filled with many moments of tears but there wasn’t sadness in any of it, Lucien made sure to tell you over and over how proud he was of you and admiring the strength you had built over these months, which only seemed to make you cry more.
Lucien’s figure was spread across the carpet by the fire, still sound asleep as you sat up. You grabbed the pillow behind you, softly throwing it towards Lucien, aiming for his chest but instead landing directly on his face with a loud smack. A little bubble of laughter escaped your throat as he rolled over, groaning, pulling the pillow away from his face. “Maybe I won’t miss you.” He joked, giving you a small smirk, his eyes still closed. You gasped, grabbing another pillow, this time throwing it with a little more force. Laughing loudly you stood up, making your way toward the bathroom to shower. It was time to get ready for your trip back home.
You had written a letter to Cassian the night before, telling him of your plans, though you got no response, the sudden knock at the cabin door could only be one person. You placed the last bit of your clothes in your bag before rushing over to the door, opening it up with eagerness. Cassian smiled widely at you, he stretched his arms wide, inviting you to embrace him, which you did without hesitation. He hugged you so tight it felt like you would crack in half, but you smiled through it, holding him with equal ferocity.
“I had to stop myself from flying over here last night, Nesta actually had to hold me back.” Cassian laughed as he placed you back down on the ground.
You shared his laughter, your smile growing wider each second until your cheeks hurt. “Who else knows?”
“Just Nesta, for now, I assume she told Feyre, but I made sure they said nothing to Az, my lips are sealed this time.” You felt Lucien appear behind you, Cassian reached behind you to give him a firm handshake, while his other hand rested on Lucien’s shoulder. “Thank you for taking care of her, she’s family, and I wouldn’t have anyone else by her side during this,” Cassian added, the sentiment was almost enough to make you cry. Cas smiled at you, motioning to move past you into the cabin. “I’ll grab your bag Y/N, let you say goodbye.”
You turned towards Lucien, your chin trembled as you gave him one last hug. “Thank you again, Lucien, I will see you sometime soon.” You pulled away.
He smiled at you, a strong hold on your hand. “Remember you are strong, you are worthy of love Y/N. Don’t accept anything less than what you deserve.”
“I promise. You do the same.” You spoke as you turned to Cassian, who was walking back down the stairs, your bag in hand. Lucien let go of your hand, standing in the doorway as Cassian lifted you in his arms. “Goodbye Lucien.”
“Goodbye Y/N.” And with that you were in the air, the cabin just a small spec across the land, but always would remain a large piece within your heart.
Velaris was as beautiful as you remembered, you stared down at the city below, admiring all that you had missed so dearly.
The two of you landed in front of your townhome, you took a moment to steady yourself, one breath in, one breath out. Cassian held your hand, smiling down at you. “I need you to close your eyes for me kiddo.”
You looked at him with skepticism in your eyes. “Why?” You asked.
“Do you trust me?”
“Usually, but at this particular moment, I’m not so sure.” You laughed as Cassian gave you a playful nudge. He moved behind you, placing one large hand over your eyes. He walked slowly, guiding you to what you figured was the front door. “Cassian what is going on?” You questioned, hoping he wasn’t tricking you in some way. You heard the door unlock, a quiet array of whispers. Anticipation ate at your gut as Cassian slowly moved his hand away, and when you opened your eyes, you found all your friends standing in your living room. All of them yelled an array of “Welcome home!” Mor was the first one to hug you, then Nesta and Feyre, then finally Rhys. Amren gave you a small smile from behind her glass. You spotted Elain sitting quietly in the corner, who offered you a small wave, and you politely returned the gesture. You turned back towards Cassian, placing your hands on your hips. “You couldn’t keep it a secret huh?” Though your tone was filled with sarcasm, you had a giant smile across your face.
“I couldn’t ruin the surprise. What can I say? Everyone was super excited to hear you were coming back.” Cassian smiled, shrugging his shoulders. But there was one person still missing. You did not see him when you walked in, and as your eyes scanned the room he was nowhere to be found. Rhys came up behind you, his hand resting on your shoulder as he leaned down to speak quietly in your ear. “He has been on a mission for the past couple of days. He will be back tonight. I did not tell him you were coming.” As you looked towards the Highlord you mentally slammed your walls back up, but you nodded in acknowledgment.
The rest of the day you spent drinking and catching up with everyone. It felt so good to be back home with the family you thought you never would have, and when you looked around the room you mentally noted that if things worked out between you and your mate, you would buy more furniture, with Cassian sitting on the ground, Amren’s short stature taking the entire couch, Rhys and Feyre cuddled up on the chair, while Nesta on the other, you didn’t have the seating to entertain. But the thought made you smile, who would’ve known of the many problems you would have faced in your life, not having the space to entertain your friends would be one of them. And when it was time to play cards, everyone found a spot on the floor.
“I think I am going to head out.” A small voice spoke up above the rest. You looked over to Elain, who hadn’t said a single word the entire time, stand up and swiftly move towards the exit, you and your friends watched as she closed the door behind her.
You placed down your cards. “No cheating.” You spoke before standing up and following Elain out the door.
“Elain!” You called out. She stopped moving, turning to face you. “Are you okay?” She kept her head low as you approached her, her hands folded in front of her.
“Y/N why are you so nice to me?” She choked out. “I played a part in the fallout between you and Azriel.”
“Did you do it on purpose?” You asked.
Her head shot upward, Elain’s eyes were wide as she stared at you. “No-no of course not, I would never.”
You placed a hand on her arm, smiling shyly at her. “Then I have no reason to be anything but nice to you. Elain I never had anything against you, I think you are a wonderful woman. Things got complicated between Azriel and me and somehow you ended up in the center of it, but if you didn’t do it on purpose, then why should I be mad?”
Elain smiled at you, and a single tear fell down her cheek as she moved to hug you. “Thank you.” She whispered. You would have never thought that Elain would have become this troubled over the situation, but maybe she truly saw it as her fault, and you were glad that you were the person to tell her otherwise.
She pulled away, waving goodbye as she walked down the street. When you walked back into your home, your friends gazes followed your movements as you found your seat back in the circle. “What?” You asked.
“Oh, nothing,” Nesta spoke up. “It’s good to have you back, Y/N.” She smiled, softly nudging you with her shoulder. You all went back to playing your game and you couldn’t tell if it was just in your head but it felt as though more pieces of your soul healed. And you could thank your found family for it.
Once the sun set, your friends decided it was time to leave, after a long goodbye you were left standing in the middle of your living room. Being alone in your townhome again brought back so many emotions, both good and bad. But it felt right. It no longer was a place that you associated with your pain. You knew Azriel wouldn’t be home for some time. But waiting made a small bundle of nerves grow in your stomach, you rubbed at your chest as if that would help the growing nerves.
But that also meant you had time to truly prepare yourself for this conversation. As you walked around your home, you didn’t realize how much you missed this place, the shared library, your kitchen, and all the memories it holds. The photos that lined the hallway walls of you and your mate, the family you shared. Though you were gone for months nothing had changed, it was as if you were never gone in the first place.
You walked into your bedroom, the last place you truly talked to Azriel. His leathers were tossed all around his side of the room, though your side of the room was clean. Except for the fact that your side of the bed had been slept in, while Azriels was still made. Confused by it all you left the room, opting to wait in front of the fire until he came home. You picked at the edge of the chair, second-guessing yourself if this was the right decision. The doubtful thoughts filling your head, what if he didn’t forgive you? What if he finally decided to move on? But remembering how far you came, how much you needed to do this, you stuck through it and continued to wait.
It was nearly midnight when you heard the lock on the door turn. You stood quickly, watching the door as it slowly opened. Azriel stepped in, throwing his things to the side, he was dressed in his leathers, slowly removing the top layer, being in his presence felt different, but better. Gods you missed him, though you couldn't let yourself run back to him, not until you heard what he had to say.
He didn’t notice you at first, his gaze solely focused on the floor, his hair was a mess, and if you looked closely enough you could see the dark circles underneath his eyes. His shadows darted towards you, alerting him of your presence. His head whipped around to look at you, his movements frozen as his eyes widened though it was as if he didn’t believe you were here, standing in front of him. “Hi, Az.” You whispered.
Your voice seemed to shake whatever trance he was in. He moved to you faster than you could react, rushing over to you but quickly stopped in his tracks as if he wasn’t sure if you wanted him near you. But when you didn’t step back, instead moving closer he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a tight embrace. He buried his head in the crook of your neck, running his hands along your back. You didn’t pull away, not startled by his sudden movements, you prepared yourself for this, you had missed the warmth that he gave you. You slowly wrapped your arms around him, returning the embrace. “You came home.” He spoke, his voice cracking.
You pulled away and you could have sworn you heard a small sound of protest come from Azriel as you moved the two of you to the couch. “I thought it was time we talked about everything.”
As the two of you sat down, Azriel held on to your hand, you watched his chin tremble as he looked towards you. “I am so sorry Y/N.”
“I am too.” You responded.
Azriel shook his head. “You have nothing to apologize for, this is my fault alone.”
“But what I said-”
Azriel gripped your hand tighter, rubbing his thumb across your palm. “I deserved it, I hurt you Y/N and I am sorry. For what I put you through. There is no excuse for my behavior, I don’t deserve you and the love you give. I never meant to hurt you, I didn’t realize what I was doing until you left Rita’s that night. Seeing you cry, made my entire world crash down. I-” Azriel paused, looking down at his hands that were now interlaced within yours, trying to center himself. “I am not good with emotions, I know I love you, gods I love you so much. But I think pushing people aside and those emotions are how I think I am protecting them. But in reality, I hurt the person I care for the most.”
“What were you trying to protect me from?” You asked.
“Myself, my job. After everything that happened with Rhys and Feyre, I was scared. Each time I went on missions, I kept that love for you a secret because I was so afraid that something would happen to me, if I were ever to get caught. They would find out about you. They would use you to get to me. And I would never forgive myself if I put you in harm's way. But in the process when I pushed it so far down, I made it worse. ” He choked out, you could only stare at him, unsure of what your next words would be.
Azriel took a deep breath as he continued. “I got so engrossed in my work, that I neglected the one good thing in my life. When Feyre asked if I could keep an eye on Elain, it became another job. I said she needed me because I thought that is what I needed to do for Feyre and for her, to follow orders. She was never anything else to me. I am so sorry you thought that something was going on, that I made it seem like there was. You are all I have ever needed and I was an idiot to mess it up. These mistakes are mine to bear, not yours. Y/N you remind me where I belong, you have shown me love that I never thought I would be capable of knowing. I should have been a better mate, you deserve so much more than I am. I hate that I couldn’t see you struggling, I hate that I wasn’t there for you. I hate myself. For all of it.” Azriel let his head drop as his body shook with sobs, it hurt you to see him like this, but after hearing his words, seeing what this had done to him, what the two of you had been through, and although there was still more to work on between you two, you knew you wouldn’t want to live in a world without him by your side.
“Please don’t hate yourself.” You spoke quietly, watching him as he slowly pulled away from you.
Azriel didn’t look your way as he spoke, his voice hoarse. “It is what I deserve. I deserve worse than hate. What I did to you-” He paused wiping his face with the back of his hands. “I can never forgive myself, I swore I would protect you, I promised myself I would never make you cry, never cause you pain. But I couldn’t keep that promise.”
Bringing your hand along his jaw, you raised his head gently, making him look at you. Rubbing soothing circles across his cheeks. “I will not lie and say that I wasn’t hurt by this, gods Azriel it broke me. I never thought I would have gotten myself out of that hole. But this bond, this light between us, it is something to be treasured, to be loved. It gave me the strength to heal, to be better so we can be better. But for that to work, I need honesty, and clarity. I need you to be the male I know you are. The one who is fearless, who cares so much for his family, the one that I fell in love with all those years ago, the one that still has my heart.” You paused, holding back those tears that so desperately wanted to fall. “Don’t block me out. I am your mate, for the good and the bad. I understand the need to protect me, but I need to protect you too. We are equals after all, and we have to look out for each other.”
Azriel leaned into your touch as more tears fell down his cheeks. “How can you forgive me? I failed you.”
You moved one of his hands, placing it above your heart. You opened that bond that had been closed off for what felt like an eternity. Letting that warmth from you flow towards him, to show him that you had always held on to hope, even when it felt out of reach. “There is no way to learn things in life without failing, the thought of losing you scared me, so much that I became paranoid and assumed things that were not there, I should’ve talked to you instead of thinking everything would go back to normal on its own. A relationship takes work, and even when it gets hard, I don’t ever want to know who we are without each other. You are a piece of me that will be with me forever. I can’t help but love you.” You pulled on the bond once more, and finally, Azriel opened his side. The sudden rush of fear and guilt that came from him made your breath hitch, but you did not pull away, instead, you pushed more love toward him, in return he leaned his forehead against yours, sending a wave of love down the bond. The tears finally fell as you closed your eyes, cherishing Azriel and everything he was. Faults and all.
“I love you Y/N, nothing and no one could change the way I feel about you. You are light in this dark world of mine, a blooming rose in a garden of thorns. I promise to be the male you deserve. If you’ll have me.” He wiped away your tears, his hands remaining on your cheeks. You nodded, interlacing your fingers with his. Azriel let out a sigh of relief before softly placing his lips on yours. The bond bloomed with so much love between you and him. And as his lips lingered on yours, you finally felt that you were back where you belonged, the hope within you became a blazing fire and not the dim flame it once was. The connection you two shared was never something wild to tame, but something to run with, it was meant to make mistakes, and you two would learn to fix them together.
“I love you Azriel.” You whispered as you pulled away, your hands still tightly gripped onto his.
He smiled back at you, the smile that warmed your heart, the one that sent butterflies throughout your body. “I love you Y/N, with all that I am.”
And when he kissed you again, it was a promise. One that meant change, for a better future. For the both of you.
Taglist: @honestlywtfisgoingon @fanfictioniseverything @marina468 @positivewitch @maviee @blurredlamplight @bookslut420 @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @elle10 @dragonstoneprincess
421 notes · View notes
writingattemptsxx · 3 months
Text
Levi x Reader
Sleep.
You’re sick of Levi’s all-nighters and decide to get him to sleep, even if you have to trick him.
Not too late for Valentine’s Day, right? It's not themed, but some romantic fluff.
No one read it before posting, so hopefully there are no glaring issues.
No pronouns used for Mc other than “you”.
Tumblr media
Uhhhh… what was happening? Levi was just gaming a bit ago, and now you’re asleep on top of him. You were complaining about him needing sleep as he, admittedly, brushed you off. A bit after some silence, you offered to watch some anime with him, starting with one of his favorites. He was done with all his dailies and he’s beaten all the story out, so why not? Little did he know it was a trap he fell for so easily.
Both of you sat down on a nest of blankets and pillows you insisted on making. Unusual, but the floor isn’t the most comfortable. You sat next to him for a while, looking at him every few minutes. After about an episode you pushed him down, turning him to where the back of his head hit one of the pillows.
“Wh-wh-what?! M-Mc?!”
“You need sleep! And don't complain. I played you parallel to the screen, you can just turn your head. Just- just lay down. Please.”
You looked desperate. Desperate for him to take care of himself. His face felt hot. Why is that a normal reaction around you?
He turned his head away, facing the screen. “Fine. I won't sleep though.” He didn't even sound that confident, but any confidence that was there shattered as you snuggled closer. He hopes that you don't hear how fast his heart is, even though your head is resting on his chest.
While watching, he played with your hair to keep his hands busy. He kept watching until the end of the final episode. Why does it have to be so short? His eyes drifted to you for a second, only to jump back. You were asleep. You fell asleep. His face felt more than warm this time. It felt absolutely burning. What does he do now?
He searched around for the remote. Of course, it was outside of his arm’s reach. He tried to slide closer, but that jostled you. He froze as you made a small and annoyed noise and readjusted on top of him. He was still frozen for a while after, just to make sure you weren't awake. While he did find it adorable, he didn't want to risk waking you.
He tried to slide again, slower this time. Luckily he grabbed it, without moving you this time, and he slid back into his original space. He tried to change the show to something new, but he kept looking back at you. He put the remote down at his side. He cupped your cheek and rubbed it with his thumb. You gave the tiniest smile in your sleep. Why are you so cute?
He looked back at the screen. There was this anime he'd been wanting to watch, and now was the perfect time, right? To his shock, he put on an anime he's watched thousands of times, put down the remote, and turned back to you. He lied down and continued to play with your hair until his eyes closed and he drifted off.
There was this annoying rustling sound waking Levi up. What time is it anyway? He tried to ignore it, but it was too annoying. He opened his eyes, scanning the room. When he turned his head he found the source. Mammon, his brother, and the greediest demon alive. He was rummaging through Levi’s figures and DVDs.
The lowest and angriest growl he has made in recent memory accompanied his voice. “Mammon.” He froze at Levi’s voice, not even looking back at his brother. “Make a good choice here. Leave everything where it is, and leave. You dare take one thing and I will kill you.”
Mammon slowly side-shuffled out, keeping his back to Levi, and keeping his hands up. Once he opened the door, he bolted away. Levi huffed, turned his head back around, closed his eyes, and drifted back off.
Tumblr media
65 notes · View notes
unmotivatedwrit3r · 11 months
Text
One in Eleven Million
damian wayne x reader x jon kent  - ch.1
(A/N): The plot of this is mostly based off of a trip I took a little over a year ago, though there are liberties taken further on. And my memory is kinda sucky so take any airport lingo with a grain of salt. Also, thanks to @glorified-red for helping me outline this while I was heading to the same place this year and also for being my beta reader. 
This is fully written and has been for two months so hopefully I'll post a chapter a week or so? I am also posting this from hawaii so here's hoping a) I get new fic material and b) i've converted the time zone correctly and this posts late EST. 
If you saw this posted yesterday, no you didn’t. Posting across time zones is hard
wc: ~2300
warnings: plane travel; anxiety
~
Your phone buzzed in your pocket as you stepped off the tram. Above your head, the sign read Terminal B in large letters. The people ahead as you stepped onto the escalator were a couple with matching, brightly colored, floral-patterned carry-ons. 
The notification was a text from the airline. You skimmed it as you walked towards your gate, weaving in and out of internal airport traffic. We're ready to board your flight to Gotham (GHM) at Gate B6 and look forward to seeing you soon! The text was right below the one telling you about yet another delay. A quick check of the time declared that making any detours would cut your arrival at the gate a little close. 
“Worth the risk,” you decided for yourself. “Let's go.” 
The escalator opened into the middle of your terminal, a dozen gates from your destination. Even though the airport you were in was spread out massively, you weren’t too worried. Your boarding group wouldn’t even get on the plane for probably another ten minutes, so you ducked into the nearest restroom before crossing to your gate. 
The time in red on your boarding pass caught your eye. 70 minutes late, it read. Any other day, a delay would have been an inconvenience. This time, the buffer actually ended up being beneficial. You needed it when trying to catch a connecting flight—the second of two on your way home—after one already delayed. Your eye caught on a pretzel stand further down the terminal. You could almost taste the pretzels; it had been a while since breakfast. The usual delicious smells were covered by the perpetual airport scent of stale air and commercial cleaner. If you wanted to get close, you’d have to cross the foot traffic. The voice over the loudspeaker curtailed that hope quickly by announcing your boarding group. You sighed. Next time. 
The boarding line was long and you silently thanked yourself for checking a larger suitcase as your primary luggage. Your only current accompaniment was your airline declared “personal item.” There was no way there would be spots for any hypothetical carry-on by the time you got on board. As if to agree with you, the airline employees over the speakers nudged passengers once again to check their carry-ons. 
Like always, it took longer than it rationally should have for people to display their boarding passes and continue into the enclosed boarding bridge. Your chest squeezed as your seat flashed on the screen. The only seat available and in your budget had been a “B”: a middle seat in the back of the plane. Middle seats were the worst, especially when traveling alone. Too often you’d found yourself next to men (and even women, sometimes) that made you extremely uncomfortable.
You scanned the numbers above the seats as the line in front of you blundered along. Someone’s carry-on bag almost smacked you in the face before the line cleared enough for you to be able to see your row. Your heart sank just a little bit when you spotted the two heads in the A and C seats. No hope for an empty seat on this flight, then. 
When you stepped closer, you could see two men—young adults and not older men, you realized, thank goodness—conversing with each other, both tilted into the middle seat. You hoped, privately, that they didn’t know each other well, if only so they wouldn’t be talking right through you the entire flight. 
“Excuse me,” you said, stopping in front of the row, “I have the middle seat.” 
The boys sat back. The one in the window seat had olive skin and dark wavy hair cropped close on the side, dripping down across his forehead and over his eyes. The other, with lighter skin and fluffy dark hair, stood to let you in. You had to take half a step back to let him out. He was tall. And pretty. Nope, Shut Up, brain. You pushed the thought into the back of your mind; he could be the most homophobic person you’ve ever met, how would you know? 
“Sorry about that, go ahead.” 
“Thanks.” You smiled at the boy before sliding clumsily into the row and landing heavily in the middle seat. You shoved your bag under the seat in front of you and sat up stiffly, shoulders pulled into yourself. The seatbelt dug uncomfortably into your thigh. Silently , you shifted, sliding on the smooth airplane seat, to free it. A few minutes passed in awkward silence as the rest of the passengers boarded. Your headphones were down in the bag you’d just squished under the seat. Was it really worth it to grab them now? Yes, you decided, leaning down to maneuver them out of your bag. The fluffy haired boy spoke across the seats. 
“Damian, I can’t get the app downloaded.” 
You sat back up slowly, chest constricting again. They did know each other. 
The boy in the window seat—Damian apparently—looked up from where his head had been bowed over a book. You couldn’t really make out the words scribbled in the margins, but both the text and the handwritten notes looked like something in the Arabic language family. He put his arm out and the other boy reached across you to place his phone into the outstretched hand. 
“You need to turn on your cellular data for the app store. There’s no internet here.” His voice was low in pitch and quiet. The kind people listened to. Window Seat Boy (it felt weird calling him Damian even if you knew his name) easily unlocked the phone—a red-cased, beat up iPhone—and started rifling through settings. 
The other boy turned his attention to you and you gave an awkward smile. 
“I kinda just realized that it’s probably really annoying to be in the middle of us so did you want to switch with me? Like so every time we talk to each other you’re not in the middle?” 
Your eyebrows raised in surprise. The offer was unexpected, but he looked genuine. You didn’t want to wait for him to potentially change his mind. 
“Yeah, um, that would be good—if you’re okay with that?” 
“Oh yeah I don’t care. I don’t fly like this often enough to have a seat preference. But sitting in the middle of two strangers would probably not be it.” 
Your response huff of involuntary laughter surprised you. He seemed sweet. Your guard dropped a little bit as he stood up in the now empty aisle to let you out. You pulled your bag out from under the seat in front of you and dropped both it and your jacket on the now vacated seat before sliding out and standing up yourself. 
“After you.” You gestured to the empty seat. He shot you a grin before maneuvering more awkwardly than you thought possible into the middle seat. 
“These are so cramped. How do people fly like this?” he muttered, then accepted his phone back from Window Seat Boy. You felt a smile tug at your lips, shoving your backpack under the seat as you sat back down.
“It’s the lack of legroom that gets me. There’s barely enough space for my bag, much less my feet.” 
Now, Middle Seat Boy turned to look at you. His eyes—shining from behind black rectangular frames—were a startling crystal blue. A smile spread across his face and you felt your chest squeeze for a different reason this time. You didn’t even have it in you to reprimand your brain; it really was a pretty smile. 
“Yeah I don’t get it. How is this supposed to be comfortable?” 
“It’s not supposed to be comfortable,” you said, “it’s supposed to make the airlines money.” 
There was a soft huff from Window Seat Boy and Middle Seat Boy’s grin widened. He extended his hand, elbow pressed awkwardly against his torso, before seemingly deciding against it and putting it back down. 
“I’m Jon. And this is Damian.” He gestured to the boy next to him, whose face was once again buried in his book. Damian—now using his name felt less like an intrusion and more like decent politeness—gave a brief nod as he was introduced. 
You stuck your hand out and Jon let out a small laugh as he took it. 
You appreciated that he repeated your name back to you when you gave it to him. Most people just barreled on with their misunderstood pronunciations. 
“Are you heading home?” Jon looked actually interested in your answer. 
You debated for a moment before deciding to be honest. There were over a million people living in Gotham.  
“Yeah, heading back. This is my connecting flight to get home. How about you guys?” 
Jon glanced back at Damian before answering. Damian stayed invested in his book. “He’s from Gotham and I’m going back with him so technically, yeah.” 
“Work trip? Or a personal one?” 
Jon opened his mouth then closed it without saying anything. “Kinda work yeah. We missed our,” he paused as if searching for a word, “original flight so now we’re here.” 
You nodded your head understandingly. 
“Oh that sucks. Hope you weren’t delayed too long.” 
Jon hesitated, wincing as he stretched out his left arm. 
“We weren’t, technically. Was hoping not to have to fly like this, though.” 
You shrugged. 
“This is my usual airline so I don’t have much to say about that.” 
Jon found that funnier than you expected, but you felt a smile crawl across your face as he laughed. The crackle of the intercom interrupted whatever he was about to say. 
“Ladies and gentlemen, this is your pilot speaking. Thank you all for your patience this afternoon. As you know, weather delays kept the plane from arriving here on time and we are happy to finally have you on board. My apologies for the delay in takeoff. There’s been a slight mechanical issue, but we should get it all straightened out in the next twenty minutes so just sit tight. Thank you for your cooperation” 
You sighed heavily, eyes rolling.
“Of course there is.” 
Jon’s worried expression snapped to you. 
“What?” 
Your eyebrows scrunched down in confusion. 
“'What' what?” 
“You said 'of course there is'. Of course there’s what?”
You felt your shoulders relax. 
“Oh, another delay. Almost every plane I take on my own has some sort of delay. Like my last flight was an hour and fifteen minutes behind. And now this one. I just want to go home, you know? I’m exhausted.” 
Jon slumped in his chair. 
“Yeah, me too.” 
He looked exhausted, you realized, eyes decorated with underbags and body slouched into his seat. He was also wearing two sweaters, even though the plane was more warm than chilly. 
“Are you okay?” 
Jon shrugged, smiling. 
“I haven’t uh—I haven’t gotten enough sun recently but yeah.” 
You let out a small huh of understanding and looked out the window open across the aisle from you. It was dark out despite the fact that the sun hadn’t quite set. He wasn’t native to Gotham, you remembered. Cloudy days are the default there, but you knew a couple people who could never make it in Gotham just for that reason. 
It felt weird to put in your headphones and tune out the boy next to you now. Usually, you wouldn’t have thought twice, but you liked him and didn’t want to block him out. Instead, you tucked the headphones back in and pulled a craft project out of your bag, continuing the row of stitches you were on when you put it down at your first gate early in the morning. 
After a moment, you looked up to see Jon watching you. 
“Whatcha making?” He asked, eyes tracing the pattern of your project. You paused, hands stilling mid-stitch.
“Nothing specific really. Just something to pass the time. It’s a pattern I found online a little while back. I kinda enjoy the time on planes and the like that force me to not watch something. Even though technically there’s in-flight entertainment, there’s not too much I enjoy so I’d rather read or something, you know?” You completed the stitch, eyes flicking back to Jon as you tugged it tight. Jon’s head tilted to the side. You had to stop yourself from smiling at the movement. It was cute, a little bit like a puppy. 
“In-flight entertainment?” 
“Like movies and TV shows, whatever the airline puts on it. You didn’t know that?” Jon shook his head. “How often do you fly?” Jon’s eyes widened. For a moment you thought you’d offended him. “I’m not judging you or anything I just—”
“No! No, you didn’t. I don’t…take airplanes much.” 
“Ok well there’s a whole selection of movies on the app, if you have that. This plane has some TV channels,” you said, gesturing to his TV. It was streaming a basketball game, same as most of the others around you. You’d turned yours off before continuing on your project. A quick glance at Damian’s revealed that his was also turned off. “But there’s a better selection of stuff on the app and then you can connect your bluetooth or whatever headphones to your phone and watch with those.” You pulled your phone from your pocket, opening the app and navigating to the entertainment section. 
“See?” You hit the button for the ‘view all’ list and turned the phone to Jon. “You can’t do anything with it unless you’re on the plane but since we are, here it is.” 
Jon pulled out his phone and navigated to the same page you were on, then started scrolling down. 
“This one’s okay but I feel like I’ve seen it a thousand times.” He tilted the phone towards you, display open to a movie from a few months ago. 
“Oh, I meant to see that movie but never got to. Do you recommend it?” 
Jon returned to the main page and shrugged. 
“I think you can do better.” 
You smiled, stuffing your project back into your bag in favor of scrolling through the movie list yourself. 
“Let’s see what they’ve got.”
342 notes · View notes
lauraroselam · 10 months
Text
Tumblr media
So I wrote this weird book about queer dragons. It came out the same day as the other dragon book everyone talks about. It was a Sunday Times bestseller in the UK, though, which was incredible!
However, I'm not sure how to continue to promote this book--people either seem to really like it, or not quite get it. Or it just wasn't what they expected. Which is fine, no book can please everyone, and I knew I'd made some unusual craft choices that was going to make it more marmite. (Or, as my brain tells me at midnight, I'm just a bad writer). However, there's that librarian saying "every book its reader" and the people who love this book REALLY love it, and that makes me so happy. So I decided to write this post and explain its weirdness and lay out what you can expect if you do pick it up. Maybe you're my kind of odd, too. :-)
Short pitch: 800 years ago, dragons and humans were bonded, then humans were dicks, stole the dragons' magic, and banished them to a dying world. But humans have short memories, forgot, and now worship dragons as gods. The dragon "gods" remember, and they do not forgive.
Thief Arcady steals their grandsire's stone seal (which helps them funnel magic) from their tomb. Their grandsire supposedly released a magical plague that killed a proportion of society, and Arcady is locked out of society as a result. They perform a spell to rewrite the seal to have a new identity as they want to go to university at the Citadel and also clear their family's name. Problem? The spell also accidentally calls through Everen, the last male dragon, trapped in human form. Everen has been foretold to save his kind, and now he has a chance: he just has to convince one little human to trust him mind, body, and soul, and then kill them. Then he'll be able to steal the human's magic back, rip a hole in the Veil, and the dragons can return. Good news for dragons, less good news for humans. As you might expect: this does not go to plan. Because emotions.
Grab it now. (Note: there's still a contractual delay so it's not available in US audiobook yet, annoyingly. Hopefully soon). (If you are like "weird queer dragons?! Sign me up" but aren't interested in hearing why the author has made certain decisions and want to go into the text cold, stop here! Death of the author/birth of the reader, etc. Otherwise, carry on.)
You should pick up Dragonfall if:
You like experimental narrative positions! It's all collected by an unnamed archivist who has access to both first person narratives (Arcady, the genderfluid human thief, Everen the hot dragon) and can scry into the past and draw out third person narratives (Sorin, hot priest assassin. Cassia, Everen's sister, who is also hot. Spoiler: everyone in this book is hot). Then to make it even weirder, Everen's bits are technically in first person direct address, so he's writing it all to Arcady (the first chapter ends with: "For that human was, of course, you. And this is our story, Arcady.") I ended up writing it this way for a few reasons, even though it probably would have been simpler to just stick to straight up third throughout, like most epic fantasy does. The big one is that Arcady is genderfluid and uses any pronouns (I tend to default to they when I talk about them outside of the text), and constantly gendering them in the text felt wrong whether I used he, she, or they. This way bypasses that a lot in the first volume, so it's up to the reader to make up their own mind. I also just really love first person direct address as a narrative position. It can be a little confronting, and it makes Everen the dragon sound a bit more predatory at the start. But it's also quite intimate. Is he writing his sections as an apology, or a love letter? Both? You find out at the end. So if your green flag books are: The Fifth Season, The Raven Tower, or Harrow the Ninth, this might also be your jam.
You love classic 90s fantasy. This is in many ways an homage to all the stuff I read growing up: Robin Hobb and the Realm of the Elderlings (the book is dedicated to Hobb in particular), the Dragonriders of Pern, Tad Williams, Lynn Flewelling, Robert Jordan, Mercedes Lackey, Tamora Pierce, etc. But I wanted to give it a more modern twist. I'm NB and growing up I didn't see a lot of queerness in fantasy, and I clung to the examples I did find (Vanyel, the Fool). Also, not 90s fantasy, but I also freaking loved Seraphina by Rachel Hartman and Priory of the Orange Tree, so those were influences too.
You're not put off by Worldbuilding(TM) and a slower pace. Probably because I grew up on the likes of Tad Williams, I honestly love slow-paced fantasy. I love to luxuriate in a world and take my time getting to know a made up world. In Assassin's Quest it takes over 100 pages for Fitz to leave the forest. Love it. I have a more lyrical writing style, I guess, and I'm pretty descriptive. My stuff always tends to start off slower, set the stage, and then ramps up the pace as we get further along. So yes, my book starts out with some infodumping, depending on your tolerance level of that sort of thing. I worked with a linguist and they made a conlang for the dragon language (hi @seumasofur). There's a map by Deven Rue (cartographer for Critical Role). I got nerdy.
You love queernorm fantasy! This is set in a world where it's considered rude to assume a stranger's gender and so you tend to default to they/them. If you consider someone much higher in status than you, you'd capitalise it to the honorific, such as They/Them. Once you get to know someone, you tend to flash your pronouns to them with a hand signal, since a sign language called Trade is also a lingua franca in the world. 99.95% of all the dragons are also lesbians, BTW. Everen is the last male dragon.
You like frankly silly levels of slow burn. Everen and Arcady can't physically touch without it causing Everen pain while they're half-bonded. They may or may not find creative loopholes. But it's not mega mega spicy, if you're expecting that. I expect the spice levels will gradually go up as the series progresses.
Alright, I think that's more than enough to give you a sense of what you'd find in Dragonfall. If you're open to sharing this post so it reaches more people outside of my little corner of the internet, I'd really appreciate it. Whenever I do any bit of self-promo, I'm always so anxious and worry it'll get like, 2 eyeballs on it anyway or that I'm just annoying people by mentioning that my art even exists. And if you end up liking it, please tell a friend.
I'm loving the recent dragon renaissance! Long live dragons.
231 notes · View notes
aheathen-conceivably · 9 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
The preparations for the move were almost complete. Crates had been packed and suitcases filled until they were almost too full to shut. Josephine and Antoine had signed a deal with the New Orleans city government, selling their prized jazz club for only a fraction of what it had been worth a decade before.
The city planned to raze the whole area in what they were calling a “rejuvenation effort”. Antoine couldn’t bear to think of it, or he would lose his nerve for good. And he was excited, childishly, hopefully excited.
There was promise in the West, not only for himself but for his entire family, but if he thought of his mother or their beloved club he would falter. So he packed boxes and covered furniture looking only at Zelda, thinking only of her and Violette and not of the past.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Despite all of their preparations, only one thing was not prepared for the cross country journey: Violette. Ever since her parents had told her of the move she had become sullen and unresponsive, refusing to speak to anyone or pack any of her belongings.
Both Zelda and Antoine had tried speaking to her in their own ways, but her answer remained the same: I’m not leaving. Antoine promised more gifts, new dresses, and anything else he could think of, but the more he spoke the more sullen she became. What she refused to say was that the last time she had left home he wasn’t there, and that her young mind was convinced if she were to do so again it would be without him.
So only days before their train was scheduled to depart, they called Josephine to the house.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
When Josephine entered the room Violette stared straight into her eyes angrily, only to turn away the moment that she sat on the bed. Jo looked around the unpacked room while the rest of the house was so empty. For a moment she was tempted to adopt the child’s stubborn posture and lock the door.
For she was no less shocked now than when her brother had originally approached her with his plan to contact Gio and move together to New Mexico. She had expected an argument, or at least some resistance to her idea of selling the club; she had never expected Antoine to be the one to suggest leaving first.
In truth, her own plans hadn’t spanned far beyond selling the club. While she had entertained some vague ideas of moving to Chicago or even California, she had never considered going back to Gio, to some farm where she would have to rely on him and only him for almost every aspect of her life. As much as she wanted to see him again, she didn’t know if she could bear the feeling.
But the hope in Antoine’s voice had all but convinced her; then, her remaining reservations had melted away once she saw the sale price of their property, barely enough to get them out of New Orleans together. But here, in her childhood bedroom, her memories seemed to matter more than any promise, her roots more than any future, and her nostalgia more than any security.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Then she caught sight of the music box on Violette’s dresser, the same one that her mother had once given to her and she had passed to Violette. She reached over and wound up the small brass handle so that the ballerina began to twirl and a lilted melody played hauntingly from the box.
“Lottie, do you know where your grand-mère bought this music box?”
The child still didn’t turn, but Jo noticed that her rigid posture had softened, so she continued, “When your grand-mère was only a teenager she ran away from home, all the way to New York to be a dancer. Her whole life everyone had told her that she was talented and beautiful enough to make it big, and perhaps she was. Only people here judged her for the way she looked, you see? So she went all the way to New York City to follow her dreams. Sometimes, my little love, we must go elsewhere to be who we want to become. And your Momma and Poppa know that. They know that you’ll be much happier somewhere you are allowed to be whoever you want to be.”
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Violette’s demeanor changed notably, and she spoke to her aunt in a small voice, “You promise that you’re coming with me? That Poppa is coming and we’ll all be together?”
“Lottie, of course, my love. Your Momma, Poppa, and I will all be there with you.”
Finally Violette turned, her large eyes seemingly free of the rage they had held when Josephine first entered the room, “And if I go, can I be like her? Like the ballerina in the box?”
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
As she stared down at Violette, Josephine saw through time, to herself lying on her bed in that same room, watching the ballerina spin in the music box. It was her first night working at the brothel and she just kept watching her spin, and spin, and spin, ignoring her mother calling her name from the doorway.
Delphine sat on the bed next to her daughter, a blend of tender impatience in her face as she tried to soothe her fears, “Josephine, child, I know that you are nervous, but I can protect you here. This is our lot in this life, the fate that expectations and prejudice have placed upon us. Only we wield the power here, do you understand? We get to make the rules and reap the benefits, even if we must play along with things we do not desire. I promise that I will look after you no matter what, okay? I love you, my darling, it will all be alright.”
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Josephine looked back at her niece, replacing the rage filling her with hope for the small child sitting in front of her. She brought her hand to her cheek and smiled, “Oh Lottie, I’ll make sure you can be whatever it is that you want, no matter what anyone else may tell you. I promise you that, my darling.”
128 notes · View notes