#i figure they meant Dead Master but i wanted to make sure

[little-fairy-forest]

Stitches of love

-> bakugo x fem! Reader

-> domestic, fluff, romance, she / her

-> reader finds herself going crazy over what to get her mitsuki for motherday, little does she know she had a helping hand all along.

"Katsuki please just give me some ideas what to get her" y/n pleaded as she rests her head in her hands. The list infront of her started back as she scratches out all her ideas so far on what to get her mother in law for her birthday. Jewellery? No she had so much, a holiday? Seems like a large present for your first year as her official daughter in law, home made jam?–

"She'd love anythin' if you gave it to 'er" Katsuki grumbles as he sips his coffee staring at y/n. They both knew he was right, y/n could give mitsuki a lump of dirt and She'd be so greatful you'd swear it was a lump of gold. But if katsuki gave it to her? He'd never hear the end of how thoughtless it was...

"What are you getting her? Surely you've ran out of ideas aswell?" Y/n rubs her face in defeat as she realises she only has 3 days to find a present. The clock is ticking, especially since you have to buy it, wrap it, and pray its good enough.

"Got her and the old man tickets to that candle lit concert in Tokyo, gotta meal for them aswell before the show" katsuki says as it's the most obvious thing ever... because everyone can afford to get expensive tickets to a private showing of the Tokyo orchestra at candlelight. Y/n huffs as she moves herself away from the table, frustrated as her plans were coming to a dead-end. Katsuki shrugs as suggests they can share the present as that wouldn't be a problem, but for y/n , she wanted her own present for her own mother in law.

"Back to the drawing board"

2 days to go

The dim lights of the lamp cascade over y/n as she tries to pull out another knott that's found its way into the ball of yarn.

"Stupid thing, why are the strings so thin–"

"Why are you still awake?" Katsuki emerges from the kitchen, peeping his head into the living room to find his wife tangled in balls of yarn, frustrated at the pattern in front of her. Who know making a blanket was so difficult?

"I can't figure the pattern out, why is knitting so hard katsu! Why do people do this to relax"

"Cuz old hags have all the time in the world to do that stuff, now get your ass to bed"

The small half-arsed square that was meant to be a blanket falls flat into y/ns lap as she realises this was another failed attempt at a present for mitsuki. The blanket would've had to of been perfect, can't give a seamstress a rag and pass it off as a blanket made out of love. What symbol would that give?

"Stupid yarn"

1 day to go

The perfect way to a person's heart is through their stomach, is that how the saying goes? Doesn't matter! Either way you found yourself 3 cakes deep into perfecting this stupid old recipe. katuki claims " the old hags loves "... but why is it so hard to master the recipe?

Many hours into baking whatever is in the oven, because there's no way you can even call the lumpy mess a 'cake'. Katsuki takes over as he cannot let anything to be made in his kitchen be considered inedible. You watched as katsuki whipped around the kitchen, making dinner and cleaning up the mess you made. What are you going to do now? The deadline is near, and you've nothing to bring to the dinner tomorrow for mitsuki?

Great way to impress your mother in law

"Listen, she won't care if you've nothin in your hands sweets, trust" Katsuki says to distract you from your storming thoughts.

"I just don't know what to do babe, I've tried so many ideas. I don't have to give up but what choice do I have–"

"Quit your ramblin and go wash up before dinner," katsuki cuts your rambles with instructions. He knows it's best to distract you if you're having working thoughts.

You make your way to the bathroom to wash up before dinner. Your head is still flooded with last minute ideas of presents to give mistuki.

"Where's all the soap gone? Why doesn't katsuki refill the container when it's empty? Typical" you say, reaching into the press to grab and refill the soap dispenser. You make a quick note of things you need to get in the shops before you go to dinner tomorrow as you're almost out of some essentials.

As you rummage through the bathroom cabinet, your fingers brush against a small, inconspicuous box tucked behind some toiletries. Curiosity piqued, you retrieved it, your heart quickening as you read the label. With a mixture of trepidation and hope, you take a gamble with this last chance of a home made present.

Birthday dinner

Mistuki has been filling yous in on her latest fashion looks she has been in the process of designing since last spring. Masaru has just set down the tea post dinner as you've all settled into the sitting room to unwind after that very tasty dinner katsuki scrubbed up. Who knew your man was so kind?

"Here's your present ma..." katsuki sheeply hands over his gift knowing his mother will make a deal out of the concert he has gotten her tickets for. You watch as mistuki stumbles over with glee as she hugs? Katsuki and thanks him. You haven't seem them hug since you had gotten married!

Masaru thanks katsuki for getting him a ticket also, placing the present aside waiting for the two blonds to settle down.

" it's something small, hope we can all share this special present" you hint towards the box you hand over to mitsuki. Katsuki looks at you knowingly you done fucked up the blanket and the cake, so what did you get her?

Mistuki opens the box to find a tiny baby blanket you had hand knitted from the rags you started with, paired with a tiny test signaling your little life growing within.

Mistuki stumbles over the test, clarifying with you that what she is reading really is coming true!

"YOUR PREGNANT?!"  She gleams as she jumps from her seat shuffling over to hug you. Katsuki looks at you with hope in his eyes, why hadn't you told him?!

"Yes , I hope this trumps katsuki present mistuki" you hug Mistuki back as masaru looks into the box reading the little note beside the blanket

"Cant wait to snuggle you in this blanket made out of love, sweat and tears,

Love, baby bakugo due 2X25"

Yep. You've finally outdone your husband in gift giving.

Now how will you out do Masarus birthday..

What did I just write...

Ew

#bnha #little fairy forest #bnha imagines #mha headcanons #mha fluff #mha x y/n #bnha headcanons #bakugou katsuki #bakugou fluff #little fairy recs #katsukibakugou #katsuki bakugou #katsuki #katsuki bakugo #bakugou #mha bakugo x reader #bnha bakugo x reader #bnha katsuki x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugo x you #dad bakugo #domestic bakugou

[a-world-with0ut-dr34ms]

Kinktober Prompt ~ Outdoor Sex

Ghost x City Girl Reader

During a friendly game of Capture-the-Flag, you and Ghost take things to extreme, after a bet turns into something not so suitable for work...

Future NSFW 18+, Part One, Eventual Smut, Shameless Smut, Porn w/ little Porn, Hatemance, Enemies to Lovers, Mean Girl/Bratty Reader, Sarcastic Ghost, Teasing, Flirting, slight Slow Burn, Outdoor Sex, Banter, Toxic Relationships

Author's Note: This was random. Felt like writing some dirty smut for Ghost and I liked Spice as a character, so here's a spin-off! Split into two parts so I can make the next chapter juicy. Please enjoy the build-up for now ( ๑‾̀◡‾́)σ"

Also! If you want to read it in conjecture to the other parts, this is after Part Two but before Part Three :3

NGMLTS Masterlist

Masterlist

It was meant to be a team building exercise; a friendly game of competition between you and your comrades. Capture the flag. Only the rules were a bit altered this time around.

The game went as plainly explained by your captain: one team has to collect the flags and bring them back to their designated checkpoint, while the other team has to stop them. Three rounds will be given, with teams swapping positions each time. Winning team takes all, including the bragging rights.

And as if a competitive sport between the Task Force's deadliest members wasn't already enough, Price figured he'd spice things up by having the games happen at the dead of night as well. Many of your missions as of recent have been late night ops, so he felt that the extra training was needed.

This means night vision goggles, zero comms, stealth utilization, and strategy. When the exercise started and you were left out in the woods to begin, it was up to you and yours to be alert enough to get the job done. And if your team does win, you'll get first pick on the next mission.

You couldn't speak for everyone, though your sure the sentiment is shared; you've always loved a little competitiion. You just hid that side of you well, only letting it show when it was needed. But beating your peers at their own game was a rush like no other, and that feeling never left you even as you grew older. In fact it increased tenfold. It was a rush better than sex half the time.

Competition keeps a goal in mind to focus on, and damn did it feel good to win. And right now, there wasn't anyone you wanted to beat more than the stealth master himself, Simon Riley.

If one thing had been known about the man, it's that his expertise in stealth and sabotage weren't in need of questioning; he's practically a living legend after Roba. Some missions he's even been able to pull off alone, given his size and brutish combat tactics.

He's quite literally a ghost. That's just simple fact. A fact that might intimidate some, but only made you want to call him out on his bullshit. You honestly didn't believe all the hype, even after having gone on a few missions with him already. If anything, from what you've seen, the guy's just got funny luck.

If you want something done quietly, you send Simon Riley. If he needed to enter a room without you knowing, then you wouldn't hear him until you've felt the knife in your back. If he had to stay out of sight, then you won't see him in the shadows until he chooses to make himself known.

You aimed to prove that point tonight, knowing it would make the perfect thing to hold over him any time he wants to give you shit. How you've dethroned him of his ghostly status and made a mortal man out of him, now not only in the bedroom but in the field as well. It made you giddy just thinking about it.

Tonight you'd been given the chance to put your money where your mouth is. By a random luck of the draw, you've been placed on the offensive team with Gaz, making you the hunter, and Ghost your prey. A unique position to be in, and one you hadn't planned on squandering.

"I bet you $20 you won't get a single flag," you taunted.

Your comment had been enough to make the man snort. No doubt he'd been a man up for a bit of competition himself. And what better reward was there than having the privilege to say he humbled you as well? Now that's a rare occasion.

Ghost finished retying the laces to his boots before standing back up into his full length, looming over you like a big, playful shadow.

The hallway grows dark and empty around you, a familiar setting as of late. Since that night at the club, situations like this seemed to spring up more and more often. Ones which involved the man standing just close enough for you to smell the scent of him, and for him to catch that lustful glint you hid so well behind your eyes. Had you not had places to be, he'd fuck you right here and now, you're sure.

"Why don't we sweeten the pot some," he adds. "You still throw in that twenty, but the loser owes the winner a favor they can't say no to."

"Ooo, I like the sound of that!" You smile, already picturing all the most humiliating things you were going to make him do. You could make him fuck you in that one position dangling over your bedpost that you liked (and he kept complaining about "having to do"). Or you could even make him do all your work for the day as well. Oh the possibilities were endless; it had you practically jumping for joy.

Ghost chuckles at your preemptive celebratory dance, letting you go on for an unnecessary amount of time with your gloating and teasing. It'll only make his victory all the more sweeter.

"Figured you might like tha'," he says. You can practically feel the man smirking underneath his balaclava. He extends a hand out to you, giving you a chance to shake it. "Is that a deal then, Spice?"

You take his hand and shake on it.

"You're on, Manchester."

As you shake hands, Ghost keeps his grip over you for a moment, holding you in place a little longer so you could hear him when he taunted you. "We'll see how good you are when we get out there, won't we?"

"I'll try and go easy on you," you purr.

"I wouldn't want that. Too boring," Ghost teases. "It's much better when I have to work for it."

"Spoken like a true dog."

You both would have continued going back and forth, had Price not entered the hall to retrieve you both.

"OK, wrap it up lovebirds," he teases, earning a respective groan from you both. "We're heading out to the course now, so no more dilly-dallying."

"Roger that, sir," Ghost says. He watches for Price, waiting for him to leave before he's left you with a final parting phrase himself.

"May the best soldier win."

(ﾉ･_-)☆ Part Two Coming Soon...

Author's Note: I've included the previous taglist just in case you guys also wanted to read this spin-off (I know it's been over a month (^^'). I can remove you from the second part if you're not interested though!

Part Two will be longer and will involve the actually competition before things get spicy. I haven't decided who's gonna win the game yet either so it'll be a surprise for all of us. But I'm planning on the smut to be worth the two part split. Stay Tuned ~

Taglist: @babygirl-riley, @homicidal-slvt, @deadbranch, @argella1300, @poohkie90 , @glitterypirateduck , @sarraa-26 , @quincessimus , @crazymela, @13thprogenitor , @joce2fine, @sapszilla , @dmitriene, @justherebecauseafarisucks, @zevrajalexxandra, @corvusmorte

#simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley smut #call of duty #modern warfare ii #call of duty modern warfare ii #mwii #mw2022 #simon ghost riley #call of duty modern warfare 2 #ghost simon riley #ghost mw2 #ghost cod #simon riley #Spotify

[youryurigoddess]

The stuff dreams are made of, or the interesting case of Anthony J. Crowley

We’ve talked a bit about Crowley’s trauma and his way of reclaiming the narrative in the past, but it’s time for some deep dive into the story he’s trying to tell. A story that meanders through the fabric of time and space, slightly changing with the human fashion trends, but slowly and surely bringing the demon closer to a certain angel like the red thread of fate.

1793

Some stories start in a garden, some even Before the Beginning, but this one starts with an Arrangement. Or, to be precise, a little bit after that.

See, most of the iterations of Crowley we saw throughout the history until then didn’t delve too deep into human cultural tropes. If anything, they were the inspirations behind more or less prominent biblical figures, maybe some nameless villains matching his demonic provenance and role assigned to him by his employers.

But in the hustle and bustle of the revolutionary Paris, Crowley emerges as a prototype of the Scarlet Pimpernel — a chivalrous Englishman who rescues aristocrats before they are sent to the guillotine. Stan Lee famously called him “the first character who could be called a superhero”.

Sir Percy Blakeney, the main character of the novel and the West End play under the same title, leads a double life. Appearing as nothing more than a wealthy fop, in reality he’s a formidable swordsman, a quick-thinking master of disguise and an escape artist. Even his own wife, Marguerite, has no idea.

Unfortunately Marguerite is being blackmailed with her brother’s life to find and expose the wanted Pimpernel. She regrets betraying her husband the moment she's forced to do it and spends the rest of the plot working to save him. She does, they make up, and return together to England.

In Aziraphale and Crowley’s case there was just a short stop for crêpes. But what seems to be an inspiration of a specific scene might as well come up later in the wider perspective of the show, so keep in mind those fragments of the musical’s libretto:

We all are caught in the middle

of one long treacherous riddle.

Can I trust you?

Should you trust me too?...

We shamble on through this hell

taking on more secrets to sell

'til there comes a day

when we sell our souls away.

We seek him here, we seek him there,

Those Frenchies seek him everywhere!

Is he in heaven? Is he in hell?

Where is that damn elusive Pimpernel!

1941

The London Blitz is when we see a full-fledged iteration of the superhero Crowley performing dashing and heroic deeds under the literal cover of darkness and air bomb smoke. In a bespoke double-breasted suit and a fedora — still free from the unfortunate modern connotations from the internet culture — he’s clearly channeling Humphrey Bogart as a private investigator Sam Spade in The Maltese Falcon (1941) now.

It all starts with a woman and a simple plan gone wrong: Spade’s partner is shot dead, just like the man he was supposed to be tailing upon the request of a mysterious Miss Wonderly. And when a very soft-looking, sweet-scented man named Joel Cairo appears in his office willing to pay a hefty price for a "black figure of a bird", Spade starts not only a new job, but also his own quest for truth.

On the surface, The Maltese Falcon ends happily: the killer gets caught, and the hero winds up with the Falcon. But Spade's victory is completely hollow. The Falcon itself, originally meant as a symbol of loyalty, transforms into a symbol of a corrupting, futile, and self-destructive greed that makes people betray their own loyalties.

The treasure is just a worthless forgery and he’s fallen in love with the criminal — one of the first femmes fatales on screen. Despite his feelings for her and a kiss, Spade gives her up and submits the statuette as evidence, describing it as "the stuff that dreams are made of".

Remember the eagle lectern? The eagle was believed to be flying highest in the sky and therefore closest to heaven, symbolizing the carrying of the word of God to the four corners of the world. Aziraphale in the 1941 church scene is the closest to Heaven we’ve seen him on Earth. Just look at him: dressed in a smart, well-fitted coat with peaked lapels, symbolizing his Heavenly allegiance, and doing good this time not as a work assignment, but of his own accord. Being the closest to Heaven means the furthest and most unattainable for a demon like Crowley.

The Maltese Falcon is a metaphor for unattainability — things out of reach to desire and fight for, although never truly possess. It’s “the stuff that dreams are made of”. But Crowley secured the original — made of gold and encrusted with jewels, but hiding its real value under black enamel — eerily reminiscent of the demon himself and the unending kindness behind his inappropriately tight black clothing.

Quoting Michael Ralph — the production mastermind behind Good Omens — from the S01E04 “Saturday Morning Funtime” DVD commentary, “We wanted to tip our hat to the Maltese Falcon as being a precious object that no-one thought really exists but it does”. So we can safely assume that Crowley can and will achieve his dream in the future.

1967

Do you know what else happens in 1941 in Scotland? Ian Fleming, a British naval intelligence agent, meets with the famous occultist Aleister Crowley and asks him to lead the interrogation of newly imprisoned Rudolf Hess — a leading member of the Nazi Party in Nazi Germany appointed Deputy Führer — given the two men’s shared enthusiasm for the occult.

This meeting has a significant impact on Fleming’s work as a writer; Aleister Crowley becomes the inspiration for his first villain Le Chiffre and creates a blueprint for most of the James Bond’s franchise ever since 1953, the publication date of the novel Casino Royale.

Meanwhile our Anthony J. Crowley believes in himself not being the villain he’s usually and sometimes forcefully painted as, but a superhero in disguise. The character of James Bond in particular inspires him so much that he buys petrol to get the limited You Only Live Twice (1967) window decals for his Bentley, dons his own tactical turtleneck, and sets off to organize a heist like no other. Sean Connery style.

Like a typical superhero, Crowley’s once again both saved and betrayed by his love interest. Aziraphale leaves him with a thermos of Holy Water, a faint smile, and a hope that they’ll soon match their speeds to meet halfway at the Ritz. The cancelled heist is not an ending, but a promise of a new beginning. And the fact that UK decriminalizes homosexual acts in the very same year is more than telling in this regard.

2019

An exceptional situation calls for exceptional solutions, and what’s more important than the impending Apocalypse? Demon Crowley does his best to put the arsenal of his 20th century film inspirations to good use.

"Ask yourself, do you feel lucky?" Crowley drawls, clearly imitating (although slightly misquoting) the titular Dirty Harry (1971). He’s hoping to be menacing and making the point of being the one on the right side of the law and history.

Some situations require more than quoting action heroes is not everything though. He knows what to do:

A jeep was heading purposefully towards the gate, and it looked as though it was crowded with people who were about to shout questions and fire guns and not worry about which order they did this in.

[Crowley] brightened up. This was more what you might call his area of competence.

He took his hands out of his pockets and he raised them like Bruce Lee and then he smiled like Lee Van Cleef.

'Ah,' he said, 'here comes transport.'

When in doubt, Crowley acts. He transforms into a combination of a stoic martial arts phenomenon and a sardonic, menacing character. His smile alone — even on Aziraphale’s angelic face, as seen in one of the final cut scenes — seems to be enough to ward off evil spirits, angels, and humans alike.

But we all know that even as breathtaking performances as those can’t protect anyone from the cogs of the Heavenly machine and its plans.

2023

No wonder that Crowley’s tactical turtleneck comes back in style after mere four years of retirement with a self-introduction “Former Demon, hated by Heaven, loathed by Hell. How will our hero cope?”. Something has changed during this time; he’s more mature now, not playing pretend by hiding behind the usual veneer of sarcasm and movie quotes anymore. Finally comfortable with the fact that this is his own story and there’s no need to become anyone else than himself.

The bookshop fire and the Heavenly trial still seem to haunt the demon in a way that makes him realize what all humans know: that every hero is his own biggest enemy. His ultimate dream might effortlessly change into his greatest nightmare any moment now, and the only thing he can do about it is hover in a two-minute distance from the epicenter of his feelings. But Crowley has no time to work on it when a new mission appears, to protect his angel from Gabriel and the combined powers of Heaven and Hell. Even if this — rather ostentatiously — is the last thing he wants to think about at the moment.

Crowley tries to plan ahead, while his story slowly warps into a different genre due to Aziraphale’s interruptions. He eventually changes back into his usual Henley shirt after agreeing to swap places and guarding the bookshop while the angel is off to Edinburgh, collecting more clues. Did he finish his personal quest off-screen? Did he just give up on it in the whirlwind of matchmaking shenanigans? Remains to be seen.

In the S2 finale our master of disguise in yet another turtleneck proves that he can successfully infiltrate even the universe’s back office. We don’t know where he drives off in the end, but one thing is certain — he’s got a plan. And a world (and his dream) to save, like a superhero he is.

#a turtleneck kind of day #crowley is a superhero #and a master spy #with a plan #good omens #good omens 2 #good omens meta #go2 meta #ineffable husbands #crowley #turtleneck crowley #yuri is doing her thing

[slayfics]

Muichiro’s Mansion

Muichiro x Reader series

Muichiro decides it’s time you start going on missions with him.

Chapter 7

Muichiro had been gone for two days now and you were sure he’d return soon. You had picked out some new plants for the house to replace the dead ones, since you decided they were too far passed to nurse back to life. You also made sure to train extra hard like he asked you to do.  

You were sitting down eating when you heard the front door open and Muichiro enter.

“Welcome back Master Tokito!” You said with a smile.  

"That smells good.” He said, commenting on the food you had just finished making.

“There is plenty more if you’re hungry.”  You replied, and Muichiro sat down to eat with you.

“How was the mission?” You asked, wanting to know what kind of demon he had encountered.

“Simple. Just some minor demons to take care of and some scared Kanoto ranks to save. It’s a wonder they made it this far. That demon was child’s play. They should have been able to handle it without a Hashira.” He stated. “I want you to come with me on my next mission.”

“Really??” You couldn't help but let the excitement show on your face. Your first mission together. This must mean he had felt you were getting stronger. Even if it was just a simple lower rank demon you two would go against, this meant he trusted you and your abilities finally. The thought of being able to accompany Tokito by his side as his Tsuguko gave your stomach butterflies.  

“Yes, I think you are more than capable.” He said, as he finished scarfing down some food. “Also, before I forget I passed a village on the way back and brought you this.” He said holding out a hair pin with beautiful flowers on the end. “That is your favorite color right?”

“Yes, it is.” You said grabbing it from his hand unsure of what to say. Muichiro hardly remembered anything, so the fact that he remembered your favorite color and stopped to pick something out for you was leaving you dumbfounded. You weren't sure what to say, or how to feel. You stared at the hair pin in your hand trying to figure out the right words.

“Do you not like it?” He asked, tilting his head to the side.  

“No that’s not it! I’m I- It's very beautiful thank you Tokito.” You finally managed to say. He grabbed it back from your hand and moved closer to you and gently placed it in your hair. He sat directly in front of you now, staring at you intently. You weren't sure what to do, it felt like when a cat climbs into your lap and you're afraid if you move or breathe it will get scared away. He stayed silent taking you in for a few moments before speaking again. 

“We should get some rest. Training starts back up tomorrow at dawn. Once I get another mission, we will leave right away together.” He said getting up and starting to help clear the table. You stayed frozen for a few more moments still trying to process what had just happened.   “Oh, were you not done eating?” He asked, seeing you still sitting down.

“Sorry I am!” You said getting up quickly and helping to clear the table.

"Also the plants look nice, thank you. I'll try to remember to water them this time." He said.

"I could also tend to them for you if you wish." You offered. 

"Hmm.." He said and seemed to space off. "Yes... maybe that would be better. Goodnight.'' He said and left swiftly in the direction of his room. 

You watched as he walked to his room leaving you alone in the room. You sat back down to try and process the events of the night, so much had changed it was dizzying. 

Muichiro had brought you back a gift, remembered your favorite color, helped clean the table again, and he was offering to take you on missions. A warm smile found its way to your face as you realized your relationship with the Hashira was finally growing. For once you felt he might enjoy having you as his Tsuguko. You made your way back to your room feeling proud and happy for the first time in a long time.

It did not take long for Muichiro to be summoned to another mission. The next day in the middle of training a crow came to tell him of a demon lurking in the area he oversaw.

“Are you ready?” He asked. “I am!” You replied enthusiastically.

“Let’s go then.” He said and disappeared in the direction of the reported demon, and you followed behind as best as you could. 

#kny x reader #kny x you #anime x reader #demon slayer #demon slayer x reader #anime x y/n #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer x y/n #demon slayer x you #muichiro x reader #muichiro tokito #hashira x reader #mist hashira #kny x y/n #kny fanfic #muichiro x y/n #kny muichiro #muichiro’s mansion

[kiiwiigii]

The Red-Eyed Boy pt. i

Pt. Two | Three | Outtake

Alec x Swan!Fem!Reader

Summary: When Edward goes to the Volturi seeking death he accidentally exposes Bella's sister. Not taking any chances Alec is sent to finish you.

Warnings:

I haven't written ff in forever soooo...

Also I have trouble with the whole Y/N thing.

Language

Kinda, sorta NSFW I guess? Lot's of kissing.

Word Count: 1,938

A/N: Alec is aged up.

Aro let his mouth twist into a cruel smirk. Apparently, the Swan girl was dead, a sad waste of possible talent he lamented silently, but what was done was done. Edward had had no intention of turning her anyway, so what did it matter?

However, there had been another problem that Edward hadn't meant to expose.

Her sister.

"NO!" Edward shouted. "No! No, she's not aware. She doesn't know-"

"Now, now Edward. We cannot take chances, you know this. The girl already has her suspicions."

Edward's face crumpled into a half snarl. Going to the Volturi for your own death was one thing, but not only had he been denied this sweet relief, he had sentenced another to death. Surely he could get them to understand that Y/N was completely in the dark. Sure she had suspicions but that was just it. Suspicions. And aside from a few shopping trips with Alice (in which Alice had to practically drag Y/N out of the house in an attempt to get to know her better) she had stayed relatively far away. What Bella should have done, he thought with a cringe.

"Alec." Aro called over his shoulder.

Alec was at his master's side in less than a second, staring blankly ahead and awaiting orders.

"You are to head the Swan household in Forks. Take care of Bella's sister."

"Of course Master."

Alec gave a bow before sharing a look with his own sister and heading out of the throne room; Edward's renewed attempt at talking Aro into sparing the other Swan girl's life fading away ever so slightly. He couldn't help but smirk. Fresh blood that didn't have to be delivered. A chance to hunt. Maybe he would play with his food before he finished her off. Make her run. Make her beg. Or perhaps... a different kind of begging. A begging brought on with kisses and meaningless words whispered in her ear. His smirk twisted into a smile. There were always different ways to play, right?

Dad,

I'm with Alice. Edward's in trouble. You can ground me when I get back. I know it's a bad time. So sorry. Love you so much.

Bella

"You gotta be fucking kidding me."

With a groan I let the letter slip from my fingers and back to its original place on the kitchen counter. I knew Bella was still healing, but never in my wildest dreams did I picture her dropping everything and just taking off for the boy who dumped her.

I paused, leaning against the counter with my head in my hands, wondering if I should just go ahead and call dad or wait to break the news to him when he got home. On the one hand if I called him now, it would distract him from his job... however if I didn't tell him now and he finds out I knew before he got home, I could possibly land myself in hot water and get grounded myself. And oh boy was Bella going to get grounded. Probably for the rest of the year if not her life.

She probably figured I'd find the letter first and would butter dad up anyways. Soften the blow that his eldest daughter went missing with a barely half-assed explanation. Well, she would be wrong about the latter at least. She'd be dealing with dad by herself on that one. As much as I loved her, I didn't want to be mixed up in her shenanigans.

Mind made up, I picked up my cell to make the dreaded call, and as expected dad picked up on the first ring.

"Uh, hey dad..."

I'm dreaming of him again. The boy with the red eyes.

He was standing in front of a familiar house, just watching. Waiting. I could see it in his eyes as they flicked back and forth. He was contemplating something, his head tilting just slightly as he took in the sloping roof and the off-white siding that was in severe need of cleaning. A truck and police car rested in its driveway, silent and empty.

My heart leapt. Why was he in front of my house? I'd dreamt of this boy plenty of times before, but never had he been in my own yard. Or anywhere I was even familiar with.

Instead, he was usually shrouded by a fine black mist. Sometimes, if I was lucky enough, he would simply be doing something rather mundane, like reading a book or walking in a garden. Other times my dreams would be rather violent, and I could hear the screaming of his victims as he ripped them to shreds. Then there was the girl that usually stood by his side. If the boy was violent, she was easily a hundred times worse. It was like watching a horror movie come to life and I couldn't close my eyes. I found that I didn't want to close my eyes. He was fascinating to me.

Or maybe it's because I'm a weird and sick individual.

He circled around to the back of the house now, his eyes trailing upwards until they landed on the second-floor window, a smirk beginning to curl on his lips.

My window.

I woke up with a gasp, clutching at my sheets.

What the fuck?

My imagination was finally getting away from me.

I couldn't help but look towards my window, still tightly shut and locked, only the soft glow of fairy lights winking back at me. Untangling myself from my sheets, I slipped from my bed and plodded over to the window. Nothing's out there, I thought. It's a stupid dream. They've all been stupid dreams. The red-eyed boy doesn't exist, Y/N. I unlocked the window and pushed it upwards before sticking my head out and looking around. Of course, I couldn't see worth shit but I squinted my eyes anyway, you know, just in case it would help me see better.

The yard was dark and empty. No handsome, red-eyed boys anywhere to be found.

I almost breathed a sigh of relief before a loud jingle broke through the silence, causing me to jump and slam my head into the window.

"Fuck." I hissed, cradling the spot that I could now feel a nice bruise forming.

It took me a moment to realize that the jingle was coming from my phone. Scrambling towards my dresser I managed to trip on the sheets I'd thrown off just minutes ago and go crashing to the floor. Tonight was just not my night. Despite my new entanglement, I reached up and managed to grab my phone, flipping it open without looking at the caller ID.

"Y/N? Y/N?" The voice on the other end was frantic.

Bella. I finally let out a breath I didn't realize I had been holding, the tension easing from my shoulders for the first time in days.

"Who else would it be?"

Despite my irritation and anger from her stunt I couldn't help but crack a grin as relief flooded through me. She was safe. I could already feel the hysterical laughter bubbling up. But that was quickly quashed as a new voice spoke from behind me.

"You're just as clumsy as your dear sister."

I whirled around and promptly dropped the phone as my eyes took in the dark figure standing at my feet. He was beautiful. Sinfully so. Dressed in all black, his pale skin stood out all the more. Agonizingly perfect and flawless, with dark hair sweeping across his forehead. And his eyes. Oh those eyes. My dreams didn't do them justice. Didn't do any piece of him justice.

"You." I breathed; eyes wide.

He suddenly tensed as our eyes met.

"You." He repeated.

Before I could blink, he was right before me, a gloved hand cradling my face. My mind was going haywire, trying to comprehend just what was happening. What was this pull I was feeling? What is this warmth? Did he feel it too?

"Your eyes." I whispered.

He arched a brow in amusement. "What of them?"

"They're beautiful. Like- like rubies." I stuttered quietly, feeling myself flush. "Am- am I dreaming again?"

Now both brows shot up. He probably thought I was crazy. And at this point he would be right. The boy that I had literally been dreaming about since I was a child was right in front of me.

"Y/N!"

The faraway crackle of my phone pulled me back to reality and I slowly picked it up, watching the boy in front of me. He made no move to stop me, only brushing a cool thumb across my cheek.

Wait, when had he lost the glove?

"I- I'm here."

"Did you hear anything I said?"

It was Alice Cullen

"Er- no."

"Listen," Alice began hurriedly. "I know this a lot to take in, but Alec isn't going to hurt you. It's- mates are a complicated thing in the vampire world."

"I'm sorry, what now?" I blinked rapidly as I tried to process what she was saying.

There was a low growl before I felt the phone being taken from my hands gently. I would be lying if that growl hadn't sent butterflies fluttering in my stomach.

"Cullen. Given your talent I think you would know that Y/N is perfectly safe with me." He leaned in as he tilted my head back, his nose running along my neck. "She is my mate after all."

My breath hitched at not only his words but the little nips and licks he began to trail along my neck, cool against my flushed skin. Oh gods, this could not be legal.

"Please inform Aro that Bella's sister will be coming to stay with us soon."

With a click he snapped the phone shut and molded his lips mine. I was pretty sure that my heart was about to beat out of my chest. Finally, he let me come back up for air with a small nibble on my bottom lip and burying his face back into my neck, his hands running down my sides in a slow caress.

"So- so you're Alec?"

He let out an actual purr at the sound of his name. "Say it again."

"You know people usually introduce themselves before making out right?"

There was a growl in response, and I almost let out a moan. Oh fuck, please stop doing that. It was doing weird things to my body.

"Alec."

He lifted himself up to look at me again, eyes no longer that beautiful ruby red but nearly pitch black. He kissed me again and again, swiping his tongue along my lower lip before delving into my mouth with a hunger that shot heat straight between my legs. This time I moaned. He chuckled as he pulled away, placing light kisses along my jaw until he reached my ear and nibbling yet again. Lord did this boy like to nibble.

"I will be back, mio cara."

Suddenly he disappeared just as my door opened and my dad stood there looking rather alarmed. I just blinked at him in a daze.

"I heard voices." He grumbled, looking for all the world like he had just rolled out of bed... which he had.

I felt my face heat back up, trying to figure out exactly what he had heard and trying to come up with an excuse.

"Uhm. I heard from Bella!"

For once my sister saved the day.

NEXT

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#alec volturi x reader #alec volturi #volturi #twilight #fanfiction #reader insert #x reader

[factual-fantasy]

Heya Factual! Congrats on the 23,000! Yet another well deserved milestone earned by your hard work and dedication! Really sorry about the cold- we always seem to get sick at the worst of times! Definitely don't do anything crazy till you're 100%, but thanks for making that really cute celebration piece- you can really tell how much the factual Fam cares about you from their worried expressions...and then there's Gerald, who refuses to let his happy demeanor waver for a second! Though then again, he is still quite young- he might not even understand the concept of getting sick yet!

And on that note, at least till you're better, I definitely won't send any unnecessarily exhausting Asks like last time ( thanks for answering that so thoroughly though- that was really cool! ) and just keep it simple- and my ask today is regarding the simplest Mario enemy, the goomba!

You've mentioned them in the past as beings created by Kamek- How does he do it? How long has he been doing it? Are the goombas sentient, or just savage constructs? How many are there, in ratio to the Koopas? Did the bros have to fight through a bunch of them on their way to the castle? And do any of their variants exist, such as the micro goombas, para goombas, or giant goombas? We require the Goomba Lore!

Thank you! :DD I'm doing my best to take it easy.. I've spent most of my days recently either sleeping, sitting, or playing Pokemon Scarlet XDD that's relaxing right? Yes, I believe so-

As for Gerald, he isn't ignorant to my condition- he's actually meant to be surprisingly emotionally aware. :0 He's smiling though all this because he wants the others to be happy. And if he's calm and smiling, maybe we'll smile too.. 🥺

I was intending to draw a comic that goes into Gerald's character a bit more... But I just haven't been well enough recently to take on a project like that.. :((

And don't worry about "exhausting asks", I encourage them! :D I could really use some lengthy asks as a form of distraction to be honest.. 🥹💔

Speaking of asks, about your Goomba questions..

Well, starting with Kamek actually- I have intentions to make him a few hundred years old. Being the most powerful magikoopa there ever was supposedly.. and he's been associated with the royal Koopa family for generations.. though this idea is in canon limbo, because I'm having trouble figuring how exactly he's managed to live so long. Considering how magic works in my au.. his lengthy life span shouldn't be possible..

None the less, even though I haven't gotten that idea to fit yet- I love it so much that most of the au kinda branches off from it- <XDDD so with that established, Kamek brings Goombas to "life" using magic of course!

I was thinking that the ability animate dead/inanimate things is a very complex magic that took Kamek years to learn. And he was only finally able to master it in the last 100 years or so.

Now for the Goombas, they are not sentient for sure. They are just these little.. zombie like.. machines. They start as poisonous mushrooms and when they are "brought to life", they gain this desire and need move and attack anything that doesn't appear to be a Koopa.

As for the Koopa to Goomba ratio.. I'd say they make up 1.5/10 of the kingdoms population. They are very disposable and "easy" to make.. but they are relatively fragile creatures and take a while to grow.. plus the Goombas don't live very long. Since they uproot themselves upon being "Goomba-fied", they eventually wilt and die.. :/ so that number doesn't ever go over 1.5.

I'm sure Mario and Luigi had to squash some on the way to save Peach the first time. But it was only after her rescue that one landed a bite on Luigi..

As for their variants, the micro and Giant Goombas surly exist! Though king Goomba might not because the original brown mushrooms probably don't grow that big-

As for para-goombas.. hmm.. I know there won't be any Goombas with wings going around. But perhaps there could be a Goomba that can release airborne spores.. or at the very least can attack from afar.. that could get them the title of para-goomba! :0

I think I covered everything, I hope at least-

Thank you for the ask and interest in my au! :DDD it was a nice read and took my mind off of all my ailments for a short time 🥹💖

#my response #super mario bros #i really gotta work on kameks plot holes #i want him to be super oldddd #being loyal to the koopa family for generations.. #hes personally met them #all the family stories and secrets and grief this man knows... #OH OH ALSO #it would be so cool if he was 100s of years old and when you look closer at him you realize not much of his original body remains- #he would be so creepy and haunting #you'd wonder how much of this man is “kamek” and how much is a brainwashed drone meant to serve the king.. #ooooo hes so fun i love kamek #i wanna draw him so baaadddd 😭😭💔

[film-in-my-soul]

The Death of Translation | 10,968 | landwriter / @landwriter

Summary: One day, in spring, he comes to the Inn. Hob looks up and he’s there, and the relief is blinding. He thinks tu m’as manqué, fuck, because you were missing from me feels more true than I missed you ever has. English missing was ruined for him the moment he learned the French way of it. Longing is meant to be a reflexive verb. It would be a bad faith translation, even for him. He tells himself this is why he doesn’t say it. He thinks at last, and that’s a doable one. So he smiles, says, “You’re late.”

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aulon raid | 2,457 | Moorishflower / @moorishflower

Summary: The New Inn is as close to a church as Hob can build, a monument to stories, a tribute to dreams. He has a baseball bat, 600 years of fighting experience, and an anthropomorphic representation of dreaming to impress. In other words, no neonazis allowed.

Dream of a thousand kisses | 6,335 | fellshish / @fellshish

Summary: Dream wants his reunion with Hob to go perfectly after their big fight so he visits Hob’s dreams to rehearse the moment. During one of those practice dreams, Hob suddenly kisses him.

an immortal's guide to contrition | 6,619 | trellomonkey

Summary: “I’ll win him over,” he says, resolute. “I’ll woo him.” In 1889, Hob Gadling has a falling out with his friend. He spends the next century coming up with a way to make it up to him.

Make Me Immortal With A Kiss | 8,611 | WyvernQuill / @wyvernquill

Summary: He doesn’t know why he does it. It’s perhaps the biggest mistake of all his 500 years on God’s green earth. But in that strange, treacle-slow moment on the wet street with the rain falling around him, with His Stranger’s arm shaking under his fingers - God, has he ever even laid hands on him before? Hob can’t recall - it seems like the only obvious course of action. Hob grabs him by the lapels of his black coat and drags him into a desperate, needy kiss.

the Endless marginalia | 11,210 | LydeNicoKITE / @nicolodigenovas

Summary: Dream was… different than what he’d expected. Sure, he was eloquent, a bit standoffish, slightly snobbish, endlessly knowledgeable about literature and history and, not surprisingly, dead languages. This all fit the image Dream conveyed in interviews and public appearances. But he also had a weird passion for unusual pets —he once kept a raven as personal companion, then was too heartbroken by her passing to find a worthy successor—, wrote down his dreams because ‘that’s where ideas come from’, tended to trust horoscopes too much, and was so competitive when playing cards he did not hesitate to cheat his way to victory.

sweet devotion, gentle hope | 12,369 | winterbucky (WinterLadyy)

Summary: When a strange woman sometime in the 17th century tells Hob he's a High Priest, it doesn't take him all that long to figure out which God he serves - what else could his Stranger be but a God? That settled, he spends the next decades making sure their temple (the White Horse) is perfect, that his God knows Hob is devoted. So when his Stranger doesn't show up for their 1989 meeting, Hob doesn't take it laying down. Instead, he uses all the knowledge he collected over the years to summon his God into his temple - thus, saving Dream from Burgess, albeit unknowingly. What follows is a series of adventures as Hob joins Dream on his quest to find his tools. They may even discover something new about their relationship on the way.

the gift of hindsight | 13,733 | itsthechocopuff

Summary: What if, when they meet in the twenty-first century, Hob is a little more human, a little slower to forgive, and Dream a little more cognizant of how one should treat centuries-old friends, though no more socially competent?

Inspire in Me, the Desire in Me | 14,850 | ElloPoppet

Summary: It’s the right day, but the year is all wrong, and Dream suspects that there’s something else not quite right even before he finds himself standing in front of the shuttered remains of the White Horse Tavern. Still, he’s chilled in a way he’s not accustomed to feeling, reminiscent of the hopeless, free-falling frost that climbed up his spine and inside his gut the day he was meant to meet Hob when he was imprisoned. And that’s what it is, he realizes, this cold feeling. Hopelessness. Should Dream seek him out, would Hob welcome him as a friend, or turn his shoulder as he would on an intruder? It’s what he would deserve, Dream muses as he’s preparing to turn heel from the tavern’s closed gates, even though as he’s resigning himself to shame he’s also gearing up to make this his next mission, his next purpose: to find Hob Gadling.

Black Coffee | 17,133 | Darci

Summary: He almost misses the table in the back corner. Far from the front windows and veiled by a thin curtain of ivy, a single table calls to Hob from across the cafe. It's only when he approaches the corner that Hob realises that table is occupied. Small wonder he missed this detail the first time; the man seated at the table is dressed entirely in black, and he's looking down at an open book so Hob can only see a shock of black hair. Still, there's nowhere else to sit, and apparently none of the students are inclined to share a table with a man who looks like a raven in human form. Hob clears his throat and puts on his best smile. "Excuse me, would you mind if I shared your table?"

Radio Silence | 17,151 | Moorishflower / @moorishflower

Summary: Ten years ago, the world ended all at once. It ended in flour. In rye. In the sound of pancake mix being opened in the morning, and the beep of the rice cooker, and the scent of fresh bread. And on the afternoon of June 13th, 2013, former novelist Dream Endeles finds a still-working portable radio and intercepts a distress call.

For Want of Caution | 20,663 | mayanpaw

Summary: Hob Gadling was not by nature a cautious man but even he knew the value of keeping track of those who would be too… intrigued by his condition. In 1926, a chance conversation in a bar alerts Hob to the fact that Roderick Burgess has captured another immortal, one that sounds eerily similar to his friend.

the space that’s in between (every page, every chord, every screen) | 26,293 | im_not_corrupted / @im-not-corrupted

Summary: Before, Hob Gadling never believed he’d be unfortunate enough to love someone who’d never love him back. He’s never coughed up flowers before, and he’s willing to bet he never will. After 1789, Hob Gadling dreams of his Stranger, realises a few things about himself, and coughs up his first flower petal.

Tidings of Comfort and Joy | 55,441 | Xx_vergil_xX

Summary: December 19th, 1334 – Sir Morpheus Oneiros Endelēas and his sister, Teleute de Morte Endelēas, participate in the King's annual Christmas hawking competition. Sir Morpheus, scouring the woods in pursuit, comes across three women – a maiden, a mother, and an old crone – who offer him a strange ruby amulet, a journey to the future, and a Christmas quest whose details are a little fuzzy. With only a warning that his failure will doom him to a lifetime in the future, Sir Morpheus is suddenly thrown smack into Nottingham, 2022. December 19th, 2022 – Hob Gadling, a high school history teacher in Nottingham, driving his son, Robyn, and family friends Rose and Jed Walker, to the opening of the town's Christmas castle, hits a medieval knight with his car. Hijinks ensue.

nurse my pride, throw in a please | 58,371 | OrangeChickenPillow

Summary: Hob is a patient man, and Dream is a stubborn one. Or a stubborn something, considering Hob still doesn't quite understand what exactly he is. In fact, there isn't much he does know about his stranger, and even less about his stranger's family -- so Hob certainly hadn't expected his friend's sister to waltz on into The New Inn asking if he had any apples and telling him that she was in town for work that "luckily" didn't involve him. And, naturally, he also hadn't seen it coming when she told him that his stranger needed his help. But if Hob had learned anything in his unnaturally long life, it was that things never went quite how you were expecting them to -- and sometimes you wound up breaking into a rich magician's basement to get your friend back.

Master Reclist · Personal Masterlist · Blog Nav.

#dreamling #dream/hob #dreamling reclist #reclist #fanfic reclist #the sandman reclist

[marthammasters]

@revenge-of-the-assbutt @firstaidspray @sachermorte thank u for enabling me NEWAY since I’ve been too dead to do any of my own hobbies here’s some thoughts on House & Co’s physical hobbies/lil crafts & such they do in the comfort of their home<3:

House: canonically does a ton of shit like piano/guitar/cooking/so on but In the spirit of him resisting change (At Times!) I think he’s gotten very good if not makes a fun time out of mending clothes🥺…. Didn’t wanna throw away his favorite shirts so it started w small hems+resizings until he looked up more tips online and get decorative w it. Pretty contrasting colors/patterns now randomly laid on his shirts and pants w only the careful eye(Cuddy+Wilson) to notice. If anyone cares

Wilson: gardening. Well as much one can do within his apartments/pretty nonplant friendly homes. He’s not a super greenthumb expert but it always gives him a lil confidence boost when he’s able to grow out spices and herbs & such to use in his cooking ♥️

Cuddy: she seems like a collage-making kind of girlie💗💗 no specific theme in em or anything but she still holds onto the potential self-aid of making vision boards and it’s relaxing for her to go thru magazines/etc + cut out whatever interests her enough to use. Rachel tries and cutely fails to help 💓💓💓

Chase: ironically enough for the prodigal son lol but . He genuinely seems like someone who enjoys spending time in silence/music doing puzzles w 1000+ pieces & such #DWEEB❤️. House once got him a 5000 piece puzzle of a kangaroo or w/e as a joke and he is Determined to complete it. In due time chase…

Foreman: the thought of Foreman crocheting is so dear to me….. he doesn’t rly tell anyone ab it but there’s a lot of half-finished + worn projects as proof around his home. #angsting it sorry but I think he took it up after his mom started deteriorating bc she crocheted too and it was a fonder reminder + sumn they could do together. One yr he gave the fellow ducklings scarves he made as Xmas gift. Not that he told him he made it tho😅#repressed

Cameron: I think she has a moderately sized zen garden on a table somewhere in her home she takes SERIOUS. Changes the lines/circles in the sand periodically, sees what new arrangement of rocks she can do etc etc. Girl that thing is meant to be relaxing!! also colorcodes/sticker-covers/etc her planner like a CHAMP.

Amber: she has the most well-detailed prettiest most concerning-when-read journal/diary everrrr. Dedicates a specific time in every day to it w specific pens of various colors. Some of the recounting even have lil doodles or if she takes the journal out w her she draws her view wherever she is<3 they’re literal chickenscratch but its still fun and fulfilling. It’s a bibleesque piece to Wilson’s Amber shrine btw

Thirteen: she’s hard to analyze for me soz 13heads I do love her #trust… nonetheless I bet she goes to hella dance classes. Partially for the exercise partially for the fun partially for the need to experience Life partially for the women. Heh. She’s rly into zumba, jazz, contemporary classes to be specific.

Taub: ok ok so remember when he did/bought pottery or w/e to convince his wife he was being faithful. I think he’d do it for real as a joke/alibi then be like wait…. This is kinda fun…? There’s no constraints to what he can make + the sculpting reminds him vaguely of plastic surgery work so he keeps it up.

Kutner: I think he draws + writes his own lil comics/zines 🫶 they’re mostly scifi or superhero and more than a lil inspired by his fave preexisting medias . He likes using the crazy cases he’s experienced w House as story inspo. Also he 4 sure runs dnd campaigns so well and fun. Btw

Masters: she’s a suckerrrr for trivia nights my lil nerd wife<3 but um anyway when she wants to relax she Really doesn’t want sumn that can become info overload so in free time she’ll make friendship bracelets, lil shapes/figures out of string, etc. Will someone please give this woman a full on loom to go cray with!!!!

Park: I can see it so clearly . I can see her lil handpainted warhammer and other tabletop game figures so perfectly in my head. She paints more than she actually plays(but she does !). God save you if you touch or tumble them.

Adams: I kinda DGAF about her sorry women… hmm there’s sumn compelling ab her doing blackout poetry plus occasionally full-on written when the inspo hits! started as a boredom thing in her job in the prison w whatever book she brought in then she kept on doing it w more and more written pieces she comes across.

I put so much time into this. Perhaps too much.😭feel free to gimme y’all’s thoughts on this/ur own ideas :3

#I’ve gone mental. #house Md #house #Gregory house #James Wilson #Lisa Cuddy #lee postz #Robert chase #Allison Cameron #Eric foreman #Amber volakis #remy thirteen hadley #Chris taub #Lawrence Kutner #Martha m masters #chi park #Jessica adams #hatecrimes Md #hate crimes Md #Martha masters #James Evan wilson #Greg house

[fandomforg]

i love star wars time travel fix-it as much as the next guy, but we need to be thinking bigger! none of this ‘clone wars obiwan goes back to his childhood’ nonsense, let’s see how far we can rocket some unsuspecting force sensitive back in time

now, i’m not familiar with anything outside of movies/tv shows, so someone else could probably rocket them further, but i wanna send like rey, freshly skywalker’d, back to like pre jaster mereel’s death. yes i want her to be like 10 and feral and adopted by jaster. because he’s my favorite and i said so.

so she’s just standing there with her yellow lightsaber that is now far too big for her child hands, suddenly she has a shiny new buir and an eight year old brother that seems vaguely familiar??? like his name rings a bell?? but what could this little kid possibly do that would have such an effect on galactic history that she would know of him like 90ish years in the future???

so basically rey’s wracking her brain for that one pre-imperial history class she took that one time for anything useful she can do to help save the future. all she’s able to come up with is pretty much ‘palpatine bad’. rey would totally just go off on her own to kill him (and make sure he stays dead, the crafty bitch), but jaster seems strangely reluctant to let his ten year old daughter take a ship by herself to assassinate an extremely small-time politician from a peaceful world without any sort of explanation.

but regardless, rey kinda just ends up butterfly-effecting stuff as she grows up a little bit. like preventing jaster’s death and galidraan. in turn, leading to jango not building his revenge army and a generally more stable mandalore system, maybe?? all the while, she’s is getting some sick mando training and super cool armor, like any self-respecting jedi-adopted-by-mandalorians would.

actually, at galidraan, rey’s able to meet up with some jedi for the first time! hooray! dooku’s not quite sure what to do with this strange, unknown, armored, force sensitive teen with a weird, jerry-rigged lightsaber.

rey takes this opportunity to lay out every bad thing palpatine has done/will do in the most incoherent way possible. when asked how she knows this, rey panics and answers that the force told her so. unbeknownst to her, this is actually a completely valid answer to give these jedi masters, and the incoherence of her explanation made it seem even more plausible to be a string of confusing force visions, rather than being completely made up. the masters, particularly dooku, promise to look into the possibility of a sith and ask rey if she’d like to come to the temple with them.

she, of course, goes ‘yes, absolutely! i’ll go tell buir and jango that we’ll all take a trip to coruscant together!’ and the masters just grimace and go ‘yeah for sure that’s definitely what we meant’

they go to the temple, and amongst talks about the sith, and jaster just having a delightful time in the jedi archives (rey has a delightful time too, just think of how master skywalker would react to all these jedi texts!), rey gets to meet a preteen obiwan! fresh off of child soldier-ing on melida/daan! he’s a little traumatized at the moment, but rey is just so excited to finally recognize a historical figure other than her shitty grandpa. she then obviously latches onto little obiwan and like. vibes with him. obiwan is a little baffled by this cool older mandalorian teen that seemingly wants to be his best friend, but he’ll take all the friends he can get after the stressful few months he’s had. rey scares off anyone (padawan, knight, or master) who might give obiwan any shit for melida/daan related stuff. or just anyone that gives him any shit at all.

eventually, palpatine is arrested for tax fraud. he actually is pretty new at the whole ‘sith machinations’ thing at this point, so he didn’t hide his simple tax fraud very well and after his arrest, the jedi are able to get him for the more sith-y crimes. so then the jedi go on the hunt for the sith master.

while they do all that, rey is able to go back to mandalorian space with jaster and jango, making sure to have weekly holo-calls with obiwan and his friends. rey may really miss all her friends and the whole support system she left behind in the future, but she’s got a pretty good support system here as well. hopefully because of her, those friends she left behind in the future will be able to live full, free, and peaceful lives.

#i kinda half wanna make finn go back in time with her #just for the excellent sibling shenanigans #i don’t actually think it would change much other than just ‘finn’s there too!’ #which is honestly very fun #so you can imagine he’s there too #star wars #fanfic #rey star wars #rey skywalker #time travel #time travel fix it #jaster mereel #jango fett #count dooku #obi wan kenobi #finn star wars #forg post

[fearyandear]

Not Who You’re Supposed To Be (Yandere! Revolutionary Servant POV x Captured Princess Y/N)

They took the nobles. Every last one. Most had tried desperately to escape. To blend in with the commoners, or to off themselves with dignity. Some slipped through, but in three days' time, the most important figures had been rounded up like hogs.

Ready to be slaughtered.

Among the first was the 12th princess. The attackers that burst to her room noted how calm she appeared, sitting on her chair with her favorite wine in hand. She'd given them a smile and told them they did a good job.

She was sent to the dungeons with the rest of her family.

Saber knew he shouldn't face her. What was done was done. She had served her purpose as his master, and now, he was free from her command. He was free.

And yet, he grimaced every time he passed the heavily guarded chambers to the underground. They beckoned him.

Only a day was left until the executions. They would be public and humiliating. The best show the country would ever get. And she would be a part of it.

He knew going down would be a mistake. He knew, as much as he denied it, that he'd regret it. That seeing her look at him after his betrayal... would be able to break him.

And still, that night, he ventured.

He used the guards' blindspots. This was a... private affair. He didn't want to explain this to the others. The dungeons creaked and wails prevailed. Heavy doors kept him from seeing their faces. But he had already memorized everyone's place, so he skipped to the end of a row. When he reached her cell, he was surprised by its stillness. Knowing her, she would have been one of the wailers. Her pampered lifestyle meant she'd get aches from the floor of her cell.

A thought targeted him, fast and quick.

What if she's sick? Already dead?

He fumbled with the lock, his initial fear was replaced with the anxiety to check. A swing of the door later, and his terror vanished.

She was standing, facing the outside on the small barred gutter with her head resting in her arms. She hummed as the door closed.

"Is that my little shadow?" She turned to look at him. She had expected him.

Knowing this made him feel conflicted.

Why wasn't she crying? Why did she look... content?

She wasn't being herself.

"You did it." She grinned. "You succeeded. I'm so proud of you!"

She came at him fast. He braced himself. Punches. Thrashing. A slap. Something would make contact, surely this would be her petty litte revenge but-

No.

An embrace.

It felt the same as others she had given him.

She hugged him completely, wholeheartedly nestled into his chest.

And she repeated herself.

"I'm so proud!"

He hated this outcome.

He pushed her. She stumbled but didn't fall.

"You... knew?"

"Of course!"

"How??"

She laughed. It was genuine and hearty, with a snort at the end.

"Saber... I've always known."

What the hell was she talking about.

"I... need you to explain."

She nodded. An explanation of everything was owed. A long one. She theatrically sat in the only bench available, and smoothed her dress.

"I am not a good person, Saber. You of all people know well my wickedness." She held a cheek with a hand. "I knew of the people suffering. I knew that I had the power to stop some of it. But... well, I'm lazy, Saber. I'm lazy and... It was easier not to. To believe that as the least favorite, I couldn't do a thing.... So I'd planned on living life quietly, sending prayers for the poor.

But then they gave me you."

She gazed at him. Met his eyes. They were warm and deep and welcoming. The same eyes as the day he had met her.

"You hated me. You hated everything about us, of course, but serving me especially... you directed it towards this foolish, stubborn princess. And you know what? I found you so admirable for that! You were a person who would change the world! And you'd make it so much better for everyone! So strong, so committed, so intelligent! Oh Saber! You're wonderful!"

Her grin brought him back to annoyance. There was an expression he finally recognized. The one he always felt was patronizing... but... perhaps it had never been. Her words...

Wait-

"So you knew about my plan to betray you? Did you recognize then... my disguise- those nights!"

His cheeks burned. The princess was hysterical.

"Saaabeeer, I knew, I knew! And I liked it. I always loved your touch, Saber. I was so happy too. You saved me from the anxiety of parties and people that I hate... I treasured those moments filled with passion..."

Both cheeks were in her hands now. Saber felt the need to explain himself.

"Those weren't supposed to happen... I had lost myself in the alcohol! I wouldn't have-"

"Oh. I know Saber. It's okay!" Her reassurance quieted him. "Your spite never went away. I'd never delude myself into thinking otherwise! You had a goal. It was just... the wine."

There was a pause. He couldn't look her in the eye.

The alcohol. He'd never drunk any, and... if she had known it was him, she may have been sober enough to know that too. But she was going along for him. He felt ashamed.

"I'm just a dumb princess."

He looked back up.

"I knew that's all I would be. But if I could help you... I thought, at least that'd be good for you. So, I played my part. I never paid attention in my classes. I let you do my homework for me. I made you memorize the secret passageways for dumb errands.... I blabbed about all the gossip I could gather at those stupid parties. And everything fell into place."

She shook a bit. He almost took a step towards her. He was getting distracted. Pieces were falling into place...

"You never once disappointed me. Or the people. You're a hero, Saber! You'll be legendary."

She got back up. He took a better look at her now. Her unkept hair. Her dress had torn and become dirty from sweeping the floor. Her eyes showed her lack of sleep, and the moon made her skin deathly.

But she was still the girl chained to him. She was still the girl with eyes that were glued to him, never out of malice but always out of love.

She had loved him.

She still loved him.

"Princess..."

"When will I be killed?"

His blood ran cold. Reality came flooding back..

"I heard the guards talking about an execution. But I never got the date... and it's been..." She looked to the wall. Three little notches had been made.

"Three days. When will the day be? How much longer will I have to stay here?"

Saber was back to feeling lost.

"I... I don't know."

He lied.

It would be tomorrow.

The princess crossed her arms. She blew out a breath like she always does when she's annoyed.

"Well, I hope it's soon. And I hope you can be the one to do it."

"Me?"

His voice almost cracked. Now she looked stunned.

"Of course you, you jerk! Don't tell me you weren't planning on doing me in yourself! With those eyes? With that built up grudge? I won't have it any other way! It has to be you!"

She got right up to his face. The usually warm eyes were cold. This was a demand. He hated when she did this.

But his usual defiance couldn't be mustered now for some reason...

He couldn't find any bite at all.

He felt his shoulders slump.

Killing her...

"Why are you so okay with this? Why did you let this happen?"

The flame of anger was welling up inside again.

"You could have stopped me. You could have- helped me! If I had known-"

She laughed again. "What do you mean? You hated me! You still hate me! Telling you I'm helping you would've only made you despise me more. Or it'd make you seem unreliable to the others on your side. We nobles are the enemy. Why would they trust in me?"

She shrugged.

"Theres no use in thinking about what could have been. What's done is done."

What's done is done.

"My fate would have been the same. For a better tomorrow with no future royal blood, we will all need to be killed."

No mercy was their rule.

Saber recalled the plan. The guillotine. The space made for the heads and bodies, each to be separated. And to be paraded around.

He couldn't help himself from reaching for her. Softly, he touched her neck.

"So, a beheading?" She had guessed.

It dawned on him how clever she actually was.

He had never noticed.

"Well," Her hand brushed over his. She held it firmly there and was back to meeting his eyes. "I'm glad you came to visit. And I hope you're getting everything you ever wanted."

How can she say such things without an ounce of malice?

He left her cell with her words in his heart. What is it that he wants? The moon was still high. The execution would be in the morning. Her place in line would be near the middle, with the lesser nobles.

She'd be surrounded by the people that mocked her. To die with those she hated.

The hand that touched her neck burned.

He could kill her now.

Surely that'd be preferable?

He imagined it. Squeezing her neck. Watching her eyes bulge. No longer would they smile.

He wanted to cut off his hand.

He can't.

He needed another plan.

He made his way to the servant quarters.

Tonight, he would be a villain.

~

(Doodles of this story found here!)

#yandere #medieval #medieval fantasy #yandere servant #yandere butler #yandere x reader #yandere revolutionary #revolution #yandere male #male yandere #betrayal #angst #forbidden romance #forbidden relationship #villain yandere #yandere villain #an old writing i had forgotten about :V #male yandere x reader #saber #not Who you're supposed to be #nwystb #fear blurbs

[romana-after-dark]

The Wrong Way (Dark Ending): Going Under, Part 3

Raider!Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Raider!Tommy Miller x Fem!Reader

Spotify Playlist

Summery: After you give birth to Ellie in the cabin, Joel fins you and Tommy, besting Tommy in a fight. What happens to you? What happens to Ellie, Tommy, Lorenzo and the rest of the family Little One has acquired? How does Little One learn to cope with her new reality? Does she fall into the darkness that surrounds Joel and all he touches? Can Joel really change for you and your daughter?

WARNINGS FOR FULL FIC, NOT CHAPTER BY CHAPTER UNLESS SOMETHING NEW IS ADDED AFTER MASTER WARNING LIST: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT!!!! Fic contains graphic depictions of sexual assault, rape, molestation, dubcon/non con. MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH WARNING, graphic violence, murder, manipulation, the horrors, Joel being Joel, Tommy being kinda pathetic, Joel's weird sexual fantasies, breeding kink, abuse of power. Just.... all the bad.

******************

For weeks it continued like that, Joel dragging you out of bed and making you go outside, play with Ellie, spend time with June and Tommy… all things that slowly improved your mood. Joel wouldn’t let you drown in your own misery and as much as you hated it, he really had become your lifeboat. 

Ellie was asleep in her bed as you stayed in the room rearranging her clothes and cloth diapers while muffled voices talked outside; Joel had just brought some back from a raid and you were deciding what was salvageable and what she’d fit into. At 2 months she was still very small, but you were setting aside clothes and diapers that she grew out of. Tommy said he’d figure out local women who were pregnant. You’d come to realize how many of the men who didn’t live in the raider house had wives and children… and it concerned you. What was the state they lived in? Were they treated better or worse than you? Were thy beaten and raped? Did they love their husbands? Did their husbands take care of them the way Joel took care of you?

You couldn’t help smiling at the pretty dress he found; he was particularly proud of that one. ‘Isn’t it pretty? It’s a little big for Dolly right now but she’ll look so cute when she grows into it.’

The voices grew and you realized it was an argument outside. Curiosity getting the best of you, you look outside to see Joel and June arguing with each other and Tommy in his signature peace-keeper stance. Joel looked angry although you couldn’t make out his words. Memories of how Lorenzo and Zach were slaughtered in front of you and all the ways Joel brutalized you, and you knew you needed to protect June. With a glance to Ellie to check he’s still asleep and breathing, you run outside to intervene.

“JOEL!” You shout, running around the house to try and get Joel to calm. He at least had some love and respect for you, didn’t he? He brought June here for you, so he must have some regard for her life and what it meant to you? He wanted to be a family, surely he’d spare his daughter’s aunt?

Joel didn’t look at you, shouting at June; something about her attitude and being tired of her muttering under her breath. June, in her part, called him a psychopath and delusional, insisting he would never have a normal family. Before you could reach them, Joel slapped her hard, causing June to get knocked to the ground and you to freeze in your place. You wanted to move. You did… but your body would not make the steps…

Quickly, you realized you didn’t have to.

Tommy was on Joel in a flash, decking him on the jaw with a cracking punch and making Joel stumble back.

“KEEP YOUR GODDAMN HANDS OFF MY WIFE!” Tommy screamed at his brother and you felt your eyes growing at Tommy’s sudden display.

Joel was undeterred, a punch to the jaw being far from the worst he’d felt. Stepping forward again, he spread his arms out wide, taunting him. “There he is! There’s the Tommy Miller I know!” A wide grin was on his face, Joel huffing out a laugh as he whipped the blood from his mouth. “WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN, YOU FUCKING PUSSY!”

Tommy lunged at his brother once more, an anger on his face the likes of which you hadn’t seen before, not on your kind-hearted Tommy… You were starkly reminded here that Tommy Miller was a raider, Tommy killed, Tommy fought, Tommy tortured and you only ever had his word and Lorenzo’s limited understanding that he wasn’t a rapist. How much about him did you really know?

A full on fist fight ensued, the brothers shouting at each other as they did; Tommy yelling at Joel to stay away from his family, Joel largely egging him on, telling him to be a man. Why was he trying to get Tommy to hurt him? Joel was clearly losing, but it was also obvious his full strength was not being utilized. You had seen what Joel could do and were aware of even more. Joel could take on several men without aid. Joel could brutalize without a second thought; he’d done it to you, he’d done worse to Nick.

But this was Tommy, and at the end of the day no matter the horrors, Joel was a father and a brother, and that was the core of who he was. Joel’s psyche snapping was due to his loss of Sarah and his desire to have her back was at the basis of everything he’d done to you, good and bad. Hell, the whole concept of Joel being a raider was based around the need to protect and provide for the only family he had left. The violence enacted had been in the name of Tommy’s survival… until it all became so muddled that he survived only for the violence… and then came you, and suddenly there was something else to live for.

Tommy had the clear lead, straddling Joel and landing blow after blow on Joel’s face and for a moment you thought he might really kill him.

“TOMMY!” You scream, and you don’t know why. You should want Joel dead, you should want your freedom… but you weren’t entirely sure what your freedom looked like now. Once, you thought that freedom was with Tommy, being his wife, loving him, maybe even a few more children. You thought it was with Zach and Lorenzo. All of that was out of the realm of possibility now, and Joel was what you knew, Joel is what you had, and Joel was the main reason you had been able to tread water thus far. Joel kept your head above water. “TOMMY STOP!”

He was not listening, you look at June for her to say something… but it looks like she wants Tommy to kill him too. You weren’t sure if Tommy would or could kill Joel, but for every punch Joel got in Tommy got two and you didn’t want Joel to show his whole brute force either. You didn’t want either one dead.

You rush over to where the men fought, June telling you to stay out of it, and try to get in between them but Tommy shoves you away and you fall back. Joel takes the advantage of the distraction and uses his legs to roll Tommy and climb on top to rain down punches although significantly less strong. “YOU DON’T TOUCH HER!” 

Eventually you are able to pull Joel off Tommy, June running over to help him stand just as you do Joel, both men dripping in blood and sweat, panting heavily.

Tommy points at Joel, still panting. “Stay away from her!”

You can’t help but scoff from behind where Joel guards you with his body. 

That sound makes Tommy turn to you incredulously, all pretense having been obliterated in the bite of the Wyoming freeze-over. “What does that mean?” The harsh tone of voice was new to you, but you were not deterred, frustration with Tommy and all involved in this last year boiling over.

You took a few steps towards the man, bundled up in his signature blue denim jacket. “Really? Now you wanna step up?!” Voice raising, you step up to Tommy despite his tall figure towering over you. “Everything that happened last year and now you want to protect her?”

Tommy’s jaw ticked in annoyance; he tried to keep calm in regular Tommy fashion but the addrenlien from the fight was not helping matters. “I not like that-”

“BUT IT IS!” You shout, shoving him hard on the chest. “WHERE WERE YOU LAST YEAR!” Another shove, Tommy’s composure slipping from him by the second. “WHERE WERE YOU WHEN I WAS BEING RAPED!” Another shove, harder this time and making Tommy stumble back. “HE BRANDED ME! HE BEAT ME! AND YOU JUST WATCHED!”

Tommy’s own anger, the impulse control he had been carefully tucking away since the days of his youth was unleashed on Joel today, and he was not able to reel it back in time to stop himself from shoving you back. “SHE’S PREGNANT!”

When you walked back from the force of his push, you could hear Joel’s footsteps in the crunch of leaves below his feet and you held a hand up. This was between you and Tommy. “Are you fucking kidding me? How long did you wait to jump into be with her? A week? That night? Just because Joel said she’s your wife DOESN’T MEAN SHE-”

“IT’S NOT LIKE THAT!” He shouts back before stuttering on his words. “She- I-”

You laugh. “You what? You love her? YOU SAID YOU LOVED ME!” Your fist flies to your chest, pounding on your heart as you scream.

 Tommy whispers your name, but you turn to June standing helplessly on the sidelines; out of the corner of your eye you see Joel, ever-watching. You speak only to your friend, irrational betrayal flooding your system. She was a victim of this pyschological torture Joel created, but she had Tommy, your Tommy, and you felt… cheated on. Is this how Joel felt when he found out you had been with Tommy? 

“You're having his baby?” You wait until she nods in confirmation, and whatever else her lips had started to spill were cut off by your own words. “He tell you he was going to raise Ellie? When we ran away, he swore to me he’d raise Ellie as his daughter and now he won’t even hold her!” The tears that had began pooling in your eyes spilled over, and your voice weakened. “He was going to be her father, he told me he loved me, but he- oh my god.” The ache in your heart at a new realization made you double over as it began to manifest in a full-body reaction.

“Honey, please, it’s not-”

“You are so FUCKING PATHTIC!” You scream at him. “You had me thinking I was special, the whole time I was here and that whole time you were fucking Maria!” The way June turned to him, it seemed she didn’t know about Maria yet. “You lived with her for months and when I came you left her without another thought-”

“You needed help!”

“And you were never going to come back to her! You have the will power, the commitment of a bug, Tommy! You just join wherever is convenient, whatever is the new, shiny thing and then you just DROP ME!”

A blanket of silence enveloped the four of you, and slowly the strength you had faded. You feel small, used, helpless…

Tommy at least looks remorseful; maybe he is more aware of his nature than you think. “Honey…” He spoke softly, eyes pleading with forgiveness while Joel and June watched all this unfold in a vacuum. “She’s having a baby, I can’t- I gotta man up for her, just as I did when you were pregnant.”

“Why did I have to become pregnant?” You don’t even recognize your own voice as it cracks under the pressure of today and the crushing postpartum depression. “Wasn’t I enough?”

Tommy didn’t respond, he simply stood there with that guilt stricken look that had seared into your mind when Joel had you bent over the table at the beginning of all this. He just watched as you clutched your stomach and cried, a horrific silence allowing your sobs to echo in the open field until Joel’s arms wrapped around you. You jump; everything you had said had been said to Tommy, but Joel had heard it all of course… would he punish you for these feelings? But his touch was gentle around you, ushering you around the house and sitting you on the front porch steps. Tender, Joel attempted to pull you onto his lap but you resided him.

Joel gave you space, and lots of time until your tears subsided enough before he spoke. 

“I want you to be happy here, little one. I’m try’n, I’m trying so fucking hard to make this better. Tommy’s a cheat, but you're the only one that can make me happy, you understand that, don’t you?”

You nodded, believing him. Despite everything, Joel had tried. Joel was loyal to you in a way Tommy never had been. Joel’s hold on you was damn near obsessive. 

“I’m try’n. I’m fuck’n try’n. I want us to be a family, you me and Dolly. I want her to have a happy mom. I know I ain’t… I ain’t been the best. I’ve…”  Joel paused, and then with a breath he admitted his faults. “I’ve been cruel. I hurt you, and I don’t wanna be like that. What can I do? What’s it gonna take to make you happy? To make a good home for our daughter?”

You lift your head off his shoulders, the cool wind blowing on your wet face. “I don’t… I don’t know, Joel. I just feel… alone.” You begin to cry. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry Joel it’s just…”

“You can tell me, little one. It’s okay. I won’t punish you.”

His eyes are deep and pleading, he wanted so much for you to be happy, didn’t he?

“I feel like I have no one! Zach is dead, Lorenzo is dead, almost everyone who was there for me is dead and now June and Tommy have each other and I’m sorry, I know I shouldn’t feel like this because you are my husband but… I feel like Tommy betrayed me, I feel like I have no one!”

Joel waited, allowing you to speak and showed no signs of anger at your words. “You have me”

“Joel…”

He kisses your forehead. “I’m here for you, to protect you, to provide for you and Dolly. I’ll do whatever you want, anything. We can leave, we can go somewhere else, start over, whatever you need, whatever it takes for our family.”

Joel was offering to start over, start a new life… is that what you wanted?

“Can I… Can I go on a walk? Think about it?”

Joel nodded briskly, helping you stand and giving you his flannel for warmth. You knew Joel would have one of his men trailing you but for the most part you took the time to be alone. No baby, no Joel, no June, no Tommy. Just you.

What did you need to be happy? Leaving Joel wasn’t an option… you had to make the best of what you had. Joel was right. Ellie deserved a happy home. Ellie deserved a happy family, including her aunt and uncle and little cousin. But Ellie also deserved safety. She deserved a sense of normalcy in her childhood. How do you provide that? 

You sit at the edge of a field, the single grave that held the bodies of Zach, Lorenzo, Jack and Maura was decorated with one headstone. Joel had done this for you as an act of mercy.

“I don’t know what to do.” You sob as you sit down on the grass. “I need help.” You pray for guidance, for some voice of your family to help you. Joel was giving you freedom, choices… you needed to take advantage of that.

It wasn’t until you felt your breasts swelling, telling you it was time to feed your daughter that you walked back up to the house. A golden shadow had been cast by the setting sun, breeze playing in the golden field Joel had been working on harvesting. As you came up over the small hill, you see him there on the tractor he had fixed up with Ellie on his lap. She was laughing… her first laugh. 

You fight the urge to run over, just watching your husband play with your daughter, a happy, healthy little baby despite it all. Joel was right; she was strong.

Joel turns to you when your dress rustles in the fields of gold, grinning wildly as he proudly announces- “She can laugh now!”

You return his smile with the same pride. “She’s such a good baby…” And she was. She really was. 

He continued tickling Ellie for a little just to hear that laugh a little longer before looking back to you more seriously. He still looked happy; he always looked happy around her, but there was still that worry in his eyes. “Did you have a good walk?” Joel asked sincerely.

“I did.” You move to sit on the tractor with him, resting your head on his shoulder. “I want to do this with you, Joel. I want our family, but there’s gotta be changes.”

Joel nodded vigorously, eager to do what it took to keep you. He always looked so young in these moments. “What is it, baby? I do anything.”

With a deep breath, the crisp air filled your lungs, and you exhaled your conditions. “First, I am free to go wherever and whenever I like, so is June, so is Tommy as long as you don’t leave leave.”

Readily, he agreed.

You lift your head up off his warmth to allow yourself to look him in the eye. This was the most important. “Second, you cannot hurt our family. I don’t care what June says to you, you can’t hurt her, Tommy, me-”

“I wouldn’t hurt you-”

“YOU HUNG ME THREE MONTHS AGO!”

That shut Joel up, and he gave a little nod. “Okay. I’ll stop.”

“Joel, this is the most important part-”

“I wouldn’t hurt Dolly”

“I’m not saying you would. But you can’t threaten or imply you will to manipulate me, and I need you to understand” You lean in close “I’m aware I can’t kill you. I’m aware you are stronger than me, but I swear to god, you harm my daughter and I will die defending her.”

To your surprise, Joel smiled. “That’s why I love you.”

And to your surprise, you smiled back. “Third. She will not grow up in a house full of strange men. Unacceptable. Considering that half of them were willing to rape me when I was barely out of my teens, that is asking for a problem.” Lorenzo had brought this up to you months ago, and it had been on your mind. Lorenzo died trying to protect you and Ellie, his input would not be in vain.

He seemed to consider this point. “I agree.”

“She needs a stable environment. June and Tommy” You take in a deep breath, still dealing with the mind fuck that the man you had loved was having a child with your best friend. “They’ll be having her cousin, and I know some of the men have children and wives… I want… something else. A community.”

His face falters just a bit but not in anger or disappointment, more frustration with himself. “We can’t go to Jackson… Marie won’t-”

“Not that” You shake your head. “Can we maybe… build houses around this one?”

Joel considers for a while. “There’s a town bout 30 miles north that was abandoned… had a small population pre outbreak, maybe 500 or someth’n. What if we moved there? Started a little town?”

You light up at that. “I would love that!”

“Gonna take a lot of work, little one. Organizing it all. I can’t take on all that, I still gotta do what I do…”

“I’ll take it on! I’ll set up everything, get a school going, a clinic, start farming, everything!” You were elated, bouncing in the seat as you thought of all you wanted to do. You’d talk to the women, learn their skills and abilities, their needs… Most importantly, provide for Ellie and the other children, including your incoming niece or nephew.

“I bet you will, little one.” Joel smiled fondly at you. “Gonna do so go. Is that it? Is that everything?”

You deflate just a bit…there was one more thing you wanted… but you weren’t sure he’d give it to you.

“There is… one more thing.”

“Anything, pequena, anything.”

You give him your softest, widest eye’d ‘please Joel’ look and ask. “I want her to be called Ellie.”

Joel hesitated. “Sweetheart, really? Is it that important to you?”

You nod. “It is, Joel.”

You watch as he purses his lips, moving his mouth in thought before he nodded. “Okay. Ellie.” Joel looked down at Ellie who had begun to fuss, climbing off the tractor and holding his hand to help you. It was time to feed her and put her down for a nap, then begin the evening routine. “Our Ellie June.”

**************

I THIIIIIIIINK 2 chapters left?

How do we feel about Tommy? I mean, it's good he's finally stepping up but little one had a point. Wasnt she enough? This is a lesson y'all. If he wanted to, he would.

How do we feel about June? Personally, I think she'd doing what she can under her circumstances.

And Joel... suddenly so soft again.....

@pimosworld @rubyfruitjungle @moriartyyouwhore @k-ra @the-fox-den @jenna-ortega @alwaysmicado @lunar-ghoulie @ladynightingale @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @maura-honey @fandxmslxt69 @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @miraclesabound @koshkaj-blog

#Joel Miller #Joel Miller smut #tw rape #dub con #non con #dark joel miller #romana after dark #dark!Joel #the last of us hbo #joel miller fic #joel miller reader #joel miller reade smut #dark joel miller reader #tommy miller fem reader #tommy miller smut #tommy miller fem!reader #the wrong way fic #the wrong way series #tommy miller

[2thestars-andbeyond]

The Fire That Burns Within Part 2

Warnings: Dirty thoughts. I think that’s it.

That night Y/n tried everything in her power to get rid of the hand print that the Heir had left on her skin. As she had been trained very little with using her healing powers, she wasn’t able to heal it. In fact, she swore it looked even more noticeable.. With a sigh she decides to take a warm bath and call it a night. 

The next morning, Y/n woke up and slipped out of her silk pajamas and into a simple pair of pants and a high turtle neck sweater. She decided that the high neck of the sweater would hep conceal the mark. As long as she didn’t move her head to the left too far.. 

As Y/n walked down stairs and into the dinning room she noticed that the only seat open was beside Azriel. As she put food on her plate she tired her best not to move her head too much, knowing that if anyone would notice the mark it would be the Spy Master. Feyre sat in front of her and Nyx was fussing in her arms. 

“I can take him so you can eat.” Y/n tells her sister. As Nyx is handed to y/n, he stops fussing and just stares at her. “Whats the matter little guy?” She asks him rubbing the bridge of his nose. “You like that, huh?” Nyx coos and Feyre lets out a relieved sigh. 

“Finally!” Cries Cassian.”You shoulda headed him to y/n days ago.” He proclaims as he stuffs his mouth with a muffin. Nesta slaps him on the shoulder.

“Y/n his always been good with children. She’s like a baby whisperer or something.” Smiles Nesta. 

Nyx’s little baby hands moved faster than y/n could move and before she knew it, he grabbed the neck of her sweater and pulled it down. There were gasps heard all around the table Someone drops their fork and it hits their plate loudly. Y/n tries to hide it again, but the damage is already done. Azriel shoots out of his chair.

“I will kill him.” he growls.

“Not before I do” Says Feyre as she stands too.

Cassian stands from his chair ready to follow his brother and High Lady. “Wait, who are we killing?” he asks. 

“Eris” Rhys, Azriel and Feyre say at the same time.

“I am sure that there is an explanation for the mark on her.” reasons Lucien.

“I don’t need an explanation.”  Az steps away from the table and towards the balcony as if he plans on flying off somewhere. 

Rhysand, as if reading Azriels mind, grabs his forearm stopping him. “Let’s figure out what happened before you go off and start a war with Autumn.” 

“Did he hurt you in any other way?” Questions Nesta almost bending her fork in two.

“What? No! Everything was consensual. ” Explains Y/n still rubbing the print.

“Then why the hell is there a burn mark in the shape of a hand print on your neck?” It was Mor’s turn to growl. 

“What do you mean by everything?” pushes Feyre.

“I– We .. kissed” Y/n says as the others look at her shocked. “And things got a little bit heated.. Literally.” she finishes. 

“You kissed him?” Mor asked. Y/n nods. “That’s not entirely what I meant when   i  hinted on you getting laid, Y/n” 

“I couldn’t help myself. It’s like I was put under some type of spell or something. Is that an Autumn Court thing?” Y/n turns to Lucien. He shakes his head no and narrows his eyes. “Maybe it was the wine, then. Look, it’s not like I planned on making out with Night Courts arch nemesis!” Yells y/n. “Hes really not as bad as everyone says anyway. He was sweet and charming. Geez, I don’t really even know him” she mumbles.

“That’s what he wants you the think. Before you know it you're left for dead in the forest somewhere.”

“Look Mor I–” Y/n starts

Mor puts her hand in the air singling her to stop talking, “I’m not mad Y/n, you are capable of making your own decisions. But when I tell you this is a bad decision, please believe me.”

“I’ve always heard that Autumn court males have fire in their veins, but this..” Feyre starts 

Y/n places her hand on the mark covering it. It still feels warm. 

“It doesn't hurt. And he didn’t mean to.. He lost control, I guess” 

“First a burn.. “ Scoffs Azriel “what next?” 

“I don’t think Eris meant to hurt me.”

“Eris isn’t one to lose control. He takes pride in being in control of his powers.“ says Lucien.

Y/n shrugs. “Like I said. He didn’t hurt me. Things just got heated.” 

“I will make sure he never comes near you again.” Azriel whispers dangerously. It sends a shiver through Y/n.

“You don’t have to do that Azriel. I am fine. It will heal.”

“Shouldn’t it be healed?” Elain muses. “I mean, you do have healing powers, and heal faster than any of us.”

“I tired to heal it myself, but– nothing worked.” Y/n confesses. 

Rhysand gives Feyre a concerned look and y/n knows they are having a conversation using their daemati powers. 

“I am going to Autumn to get answers from Eris himself.” Says Azriel.

“That will not be necessary, I will send a message to him myself.” Rhysand tell him and turns to head for his office. Feyre takes Nyx and follows her mate.   

Rhysand sends the massage to the Heir asking him to come to an urgent meeting that night. Eris expects. Azriel doesn’t leave Y/n side as he vowed to Rhysand to protect her at all costs. As Eris enters the room, Y/n heart skips a beat and she grabs her neck. Swallowing hard she turns her gaze to the carpeted floor at her feet. Azriel places his hand on her knee is squeezes, sending a soft reassuring smile her way. Eris’ nostrils flare as he watches the exchange between them.

“Eris,” Rhysand brings him form his thoughts, “thanks for joining us.”

“What is the meaning for this urgent meeting? I was just here last night”

“That’s exactly why you are here.” Feyre tells him and he gives her a confused look. 

“Why did you burn Y/n?” snarls Azriels. 

Eris smirks at him. “Jealous are we?” 

Azriel shoots towards Eris faster than lighting and grabs him by the neck throwing him into the bookcase behind him. “You will tell me why you hurt her or I  will force it out of you.” He tells him. 

“Azriel, please. I told you he did not hurt me. Let him go” Azriel squeezes his neck tighter. 

“Azriel, let him go” Feyre says calmly. Azriel lets go of the Heirs neck and backs aways from him, his shadows surrounding him as he moves. Eris locks eyes with Y/N and Azriel gives Eris a look that could kill. A shadow comes up to Azriel’s ear as if whispering something to it’s owner. His eyes dart between Eris and Y/n, he bats the shadow away and storms out of the room. 

“I did not mean to harm Y/n. I would never” states Eris still trying to catch his breath from almost being chocked out by Az. Mor scoffs at his words.

“It was but an accident. I– I do not know what came over me last night. It is not like me to lose control like that.” He says to Y/n,walking over to her and taking her hands in his slowly scared to hurt her again. 

Y/n squeezes his hands. Eris loses himself in her hazel eyes again and notices the red tint of her cheeks. Someone clears their throat. Rhysand 

 “I’m not sure what you are up to Eris, but it needs to stop. Now. First you ask for Nesta’s hand in marriage and now this. What is your fascination with the sisters?” 

“I guess the same as your Shadow Singer.” Spits Eris. “It started with his sick obsession with my brothers mate. And when she finally decides to acknowledge their bond, he moves on to mine.” Eris stiffens as he realizes what he had just confessed. Y/n places a hand over her mouth as she processes to words that she just heard. Mine. 

“Yours? Your what?” Asks Y/n. 

“You are my mate, Y/n. I knew the moment I laid eyes on you last night. I did not plan to tell you this way–”

Mate. Mate. Y/n repeats in her mind over and over again. Everyone is silent, not sure what to do or say. There is no way this could be happening. Mated to her families enemy. He had hurt her sister and done horrible things to Mor. 

Breathing hard Y/n steps back, away from Eris, her back hitting Azriel’s chest. She hadn't noticed he had re entered the room. “I– I need some air, excuse me.” Eris goes to follow her but Az stops him. 

“Back off Illyrian bastard, rather any of you like it or not, she is mine. We will be linked together forever.” Eris snarls at Azriel. 

Azriel goes to attack him again but this time, flames shoot from Eris’ palms. Everyone goes into defense mode. 

“Eris, I understand what you are feeling right now, but you can’t do this. You would start a war. And how would father react if he finds out about your mate like this?” Lucien tells his brother. 

“I don’t give a damn. I will start wars and win them for her. I will burn every court to the ground in her name if I need to. She is mine. And I will have her.” 

“You are not taking her anywhere.” spits Azriel. 

“Here’s an idea Shadow Singer, why don't you go find your own mate instead of trying to steal others.” Azriel’s eyes narrow at his words, but he recoils at Rhysands command in his mind. “Stand down, you do not understand what he is feeling right now.”

“And what if she doesn’t want the bond?” asks Feyre.

Eris takes a deep breath and his growing flames disappear. “Y/n had a really hard time adjusting to life as Fae. What makes you think that she would expect you so fast? Look at Elain and Lucien. It took Elain some time to expect your brother as her mate. Y/n is not yours. You do not own her” says Nesta. 

“That may not be how it is here in your court, but in Autumn.. It is different. And as future High Lord, I will do everything in my power to get her by my side.” Eris answers with a voice laced with venom. Y/n enters the room again standing beside Az.

“Have you not learned anything from the way we watched Father treat Mother all these years? We have both seen the same marks put on her. Brother, let her have a choice! Do not be like him. Don’t stoop to his level. You are better than him Eris!” Lucien yells at Eris. 

Y/n sends a horrified look towards her youngest sister. She had heard stories of Beron Vanserra, but had never met him. 

“Those marks were different! They were made out of hatred. That mark is because I lost control due to the mating bond. Out of lust!” shouts Eris. Y/n thinks back to the night before. That kiss they shared, how good it felt– she would have let him take her right there on that balcony had it not been for him putting that mark on her. She would have let him bend her over the railing while his too warm lips explored her body. She wonders if other parts of him are as warm too.. But she can’t go with a male she doesn’t know. 

“I don’t want to go.” says Y/n tears in her eyes. “I’ve heard stories of your court. Of your father.. Of you. I– I don’t want to go. Last night was a mistake.” she holds onto Azriel’s arm. 

“The Mother doesn’t make mistakes when it comes to mates. You are my equal. You will come with me, to my court.” Eris takes a step toward Y/n with nothing but anger in his eyes. Az places an arm around her. Y/n buries her face into Az’s chest. Eris goes to grab Y/n from Azriel, but Az moves her behind him and they stand almost nose to nose glaring at each other. If looks could kill they would both drop dead.

“How dare you come between a male and his mate!” growls Eris.

“I think you should leave.” Rhysand tells Eris his voice is dark. Cassian stands beside Azriel with a sword drawn. 

 Eris storms out and Y/n lets out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. Y/n cant ignore the tugging feeling in her chest, it almost hurts as if something is trying to pull her towards him. She can’t help but feel guilty for not going with him, but she didn’t even know him. And the stories, not the mention the print he had left on her. What else was this male capable of? She wasn’t sure she wanted to know. Y/n knows he is a good male. Behind the facade he puts on she knows there is male that is capable of great things. She just couldn’t bring herself to go to a court she knows nothing about. 

But The Autumn Heir will haunt her thoughts and dreams until she is his.

#acotar x reader #eris vanserra x reader #eris vanserra #eris vanserra x oc #azriel x reader #azriel x female!reader #azriel x you #acotar fanfiction #a court of thorns and roses #acotar x oc #acotar x you #acotar #lucien vanserra #rhysand #feyre #x OC #reader

[popcorn-plots]

Febuwhump day 3: "Bite down on this."

Title: Holmes and Watson

Words: 687 (finally, something that's not a drabble)

Summary: Sherlo-- Stephen gets injured on a casemission. WatsWong to the rescue.

~~~

Stephen groaned as he clutched his shoulder. It was supposed to be an easy fight after tracking down a rogue sorcerer through London. Technically, Stephen wasn’t even supposed to be here – it was below his paygrade, according to Master Gremm of the London Sanctum. But Stephen had been stuck doing paperwork of all things for the past week and he wanted to get out.

Well, compared to bleeding out in a random alleyway after underestimating his assailant and paperwork, Stephen probably would have stayed at home. In his defense, however, he didn’t expect that the rogue would pull out an enchanted pistol and shoot him point blank. He was also told that the rogue was barely an Apprentice when they turned on the Order, meaning that they wouldn’t have the knowledge or the skills to enchant anything, let alone a weapon. Which meant that the rogue was working with another sorcerer.

To make matters worse, Stephen was pretty sure his ankle was broken and his shoulder (the same one the rogue had shot because fuck his life) was dislocated. He had taken a hard fall into a dumpster an hour ago and walking/running had been a bitch since. He both looked (probably), smelt, and felt like utter shit.

The rogue, watching from the side, kicked Stephen in the side for good measure, eliciting a groan from him, and vanished. Stephen felt like he should give chase, cast a spell or two, but he hadn’t slept properly in a week and his cracked ribs were still healing from the last fight. So no, he wasn’t giving chase.

Stephen laid there for a second, feeling warm blood pooling around him, cooling in between his fingers. Oh, right. It had been a clean shot, the bullet went straight through his shoulder. From the fact that he wasn’t dead yet, Stephen figured it hadn't hit anything vital. Still. Another reason he wasn’t chasing the rogue, he was hemorrhaging and possibly going into shock.

Stephen watched as his non-injured arm, soaked in blood, flailed about for a bit before falling back to his shoulder. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Stephen knew he had cast an SOS spell of sorts. There was a whooshing sound and Wong was kneeling beside him.

“Stephen…”

“Dislocated shoulder, broken ankle. Clean shot, there’s an exit wound.” Stephen managed to choke out. The pain wasn’t horrible, per say, but it wasn’t a walk in the park, either. “You gotta relocate the shoulder and set my ankle before you can move me.” Stephen breathed out.

Wong nodded. From his personal pocket dimension, Wong pulled out a spare belt. “Here, bite down on this.”

Stephen complied. The belt was rough and didn’t taste very good, but he knew he’d be grateful for it in a few seconds.

Wong gently removed Stephen’s blood-soaked hand and cast a simple spell to staunch the bleeding until they could get back to Kamar-Taj. Finally, Wong grabbed Stephen’s injured arm and, ignoring Stephen’s grunt of pain, pulled it up and rotated it.

Without warning, Wong shoved the joint back into its socket. Stephen’s scream was muffled by the belt he had bitten into. Thank the Vishanti for Wong’s gift of foresight.

Next was the ankle. Wong managed to set the bone without any complications, but it still hurt like a bitch.

When it was over, Stephen ripped the belt out and threw it to the side. “That hurt.” He groaned.

Wong stared at him as if saying, ‘no shit’. Stephen rolled his eyes and forced himself into a seated position. Wong, despite Stephen’s protests, picked him up bridal style and carried him through a portal into Kamar-Taj’s infirmary. Stephen probably wouldn’t be able to live that down, but he was secretly glad he didn’t have to walk.

They caught the rogue just a few days later, working with a Kamar-Taj insider. The insider was punished and the rogue locked up. Stephen couldn’t do anything (not that he would if given the choice, Hippocratic Oath and all) while he was wobbling around on crutches, but he could put his middle finger to good use.

Ao3

#febuwhump 2024 #febuwhump day 3 #febuwhump #stephen strange #wong #hurt Stephen Strange #bullet wounds #bleeding out #dislocated joints

[imaginesfordifferentfandoms]

You Were My Only Hope

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Angstember Prompt - “For what it’s worth, I never gave up on you."

You had been on your own for a long time now, floating through the galaxy and never staying in one place long enough for anybody to know you, hiding your identity and shutting yourself off from the Force completely whilst trying to push through each lonely day without focusing on the emptiness around you.

Obi-Wan had long since taken off, exiling himself to Tatooine to look after the boy, Anakin’s boy. Some days you almost caved and went to the planet but you weren’t quite sure either you or Obi-Wan were prepared to face your past life just yet. The two of you weren’t the same people you had been all those years ago, Anakin’s downfall and death had taken something from both of you that hadn’t yet been replaced.

You had loved Anakin, had loved him more dearly than anything else. You had been praised for how well you followed the Jedi Code but it wasn’t true, for Anakin Skywalker you broke the Jedi Code everyday even if he never knew. You had known he had a relationship with Padmé, though you hadn’t quite known the extent of it, had no idea they were married, but it didn’t stop you from loving him.

Even though Anakin didn’t love you as you loved him, it didn’t mean he didn’t love you in his own way. The two of you had grown up alongside each other in the Temple, you were Anakin’s first and best friend. Whilst Obi-Wan wasn’t actually your Master, he had been in every sense of the word other than officially. You had spent more time training with him and Anakin than you had your own Master and if the Jedi allowed a Master to take on more than one Padawan you knew Obi-Wan would have happily accepted you as his own alongside Anakin. Over the years you became everything to each other, something closer than friends and somehow more intimate than lovers, there hadn’t been anything the two of you didn’t share with each other, at least you’d thought there were no secrets between you right up until Anakin’s fall.

Seeing the destruction he had caused, the death of Padmé, leaving the bodies of children behind in the Temple, helping with the murder of Jedi across the galaxy and making sure that the few who had escaped had bounties on their heads forever, turned your stomach. You knew that if you had had the chance all those years ago you would have done anything to change it, would have given up everything so long as Anakin kept his light.

There was nothing you could do though, Anakin was dead, Obi-Wan had pulled you aside shortly after Padmé had given birth to the children and tearfully told you what had happened on Mustafar, told you that Anakin was gone. The two of you held each other, knowing that nothing would be the same again and you hadn’t stopped the tears that poured from your eyes, soaking the cloak Obi-Wan wore.

From that day on you had been lost, jumping from one planet to the other and it was only when you came across a group of Inquisitors that you were glad you had been running, glad you had shut yourself off from the Force. You had hidden yourself in the shadows, easily blending in with the sketchy figures around you as one of the Inquisitors Force choked a Jedi they had found. You knew this was common, any Jedi found was to be killed, the Empire wouldn’t rest until they were. You had grown numb to it, had seen it happen too many times, in the early years you had wanted to react, wanted to help the Jedi but you knew that meant exposing yourself and you couldn’t do it.

“Where is Y/F/N Y/L/N?” One of the Inquisitors snarled and you felt your eyes go wide and forced yourself to swallow against the sudden lump in your throat.

You knew the Empire was looking for Obi-Wan for whatever reason, over the years you had heard whispers of his name but nobody had found where he was yet, only a few people knew that information and none of you would ever betray Obi-Wan.

The question was, why were they looking for you?

Ever since you’d overheard that conversation you had cut down your time spent on a single planet, making sure to keep your face covered whenever you had to be surrounded by people and kept your head down. You had dodged many Inquisitors in the past few months and again the urge to go to Obi-Wan for help was strong, the urge to reconnect with the Force and call out to Obi-Wan but you never did.

Instead you ran and you hid and you didn’t talk to anybody that wasn’t necessary. You were good but there was only so much you could do without the Force to help you, for it to warn you when danger was near. It didn’t surprise you nearly as much as it should have when you rounded a corner and saw your little shack in the middle of nowhere surrounded by Inquisitors, a ship not too far away.

Without your own lightsaber it really wasn’t a fair fight and it wasn’t long before you were being marched into the ship, a collar around your throat to cut you off from the Force despite you having done that yourself many years ago.

You didn’t say anything though, just let them shove along, rolling your eyes as they gloated about catching you before you were being pushed into a small, dark room. The door shut behind you and you were glad to be separated from the troopers and Inquisitors, if only to be rid of their constant taunting that was nothing more than an annoyance.

You had no idea where you were being taken, you could feel the ship moving and you could feel it making the shift to hyperspace. You spent the journey sitting on the floor, legs crossed as you let your mind wander. Even as a Padawan you had struggled to mediate, your Master hadn’t had the patience to teach you after repeated failures but Obi-Wan was more than happy to sit opposite you and guide you through it no matter how long it took. Mediating without being surrounded by the Force felt pointless but you still tried, if only to pass the time.

At some point your peace was disturbed as the door opened and you opened one eye to see a female Inquisitor enter the room alone. You regarded her for a second longer before letting your eye fall shut again, not giving her a reaction. She waited for the door to shut before she spoke.

“Anakin Skywalker has been waiting a very long time for you.” She told you and you couldn’t hide your reaction.

Your eyes shot open, staring openly at the woman in front of you in shock as your back stiffened with her words.

“What did you just say?” You asked, voice low and cold.

“You heard m-” She started to say but cut herself off, staring back at you for a moment before letting out a laugh, one that showed just how much she enjoyed having some sort of power over you as a smirk spread across her face. “You don’t know.”

“Know what? What do you know of Anakin?” You asked, not having pieced together what she knew.

“You don’t know,” She repeated, glee written on her face as she continued, “You don’t know what became of him.”

“He died.” You said through gritted teeth, annoyed at whatever tactic she was playing.

“Oh no, Y/N. Anakin Skywalker didn’t die, Anakin Skywalker is Darth Vader.”

Your blood ran cold at her words, your head already shaking in disbelief because that was impossible. You hadn’t had the pleasure of meeting Vader but when one travelled the galaxy as much as you did you heard the stories. There was no way that was Anakin, no way.

“You really didn’t know.” She murmured, pulling you out of your thoughts and glaring at the smirk that was still on her face. “I guess you are right, your sweet Anakin Skywalker is long gone, Darth Vader is who remains.”

With those words she turned to leave the room, leaving you with that bombshell as you tried to sort your thoughts out. There was no way Obi-Wan knew, he would have told you. He, like you, believed Anakin had died on Mustafar but clearly he had received help, something had happened after Obi-Wan left with Padmé.

Even knowing what you knew about Vader you had to believe that Anakin was still in there somewhere, buried deep down under Darkness. Had you known he was still alive you wouldn’t have wasted years running around the galaxy, you would have done anything you could to bring him back to you.

For the first time since you had shut yourself off from it you wished you could connect with the Force.

It wasn’t long after that you felt the ship land, the doors to your cell were sliding open and two Inquisitors flanked by a handful of troopers were revealed. One of the Inquisitors wrapped their hand around your arm and dragged you along, the other gripping your other arm once you were close to him. You let them lead you through the ship and it took a good few minutes before you arrived in front of two heavy looking doors.

Upon seeing you and the Inquisitors, as well as the troopers who had followed you, the trooper standing guard opened the doors and you were shoved forward. You kept a bored look on your face but it was quickly replaced by a sad look as you saw Darth Vader standing in the room.

That couldn’t be Anakin and yet even without the Force to guide you, you had a feeling in the pit of your stomach, one that turned you cold, that the Inquisitor hadn’t been lying.  

“Leave us.” Vader ordered, his voice modified through the suit, sounding nothing like Anakin.

The Inquisitors and troopers left the room and the door fell shut behind them leaving you alone with Vader. You stood tall, a neutral look masking the pain and sadness you felt, staring into the helmet of Darth Vader.

“You have been difficult to find.” He told you and you couldn’t help but smirk, you had only become aware of the fact that the Empire was after you a few months ago, you wondered just how long you’d had a bounty on your head. “I have you now and you will tell me where Kenobi is hiding.”

You struggled to keep your mask in place, struggled not to let it show how painful it was hearing the hate filter through the mask. How had things fallen apart so badly, how had Anakin Skywalker, the person who had never failed to give you hope all throughout the clone wars, the person who you only ever saw the best in, fallen so hard? How could that boy who looked up to Obi-Wan, who had loved him dearly, not even bring himself to say his name? Only able to spit it out like it was poison.

Where had it all gone wrong?

“It’s really you then isn’t it?” You asked him, despite your neutral face your voice betrayed you, quivering slightly before you forced yourself to take a breath. “I didn’t want to believe her when she said you were Anakin but it’s you isn’t it?”

“Don’t use that name!” He spat, one arm raised with a clenched fist and you found yourself  a few feet in the air, Vader cutting off your breath as he Forced choked you.

It was child's play, you could handle being Forced choked, Anakin knew it as well as you did. You had been through worse during the years of the Clone Wars, suffered worse things than a choking. The Clone Wars had been tough, you’d been kidnapped more times than you could count, tortured even more, Anakin had been by your side throughout it all, you both knew this was nothing.

“Skywalker was weak, he was useless.” Vader said as he stopped choking you and you just about stayed upright as you were dropped to the floor.

“Anakin was never weak and he was far from useless. He was the bravest person I have ever met, he inspired loyalty, he was a hero.” You said, stressing the last word as you gave Vader a look of distaste. “Can you say the same about yourself?”

“You abandoned him, left him to die. Don’t speak to me about loyalty.” Vader snarled and even without the Force you could feel his anger, his pain and frustration.

You had to believe there was more than that there though, that there was some light no matter how small and dim, there had to be.

Anakin couldn’t just be gone.

For years you had lived thinking he had died, alone and in pain, left behind by Obi-Wan. You hadn’t blamed Obi-Wan, you had had years to dwell on it, years to run it through your head and knew full well that if you were in the man's shoes you wouldn’t have been able to kill Anakin either.

Even now as you stood before the darkest and most twisted version of Anakin, knew of all the pain and horror he had inflicted on the galaxy, even now you knew full well if you had the chance you wouldn’t be able to kill him.

You could practically see Master Yoda in your mind, shaking his head in disappointment as he spoke about attachments.

“Abandoned you?” You asked, shaking your own head as you stared at him in disbelief. “I thought you were dead. If I had known, if I had even had an inkling that you were alive, believe me I would have found you myself. I would have done everything I could to break through all the darkness surrounding you.”

“You expected me to believe that?” He scoffed and you glared at him. It was hard talking to him like this, not just because of the anger and the hatred but because of the helmet. Anakin had always been so expressive, his every emotion played out on his face but now the man hid behind the helmet.

“You know I’m not lying.” You told him and he remained silent for a few moments.

“There was a place for you at my side, there still is a place for you.” He told you suddenly, voice quiet but firm and you felt your eyes widen, there was no way he thought you would ever turn to the Dark Side but then again you had once believed he would never fall. “All you have to do is tell me where Kenobi is.”

“You know I would never betray Obi-Wan, Anakin.” You told him and watched as he took a step closer to you, towering over you but you forced yourself to meet the helmet.

“I am not Anakin.” He told you, anger clear in his tone and you couldn’t help the sad smile that pulled at your lips.

“You will always be Anakin Skywalker to me.” You said softly before you were slammed into a wall by the Force, Vader doing nothing more than pinning you against it. “And for what it’s worth, I never gave up on you. No matter how lost you are, no matter how far you stray from everything you once believed in, I never gave up on you, not when I saw what had become of the Padawans, not when the order was given for the Clones to kill us. I still believe in Anakin Skywalker.”

Vader stayed silent, the only sound in the room was that of his breathing, heavy through the helmet. You knew you were pushing it, knew this was a dangerous game but you didn’t care, you had to know if Anakin was still there, still believed in the man you had once known, the man you had spent every day loving.

“You are loyal to a dead man.” He told you finally and you felt your eyes close, desperately trying to think of a way to push through the Darkness. “It makes you weak.”

“Lucky for me then because the man I believe in isn’t dead, I know it. The man who held me when my Master was killed, the man who snuck me out of the Temple in the middle of the night because I wanted to see the celebrations, the man who took more beatings and hits than he needed to just so I didn’t get hurt, the man who helped me see the Light when everything seemed so dark during the war. That is the man I believe in and that is the man I know to be alive, to be within you no matter how deeply you have tried to bury him.” You told him, voice shaking and tears filling your eyes but you forced them back, not letting them fall.

This wasn’t about you, this was about bringing Anakin back.

“You can’t tell me this is the life you wanted Anakin. You’re nothing more than Palpatine’s weapon, he ripped everything from you; Padmé, your child, Obi-Wan and me. And for what, Anakin? What did you get out of it that was worth losing everyone?” You keep your voice soft, watching as his fist clenched at his side and you wished so badly you could see his face.

“None of that matters now.” Vader said after a moment of silence and you hated how you couldn’t hear his real voice, how his emotions were hidden through the helmet, robotic and stoic and not giving away anything. “The man you knew is gone, accept it and give up your weak and foolish hope of his return.”

You shook your head, refusing to do as he said. No matter what happened on this ship, even if he killed you, you would die knowing that Anakin was still in there, that one day, maybe not any time soon, Anakin would break through the Darkness surrounding him. Maybe he would break through himself, maybe he would eventually find Obi-Wan hidden away on Tatooine and Obi-Wan would be the one to break through. It didn’t matter how it happened, all that mattered was that you truly believed it would.

“I will never give up hope for Anakin Skywalker.” You told him, standing straighter and looking at the helmet, his anger and annoyance clear even without the Force helping up and the helmet covering him.

“Enough.” He said, using the Force to lift you off the ground again back still pressed against the wall. “I have grown tired of listening to you talk about a dead man, your pathetic attachment to him makes you weak. You could have joined me, Y/N, you could have joined me. Instead you keep your loyalties to a man long dead and a man who will die at my hands.”

Even though you’d been through worse pain, worse torture, suddenly this felt like the most painful thing you had ever experience, the worst kind of pain imaginable, a type of pain that made you cold and empty inside. There was no fear but something shifted around the two of you and you could practically see the thick Darkness clinging to Anakin.

You knew he was so far into it, knew the chances of you leaving this alive were slim to none and yet somehow you weren’t scared. The thing you felt most was your absolute heartbreak as you faced what had become of the man you loved but you knew he’d come back.

He had to.

“You have tested my patience long enough,” He snarled, stepping closer until there was no distance between you. “Now, you will tell me where Kenobi is!”

As he spoke he raised his hand, stopping you from taking breaths and you could feel his phantom grip tightening on you with each second. You stared at him, stared into the helmet that hid his face from you and knew you were going to die but you were not going to die betraying Obi-Wan or Anakin’s children.

“Anakin,” You choked out, voice a broken whisper as you felt yourself getting lightheaded, “I know you’re still in there, I know you can hear me even if you’re not ready to right now.” It was hard to speak, throat closed up and his grip only got tighter with your words. “I know this isn’t you, it can’t be, not after everything. You will find your way back one day, I know you will and you have to know, even with whatever happens today, I never gave up on you.” Your vision was going bleary as you forced yourself to stay conscious. “I love you, Anakin Skywalker, always have, always believed in you.”

Your words were barely audible at the end, his grip on your throat too tight to breath by now and the last thing you saw before your vision blacked out was the helmet of Vader, emotionless and betraying nothing as you choked out something unintelligible before letting your eyes fall closed.

Vader let go of you, let your body fall to the ground. He walked away, desperately trying to ignore the feeling deep inside of him, buried under a mountain of Darkness, that felt guilty, felt heartbroken and angry. Your final words were a declaration of love, a promise that you had always believed in him.

He stormed out of the room, fists clenched at his side as he forced down that part of him, the part that was Anakin Skywalker, no matter how much he denied it. You had been right, not that he would ever admit it but Anakin Skywalker had always been there, a weakness to Vader. He had thought he had destroyed every bit of Anakin Skywalker, thought he had rid himself of such a weakness but then you had come along and reignited the tiny bit of Light in him that he had never been able to kill.

But now you were dead and there was nobody left in the whole galaxy that believed in him. You were dead by his hands and even though your dying words would never leave Vader’s mind, no matter how much he tried to forget them, there was no hope left in the galaxy for him.

That hope had lived and died with you.

________

Darth Vader Taglist /

@heyitsaloy​, @f-sant​

#anakin skywalker x reader #darth vader x reader #anakin skywalker imagine #darth vader imagine #anakin skywalker imagines #darth vader imagines #anakin skywalker #darth vader #star wars #star wars prequels #star wars prequels x reader #star wars x reader #star wars imagines #star wars imagine

[bluegekk0]

I’m sorry to bring this up if it makes you feel unoriginal but I love how many troupe headcanons we share

-Divine is the costume designer

-Brumm has feelings for the master

-Grimm cannot cook to save his life (Brumm, a seasoned chef, has actually banned him from the kitchen on account of him burning one too many recipes) and only knows how to make tea

It’s just nice to know I’m not the only one with these thought processes lol

Though it does make me curious. What species of bugs do you headcanon Brumm and Divine to be, and where would they be from if this was our Earth? Also, do Divine and Leg Eater still get together in this AU, and if so, does Leg Eater still… meet his rather unfortunate end?

Oh no don't worry, it actually feels really nice that people have similar headcanons! I know Brumm having feelings for Grimm is pretty common but the other two are such a fun coincidence! I love that.

Something about Divine to me just screams "she loves fashion" (maybe it's the fancy mask?). And rewatching The Hunger Games, Effie's character gave me even more inspiration for my interpretation of her. So I headcanon her as quite eccentric and flamboyant, very much a perfectionist with an eye for beauty. She wouldn't be as shallow or manner focused as Effie, though, I do imagine she has a bit of a snark to her. But that bright, energetic personality, and her impressive talent for costume design, definitely made her very popular in the Troupe. She's very involved in the costume making process from start to finish, she wants to make sure each Grimmkin gets a costume that fits them perfectly, and she'll contribute during the sewing process, instructing her crew and assisting them in any trouble.

Brumm's feelings for Grimm were initially just a small nod to the relatively popular ship of these two, but it evolved over time into something that explores both of their personalities to a slightly larger extent. It emphasizes Brumm's loyalty and commitment, but also implies that deep down he wants something more. He lost his family before Grimm invited him to the Troupe, and one of those dead loved ones could have been his partner. Perhaps there were similarities between that partner and Grimm which eventually made Brumm have feelings for him. But then you might wonder: how much of it is genuine, and is it possible that he's just projecting his loss onto Grimm? I doubt he knows the answer himself, but at least Grimm was clear that he wasn't interested and spared Brumm the trouble of figuring it out. So he got the confession out of his system, and was able to sort his feelings out and move on. Well, at least mostly. I think he does still feel attraction towards Grimm, Brumm's subtle glances at Grimm's body whenever he lifts his cloak tell you that much, but that's nothing new for Grimm. He made his body desirable on purpose, so he's used to it, and in his eyes those stares don't mean anything. But at the very least Brumm realized that he needed to move on from his feelings towards Grimm, so those glances aren't as emotionally driven as they were in the past. Just a quick look to admire, that's all. Or so he says.

I made a post about Grimm being terrible at cooking already, so I won't repeat myself. But that is when our headcanons differ a little bit. While Brumm is definitely better at cooking, I wouldn't call him a seasoned chef. The Troupe has its own dedicated cooks so he doesn't visit the kitchen that often.

---

As for the second half of the ask. I mentioned before that I don't see the "bugs" in the AU as actual bugs (insects). To me they're just fictional species, though some of them do resemble real life animals (bugs or otherwise). So neither Brumm or Divine are an existing real life species of bug, though Divine does take heavy inspiration from termite queens (though she isn't actually meant to be a termite queen in my eyes, shes still a fictional creature). Brumm? He's definitely more mammalian in my eyes, maybe a bit bear like? Or perhaps he'd resemble something like a badger a little bit.

I'm not sure how to answer the Earth question, especially since, again, they are a fictional creature species to me. But maybe I could mention what kind of regions they're originally from.

Divine would be from a warmer region, maybe something resembling the mediterranean climate. Warm and dry summers, and cool and rainy winters. She's definitely from far away relative to Hallownest, Grimm would travel the whole world back then so that is why the two first met. She doesn't handle the Hallownest cold very well, you'll very rarely see her outside during the colder months, and she wears a lot of outfits with furs.

Brumm is from a colder region, something like taiga. His home land definitely had a lot of forests and long, cold winters, which made him adapt very quickly to the climate in Hallownest. He's covered in fur similarly to Grimm, though his isn't as much for show as it is to protect him from harsh temperatures. Consequently, his home isn't that far from Hallownest.

---

And lastly, no, I decided that Divine and Leg Eater don't meet. There is a lot about my Divine that I changed from canon for personal preference reasons. The charm making process in particular is... A bit too much for me personally hahaha. And I headcanon my Divine as gay, so she wouldn't be interested. Lucky for Leg Eater haha.

#ask stuff #feral pk au #au worldbuilding #save #divine #brumm #grimm

[tobiasdrake]

So that's it. That's the truth of our case. We know who our killer is. In a way, we've known for a while. All that's left is to clinch it.

The deepest, darkest, and most tragic secret of this case. How did a murderer penetrate the inner lab?

The answer is, we wore Yakou like a hat. A hat made of knives. So, Kung Lao's hat. We wore Yakou like Kung Lao's hat.

Poor Halara. They're up there trying desperately to resuscitate Yakou but he's a) dying of incurable gas and b) about to get Soul Reaped anyway. I hope they don't blame themselves when it happens.

Fortunately, if all Fubuki did was crack the Panel Room with us unknowingly, she's off the hook and in no danger. Servan was more involved in Shachi's murder and the Labyrinth let him off with a stern glare.

Obviously Yakou. Also a part of me considered that the woman in question might be Yuma's mom but that's just because she has purple hair. I shouldn't make assumptions. Not everyone with purple hair is related to one another.

It's not even the right shade of purple. Though it could be tempered by Yakou's blue, maybe? Anime hair does that sometimes.

I'm way off base here. Moving on. Our killer is, beyond a shadow of a doubt....

So we can now say pretty confidently that Jawline is Fink the Slaughter Artist. But Fink never set foot in the lab. He was here to conceal the truth behind why Yakou is dead.

Probably to avoid blowback on the Master Detectives when their boss murdered Amaterasu's most important scientist. I said before that the stabbings seemed a) unprofessional and b) emotionally motivated. Both of those things make sense now.

Oh, that's why the photo was here. I figured he simply carried it around on him.

Did Jawline know that Yakou was his client? Or did Yakou wrestle the photo away from him during the struggle?

Sephiroth Vader has been defeated but Vivia's still going to defend Yakou from the cruel grip of the truth.

I'm sure Yakou sincerely meant that. Emotionally motivated. But it was also part of the ruse to disguise the crime as a professional hit. It ensured everyone would be looking at FInk, not Nocturnal Detective Agency, when the smoke settled.

At least, in theory. Didn't work out so well for us in practice.

Or that. I was right on the ball when I said it's weird that Fink would send us a note, and makes more sense if Yakou sent it to us himself.

That also covers his OOC behavior when he's suddenly gung-ho to rescue some dipshit Amaterasu scientist after weeks of telling everyone to lay low and keep our heads down.

In fact, a paranoid part of me wonders if this was the plan from the start. If Yakou was discouraging us from making waves because he didn't want us getting our jolly asses killed by the Peacekeepers before he had a chance to finalize this plan.

To disguise the truth, is what I've been going with. Let's see what Yuma says.

Nobody would think twice about four new corpo-cops suddenly patrolling the halls if everyone's running around trying to thwart Jawline. That makes sense. So it wasn't about protecting us.

That makes my heart sad. :(

That's when he went to the airlock. He didn't go the other direction; He used his lead to get there first.

Jawline was the only person who could have been responsible for the blackout. But since we now know that Jawline isn't complicit in the lab intrusion, it makes more sense. The blackout was part of the plan to kill Yakou, per Yakou's instructions.

For Yakou, it gave him a cover story. "Oh no, a blackout, we need to hurry up and get Huesca out of there before the killer gets him through all that non-powered security!" was what he used to separate from us and instill in us the urgency we used to crack the Most Locked-est Room Ever.

This is why the blackout was the most inscrutable piece of the puzzle. It couldn't open doors or disable Huesca's security. If anything, it made doors more locked until backup power switched on and it didn't matter anymore. It couldn't do fucking anything. There was no practical reason for it. It contributed nothing to this plan.

The reason it was useless is because it's a placebo. It was an empty threat designed to instill in us a sense of urgency and get us moving. Yakou used the blackout to get us in gear and push us towards our steps of the plan.

Yakou spent a long time working on this. It's super premeditated. And reliant on insider knowledge of Amaterasu's classified lab. Photo Lady had to have worked there. Maybe the second desk in that office was Yakou's?

Yakou put his faith in us to ferry him to Huesca. We did not disappoint him.

Y'know, it's weird but I'm proud of that. I mean, a man is dead but fuck 'im. Huesca's far from a sympathetic victim. I know that and I don't even have the full details on Yakou's motive. I know enough to know Huesca got what he had coming for him.

We did this, y'all. We worked together to make this happen. This isn't Yakou's victim. It's all of our victim.

Yuma's sitting here wrestling with the awful truth, trying not to crumble under the pressure of his world shattering. But I'm over here respecting Yakou more than I have since the day we met him. You did it, man. You beat Amaterasu's highest possible security in the bowels of their HQ and pulled off the crime of the century.

And since the plan called for him to die triumphantly anyway, a legitimate argument could be made that he unknowingly beat Shinigami too while he was at it. Yeah, go ahead and reap his soul. Take the last 45 seconds of his life from him. Not like it fucking matters anyway. He's already won.

Murderer Yakou is infinity times cooler than Detective Yakou ever was! Holy shit, where was this guy in all of our hangouts!?

More than anything, Yakou wanted nobody to know why he did this. Even after his death. I'd thought he was trying to protect the agency but it feels like this goes deeper than that.

I want to say he wanted to discourage us for our own emotional wellbeing but my guy was about to slit Yuma's throat before Ghost Yakou intervened. So. Yeah. This was definitely more about protecting Yakou than anything else.

He wanted to do both if he could help it but if push came to shove, he was ready to kill Yuma to defend Yakou's reputation. It was only Yakou saying outright, "Do not do that thing," that convinced him otherwise.

And. Yeah. We talked about this before but. Like. We're in this mess because the Peacekeepers decided apropos of nothing that we dunit.

Well guess what, fuckos! We did dunit. A stopped clock is right twice a day. Yomi's equation is belligerent nonsense but his result isn't wrong. If anything, the truth makes our situation worse. We have accomplished nothing by learning all of this.

As much as Vivia doesn't outwardly show much of his feelings, he believed in Yakou. He liked working here and he liked Yakou enough to trust Yakou implicity. He doesn't know why Yakou did this, but he also doesn't care. It doesn't matter. He stands behind it, whatever the purpose.

I don't have that same kind of respect for Yakou but I do find myself nonetheless in the same boat as Vivia. I don't know why Yakou did this, but I've seen enough - both of him and of Huesca - to believe he had the right of it.

The grave-dancing Robot Researcher was right.

#master detective archives: rain code #drake plays rain code