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koolades-world · 4 months

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Hello is hug deprived anon again (this might be becoming my name oh no) and I’ve had an idea

I’m sure we can all agree that mammon deserves all the love, especially because his brothers are too mean to him, they pretend they don’t love him too constantly

So, what if Mammon is away for a week, doing photoshoots or dealing with witches or something, and MC is moping because they miss him,, like, they keep turning to their side to whisper to him and then like deflating when they see no Mammon,, and like, reaching out on that side to hold his hand and then being confused when there’s nothing there, and then they realize :( maybe they stole his blanket from his room because it smells like him, so it’s the best substitute for Mammon hugs while he’s away

Maybe Beel (idk if any of the other bros would be nice enough to tell him) is texting him like “your human is too sad come back soon” and sending him pictures of MC doing this stuff

When Mammon returns MC jumps on him for hugs like “you’re home!!!!!”

Idk I think he’d cry

I think he would feel very loved and probably also cry abt it

What you think? What do you think he’d do?

(If you choose not to write anything about this no worries obviously) (but I eventually might lol I think it’d be very cute and make him very happy to have someone who really misses him when he’s away)

HI!! haha if you want and plan to request more, feel free to pick an anon name! or I could just call you something like hug LOL

wayyy back when I first got into obey me in like 2021, there was this one specific fic I read kind of similar to his idea where mammon was upset at be mistreated and mc stood up for him and it was this cute bonding moment, and this request kinda reminded me of that!! gonna try to channel it a little bit

this idea is literally so cute and I'd be happy to write it! it makes my brain like a cat who has the zoomies hehe enjoy :D

How Ironic

You watched agonizingly as the clock ticked by even slower than usual. You'd been trying to do some sort of work, or anything other than stare at the damned clock forever now, but you just couldn't focus.

It had been exactly four days, six hours, and fifteen minutes and counting since Mammon had left for a week long promotional photoshoot in another ring of hell. You had your sad, but sweet send off and you promise yourself that time apart might be good for you. After all, it always felt like you could never get anything done with Mammon around. Yet, here you were, staring blankly at a clock with a blank piece of paper and pen in front of you.

Finally deciding to throw in the towel for now, you got up from your desk in your room. A walk to a local convivence store was in order. Snacks and fresh air wasn't a combo you could pass up. On your way out, you passed the door to his room which was slightly ajar. You briefly had the thought to poke your head in and ask him if he wanted to come, before remembering that he wouldn't be in there. You continued your walk to the front door, where you put on your shoes and grabbed a bag that had a few necessities in it for the short journey.

Thankfully, you hadn't passed any of his brothers on the way there, meaning you didn't have to explain yourself or have them ask to tag along. While you enjoyed their company, they weren't Mammon. If you needed help, you could always summon one of them thanks to the pacts, but you needed this short walk to clear your head.

The air was unfortunately stifling and overly humid outside, making you glad you were dressed light. It was basically just your pajamas but when you went out with Mammon, the two of you did this every time. As you autopiloted to your favorite corner store, your thoughts wandered back to Mammon again. You wondered how he was doing and if he missed being at home. You couldn't blame him if he didn't and hoped he was enjoying his time away from home as much as you wished he was by your side.

Once you got to the store, you wandered around for a bit, debating what to get. After grabbing a small basket, you began to pile in various things that sounded good. Once the basket was full, you came to the realization that all the snacks were Mammon's favorites; hell sauce flavored instant noodles, Chaos Devil Cider and ginger ale to mix, Devilbee honey popcorn, and a variety pack of Devildom gummies. This is what he introduced you to the first time you did a snack run together. You decided, in light of this discovery, to buy extras for him for when he got back. You figured he would enjoy it and it was the least you could do to thank him for introducing you to so many tasty things you would've not tried otherwise. Once you checked out, you returned back to the House of Lamentation with a new skip in your step.

You made your way back up to your room, and passed the ajar door of Mammon's room again. Memories of the two of you together flooded back again, and you couldn't help but step in. Just being in his room was like he was really right next to you again. You couldn't help but sit on his sofa and think about how much you missed him even though it hadn't even been a full week. His absence made you realize how much you missed his presence. After a moment, you decide to leave the snacks you bought for him on his bedside table so his brothers were less likely to wander in and find them before him.

As you were setting down everything you'd gotten for him, you something caught your eye just about to fall off the end of his bed. After you picked it off the edge of his bed, you realized it was the hoodie he always wore around the house. It was faded from lots of usage and the strings were fraying. You knew it smelt like his cologne and his shampoo from all of the tight embraces he'd given you while wearing it. You for sure thought he would've taken it with him, but it looked as if he had thrown it off last minute and thrown it on his bed without looking back.

Looking around as if someone might be watching (which could very well be the case since Lucifer was notoriously quiet), you pulled it to your chest and deeply inhaled. Of course, there was the chance that it was dirty, but you couldn't care less. It wasn't anything you hadn't seen of him before. Since there really wasn't anything stopping you, you took it back to your room with you. You weren't even really that cold, in all honesty. It was more of the idea that he was right next to you since it smelt just like him.

You continued your night like you had before you left, just with his hoodie on. You were magically much more productive wearing it and you managed to get several things done. Usually, you would be chatting with Mammon on the phone at about this time to talk about how your days were, but he was unfortunately busy with something work related. Instead, you decided to send him a sweet goodnight text and send a picture of your set up with the food and the show you've been watching one episode at a time. Not expecting a response before you called it a night, you turn your phone off and focused on eating and watching tv.

Beel wasn't sure what woke him up first: his stomach or Mammon blowing up his phone. Sitting up in his bed, he peered at his screen, squinting at it. He had at least twenty texts from his brother asking him to check on Mc for him after they hadn't responded to his texts. He wasn't sure if Mammon knew they were probably asleep or if he was just worrying for no reason. Either way, he decided to check on them for him anways. After his kitchen run, of course.

After letting Mammon know, he got out of bed and left his room. On his way to the kitchen, however, he ended up following the smell of cup noodles to Mc's room. There, he was able to complete both of his missions. He snapped a picture of Mc fast asleep with a couple half finished snacks, then took the snacks. Mission complete.

Mammon was only halfway through the only kind of dumb business dinner when he spammed Beel about Mc. He was more worried than he would admit to himself about them. He knew it was probably nothing and that they had fallen asleep, but Beel was usually awake at this time eating anyways. The food was nice and he was the star of the show, but the dinner was much too stifling for his taste. Most importantly, it was cutting into his precious time with Mc, something he looked forward to at the end of every day. He loved getting to hear their voice after being away from them for so long. He missed getting to see them in person, but getting to hear them was next best.

As he was poking at his food, he finally got the response he was waiting hand and foot on. Beel had responded with just an image at first, so he scrambled to open it. He breathed a sigh of relief. It was a picture of his beloved Mc fast asleep in their bed. You looked so peaceful but your face was barely visible because of the hood pulled up over your eyes. After squinting, he realized the hoodie you were wearing looked oddly familiar. He realized that that was his hoodie, the one he'd left on his bed when he was late the morning he left.

He could barely contain his excitement and it must had been evident on his face since those around him glanced at him, and then between each other a few times. He saved the photo to his phone, and texted Beel back a thanks. As everyone talked around him, he debating asking to leave the shoot early right then and there. If he left right now, he would be able to make it home before you woke up. While he entertained this thought for a while, eventually he decided to stick it out since there were only a few days left. As soon as he was allowed to leave, however, he would buy you something with the paycheck he'd be given. Something nice, maybe a gold bracelet that would remind you of him when you see it. He spent the rest of the night thinking, then dreaming about you. He could only hope you were doing the same. (you were <3)

After those final two and a half agonizing days and many texts later, it was finally time for Mammon to return home. For now, he decided to leave his car parked just outside the house, since he may or may not have been planning to take you out to dinner later that day. As soon as he walked in the door, one of his suitcases in tow, something, or rather someone, attacked him with a flying hug. At first, he was processing the situation as Mc began to squeal and squeeze him as tight as they could into a hug. He wasn't really sure where they had come from, but he knew who it was as soon as their arms were around him.

"MAMMON!" Mc swung the both of them around, buzzing with excitement. "Diavolo, I missed you so much. I don't want to let go of you. If you don't take me with you next time, I might die of sadness and loneliness!" Their arms were around his neck, and their face in his chest. He finally let go of his suitcase and hugged them back. He held them close, shutting his eyes for a moment to take it all in.

"I missed ya too. 's good to be back." He, again, couldn't stop the smile from growing on his face. His brothers never expressed themselves the way Mc was to him in that moment, so he wasn't quite sure how to feel. They never seemed excited to see him, so it was so refreshing to see Mc visibly excited and made him feel truly loved. All their time apart was worth moments like these.

As MC was squealing, a few of his brothers began to gather around the foyer around them. Perhaps they heard them, or maybe they knew he'd be back today at around this time. Either way, he waved at them, still keeping an arm around Mc.

"Guys! Mammon is back." Mc nuzzled his neck, still holding onto him.

"We can see that." Belphie remarked, sounding unamused. Mammon's smile faded a little. So, they didn't care that he was back, did they? He should've expected that from them. Actually, they probably wished he'd been gone for longer with the way they treated him sometimes.

"I talked to you guys about this. I don't expect you to do what I'm doing, but you need to show him you're happy he's back. You can't lie, he's irreplaceable! I don't know what I'd do without him, and I missed him so much." Just like that, Mc's words lifted him back up. Suddenly, he was no longer upset that his brothers didn't care. He had the attention and care from the person he thought about the entire time he was gone. "Shame on you all. Don't expect me to talk to you for the next few days. Let's get your things from the car, and go upstairs. We have so much to catch up on!" Mc only let go of his neck to grab his hand instead. They dragged him back out of the house, shutting the door with their foot behind the two of them.

"Mc, ya didn't have to do all that fer me..." Mammon glanced back at the shut door. His brothers didn't open it, or try to follow them.

"But I did! You're my first man, after all. I really can't express how much I missed you and just saying it doesn't feel like enough." They reached into the trunk of his car to begin taking out his suitcases. Mammon moved them aside gently, not wanting them to do even more for him that he felt as if he didn't deserve.

Mammon was silent for a moment, then decided to go digging through his backpack for the bracelet he'd bought for you. He hoped it would make it easier to tell you how he felt. "Here, this is fer you." He presented the small, black box to them. Looking caught off guard, they accepted it and opened it carefully. Your mouth dropped open as you saw the golden piece of jewelry he bought for you on the drive back.

"Mammon! This is beautiful. Thank you so much! But, I don't understand why. What's the occasion?" You removed it from the box and held it up to the light to study it. Several small charms hung off of it.

"That's the thing. There isn't one." He took a deep breath and looked down at his feet before continuing. "I just... yer so good to me. Ya texted me daily, called me daily, thought about me while I was gone, and even waited fer me like that so ya could surprise me when I got back. Ya care, and I know I'm not the best with showin' I care and it makes me feel shitty. Thank you, fer everythin'. I really missed ya." He couldn't see how Mc reacted, but was essentially tackled into another hug again by them.

"Mams, you show me you care in little ways. Just because you don't say it, doesn't mean that you don't. You just being back here with me is more than enough." He immediately thought about how ironic the entire situation was. He never actually told them how he felt and treated them like garbage sometimes, and he thought it might've been pushing the person he cared for most away, but really, he never had to worry about that. he'd never considered that they could see past his inability to admit his feelings. He hugged them back, savoring the moment since this time they were alone.

"Thank you Mc." He held back happy tears.

"No, thank you! Thank you for always being by my side. Now, instead of actually unpacking, let's just lock the car and sneak back inside. Maybe they'll eventually feel sorry and come looking for us, but we'll actually be hiding right under their noses. It'll be like a spy mission." Mc giggled leaning back to see his face. Mammon let them look him in the eyes, glistening tears and all.

"Yeah, let's do that. We can watch that movie ya wanted to watch and just share headphones." He found himself joining in with the quiet laughing along to something he wasn't sure either of them really understood. Something he did understand however, was that he knew he was loved back by the one he loved the most, and couldn't ask for more.

#almost published this unfinished and with all the notes I leave to myself #wouldve been so embarrased #if i have a million ideas but no time i just kinda word vomit it all out so later me can use the ideas in the way now me intended #and so i don't forget lol #i'm very forgetful lol #hug deprived anon!#obey me #obey me!#obey me x reader #obey me beel #obey me mammon #grr had a whole battle with the divider the entire time I wrote #not proofread lol #omswd #obey me shall we date #obey me mc

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mins-fins · 5 months

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☆ 1, 2, 3 NCT DREAM !

❝ jaemin really just broke the expensive ass

coffee machine.. how does he

expect to pay for that? ❞

──── ﹒ 𓇬﹐⬦﹒ ⟡ SYNOPSIS !

𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 it's at times like this that you really wish you were born rich. in your opinion, there's nothing worse than having to wake up and get ready in the morning everyday just to be subjected to verbal abuse from adults who believe the world revolves around them. honestly, the fact that you somehow have enough patience to get up and go through this shit day after day is much more surprising to you then the next women that comes in attempting to assault you because you wouldn't give her a 50% discount.

unfortunately, the expensive ass tuition you have to pay and your basic life necessities mean that you can't exactly up and quit whenever you want to. you know if you hold on for just a little bit longer, you'll eventually be able to get through it, but with customers that enjoy berating you, managers that don't give two shits, coworkers that quite literally make you want to rip your eyes from their sockets, and all while trying to balance college work at the same time, your not sure if your remaining patience is gonna be enough to keep you from finally snapping at everyone.

⌗ PAIRING 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 nct dream & male!reader

⌗ GENRE 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 college au, the characters work at unnamed retail place, sitcom style fic, fluff, angst, crack, comedy (attempted 😢), isa's written version of superstore, mostly platonic

⌗ WARNINGS 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 swearing, explicit language, the horror of retail working environments, shitty managers, mentions of smoking, mentions of mental breakdowns, depression, and verbal abuse, everyone has their issues and it sucks

⌗ STARRING 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 nct dream (ot7). original characters, other idols, and you of course!

⌗ STATUS 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 updates every now and then.

⌗ TABLE OF CONTENTS ꜜ

⌗ CHAPTER ONE — killing my boss challenge!

⌗ CHAPTER TWO — DO NOT GIVE JISUNG FIRE!

⌗ CHAPTER THREE — jaemin the virgin sacrifice.

⌗ CHAPTER FOUR — free boba

⌗ CHAPTER FIVE — WE KILLED YOU 😭

⌗ CHAPTER SIX — that's an instruction manual

⌗ CHAPTER SEVEN — no pun intended

⌗ CHAPTER EIGHT — el oh el

. . . more chapters tba!!

⌗ ISA SAYS ! um hello :]!! happy new year if your reading this and you are ahead of me in terms of timezones. during 2023 i had HORRIBLE luck when it came to actually starting a series and finishing it 🙁 and i am very disappointed in myself but tbh i was never really dedicated to all of those series but this is one im genuinely excited about this one because there's mostly a lack of romance and i am HORRIBLE at writing romance so yeah 🙏 i have to go to work now so i wont be around for a few hours but ily all have a very good new year 🫶

#女˚ 1 2 3 !#nct dream #nct dream au #nct dream x reader #nct dream imagines #nct dream drabbles #nct dream scenarios #mark lee #huang renjun #lee jeno #lee donghyuck #na jaemin #zhong chenle #park jisung #nct dream x male reader #male reader #nct dream series #𑁍 ࣪˖ 𓂃 isa's works!

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wangxianficrecs · 11 months

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💙 What We Grew in this Forsaken Place by Admiranda

💙 What We Grew in this Forsaken Place

by Admiranda

T, 27k, Wangxian

Summary: Wei Wuxian is the sole cultivator stationed in Yiling Tower out in the Forsaken Battlegrounds, the loneliest post out across the jianghu. No one else in memory has ever lasted the five years of a cultivator posting, but he's determined to do it and make it out before the sheer emptiness can affect even him. His quest becomes that much easier when he rescues a snow white fox that unexpectedly appears one day, giving him the companionship and friend he so desperately longs for out here in the desolate wastes. The mystery of just who this giant, white fox is and how he ended out here in the first place is a secondary concern to the joy of finally having someone at his side.

Kay's comments: I absolutely adore this story, it's everything I ever wanted! Modern AU with cultivation and Wei Wuxian who is on watchtower duty in the Burial Mounds, where he lives an isolated life as a researcher and well, watcher, of the Burial Mounds, at least until one day, a horde of Fierce Corpses chases a wounded fox to his watchtower, who soon becomes his new companion! I absolutely adore the story-telling of this fic and I love how Wei Wuxian writes his reports about the situation and comments on the strange happenings of his lonesome watchtower-life. I also love that he calls his fox companion Bunny and soon adopts some real bunnies (with the intent of having his fox friend eat them) and just the general vibes of this story are impeccable. Wei Wuxian's parents live! Which I wish more people would write in modern AUs, like, why do you keep killing them? I also love the atmosphere the story built with Wei Wuxian slowly succumbing to the isolation of living like this and how the fox and later the bunnies help him out of it. And of course, there is the fox' secret idenitity and the whole mystery around that too...

Excerpt: “Dear Whoever is Responsible for Reading My Reports. The Forsaken Battlegrounds continue to be the Forsaken Battlegrounds. Resentful, festering, rotting corpses sometimes getting up and getting into big fights with each other. Considering testing their ability to dance with a few choice flute solos. Supplies are adequate for another month, although I am running low on tea. Refill on non-necessities would be appreciated. Also send extra meat in new varieties. New houseguest can't eat tofu. Discovered that the hard way. “Unexpectedly found a fox in the area. It was alive when I found it and remains alive to this day. Was quite savaged by fierce corpse pack, but is responding well to basic treatment. Additional supply requests to continue caring for unexpected companion: fresh bandages, needle, thread, salve. Three queen sized fluffy blankets. Basket fitting these dimensions: 48-48-6 with a dip so that it can climb in and out easily. Hind leg is badly broken and bitten to all hell and back, so no jumping possible. Wooden box with same dimensions and enough sand to fill it. I am not making this poor animal go outside to do its business. “Why did you never consider sending the previous cultivators a pet? Much easier to ignore everyone outside with a fox to talk to now. Strong recommendation that future cultivators who take my position adopt a cat or a rabbit or something. “Regards, Wei Wuxian, Yiling Tower Cultivator.”

pov wei wuxian, modern setting, modern with magic, shapeshifters, animal transformation, fox lan wangji, secret identity, wei wuxian has a fear of dogs, genius wei wuxian, identity reveal, getting to knew each other, friends to lovers, slice of life, gardens & gardening, location: yiling, reincarnation, loneliness, isolation, research, cangse sanren and wei changze live, lan wangji loves rabbits, fanart, getting together, fluff, @ladypfenix

~*~

(Please REBLOG as a signal boost for this hard-working author if you like – or think others might like – this story.)

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travelingneuritis · 1 year

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Hello! I have been LOSING it over your cyberpunk fic - it's some of the best and most exciting science fiction writing I've read in a long time. I was wondering if you might share some of your influences for the fic? I would really love to read them! I saw you mention Snow Crash in the author's notes and it piqued my interest re: re: what else you're drawing from, canonical, fanfictional, or contemporary.

ok firstly, hi!!!! and holy shit that's so nice of you, what an unbelievable compliment for what I still halfway think of as robot-fucking porn that got out of hand. i'm so glad you're enjoying it!! here's my far-from-exhaustive yet still really long and rambling list of Media In This Genre I Enjoy:

Obviously, Neal Stephenson's Snow Crash and its loose sequel, The Diamond Age. Both describe a plausible near-future of improved technology, deepening economic stratification, and a society crumpling under the weight of looming collapse. That makes them sound like Any Other Sci-Fi Novel but I assure you, they are a delicious and sensitive read. (The Diamond Age is one of my all-time favorite novels: expansive yet tight worldbuilding, plot that never plods despite crossing multiple years and POVs, and the one trope that cannot fail to make me weak in the knees, Unrelated Adult Unexpectedly Becomes Parent Figure To Endangered Small Child Out Of Sheer Necessity. the nell & miranda storyline makes me cry just thinking about it.)

Michael Moorcock's An Alien Heat is short and weird, about a "perfected" future version of humanity that has absolutely every element of existence (resources, laws of physics, brain chemicals, reproduction) under such tight control that there's nothing left to do except play make-believe all day, every day. so basically, jin sect. Then a time-traveling Victorian housewife gets stranded among the decadents. It's hilarious and surprisingly subtle.

As far as movies go, it feels obnoxious to say Blade Runner, so instead I'm saying Blade Runner 2049! (or as my roommate liked to call it, Blaze Runner 420.) The original is a classic for a reason but parts of it really don't hold up for me; the sequel, though, has pretty much everything I like, and the stuff I don't like is easier to ignore or skip. I love how dirty it makes the future look.

The Fifth Element has super immersive set design/dressing and my favorite costume design from any movie ever. the whole Born Sexy Yesterday thing is a bit much to get past but i still like to watch it for the worldbuilding, which is plentiful. (my roommate: "what dumbass let her google War right before the apocalypse? Just let chris tucker go down on her for 20 minutes problem solved")

I've also been looking at a lot of Richard M. Powers illustrations and like, chewing my hair over how good they are and how much I wish I could paint like that. I do try I think I'm just too much of a tightass lol

As far as MDZS fic recs:

Not Afraid To Know, by Phnelt, is a bouncy one-off about robot LWJ and his first, ahem, experience with a cute backalley technician who teaches him how to feeeel. It's funny, it's hot, and it sparkles with Phnelt's customary wit & charm.

electric heart by sundiscus has been at 3/? since 2020 and probably won't update again, but I still reread it for the incredible worldbuilding and character design. especially love the way the curtain is gradually lifted on WWX's personhood. LWJ's crush keeps pace, obviously.

also the sexy/violent neon noir short series Inside the Mind of a Man is a Massacre by Pip (Moirail). Especially the two one-offs focusing on (droid? Bionic part-human?) WWX and his (handler? coder? lover?) LWJ. Ooh, and when I just went to grab that link off their page I saw they have a new WIP in a similar setting, world.runExecution(), which is 2 chapters in and really exciting so far.

there are almost certainly more that i've read and loved and lost. please feel free to add on with more recs! and thanks for the ask i love talking about this stuff i hope i get some recs back!!

#fic recs #media recs #asks #mdzs meta #mdzs fanfiction #recs

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zackmartin · 1 year

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z!!! this is shona, i just saw your comment on best laid plans, and i'll get around to responding on ao3 soon, but i just wanted to tell you it made me tear up. thank you so so much for not just reading but going the extra mile and writing such a wonderful comment AS YOU WERE READING. it actually made my night. you're the best and i am sending you so much love rn

Ah, I’m so glad! While I appreciate your thanks and saying all that, it isn’t really necessary. I think if anyone can understand your plight, of writing for the world’s tiniest fandom(s) which also happen to be dead, it’s me 😅 But, even if that weren’t the case, I’d still leave a comment anyway, because your fic is wonderful, and it deserves all the praise! I actually wish I could’ve given you much more, but I was basically just saying the same thing over and over again, and it got to the point where I was like “alright lemme stop myself before I give them the same paragraph ten times over”.

But, while we’re here, I’d actually like to say a few more things if that’s okay!

(I’m going to put them under a read more so I don’t spoil anything for any of our mutual friends/followers that might not have had a chance to read yet)

First, I really love how you expand on this world. Obviously I wish the show would’ve gotten more seasons so they could’ve explored places outside of Astoria, but I appreciate how you develop upon the scraps we were given, like explaining more of Arc’s mermaid side, while also putting limitations on it. Like, yeah, he can breathe underwater and provide Ciara with oxygen, but he’s human enough that it won’t last forever. Also, mentioning Arc being descended from pirates; like I know the show kinda touched on that, but I love how you took it a step further and made it pirates specifically because it just makes so much sense!!! (especially for a place like seagate, that has months like sharktober and crabuary. like, we know seagate was full of thieves but specifying that they were descended from pirates was PERFECT)

On that note, I also love you expanding on the mermaid treasure, and the trident and kinda tying the whole show together with bringing back Ryker. It felt like the perfect way to end that, having Arc and Ciara be a little older, and Arc being willing to sacrifice himself in order to finally put an end to Ryker and all the damage he’s caused. And like, bringing Arc’s goal full circle, with finally getting to avenge Seagate, except now there’s a new layer to it, because this also means protecting the Princess.

Also, like. I cannot even imagine the rage and anguish Ciara must’ve felt when she was desperately searching for Arc on the beach, but found Ryker instead. Like, I just can’t even imagine seemingly losing the love of your life, whom you didn’t even really get to experience “being” with because they didn’t really confess until that life or death moment, but now you’re coming face-to-face with the person that’s caused so much destruction and heartache. Like, the feeling she probably got from finally running Ryker through, but the victory is almost hollow because Arc is still gone.

Also! I love how things start out kinda light-hearted, but get slowly more intense by the end. The first scene really feels like Arc and Ciara being fresh out of knight school, and still having that confidence that comes along with winning most, if not alI (can’t really remember, it’s been a while since I rewatched the show) of the battles you’ve fought. And the two of them keeping track/competing over how many people they’ve taken out. SO THEM

And!!! The progression of the kisses was so real. Like,I know I kinda said this in the comments, but the first one being an accident, the second one being out of necessity, the third one being a “proper” kiss but not really a kiss, because, yeah, they’re both super into it, but it’s for a mission it clearly means nothing. And then. AND THEN!!!! Arc is ready to sacrifice himself, and he has this calmness about him despite knowing he’s about to die because this is just. It’s the only option, and he’s going to do what’s necessary because that’s really who they both are at their cores, but he just HAS to tell Ciara how he feels before he goes, and her just. Kissing him, the two of them kissing as if this might be the very last time. I’M AN INCOHERENT MESS ALL OVER AGAIN.

ALSO!! I know this fic is basically just Tiara Thief, but you perfectly captured Ciara’s other relationships in that final scene. (like wishing warwick was there with healing spells, or prudy to carry him, or sage to snark that he’s just taking his time waking up, etc etc. It was so perfectly reflective of her relationship with each of them.) Really, the TALENT that you possess like. Can you save some for the rest of us, thanks

And finally, I will reiterate that the final scene is PERFECT. Idk if it’s because childhood me was obsessed with the little mermaid alskdjf but Ciara getting Arc back and he wakes up and he’s alive!! And now they’ve finally confessed how they feel, and they’re exhausted from battle and all the emotions, but they’re together and the sun is rising and it’s all pink and pretty and AHHH!!! PERFECT MOMENT PERFECT MOMENT!!!

anyway. sorry this was long and rambley, but I really needed you to know these things. 💖

#asks #shona tag

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kitweewoos · 2 years

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For the fanfic writing asks, 73-78 please!!

73. What do you tend to get complimented on the most about your writing?

Imagery??? I think??? I have no idea?

74. Do you have a fic you wish got a bit more love?

This is a little difficult, because all of my OC fics do really really well (and especially compared to fics that were written for aos, no shade to that fandom but there wasn't a lot of fandom interaction, you know???) But I think the steps you take deserves more love, there was a lot of love in that fic that deserves to be seen. It's a little bit of a rarepair, in that I'm the only one who's written for it, but it deserves that love!

75. Is there a particular fic that readers gravitated towards that you didn’t expect?

Strangely, i love to hear you laugh even if i didn't tell the joke - it's a poly fic that I presented to a fandom that does not really do poly ships often, so it's surprising and I'm so happy to see it do so well!

76. How do you deal with writing pressure, whether internal or external?

Take a breather, remember that this is something I enjoy, that I can walk away from it whenever I want, and it's not a necessity that I write that day, that creation and productivity are not the reason I was put on this earth, and I can just enjoy my life. I'll take a break, and come back to it when I'm ready.

77. Why do you enjoy writing fanfiction?

God, I love fanfic so much. It's like, I love these babies, these grown ass men that someone else made, and I get to play with them? Like dolls when I was a kid? But, you know, grown up, because what I do is put them in filthy situations - it's also the most fun form of practice for original fiction I've ever come across, with the best kind of fans and friends that you get out of the creation process, and I'm so good

78. What motivates you during the writing process?

Wanting to get through the story? Like, I barely go into a story with an end goal, just a basic premise, and I just... I just want to know how it ends. It's like... it's like reading a novel for the first time, but you're also doing the writing? Does. Does that even make sense?

[FANFICTION WRITING ASKS]

#ask tag #talk to me #wip ask #lovelymysticmoon #a tag for shae #thanks shae you're the best!

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burningdarkfire · 1 year

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17 and 37!

send me some questions for fic writers!

hi bestie thank you for giving me attention even though it took me a month to acknowledge it ✌😎 sometimes that’s just how it be

17. What highly specific AU do you want to read or write even though you might be the only person to appreciate it?

the greatest offender still outstanding in the ideas bin is the blumendrei eclipse AU. the eclipse skinline/universe in league of legends has like 10 lines of lore but the aesthetic fucks severely and i adore it. here’s a snippet from one of the character bios:

The hated sun-eater, Kayle, wished to be one with the divine she loved, devouring the primordial sun and steeping the land in an eternal eclipse. Driven mad with light and unable to contain her power, she passed fragments down to an army of witch-knights, who slew the other gods in an act of unforgivable blasphemy.

what if SHE is experiencing the worst life of her life? what if SHE has to writhe endlessly in a hell of HER own making? what if HER babygirl tendancies have bewitched me mind and soul? etc. anyway. you understand me

37. Promote one of your own “deep cut” fics (an underrated one, or one that never got as much traction as you think it deserves!). What do you like about it?

for what you are is mine is my conclusive wulf-centric character study - which, by necessity, means it’s also probably my most expansive asawulf exploration. mostly i love it because my versions of astrid and wulf are basically OCs and i enjoyed writing (and rereading) a fic that was so blatantly for myself, but i do think it has some damn good lines in it - it has a lot more emotional punchiness than i usually aim for. i’ve gotten some really insanely nice comments about this fic even though it’s so niche, and it’s always great to hear it landed with some people :)

#my posts #writing blogging #replies

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officialscaramouche · 3 years

Note

ayo feel like doing a gorou confession fic for me? pretty please with sprinkles on top (you know that fucking tiktok)

Ofc Pizzato anything for u my dear 🥰

Pairing: Gorou x gn!reader

Warnings: slight angst

Word count: 1,969

You heard a couple friendly knocks on your office door, eyes glancing to the clock to see it was a little past noon and you knew exactly who it was. “Come in,” you chime, putting down your pen and stretching upwards with a smile.

“Helloooooo!” You hear as the door swung open, Kazuha flaunting an envelope between his fingers. “Letter time!”

You sweep to your feet and give him grabby hands. “Give it to me!” He chuckles and places the thin paper into your hands. “Tell me who it is already,” you giggle as you rip it open and slide the letter out.

“No,” he sighs, rolling his eyes. “I keep my promises.”

You quirk and eyebrow before you fold open the letter. “Even if I bribe you with dango?”

Kazuha smiles. “Even if you bribe me with dango.”

You grunt and groan but it quickly stops when you unfold the letter, reading the contents.

Good afternoon, cupcake, it starts. You blush at the pet name. I hope your day is going as well as mine. I’ve just won the office lottery! I’m going to ask for more snacks in the break room. That way, everyone benefits too! Specifically though, I want more sakura mochi! The ones you made for us were delicious. Share your recipe? :3

I adore you, your secret admirer.

You squeeze the letter to your chest and squeal, your face warm from blushing and your heart pounding against your chest. “Oh, Kazuha, whoever this person is, I really wish they’d come up and confess!”

Kazuha tuts and wiggles his finger. “But then the mystery wouldn’t be there anymore.”

“Screw mystery!” You squealed, gazing down at the illegible and scratchy handwriting, the mysterious stains and fur all over the page. “I’m ready to hear these words in person.”

Just then there was a knock on your door and a quick turn of the knob, one of the top brass leaning against your door frame. “Good morning, Chatty Cathy’s,” sang a familiar voice and ear twitches.

You wave while Kazuha bows, hiding the letter behind your back. “Good morning, General Gorou.”

The tail behind his back wagged discreetly as the two men share a knowing glance. “Kazuha,” the general clears his throat. “May I speak with you?”

The samurai nods his head and gives you a little wave as he walks out the door. “Bye boys!” You sing, tucking the letter back into the envelope and putting it away.

The next day, as routine, a little past noon you heard three friendly knocks on your door. You excitedly put your pen down, closing your ledger and standing out of your chair and onto your feet. “Kazuha,” you grinned. “Come in!”

He pushed the door open with his back, lugging a big box with some plastic sticking out from the top. “I’m just a mule to you guys aren’t I?” He groaned, lifting the box up and onto your desk. “This is ridiculous.”

You stood on your tippy toes to try and peek inside the box without being obnoxious. “What is it?” You hum, getting more and more restless.

“Your letter, what else?” He kind of snapped, letting out a deep sigh and rolling his eyes. “I wish he’d confess too. That way I don’t have to carry these things.”

You pulled back the top of the box that was just out of your reach. “Here,” pushing your hands away, Kazuha tore the box apart to expose a giant basket full of goodies and flowers. “The letter.”

Kazuha snapped the taped-on letter from the plastic and handed it to you. Wasting no time at all, you rip the envelope open and unfold the letter.

Dearest [Y/N], you’ve pierced my heart like an arrow through a target and I simply cannot get you off my mind. I heard from the grapevine that you wish for my confession. …Maybe I shall do so in the near future? It’s not that I do not want to be yours, but rather that you make me quite nervous. Still, we see each other for terribly brief moments but these moments are the most precious to me. Hopefully I can muster up the courage to finally tell you how I feel. In the meantime, please accept these treats and toys imported from across the globe. My favorite are the dog-shaped biscuits.

Your shy admirer.

Looking up from the letter you find Kazuha stuffing his face with some chocolatey cookies from within a tin box labeled ‘Fontaine.’ “Are those good?” You ask, reaching in and stealing one.

“Mhm,” Kazuha hums, taking a bite out of the one in his hand. “I’ve never had Fontaine chocolate. I guess the rumors about being the best were true.”

You melt under the sweet taste and crunchy texture, thinking that if your crush’s letters had a taste, it would be like this. “This is so nice,” you sigh, eyes sparkling as they gaze upon the basket. “Do you think he’s going to confess to me?”

Kazuha stares out the windows of your office that peer into the rest of the building, watching a certain general spill water on himself and the resistance leader. He takes another bite of a cookie. “Maybe.”

You squeal in delight and spin around in joy. “My heart’s beating so fast! I hope he does it soon or I’ll explode!”

Kazuha chuckles and playfully shoves you aside. “If you explode, I’m eating all of your snacks.”

“No! They’re mine!”

Weeks— almost a month— go by with no further letters. Kazuha stopped coming by, whether at noon or otherwise. The only knocks you got were visits from Kokomi about the budget or from other soldiers carrying reports and receipts from spending. Your heart ached at the sudden lack of contact, wondering if you had done or said something wrong.

Maybe your eagerness was intimidating and this mystery man just wanted someone to flirt with without commitment. Maybe he got bored of you. Maybe he didn’t want to talk to you anymore.

Regardless, you wanted to try and spark it back up in case you’ve stepped on some toes without realizing. That night when you got home, you tossed the ingredients for sakura mochi into a bowl and got to mixing.

The office ate everything you brought before lunchtime rolled around. With such great success, you had confidence that he’d reach out to you tomorrow, if not today.

But alas you were left in silence once more, leaving your heart to crumble and ache. You were quick to recover, considering you never met the guy— let alone knew his name. But you had no time to be worrying anyway, because in a couple of days one of the squads were returning from the front lines and you needed to factor in medical costs. Apparently they took a hard hit when Sara Kujou showed up with her samurai. Kokomi was depending on you, and you didn’t want to let her down.

You spend these few days really crunching the numbers, making sure that every wounded soldier would get the basic medical necessities with some left over for any miscalculations. With every i dotted and every t crossed, you stuffed your report into a fancy envelope and handed it to Kokomi. “Thank you [Y/N] for your hard work under such a sudden timetable.” She thanked, tucking the envelope under her arm. “The team should be arriving tomorrow, so I will be submitting this for review immediately.”

You bow respectfully and offer your thanks for praise. “It’s no problem at all, Her Excellency. I was given ample time to prepare the balance sheet.” You begin to turn when you’re stopped once again by her.

“Before you go,” she smiles softly. “Would you mind helping out at the infirmary? We’re short handed right now with the sudden intake of Delusions.”

“Of course, Her Excellency. I will be there whenever you need me.”

You weren’t specialized in medics but you had helped around often enough to know the basics. And anyone could become a master at immediate medical attention after doing it so many times.

The flood of gurneys was a little disheartening to see, but you were still thankful for all that they do for the greater of the country. It must be scary being at the front lines, but everyone knew what they were signing up for.

You catch sight of Genera Gorou and Lord Kazuha chatting with Lady Kokomi before you were assigned to a batch of wounded soldiers, feeling a little bad for harboring ill feelings toward the young lord for disappearing. ‘You could’ve at least told me that you were leaving,’ you thought as you rinsed the injured area.

“I can take over from here,” the head medic stepped in, slipping on a new pair of gloves before getting a closer look at the soldier before you. With most of everyone patched up and recovering, the medic team was able to take control of the infirmary once again.

You wash your hands and check the clock. A little past noon. It’s funny how at this time you would’ve waited with bated breath for a couple of knocks. But not anymore.

You step out of the infirmary and find Kazuha and General Gorou sitting outside on the benches there. “Oh, hi boys,” you say surprised.

Kazuha grabs and shakes your hand. “Thank you for helping out our soldiers,” he says seriously.

“Oh, it’s not that big of a deal,” you mutter. “I do this all the time.”

A calloused hand pushes Kazuha’s away and shakes your hand firmer, harder. “No, [Y/N],” Gorou says with a sort of oomph behind his words. “These are my men…my family. They would be suffering if not for your help.”

You look to the side uncomfortably, a little put-off by the tension in the air. “And that’s why—!” Gorou continues, suddenly eight decibels louder. You hold eye contact with the general, his face darkening into a deep red flush, his eyes glassy and ears twitching. He squeezed your hand harder and shut his eyes. “M-My C-C-Cupcake!!! P-Please let m-me take you on a date!!!!”

Kazuha winced at the loudness of his friend, covering one of his ears but still smiling nonetheless. The people walking by stared and mumbled, but it didn’t matter as you felt your heart pound against your chest. You felt your eyes well with tears as now your face flushed red, the general cautiously opening his eyes to see your trembling lips and pathetic pout. “A-Ah! [Y/N], don’t cry!!”

You tug on his hand hard, pulling the man into your arms and squeezing him tight. You sobbed into his chest, hearing and feeling how frantic his heart was beating as well. “You idiot!” You shout into his battle-worn chest. “Don’t disappear without telling me…”

Gorou caressed the back of your head and chewed on his lip, his tail drooping with guilt but twitching with excitement for being in your arms. “Did I…scare you?” He whispered tentatively, choosing his words carefully.

You pull away and wipe your eyes, Gorou watching you closely and holding tightly onto your waist. “I thought you got tired of me…because I stopped hearing from you.” Gorou frowned and cupped your face, thumbing your cheeks gently. “I even made sakura mochi and I didn’t—”

“You made sakura mochi??!??!!! Is there any left?!?” Gorou’s jaw dropped. He let you go to turn and run to the break room, halting before running back to embrace you once more. “Heh, uh…” he chuckled nervously. “I’d actually…rather hold you like this…”

You couldn’t fight the smile that spread across your cheeks, flushing your body against his chest. “That’s okay,” you giggle. “There aren’t any left.”

You had no idea that his ears could flatten sadly like that.

#writing #Gorou #Gorou x reader #angst #fluff #oneshot #a stupid capricorn

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alien-baby-boy · 3 years

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*Comes rolling in* Thoughts on Omegaverse??? 🎤🎤🎤 headcanon, perhaps?? (I like your headcanons best :3)

hi, ace! i like hearing from you, too. i just imagined you on rollerskates & that made me laugh so take it as you will :D

i'll split this into two parts, my thoughts on a/b/o as a whole & my headcannons for it

tw for the low tier in my thoughts, dark things that are unfortunately common in omegaverse (r*pe, abuse, drugging, etc)

Part One: Thoughts

i have read omegaverse before, it's practically a staple in any fandom. that being said there is definitely a tier of what is a good a/b/o fic & what isn't. all in my opinion, so i'm not judging the people that read "low tier", it's just not my cup of tea.

high tier- alphas, betas, and omegas all stay true to their personality or character, dynamics are seen as more of a gender & about as important as hair or eye color. omegas can function in society alone & be successful, alphas can be homemakers, etc, it all depends on the person. heats & ruts are inconvenient, sure, but it doesn't drug the person & make them useless for a week. just about any pairing has a chance at romance, not just alphas & omegas or two betas.

low tier- omegas as a whole have little personality & only want to cook, clean, have kids, etc. i admire the people that do this in real life, but there's almost no way every single omega wants the same thing. also, alphas that abuse, r*pe, or treat other dynamics as slaves because "it's in their nature" is definitely a whole can of worms i do not want to open or even look at. when omegas are basically drugged during their heats & unable to do anything except sex or self pleasure, as well as when omegas only exist to "serve their alphas"/ reproduce.

i realize a/b/o is fiction and all, but reading the kind of stuff in the low tier example makes me physically sick.

now that all the dark stuff is out of the way, here's what you're really here for

Part Two: Headcannons

L is a,,,, omega!

everyone thought he'd present as a beta, since he didn't show signs of any dynamics & generally acted like he didn't care about it while showing little emotion in daily life

L hates being an omega and cried for hours after presenting. they locked themselves in their room and refused to come out for three days until they needed to get food.

per L's request, Watari hid their dynamic in official papers & got the best suppressants, birth control, and other omega necessities that money could buy

they frequently wish they were a beta, don't ever want children or to manage a household, and wanted to remove the omega organs from their body.

since L wouldn't be able to live without said organs, they just suppress everything & ignore the warnings of various suppressant companies to use caution

L was very worried his dynamic would negatively affect his career as a detective & make the task force undermine his authority, so he hid his dynamic as much as possible while not bringing up other people's

took private self defense lessons (capoeira) to feel more in control of his body as well as on the off chance something might happen

nothing ever did, L's just paranoid.

their heats were already intense, but on the rare occasion they forget to take their suppressants, it's ten times worse.

L is about the average height of a beta, although he's much skinnier than most betas or well-fed omegas, so most people just assume he's an unclassified beta

L's pheromones smell like a combination of vanilla, orchids, and clean soap

Light is a,,, alpha!

he was very overprotective of his loved ones, even before he presented, and was raised knowing that his personality matters more than his dynamic

his family did joking bets on if he would be classified as a beta or an alpha, since he had traits of both. he loved to cook, was a very active kid, and always knew when someone was really hurt or just needed their parent to get them when he was on the playground

Light is netural on having children, but definitely wants marriage and a partner who wouldn't need to rely on him 24/7

he generally dated betas, and a few omegas before meeting L.

Light doesn't understand why L hates their dynamic so much, since omegas are respected & equal to other dynamics in japan, but he accepts them regardless

he is a firm believer in dynamic equality & is not afraid to speak about it or correct older generations when they're being rude.

Light's pheromones smell like citrus, pine, and cloves

Misa is a,,, omega!

it was no surprise when she presented, Misa has always loved attention from others, fantasizing about her wedding, dress up toys & dolls, as well as other traditionally feminine things associated with omegas.

she doesn't suppress her heat but she does take birth control since she wants to live her life independently and have a career as a pop star/ idol before starting a family

she has dated other omegas, beta, and alphas before, but generally prefers betas (*cough* like rem *cough*)

Misa has volunteered with younger abused or at risk omegas, to show them you can live however you please no matter your dynamic, and frequently campaigns for better access to heat suppressants, allowing dynamics to be removed upon request, etc

she loves being an omega and honestly couldn't imagine herself as a beta or alpha

Misa's pheromones smell like peppermint with a bit of sage mixed in

also, Rem, Ryuk, Matsuda, Watari, & Sayu are betas. Aizawa, Mogi, Soichiro, & Wedy are alphas. Sachiko, Halle, Naomi Misora, & Mello are omegas

amab omegas are pretty rare at just 15% of all omegas, while afab alphas are at 40%

betas make up a the majority at about 55% of the population being beta, 25% alpha and only 19% omega.

the missing percent is because in rare cases, like if it would put them in danger or if they're in an important political position, some people are unclassified, or they just never present medically. unclassified people generally live as betas

this is very long, but i hope you enjoyed! i've never written an a/b/o fic before, but now i feel like i could if i wanted, so thanks for the writing inspiration! until next time *waves*

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marzipanandminutiae · 3 years

Note

Okay, I've been living for the Lucille Sharpe appreciation society, so:

a) Do you think that a happy ending is even possible for the CP triad?

b) If so, HOW? Because barring any dramatic & ooc personality changes I feel like that would be... er, not easy

c) (Do you have ot3 fic recs 🥺)

(To be clear, I am also in the Edith Cushing Appreciation Society. They're both amazing and I want good things for them. Also for them to kiss.)

A. I...can suspend disbelief enough in fanfic to imagine it. In the strictest possible interpretation of canon, I doubt it. I do think the hypotenuse pairing- Edith/Lucille -has more canon support than one might think, given that JChas played Lucille as queer, and Alan warns Edith about her fascination with "the Sharpes," not just Thomas. If a lot of things were different, maybe.

But like. Even if Edith "Gothic Novelist With Secret Dark Side" Cushing could find it in her heart to be down with coping-mechanism incest (and that's honestly less of a stretch for her character than one might initially think, in my mind), the wife murders are going to be a problem. Especially since they also tried to murder her, and killed her father, and lied to her, and gaslighted her, and shoved her off a balcony- there's just too much water under the bridge now.

B. Basically, if the Sharpes hadn't murdered a bunch of innocent women + Carter and tried to kill Edith, I think it could be possible even if you kept things totally canon otherwise.

In fanfic, the usual way is to have Edith be a bit more amoral than she seems in canon. I say "seems," because you can still write things that are easy to imagine the character saying/doing even if they're technically OOC.

Edith is an interesting character because, while she's a generally good person and kind to others, she's not without an edge to her personality. She can be every bit as stubborn, resourceful, and willing to dirty her hands as Lucille is, when the chips are down. And even in Buffalo, she's pretty quick to pass judgment on the other people around her if she considers them inferior. I don't think she WOULD make peace with multiple cold-blooded murders and shack up with incestuous serial killers, in canon. But I think it's easy to imagine a version of her that might.

Or it's a total AU where the situation is completely different.

Or Edith is varying degrees of drugged/brainwashed and doesn't know about the murders. I've read and enjoyed all three flavors.

Interestingly, you don't see a lot of "the Sharpes work on their issues and get better" fics. Possibly because that takes away half the appeal of exploring messy, unhealthy, transgressive relationships in a safe fictional setting. Which is mostly what brings people to the CPeak fandom.

(It's a very understanding fandom by necessity- if antis have ever found it, they didn't stick around long. I've seen things that are past my limit even for dark!fic, but I just read the tags and keep scrolling.)

C. I do have recs, yes! Normally I'm not big on polyshipping (or, you know, incest), but in this specific case, I'm very down for the OT3 situation.

Of Light and Shade, by xahra99 (no major non-canon content warnings)

AU. Edith, Lucille and Thomas visit Venice, and somebody dies. Written for the prompt 'they should have traveled around Europe taking turns to be the black widow.'

Lullaby and Variations by kvisan (no major non-canon content warnings)

A traditional English lullaby, arranged in the romantic style for viola and piano, by Lady Lucille Sharpe in collaboration with Lady Edith Sharpe.

For Thomas, beloved of us both.

Strike Release orphaned (explicit. CW for dubcon and drugging, as well as the usual canon stuff)

The hands of a clock are funny things, they swing back before they go forth. Stories, too, swing back and forth. In this one, you do not kill the girl.

You keep her.

What Desire Will Make Foolish People Do by Heather (spicy, but only as far as second base. no major non-canon content warnings. one of the few "Allerdale Hall is destroyed" fics I actually like)

What if Edith didn't like tea?

we too (three) could be glorious by Lise (explicit. no major non-canon content warnings)

Lucille makes a different choice, when it comes to Edith Cushing. They leave Allerdale Hall behind, but without an anchor Lucille thinks she might drift away.

Thomas and Edith will provide that anchor.

the whole is greater by marypsue (another one that involves some touching that verges on explicit, but doesn't quite get all the way there. CW for drugging and VERY dubious consent, as well as the usual canon stuff)

“She called us monsters,” Lucille says, breaking the rhythm with a moment of contemplative silence.

Thomas shakes his head. A single stray curl falls away from his face, and Edith wishes she didn’t feel compelled to reach up and tuck it back behind his ear. “We don’t know if she ever knew how right she was.”

mother, we are well by rosedamask (explicit. no major non-canon content warnings)

Edith wondered, then, what a black-breathed beware could ever have meant to her. She could have been the daughter who heard her mother’s warning, or the daughter who heeded it.

The Cherry Hung With Snow by Hermaline75 (explicit. also 84 chapters and still going. content warnings for drugging, descriptions of past child sexual abuse, and reproductive coercion, as well as the usual canon stuff. not one I recommend unreservedly, since it's not my usual thing and has some characterization I disagree with. but...somehow it turned into my comfort fic. the only excuse I can offer for that is that the writing is excellent)

Fresh out of her journalism major, Edith is shocked when she gets the job of a lifetime, following British brother/sister band Crimson Peak on their epic tour to break America, even if it means temporarily leaving her life behind.

But eccentricity is one thing. The Sharpes may be quite another.

#long post #ask #sheathandshear #incest mention #crimson peak #fic recs #character meta #csa mention #reproductive coercion mention #drugging mention

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heloisedaphnebrightmore · 3 years

Text

How to grow your blog - For Beginners!

Since I receive quite a few messages about how I grew my blog and how others could improve theirs, I decided to do this post to help you with whatever knowledge I gathered throughout my time on here.

Disclaimer: These are only my personal observations, there's no proven success if used and they may differ in other people's case.

Things I will discuss below will include;

Interactions

Masterlists / Navigations

Tags

Although I mentioned that tags can be unreliable, they're still a necessity. Search for relevant tags and use them when you post your art. Meanwhile reblogging is the easiest way to get your creations out there, people do regularly search for tags when they wish to see something and the only way they will find you is if your post appears in tags.

If you're not sure whether your tags are working, you can always head to your dashboard, click on the 👤 in the right upper corner, go down to the posts menu and look for the post you want to check on. Once you found it, click on the tag that you would like to search for. If it shows up in the recent tab of the search results, it means the tag is working, but if after 5 minutes of posting it's still not there, you might need to reupload your work. Unfortunately Tumblr has some issues with the tags and it takes two or even three attempts at times to upload something correctly, whilst other times it might work immediately.

On a side note, if you reblog nsfw content or triggering content, you might want to tag those appropriately. Tw food, tw blood, tw. etc. Depends on the content of the triggering post.

You can also create your own tags. Such as "XY's inbox" for your asks or "XY shares" for anything that you reblog from others. This way people can block those tags and see only those posts on your blog that they might find interesting.

Taglists

Taglists aren't a necessity, especially because there are many different ways to notify your followers of new creations, but it's certainly useful. The reason I think taglists are important is because tumblr won't always show your posts on everyone's dashboard, especially if they follow loads of people. However, when you use a taglist, and mention people on your newest posts, they will be able to get a notification of your update.

Of course, if you feel like tagging people might be bothersome, you might create a side-blog where you reblog your posts and people can turn on notifications to be notified of your updates. This option has been rather popular recently, because usually we reblog and post many things on our main blogs and people don't want to get notified about every trivial post, so a side-blog with the most important posts might just be it for you.

Simplicity

This might be confusing so let me be less vague. As I said, we can be rather lazy and that doesn't mean we're bad people, we might just had a difficult day or too much to study or work and we just want easy access to content. Being simple is a necessity. Though it's good to be creative and unique, such as creating a Masterlist that's called "Where the stars shine", it's not obvious for many what is hidden behind those words and they might not be curious enough to check it out. By being simple and obvious, as I said before, you're offering your content on a silver platter. Simple and neat. Sometimes people just need things to be easy to find.

I have been told many times before that my blog is very organised and I feel very proud about that because it means people can find things easily. Of course, it's not proven, but I think that could be a factor in growing your blog. But as I've said, these are only my personal observations.

I hope this helps. Have a nice day :) Heloise Daphne Brightmore

#writing #content creation #writing advice #creator advice #blogging tips #blog writing #content writing #heloise rambles #grow your blog

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xenteaart · 4 years

Text

Black Tights and Other Things

Pairing: Five Hargreeves x Reader

Summary: It was initially insipred by a request about Five seeing Reader wearing a dress for the first time but I lost it, and also took the request in a completely different direction lol. I deeply apologize, I suck at writing requests honestly.

The actual summary: Five catches you dancing and has a little epiphany.

Warnings: this fic explores ideas of femininity and is very likely not gonna be a good read for gender non-conforming folks, so sorry about that.

GIF not mine! if u know the owner pls let me know so i can credit them

Note: it was mainly based on my own experience and i guess i just had to reflect on it smh and Five literally has more of a featured role in this ngl :’D

also yea it fits into my Commission AU so just a reminder, they’re both in their 20s.

P.s. ladies, dance in your underwear in front of a mirror, don’t deprive yourself of reconnecting with your inner,,, divine. lol i’m not in a cult i promise it just feels very good

The one thing you’d missed the most, apart from hot showers, fresh food and other obvious life-saving necessities, was music. During your stay in the absolute nightmare that your post-apocalyptic life was, you weren’t fortunate enough to stumble upon a record player or, in fact, anything that was even remotely fit to produce sounds resembling melodies. Sure, you did play tin cans and pieces of wood out of boredom, making very simplistic copies of actual instruments out of them, like drums or a xylophone, but it was barely enough to satisfy your craving for proper music.

So now, being a Commission recruit and having your own flat and access to the wonders of civilization, you couldn’t help but take advantage of all the things that you’d been longing for, one of them being music.

You and Five were having a very well-deserved day off and decided to reward yourselves with some nice filling dinner. Five volunteered to do the grocery shopping for the ingredients while you chose to stay indoors, and when he came back, holding bags full of goods in his arms, the image that he was met with stopped him dead in his tracks.

You were only wearing your underwear and a pair of black half-transparent tights, which sort of looked like you were getting dressed but got distracted halfway. The outfit itself, or lack thereof, wasn’t at all an unusual occurrence, considering how each other’s nudity and physiology hardly ever bothered either of you after years of doing whatever it took to keep the other alive.

It was your dancing that took Five by surprise. As he eyed your figure briefly, he took notice of how the line of your tights was sitting on your waist securely, framing your form in a flattering way and defining the curves that you got after gaining some weight you’d been desperately missing.

In your days in the apocalypse, you felt like your body was your prison. Or rather, you were a slave of your own body. It needed food, sleep and warmth to keep living, and your entire existence was narrated by the weak and needy vehicle that you had to take care of. There was truly nothing pretty about dull and brutal survival.

Right now, however, you felt yourself regaining control as you were no longer your body’s servant and instead it was yours. It was healthier, stronger, and it was complying to your every wish and command.

As your entire being, mind and flesh, surrendered to the raw ecstasy of your dance, you completely forgot there was anything at all in the world besides yourself and the music, the waves of which you were surfing so smoothly and naturally that the slight clumsiness and awkwardness of some of your movements were only adding to the charm.

There was no choreography behind the action; your every swing and turn being mindless and somewhat intuitive as you allowed yourself to dissolve into the tunes of the song you were dancing to.

As Five was looking at you silently, he was struggling to put his finger on what exactly was so special about what was happening but he knew there was clearly something.

You didn’t really think of yourselves as a boy and a girl, or a man and a woman. Back in the apocalypse, there was hardly anything left of the norms you’d learnt in your before life, which meant you were merely two human beings, completely stripped of their gender identity and expression, and it continued to be the way you perceived each other even after getting back to the normal (well, more or less, all things considered) world.

The concept of having some sort of intrinsic differences was getting more and more blurred as you saw each other as perfectly equal, which you totally were. Equal, however, did not mean the same, and that was exactly what you both tended to forget in your day-to-day life.

As Five was watching you move to the music carefree, he came to realize he was witnessing what he never knew was there in the first place.

It was fair to say that after spending so much time together Five basically knew you inside out. He knew you were caring and thoughtful. Outspoken, ill tempered and tough were a crucial part of the package as well, but right now he felt like he was getting a glimpse of this new unfamiliar layer, looking past everything he thought he knew about you before.

It was the unconditional femininity that was deeply embedded in the very fabric of your essence, burning with radiance like an exploding supernova, and the best thing about it was how blissfully unaware you were of its presence. Right in this moment, it seemed you didn’t have a care in the world and were simply dancing like no one was watching.

There was something so powerful about your inherent feminine nature mixed with how untamed yet tender and perfectly reliable you were, that Five didn’t even notice he’d been holding his breath.

He didn’t want to startle you and disrupt the flow you were so clearly lost in, literally immersed in some other dimension that he had no way of ever coming in contact with. It was yours and yours only, and it was beautiful.

Five was just standing there, leaning against the doorframe utterly mesmerized by how your body was seemingly guided and led by an invisible force. It took him a good couple of minutes to realize that this force was coming from within you, and the sheer unfiltered power radiating from your figure was, in fact, you all along. And he finally saw you for what you were. A woman.

“Oh, God,” he thought to himself, unable to deal with the sudden surge of feelings and thoughts that were overwhelming him all at once.

#five hargreeves x reader #number five x reader #five hargreeves x you #number five x you #tua fic #my fic #my writing #five hargreeves #number five #The Umbrella Academy

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mysticpetals · 3 years

Text

Farewell, sunshine

𝙋𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜: Jake × f!mc (Syianne)

𝙂𝙚𝙣𝙧𝙚: angst, a sprinkle of fluff

𝙒𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩: 4.9k (oof)

𝙎𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮: All Jake ever wanted was to find his sister and protect the person who had helped him more than anyone. Only, he slowly began to realise that bringing Syianne into this had caused more harm than good.

𝙒𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: mentions of blood, physical attack, violence, hospitals, medical coma, panic attack.

𝙋𝙧𝙤𝙢𝙥𝙩𝙨: Anonymous asked: 5. “Wake up! Please wake up.” MC and Jake finally get to meet for the first time, but everything is heavily dipped in angst. 😂 Also I adore your writing and keep up the good work!

Anonymous asked: Can you give us the most angsty jealous filled over protective short with Jake x MC i want all the ANGST to be seeping out of my screen

@mnrangera asked: Here's a nice angsty scenario for you: MC is in Duskwood continuing their investigation but is caught out in town after dark. They are on the phone with Jake when they are attacked by the Man Without a Face like Jessie was.

𝙉𝙤𝙩𝙚𝙨: I know this has been LOOOOONG overdue and I apologise for the wait. Thank you to all my followers for being patient, especially those who sent the requests in. I hope the long wait is worth it and you enjoy it. Also, please read the warnings before proceeding, I don't want any of you to be triggered by something I wrote. There may be inaccuracies in how I progressed medical conditions and general working of the hospitals so I apologise for that. Please do not repost or translate this fic anywhere else!! I'm literally begging you, please don't ruin my hard work like this. I would love if I could get some sort of feedback, whether it be reblogs or comments or just anon asks. I've tried to improve my writing and I hope it shows a little in this. This is my Christmas and New Year present all wrapped in one! I hope you all have a great 2021 <3

It was a cold, winter evening with the sky painted in a plethora of warm colors and Jake felt like finally things were going his way.

He, along with Syianne, had been working tirelessly for the past few weeks to find out what happened to Hannah. They had faced a lot of challenges along the way, with cryptic diary entries and threats directed towards them and their loved ones, but still, they'd prevailed and spent every ounce of free time, getting more information about Hannah's perpetrator.

They finally had the facts about what happened the day she was kidnapped and only the identity of the criminal was hidden. Syianne had suggested that she should go to Duskwood to try and find the last puzzle piece, to which Jake had been a little apprehensive. She argued that the rest of the group had already been through enough, with getting stalked and receiving threats and insisted that she should be the one to carry out her search in secret.

She never once asked for him to come along because she knew how dangerous it would be for him and she didn't want him to get caught. Jake was instantly warmed by the thought that someone cared so much about him, to think of his well being first.

So that night, as she called him to update him on her findings and plan after she went to Duskwood, he found himself speaking his thoughts impulsively.

"What if I came too?"

There was silence on the other end and Jake thought he might have overstepped or made it weird but she answered before he could stammer an apology.

"I'd like that. But only if you're comfortable and safe."

She told him to ruminate on it for a while and bid him goodnight. Jake thought about whether it was a logical thing to do. If Syianne planned to go undercover, he couldn't very well let her go into the lion's den alone. So he made up his mind and texted Syianne to let her know.

Jake [10:46 pm]

I'll come to Duskwood too.

Is it okay if we don't meet straight away?

I...I don't think I'm ready yet.

Syianne [10:47 pm]

I was lowkey hoping you'd say that ahaha

And of course! Take as much time as you need :)

That night, he slept with a smile on his face, excitement churning in his stomach.

⊱⋅ ──────────── ⋅⊰

Syianne was looking forward to her trip to Duskwood.

She knew it was a potentially dangerous situation and she was only going there to investigate but knowing that Jake might be there too, sent a spark of thrill through her body. They had been speaking non-stop for the past few weeks and she really liked talking to him. His answers to questions about him or his life were adorably confusing and Syianne realized that she really wanted to get to know him, be his friend or possibly something more, if their flirty banter was anything to go by.

Her bag contained all the essentials she could need, along with a sketchbook and pencils to use in case of boredom. She couldn't leave Matrix with any of her friends as they were either busy or allergic to cats so her only option was to take her along.

She had never booked a flight so fast. Knowing she would have to take a car from the airport to the rest of the way to Duskwood did nothing to damper her excitement. She couldn't wait to meet everyone once they found Hannah, some more so than the others.

The trip was nothing eventful, just a lot of travelling and it made Syianne a little tired but the idea of meeting her friends and finally putting a stop to all this madness, made her keep going. She wouldn't admit it if you asked her but she was looking forward to possibly seeing Jake as well. She knew he might not be comfortable enough to meet her yet and she completely respected that, but the thought still lingered.

She checked in to the only hotel Duskwood had, not meeting the receptionist's - Lilly's - eyes and was eternally grateful that she had only leaked her number and not her photo in that video. It would have been much more difficult to move about Duskwood, if that were the case.

The room they had was pretty basic, but not too bad for a few nights. Matrix prowled around the room, getting herself comfortable in the new environment while Syianne slowly unpacked the few clothes and necessities she brought.

In the corner of her mind, there was the thought that Jake might be staying at this hotel too and that sent a shiver of excitement down her spine. But she was a woman of her word and would wait until Jake was ready and would not try to look for him.

She had a mission here and she wanted to be damn sure that that's what she would be focusing on and save Hannah.

⊱⋅ ──────────── ⋅⊰

Jake was supposed to be in Duskwood about two nights ago.

He had encountered some issues with removing his tracks from the internet, as well as trying to find a safe way to drive to Duskwood without exposing himself. Working as a hacker did have some benefits and finally he managed to find a guy who made him three fake number plates that he would interchange every once in a while, so his whereabouts couldn't be traced.

He had let Syianne know of the unexpected delay but to his surprise, she was enjoying herself in Duskwood. She had told him that Jessy gave her a virtual tour of the town once and she was excited to explore all those places in person. She talked to him at night, describing the beauty of the small town and Jake felt himself growing wistful, wondering what they could do together if he had been there. But then again, hadn't he said that he wouldn't show himself right now? He was cautious - just as he had been all his life - but something about Syianne just made him want to let his guard down, to just be selfish for once.

He had no time to think further on it because finally, all the preparations and precautionary measures were done and he could drive to Duskwood. He couldn't leave Glitch at home because he had attachment issues and couldn't go without Jake for a long period of time. So he ushered him into his carrier and told him he could claw all the wood he wanted when they reached their destination and Glitch meowed in agreement. He had always been a smart cat, after all.

Changing the number plates every hour was exhausting, especially when he didn't do much manual work but he endured it, if it meant he was one step closer to finding his sister.

When he finally reached Duskwood, he was in awe of how normal it looked, how silent; how someone who didn't know that a girl had been kidnapped would think of this place as the perfect getaway. But he knew better, didn't he? This town held dark secrets, secrets that people weren't willing to acknowledge and he was going to expose them for what they were, no matter what it took.

Signing into the Duskwood hotel was as awkward as he imagined it to be, his half sister having no idea who he was and looking at his dark, baggy clothes suspiciously. He wasn't blaming her, he would have probably done the same if a strange man came out of nowhere to stay in Duskwood of all places. Lilly gave him a tight smile as he picked up his bag and key and made way to his room.

Syianne had texted him earlier that day that she would be checking out the lake in the evening, where Jessy was attacked. Jake was against it from the start but he should have known how stubborn she could be and eventually, he had to agree but only on the condition that she stays on video call with him the whole time. Syianne was evidently bewildered by his request, judging by the way she kept writing and erasing her reply but after a while, she managed to ask if he would be comfortable with that. Jake's heart warmed at her considerate words, never really having anyone who would care about his emotions, he was always surprised when Syianne said something like that. He replied that he would just turn off his camera or point it at the lamp or something but he had to be sure about her safety.

And that's why, he was sitting with his phone in front of him in the evening, camera turned off as he watched her fondly, pointing out the strange birds she saw.

"Ah, I wish you were here! The lake is so pretty this time and the light from sunset is reflecting off the water and it makes an amazing view," she said, voice breathy with the exertion of walking for a while and a tone of awe towards the scene in front of her.

"That's sufficient sightseeing, don't you think?" Her voice suddenly took a serious note and Jake straightened up in his chair. He was afraid but couldn't say anything. He had already agreed to let her go with a condition and he feared if he asked her to not investigate, she would probably end the call and keep looking for clues by herself. At least on the phone, he could look at her surroundings and made sure no one sneaked up on her.

"If you say so," he said half-heartedly, glancing at the surroundings behind her as she narrowed her eyes at his dismissive tone.

The next twenty minutes were spent with Syianne looking around the lake and Jake looking over her shoulder virtually. She had scouted the edge and went a little deeper into the forest, looking for a car, a boat, a mask - anything, really - but the search had proved to be futile so far. Everything was as peaceful as ever, no signs of any disturbance and it made Jake a little antsy. Nothing was ever this perfect.

"Well, since we can't find anything here, I think you should come back. It's getting late," Jake said, looking at the already darkened sky. It was an ominous red color and Jake was getting more and more worried as people left the lakeside.

Syianne frowned but didn't argue and that made him sigh in relief.

"Yeah, you're right. No use trying to find something that isn't there," she said and started walking again.

"Wait, you walked here? Didn't you bring your car?" Jake asked and she shook her head.

"Nope, I wanted to enjoy Duskwood and being in a car wouldn't have helped," she smiled at the camera and Jake let out an almost inaudible sigh. Why couldn't she care about her safety a little more? She was going to give him grey hair before he reached his thirties, that was for sure.

As he began to reply to her, he caught movement from the left side of the screen and instantly grabbed his phone, expanding the background.

There was a silhouette of a hand.

"Syianne, run!" He shouted, as the figure's arm came into view and she looked back in surprise before starting to sprint, the camera shaking from her movements.

Jake scrambled to get his car keys, not bothering with what he was wearing and ran towards the hotel parking, getting into his car and connecting the GPS to his phone, all the while listening to Syianne's panting breaths as she ran away from the man without a face.

Getting her location was no problem for him and he just hoped he would arrive there on time.

"Jake, I'm scared. I'm hiding behind a big building and I think he went on ahead," she whispered, voice shaky and trembling and Jake's hands gripped the steering wheel tightly as he glanced over at his phone to watch her looking around herself in a panic.

Five more minutes and he would reach her location. Jake had never been more thankful that Duskwood was a small town and the hotel wasn't so far away from the lake.

"I'm coming, Syianne. Just a little while more and we'll go back together."

"Okay, I think I'm safe for now," she said. There was a sound of slow careful footsteps as Syianne came out from behind the building.

The abrupt sound of a gasp almost made him lose control of the steering wheel and he increased his speed as he heard what sounded like a scuffle. Syianne had probably dropped her phone because it only showed the dark sky and sounds of her struggling against her attacker.

"No! Let–"

Jake let out a harsh breath, jaw tightening as he heard Syianne's scream. He drove straight for a bit and turned the next corner and saw the man trying once again to restrain her. His eyes saw red and he honked and honked like it was nobody's business, speeding towards them.

The man without a face seemed to have realised that someone was coming to help as he pushed Syianne roughly into the wall and ran away towards the forest. As much as Jake wanted to go after him, Syianne was his first priority and he quickly got out of the car, dashing towards her crumpled form, lying on the ground.

He fumbled with his phone, calling the local police and asking for an ambulance, his body shaking all the while, as he knelt down next to Syianne.

He felt tears welling in her eyes as he looked at her battered form and realised that she was bleeding.

"Syianne?" He spoke in a scared voice.

"Syianne!" He said more forcefully, repeatedly patting her face in hope she'll look at him but her eyes were still glassy and unfocused as if she couldn't comprehend anything.

"I'm...so sorry. I…" her voice trailed off as she struggled to breathe and Jake cried, seeing her in so much pain, when he couldn't do anything except wait for the ambulance to arrive.

After a moment, Syianne's eyes fluttered closed and Jake's panic rose to new heights.

"No, no, no! Wake up! Please wake up!" He shouted and begged but she didn't respond to his calls.

His hand was soaked in her blood from where he was applying pressure on the wound at her side. The blood hadn't stopped flowing and Jake was worried that she was losing too much, too soon.

"What do I do? What do I do?" He muttered to himself, adrenaline coursing through his veins, with only one thought in his head – to save her.

He heard sirens in the distance and was relieved to know that help was coming. He pushed up the fallen hood of his jacket up on his head and looked at Syianne for any signs of consciousness. Her breaths were shallow and eyes still closed.

Soon enough, paramedics rushed to the scene and immediately started tending to Syianne's wounds. Jake felt as if he was just a spectator, not being able to do anything but watch. Someone came up to him and started asking him questions, about how he found her, who he was to her and if he knew anything about the attack. He answered all the questions as carefully as he could, giving a fake name, because he still wasn't sure if the police department was in league with the kidnapper or not.

As soon as he was done with the questioning, a paramedic approached him, letting him know that they were taking Syianne to the hospital and he would have to come there for a bit of paperwork. Jake hesitated and said he'd drive there in his own car and the paramedic nodded in response and left.

He got in his car and put his head in his hands, shaking at the unfortunate turn of events. This wasn't how it was supposed to go. Syianne was just going to check out the lake and then surprise her friends the next day by telling them she'd be here for a few days and enjoy Duskwood together.

Jake was even thinking of meeting her in person and telling her that she had changed his life for the better. But his cowardice, his meticulous nature to not let anyone know who he was or where he was might have cost Syianne her life tonight. Even thinking about it had tears pooling in his eyes and he took a deep breath to bite back the sobs that were threatening to break once again.

He felt guilty, so so guilty and couldn't bring himself to start the car. He was pretty sure that if – no when – Syianne woke up, she would want nothing to do with the man who put her life in danger. With that thought rooted in his mind, he opened his phone and with trembling hands, sent Jessy a text about Syianne's accident. He received a reply almost immediately.

Jessy [8:46 pm]

What?

How did she come here?

You know what? If she's not okay, I'm going to hunt you down and make you pay.

Jake had no trouble believing she was telling the truth. All he wanted to do was help and now everything was falling apart. Taking a deep but shaky breath, he started the car but instead of going to the hospital, he turned towards the hotel.

⊱⋅ ──────────── ⋅⊰

Jessy had no trouble believing that the hacker was telling the truth. His texts were frantic and he practically begged her to go to the hospital to see Syianne. She had no idea how she got here, but hearing that she got attacked, just like she was, was enough to make her worry and drive to the hospital, after letting Cleo know. She figured that the rest of them deserved to know too.

She rushed to the front desk, breathless and worried, and one of the nurses told Jessy that the doctors were with Syianne and she'd have to wait until they were done to know how she was.

After some time of relentless pacing, Cleo arrived and Jessy filled her in on everything that the hacker told her, which wasn't much, but it gave them a good idea of what had happened. Cleo said that she hadn't told anyone else yet and that they should do so as soon as the doctors had an update on Syianne's condition.

About an hour later, a nurse came upto Jessy and Cleo, asking if they knew Syianne and upon their confirmation, led them to the room she was kept in. They weren't allowed to enter yet as the doctors were still in the room, but Jessy gasped when she saw Syianne's scratched up face, with bandages covering her head.

"Oh my gosh." Cleo breathed and Jessy felt a rush of sorrow as she averted her eyes.

The doctors after completing their examination, told them that Syianne was stabbed in the side but luckily it didn't puncture anything important and they closed up the wound to allow it to heal. What was more concerning, was the fact that she was hit on the back of her head.

"She most likely suffered from a concussion, in which case, it is of the utmost importance that the patient doesn't fall asleep," the doctor said and Jessy and Cleo looked at each other uneasily.

"But Syianne fell asleep…" Jessy began and the doctor gave her an apologetic smile.

"That's right. She was unconscious when she was brought here. The superficial wounds are taken care of, we just don't know when she'll wake up."

Both of them were too stunned to say anything and a call for the doctor from one of the nurses broke them out of their stupor.

"So, she's in a coma?" Cleo asked.

The doctor hesitated before answering.

"Essentially, yes. But we can't know for sure without further observation. If the injury isn't severe she'll wake up soon, we just have to monitor her constantly and look for any changes." He then walked off when his pager went off, most likely to see another patient.

"Don't worry, Jessy. She'll wake up soon," Cleo said, placing a hand on her shoulder, as they looked into Syianne's room, seeing her sleeping peacefully, as if nothing was wrong and she was just taking a nap.

⊱⋅ ──────────── ⋅⊰

As soon as she got home from the hospital, Jessy sent out a row of furious texts to the hacker, clouded by her anger and hopelessness. In her head, it was all his fault that Syianne was twittering between life and death. He was the one who asked her to come to Duskwood without letting any of them know, which caused her to be in such a terrible condition.

Everything was crumbling.

They were a tight knit group, always there for each other but when did it turn into a nightmare, Jessy didn't know. Emotion overtook her and she suddenly collapsed against the wall, keeping a hand on her mouth to muffle her sobs, and cried.

She cried for Hannah, who she had no idea whether she was alive or not. She cried for Syianne, who had become such a great friend to her. Most importantly, she cried for her relationship with everyone, that was slowly but surely, withering away.

⊱⋅ ──────────── ⋅⊰

Jake had been pacing in his hotel room ever since getting back, waiting on a word from Jessy. Glitch watched him with big eyes, as he stubbed his on the bedside and cursed. Sighing in defeat, Jake realised that it won't do any good to worry himself to death, but that didn't mean that his mind didn't drift off to the earlier scene.

Syianne lying on the ground. Blood pooled around her.

He shook his head in frustration, trying to get that image out of his head but to no success. Glitch, sensing that something was wrong, strolled towards him, rubbing and purring against his legs. Jake softened at seeing his efforts to calm him and he picked Glitch up, moving to lay down on the bed. He petted him, smiling at the way the cat burrowed himself further against Jake, curling his tail around his wrist.

After a few peaceful moments of cuddling, Jake's phone lit up with a text, which had him scrambling to grab it from the bedside. Glitch meowed in protest but Jake was too wound up to notice.

Jessy [10:25 pm]

She's in a coma

They don't know when she'll wake up

Jake felt all breath leave him as he read Jessy's text. He didn't know what to think, what to do, what he could do. Jessy didn't give him a chance to respond.

Jessy [10:26 pm]

Don't contact any of us ever again

I don't want to find Hannah this way…which leads to everyone else getting hurt

Please leave Syianne out of this

Saying her mind, Jessy went offline again. Jake took a shaky breath, trying to ground himself. Syianne might never make up.

No, he told himself.

He couldn't think like that. He knew she'd wake up, it might take a little time but she will. Because if she didn't, Jake wouldn't be able to live with himself.

He got another text from Lilly, saying she was sorry that it happened but he couldn't bring himself to write back. His mind was empty, body numb to everything around him and he was cursing himself for being so careless.

If he hadn't been so selfish, if only he didn't put all of this on her, if he had just reached on time, if, if, if.

That's all he thought of, as tears continuously trailed down his cheeks, an arm covering his eyes, the only thing on his mind being Syianne, just as it had been ever since he started talking to her.

⊱⋅ ──────────── ⋅⊰

The next day, Jake found himself holding a large flower bouquet and walking to Duskwood hospital's reception. He was trembling, scared out of his mind but he just had to see Syianne. So, he had braved his anxiety and was now standing in front of the receptionist, who looked at the abnormally large bouquet in his hands and raised an eyebrow. He cleared his throat.

"I'm here to see Syianne King, she was admitted here yesterday."

The receptionist's gaze sharpened as she looked him over and he partially hid behind the flowers.

"Only family members are allowed to visit," she spoke slowly and Jake bit his lip in frustration.

"I'm her fiance," he said and before the surprised receptionist could say anything, he continued, "I drove here as soon as I got the call but they wouldn't tell me what happened. Only that Syianne had been in an accident and I needed to get here as soon as I could and I—" he cut himself off, shuffling nervously and wiping away the tears that had managed to escape from his eyes.

The receptionist softened, seeing his genuine sorrow and care for his fiance and warmed her voice.

"Of course, I'm sorry for what happened. She's in room 309, third floor. The elevator is down the hall," she pointed and Jake thanked her profusely before walking ahead.

Him being Syianne's fiance might have been fake but everything he had felt was the truth and he felt overwhelmed now that he was here. Should he see her? Did he even deserve to see her after he put her in danger? Thoughts like this plagued his mind all the way to Syianne's room and they only stopped when he saw '309' written in bold letters on a grey coloured door.

His breath stuttered in his chest. He was second guessing his presence in the hospital, thinking whether he shouldn't have come. He stood in front of the door for about ten minutes, contemplating but when the nurses started giving him suspicious looks, he swallowed thickly and with shaky hands, opened the door.

Nothing could have prepared him for the utter despair and helplessness he felt, as he saw Syianne's motionless form on the bed, breathing as if she was just sleeping and would wake up any minute. But he knew that wasn't the truth.

She was here and it was his fault.

For the longest time, he just sat on a chair beside her bed and just looked at her. His eyes traced every injury, every bruise that was visible and he felt sick, blaming himself for letting it happen. She was still sleeping and suddenly, it just got too much.

There was too much light, too much beeping, the walls were too white, the flowers in his hands digging into his skin and he got up hastily, dropping the bouquet and backed into the furthest corner of the room.

His breath was coming in short bursts, it hurt to breath, to think, to stay upright—!

His legs gave from under him and he slid down, back against the wall, shaking hands coming up to wipe the wetness on his face.

He didn't even realise he had been crying.

His vision was a blur of dark shapes and in a distinct corner of his head that was still sane, he thought of what Syianne would have done had she been awake. He was sure she would kneel down in front of him and take his hands, running her thumbs against the back of his hands to calm him.

'Breathe slowly, Jake. Deep breaths with me, come on,' he heard her in his head and tried to slow down, breathing harshly at first but after a few minutes, his vision cleared and his breathing stabled to an acceptable rate.

His whole body shook with the sheer suddenness of the panic attack and he slowly tried to get up, holding onto the wall as a support as his gaze, once again, landed on the bed and it's occupant.

All at once, his head cleared and he knew what to do.

Snatching a sheet of paper from the notepad lying near her chart, Jake penned his thoughts, all his anguish, and his apologies on it. Not once did his hand shake as he wrote the note and not once did his mind waver from the decision he had made. At last, when he had said everything he wanted to, he put the pen down and glanced at Syianne's peaceful face.

His throat closed up but he swallowed once to make sure he didn't cry. No, Jake had no time for tears. It was his fault that this happened in the first place, so it was his responsibility that he would make it right.

He didn't know when she would wake but whenever it might be, Jake had everything he wanted to say, already written for her.

He bent down towards her and placed the softest of kisses against her forehead, knowing that it would be the only time he would ever get to do it.

She did not open her eyes and Jake stepped back with a miniscule tilt of his lips.

Yes, he would make everything right.

#duskwood #duskwood jake #everbyte duskwood #duskwood game #everbyte #jake × mc #duskwood jake × mc #jake × player #duskwood fanfic #duskwood fanfiction #duskwood jake × mc fanfic #viotence tw #physical attack tw #coma tw #blood tw #panic attack tw #please read the warnings carefully!!#and i hope you enjoy it ❤️

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penfullofwordsaheadfullofstories · 4 years

Text

So We Refuse To Take it Tragically

A/N: I’ve just accepted my fate is to be obsessed with this man, so here’s yet another Obi-Wan fic. There will be a second part to this, and I’m thinking a mini series of in-between moments. I won’t give spoilers, but this is NOT my normal type of fic, but he’s an exception to every rule in my book, apparently. Thank you to @caffeine-in-an-iv for being my beta on this, I don’t know where this would be without you!

Thank you also to @beskars for her post here that birthed this. Always blessing us with fuel for the thirst.

And to the one I know IRL that found my tumblr, one I will refer to as Top Voice, this is your final warning to gtfo before feasting your eyes on unprecedented filth and sap.

Pairing: Obi-Wan Kenobi x Force sensitive! Fem Reader (no Y/N)

Warnings: SMUT!!! Cumeating, hair pulling, Comfort Sex, ANGST!! (It has a happy ending later, I promise, but it starts after ROTS, so it’s par for the course) If you’re gonna write not-particularly-pertinent-to-plot-porn, might as well make it unnecessarily detailed, right? As usual, too many feelings for porn, More warnings will be in the tags to prevent spoilers

Title from one of my favorite quotes:

“Ours is essentially a tragic age, so we refuse to take it tragically. The cataclysm has happened, we are among the ruins, we start to build up new little habitats, to have new little hopes. It is rather hard work: there is now no smooth road into the future: but we go round, or scramble over the obstacles. We’ve got to live, no matter how many skies have fallen.”

-D.H. Lawrence

Tatooine is no place for a baby.

There are no soft surfaces, nor comforts, nor surplus of anything. It’s desolate and deprived and oppressive, but you watch as Obi-Wan shields the child from its harsh, sand-pelting winds with his whole body, despite the fact the child fits in the space between his wrist and elbow. It’s overzealous, but you don’t say anything of it.

The past two days have ripped away nearly everything he held dear, insisting on devastating every tender place. Nothing sacred has been left untouched.

He broke the code long before he met you, and you know part of why his love for you came so easily, why he had no qualms with breaking his vows, was because he’d long since loved the man that became his family in every way that matters.

Love and Light so tightly knit together the fabric of his being one could not be separated from the other.

And you could take on the entire Force with your two fists for how it had rewarded him for it with Hate and Darkness coming from someone so close it shattered something foundational in Obi-Wan.

Yet even now, there isn’t Darkness surrounding his signature. There’s brokenness and his ever-present equilibrium has been replaced by jagged shards. But despite it all, those rugged pieces still reflect light erratically in their shine.

It’s a loss and betrayal that spans many different planes: on one level, there’s nowhere you look in the galaxy beyond just the two of you that isn’t marked by the Empire’s rise in power, marking the end of the Republic he fought for and the fall of the Jedi, his community, comrades, and only home he’d ever known. And on another level, you’ve seen the weight of war and worse in Obi-Wan’s eyes, but nothing, nothing like this.

The pain is panoramic, but it’s also profoundly personal.

Even still, his attention isn’t on himself, but on the fussy bundle in his arms.

You wonder: is it the galaxy that doesn’t allow this man time to heal? Or is it his own choice to throw himself into the need of others so he has a tangible reason to avoid his own torments?

When he places the baby into the arms of the young couple, you know the times ahead will give the answer to that.

Because there aren't the cries of the past few nights to wake either of you, there’s silence.

You long to fill it, to try to bridge this insurmountable void with something, anything you could say. But you know it’s bigger than you. So, so much bigger than you.

Monumental obstacles and tremendous loss find themselves standing in the threshold of an abandoned hut smaller than your flat was on Coruscant.

“Well… it’s not much to look at, certainly. But the moisture vaporator seems to be in repairable condition, and we’re just far enough from town to avoid any curious neighbors. What do you think?” He turns to you, and his eyes, dark circles under and all, turn sharp in their assessment of your response.

“I told you. I’m going wherever you are so long as you’ll let me.” Your voice is gentle but adamant as you remind him.

He walks up from the living room to the threshold of the kitchen where you are, wrapping his arms loosely around your waist. “Be that as it may, I’m asking your input on where we’re going, or living, as your happiness means a great deal to me.”

There’s still no smile, but it’s the brightest his energy has felt since the last time you saw him before he came to your door in Coruscant days ago, whispering a rushed, heartfelt farewell, which you quickly countered with an emphatic, unshakable, “I’m coming with you.”

You look up at him, gliding your hand across his cheek into the hair at the nape of his neck. There’s Darkness at the door of his soul that he’s fighting off every moment, and he has the audacity to speak of your happiness.

You don’t dare bring up his. It’s irony, at best.

So you smile, timid, knowing the gesture in itself might be blasphemous to the tone, but genuine all the same. “We can make a life here. I know we can.”

He scans your eyes, looking to find the authenticity in your statement. “Are you certain?”

He’s not asking about the hut anymore. Or, at least, not just the hut.

“Obi-Wan, I never had any delusion that any life I had with you would be easy. I thought I’d only ever be getting you in secret, sparse moments. Although I’d never, ever wish for it to be under the circumstances that it is, having you like this is better than I ever hoped.”

There’s silence as he processes your words, then a wry twist of his features. “How I wish that your expectations needn’t be so low.”

“No, no, that’s not what I meant.” You incline your head, trying to find the words to convey what you mean.

“Nothing any person or any planet anywhere has to offer me holds a candle to what I’ve found in you, nor will it ever. I’d never trade unshakable wholeness for the transience of materialistic happiness.”

You know this has to resound with him. Is it not within the core set of values he was taught to forsake comfort in any avenue for something far greater?

His eyes flick between yours, gauging, and you can feel him reaching out to feel at your signature to solidify the truth.

If you knew him any less, you might be insulted at his questioning of your trustworthiness. But it’s not you he doesn’t trust. It’s something good willingly giving itself to him that causes his wariness.

The Force can have your middle finger along with your fists.

Then he’s relaxing into you, letting out an exhale that seems heavy with more than just air, and burying his nose in your hair for his next inhale.

****

By the end of the day, you’ve gathered enough supplies for basic necessities and to start on the repairs of the hut. You both snarf down a ration bar before shortly thereafter clearing the blown-in sand off what must have been the bed of the home. It’s a half circle indenture in the wall, and it has a dip obviously made for a mattress or cushion of some sort, but as all that’s available are the blankets bought in town today, you set to fluffing them to some semblance of comfort.

Fatigue pulls you into it far sooner than the suns setting. Last night was your first night without Luke, spent in a room you rented in town. Today was spent traveling to and from the hut, discussing details on what needs to be done, and you? You are absolutely exhausted. You can only imagine what he must feel like.

Obi-Wan secures the lock on the door before sitting on the side of the bed, looking off into nothing for a long, long moment.

You push up to your side, placing a hand on his back. “Obi…”

His shoulder nudges toward your hand, but he cuts you off. “It’s going to get quite cold when the suns set, and since the stove isn’t properly ventilating yet, we’re going to have to work with body heat.”

“I’ll try to mask my reluctance,” you retort.

He turns his face to you then, and just a smidge of humor sweeps across his eyes before he sheds his cloak, followed by everything else until only his pants remain. You’ve long since stripped down to your own sleeping comfort level, so before he can fold his cloak along with the rest of his discarded clothing, you take it and cover yourself with it.

He shakes his head a little at you once he’s done, settling down next to you, throwing the covers over both of you.

“Tell me what you need.” You’re face to face with him, but his expression is unreadable.

“I… I don’t know.” He considers you as if you held the answer to the question you just asked him.

“What about want, then? What do you want, Obi-Wan?” You wish he didn’t have his shields perpetually raised these days. It’d be so much easier to just read his energy.

His hand reaches up so he can stroke your cheek with his thumb. “You’re tired, darling. Rest.”

Ah, there it is. If the answer to the question of desire is him counter offering his own response with the fact you’re tired…

“So are you. But you still want.” You press your body fully against his, dropping your voice down to a whisper. “And so do I.”

You won’t push anymore than that, letting him take or leave the invitation. For you, it’s not even a question. It’s been four months since you last saw him. Since you’d last felt his touch.

You’d spent the last few nights in each other’s arms, but between Luke's shrill cries and the deafening devastation of the events of the days prior, it’d been just that: sleep. Or, what tousled, disturbed counterfeit the circumstance offered you both.

For him, though, there’s an abysmal weariness that digs far beyond lack of sleep, and you don’t dare infringe upon him in any way.

But there’s still a longing present, and even without his Force signature to guide you into his feelings, he can’t hide his eyes.

You watch the moment he makes a decision solidify across his countenance right before he presses his lips against yours. You sigh into it, letting the draw of his skin on yours pull you into orbit.

Because that’s exactly what happens. It’s a kiss for a kiss’ sake, for flavor and fervency and the fullness of each other, but it quickly gains its own momentum when his tongue parts your lips truly.

It’s an acute absence. Not having his energy surrounding you with his shields so far up. But it also gives sharp attention to the press of skin against skin, makes it an anchor and an outlet for all that is still too tender to even acknowledge.

You find grip in his hair, purposefully running your hands the opposite of the way he combs it as he takes your face in both hands and pulls you into him all the more.

When you both need to breathe, he only moves so far away that his lips still brush against yours on every exhale. “I..” he starts, then stops.

The hand still in his hair rakes through it gently, scratching your fingertips against his scalp as you wait for him to complete his thought.

“Let me taste you,” he says at last. You know it's a question from the way he stills, waiting for permission, but it’s phrased as nothing like it.

You raise an eyebrow. “Is that a rhetorical quest…”

“Oh, hush.” He’s already nudging you over onto your back, situating his body over yours, claiming your lips again. You allow yourself to sink into it, cherishing his weight over you, his hand roaming your ribcage, before pulling back to speak.

“I’m sorry, are you now getting on to me for my sass? Because… oh!”

He finds a nipple through the thin fabric of your shirt, pinching softly with a small tug.

“By all means, continue. I was most intrigued.” His smirk is back, but it fixes you with a tinge of worry when it again proves to be a smile only skin deep.

You place two fingers just shy of his forehead, but he catches your wrist in an almost painful clasp. The alarm casted by his expression quickly is washed away by a carefully constructed impassiveness, and your heart sinks.

He has to see it, because he bows his head in apology. “Not tonight.”

And before you have any room to respond, he’s shifting himself down as he lifts your shirt up, placing a single taunting, wet kiss on each nipple before moving even further down, nipping at the skin right below your belly button.

He’s distracting you from what he’s not allowing you access to, and you know it, and you let him anyway. That’s what this is, isn’t it? Distraction from the barrage of the mind. If that’s what he needs, that’s what you’ll give.

As he toys with the hem of your underthings, and you lift your hips to assist their removal, you realize it’s exactly what you need too.

Except he apparently isn’t planning to remove your underwear at all. With a casual flick of his hand, your legs are parted and held like that with a no-nonsense sprout of Force energy. Then he’s simply pulling the cloth to the side and brings his mouth torturously closer, but stops just before contact.

You push up to your elbows to tell him you can’t take much of those teasing breaths he’s taking, blowing hot air against sensitive nerve endings. But when you hear his breath stutter as he just looks, unhurried in admiration, you decide against it, even as you flush at the undivided attention. Sprawling his palms out over your inner thighs, he dips down to press his mouth between his fingers, sucking not-so-gently into the soft skin, sending the flesh into tremors before he’s even really done anything to you.

He says your name as he opens you up with his fingers, parting your folds so everything is bared to his view. You start to squirm, the exposure starting to feel a little too heady, and you’re starting to appeal with the beginning of his name when he leans forward, straight away connecting his lips to your clit. You try to thrust up into it as some shameful noise leaves you, but there’s only so much movement you have with your legs still pinned.

He loves to tease, so you don’t expect him to retract the energy that constricted your legs at the first resistance. Instead, he slides his hands under your ass, pulling you on to his tongue and lets you push your hips into him unchecked.

He hums at your enthusiasm, the reverberation sending your hands into his hair again, which gifts you with even more noises from him.

It doesn’t take long at all, and you’re coming undone on his tongue, biting into your forearm to dampen your cry.

He doesn’t stop until you push at his shoulder, signaling your tender surrender. He obeys, looking up at you from between your thighs, absolutely besotted, eyes shining a shade brighter than before.

Then. Obi-Wan Kenobi keeps his eyes on yours before dipping his head and tilting his jaw, running his beard right where you’re still open and vulnerable, abrasion grating in a way you know you’ll be feeling all day tomorrow.

He licks his lips as he moves back up to kiss you again, letting you taste yourself on him.

He goes easily when you gesture for him to lie on his back so you can straddle him, carefully avoiding any contact where he’s throbbing for you. His hands fall right to your waist, stroking gently as he waits for you to initiate.

You focus your study on the section of his hair that’s fallen in his face, twirling a finger in it, happy to have anywhere to look but his eyes.

He’d normally at least be in your mind by now, and even though you understand it, well, the drought of it is as appropriate for the planet as anything.

You remember too late to raise your own shields against any accidentally too-loud thoughts, as Obi-Wan cups his hand on your chin, forcing your gaze to his, saying your name quietly in calling.

“You have to know, it isn’t anything to do with…”

You interrupt him. “No. No. I won’t have you addressing my insecurities of all things in light of…”

“Please listen, love. I need you to know, it hasn’t anything to do with the love I have for you. That hasn’t changed and never will. I think I need… “ He pauses, solemn in thought. “Time,” he finishes finally.

You knew this already in the pit of your stomach, but hearing him say it, hearing him affirm that it isn’t you insufficiency… you hate that you needed it as much as you did.

And if he needs time? That’s what you’ll give. But he also has a want, evidenced by the brush of him against you when you scoot yourself down his torso.

You take the hem of his pants with you when you continue down, ridding him of them and his shorts. But when you wrap your hand around him and begin to lower your mouth, he grips your chin again, shaking his head.

“I can’t… please, just.” It’s always an anomaly when he’s at a loss for words, usually ever-so articulate.

A gasp chokes out of you when you feel the phantom of his mind. Not in full, no. With barriers, and it’s projected out, not at all the same sensation to being within it.

It’s desperation. For how long it’s been, for how drained he feels, how he’s not sure how long this will last, and how much he yearns to be inside you.

There’s not even a second of debate in your mind as you take your position on his lap again, lifting your hips, intention apparent. He takes his cock in hand, holding steady so you can start to seat yourself onto the thick push of him.

The hitch in his breath is your only warning before he seizes the undersides of your thighs, halting you from taking him any further.

His eyes are tightly shut, and you know from watching him before that his facial expression is an attempt at borderline meditation, except it’s several long seconds before he achieves anything resembling calm.

It’s as good a time as any to push his hands off you and squirm around to take him a little deeper. You plan on rubbing your victory in, but your smirk is wiped away with a whine at the elation. Instead of stopping you again, he almost imperceptibly thrusts up, and it’s your turn to falter, slamming your hands into his chest, nails digging in, working against your weight trying to pull you down onto him.

It goes on like that, until you’re both bordering on hysteria before you’ve even fully taken him. You can’t figure out if it’s a worse torment to keep delaying or continuing.

Obi-Wan seems to have come to his own conclusion to that, as he finally opens his eyes, locking them with yours as he places his palms flat on the tops of your thighs and pushes down until your skin is flush with his.

You pull a hand up, biting on your fist, trying to stifle the exclamation in your throat.

He pulls it away, voice ragged as he speaks. “I want to hear you, little one. We needn’t hide anymore.”

It’s a dimensional statement. For one, no one is around for miles, a stark contrast to your quarters on Coruscant where you at least attempted to be considerate of your too-near neighbors when it came to noise. For another, it’s the irony of being in hiding from the Empire, but being allowed to be open in your relationship with each other finally.

And the deepest irony is that you both have your barriers up so firmly right now all you can concentrate on is bared skin.

Oh, but what a beautiful spanse of bared skin he is. Freckled and almost luminously pale, bending and curving with the strength of the form underneath.

He sits up slowly, generating a breathless plea from both of you at the new angle. A search of your eyes asks you a question, and you’re nodding, kissing him with the full brunt of your craving.

You slide up and then down again just as he drives up, and you’ve found your rhythm, just like that.

His hands push you onto him every time you pull up, and his tongue laves your breasts, sucking and biting along your collarbone, as you rake your nails down his chest, over the backs of his shoulders, his scalp, anything you can touch.

It’s enough to send him into a chorus of groans, shoving himself hard up into you.

He doesn’t even speak it aloud, just projects the apologetic warning that he’s on the edge.

When his thumb finds your clit, everything in you goes tense despite the relief. You clench around him, hard, and he instantly moves his hands to your shoulder blades pulling you flush against him as he lets out an unrestrained sound against your breasts.

You push his thumb away from where it’s stilled against you, replacing it with your own. His fingers twitch in their bruising grip, and you can feel him throbbing inside you.

You stay like that for a moment, just letting him ride out his bliss, whispering sweet affirmations into his hair.

When he looks up at you again, his eyes are glassed over. You wonder if it’s ecstasy that is the cause, or something from the bedrock boiling to the surface.

He doesn’t give you a chance to elaborate, flipping you over on to your back. The moment he withdraws, you can feel the mess dripping down your inner thighs.

It takes everything in you to not come at the sight alone as Obi-Wan dips further down your body, parting you and lapping his tongue right where you’re weeping evidence of desire.

You know you have to be making a mess of his face and beard, but he certainly doesn’t seem to mind, indulging on his own spill infused with yours.

When he adds two fingers in you and curls them strategically, searing heat shoots through your lower stomach as you arch against his mouth, his name a high whisper with absolutely no suppression, echoing across the empty stone walls of the home.

He leaves a final tender kiss against you before lying down next to you, pulling you into his arms, and you pull him into yours right back when your limbs remember how to function.

His head drops against yours, and his eyes flutter shut, taking a deep inhale, like he’s trying to fill his lungs with more than just oxygen.

Nothing is fine, and the world is crumbling. But right now, as the suns finally leave the house in dark, as you clasp each other in tight embrace, as sleep pulls you under, you can pretend it’s fine. If only for a moment.

*******

There’s a flash of feeling that startles you awake and into the disorientation that comes from waking in a new place. The sensation worsens when you feel the reverberations of the equivalent of a slammed door in the Force.

You sit up quickly and look over to Obi-Wan, who sits on the side of the bed, head in his hands, fingers brutal in their grip.

You move toward him, and he turns around at the sound. “Go back to sleep, darling. it’s nothing.”

When you fix him with a gaze that essentially translates “bantha fodder,” he just lies back down, pulling your back into his chest, and you doubt the fact you can’t see his face like this is a mistake.

The rhythm of his breathing betrays the fact he is nowhere near sleep, but you find yourself fading off soon again anyway.

****

When you wake in the morning, you’re alone in the bed, which is no surprise. He’s not one to lounge, and if the height of the suns peaking through the window has anything to say, he’s already been up for a while.

His cloak is still tangled in the blankets, though, and you wrap yourself in it, padding outside after doing something about your morning breath.

The hut is situated on a cliff, overlooking a barren valley. The suns glare with their unrelenting eyes of heat even so early in the day, and you stare back as best you can without squinting, daring them to do their worst. They know nothing of the misery that’s already visited this home. They have no hope of competing.

You find Obi-Wan cross-legged near the edge of the cliff. Cross-legged and levitating.

Of course, you know he can do things like this. It’s just such a different thing to see him doing it . You’ve never had a proper morning with him like this, seeing his routine. He was always up before the sun, you with him, gathering moments and soaking them in before he had to leave again.

He looks almost peaceful now, not at rest, but peaceful.

How?

How does he still have so much trust in the Force?

A more lighthearted thought emerges through the grim train, as you notice he’s opted to not put his tunic back on yet.

It doesn’t matter out here, you suppose, there isn’t any other living being for miles around. For that matter, you wonder why he even left the pants.

His voice damn near startles you, not even opening his eyes to address you.

“Although that may be the case, there are some locations more bearable to get sunburn than others.”

You blush at being caught, and gently ensure your thoughts aren’t accidentally projected again, but he doesn’t give you much time to dwell on it.

“Join me?”

As he opens his eyes and descends the couple inches down back onto the ground, you feel your heart do the same. He’s taught you little things, here and there, and you’ve enjoyed it, learning to tap into that constant humming you never had the tools to channel before.

But now?

What interest do you have with The Force that failed the man who served it without fail? You could burn it down for the atrocities it’s committed even in negligence against the man you love.

But there’s been enough burning.

Obi-Wan won’t speak of what transpired on Mustafar, but you’ve caught glimpses. Last night wasn’t the first night you’ve had him back, and it wasn’t the first you’d woken to a severe troubling in his aura.

You’re still not sure if Luke is a fussy baby or simply a very responsive one, as it seemed Obi-Wan was already awake before Luke started crying.

It was only mere seconds before his shields came slamming down, firmly in place, every time.

You can’t tell if he’s trying to shelter you from his feelings or blockade them away from himself.

Maybe both.

But those seconds? They’re long enough. For just a flash of a charred, severed body. Of hateful, pleading, golden eyes.

There’s been enough burning.

“I can’t ever be a Jedi, Obi.”

“That’s not what I’m asking of you.”

He knows your criticisms as well as your compliments over the Jedi. You’ve both discussed it at great length many times, always over a firm understanding and respect, but you’ve never really had long enough to have a conclusion. But you’re not going to push now, not with the fall of it all still so close behind him.

“I should think our relationship itself is testimony that I don’t inherently agree or adhere to all Jedi teachings.”

You drop your eyes, trying to ignore the sweat starting to trickle down your skin from the relentless heat. “I thought maybe you were with me in spite of your better judgement.”

His brow furrows. “At first, that’s what I may have thought too, but it made itself clear that although what transpired between us was forbidden by the Code…” he trails off for a moment, almost hesitant. “...the way Light was and is exemplified any time I have you in my arms presented a solidified case that not always is the Jedi way synonymous with the will of the Force.”

He says it wholeheartedly, but you can tell it pains him. It’s easy to never speak ill of the dead, either of individuals or groups. To glorify and wipe away any transgressions to ensure their memory sparkles as you grieve it.

The harder thing is to grieve everything, both the good you lost and the bad you experienced from the same source.

And there’s another level there. Something that has him patting the spot beside him and giving a heartbreakingly forced smile.

Even through it all, wariness of aspects of his own religion included, he seeks unity with the Force without reservation or resentment.

You don’t fight him anymore.

The war is over, but the battle has just begun, and so help you Maker, you’re going to fight for him to have the chance to heal.

So you sit, mimicking his position.

When he smiles again, it’s much smaller but not at all fake.

“First, clear your mind.”

*****

The days are afflicted with an underlying gloom, full of work that busies the hands but leaves the mind to wander, which wasn’t at all a luxurious thing.

But the nights are filled with unclaimed time, time in an abundance you never had with each other before.

Sometimes it’s shot with silence from the weight of the day, reveling in the presence of another as you work together on the supper dishes.

Or sometimes there’s almost an excitement, despite the labor ahead, of the plans for the place that’s now your home.

“Wouldn’t we have to have some sort of larger equipment to hoist that over the cliff edge?” You wonder aloud to Obi-Wan, speaking of the replacement unit for finally getting some very basic temperature control for the hut. “The way around back is too rough and would scratch it up, and I, for one, wouldn’t want to try pushing it up manu…”

You stop at his smirk he’s trying to hide with tilting his tea cup higher over his lips.

“...Or there’s a Jedi solution to this problem that requires neither, and you’re just letting me ramble on anyway.” You punctuate the end of your statement by tossing a pillow his direction, which just stops. Midair.

There’s so much legend surrounding Jedi, you haven’t really been sure what’s factual and what’s fairytale.

You certainly knew of some of his abilities, but he didn’t tend to elaborate on details of his missions before, and you never argued, knowing it was a liability for you to have that kind of information if anyone ever found out what you meant to Obi-Wan.

He chuckles, not even trying to look a little guilty.

Once you remember to shut your mouth, you get back to planning. “And that same principle just applies to objects of any size?”

He nods. “Same principle, just more concentration required.”

You tuck your feet under you on your chair as you think on that for a second. You’ll have to ask him to teach you that one next. Mediation alone could get rather dull.

“So, for instance, if a great amount of concentration is being spent Force-lifting an object up the cliff, it would leave a Jedi vulnerable to, say… projectiles thrown?” You throw another pillow at him, which just as easily halts next to the other, gravity defiant.

He could have lowered the first one by now. You raise a brow at the knowledge he’s putting on a show for you.

“You’ll have to do better than that, I’m afraid.”

More often than not, the time of the evenings are spent loving and lounging in sheets, savoring the difference of unhurried lovemaking, with no heart-wrenching farewell on the horizon.

But every time you gently ask to reach his mind, he pushes the request and your hand away.

*******

Obi-Wan’s visits to see Luke are met with a level of hostility. The man, Owen, seems wary of him, doing everything he can to cut the visit short as you and the woman, Beru, if you remember correctly, look silently to each other for some relief in the tension.

They already likely know his actual name, but you’re careful to only address Obi as “Ben” here, along with everywhere else that isn’t your hut. It’s precautionary, but if it’s for the sake of protecting Luke and Obi-Wan himself, you’ll do it without any further questions.

But Luke seems to be doing well, and that is ultimately what matters most. It’s hard to believe how quickly he’s grown in the mere weeks that you’ve been here.

The boy might be by far Obi-Wan’s greatest purpose being on this planet, but it’s not his only.

Master Yoda had given him Jedi texts, yes, but also another task for his time here.

You’re thankful to talk about either, as it seems to be one of the few things he’ll open up to you about as it pertains to himself.

But when he goes to meditate alone, calling for his mentor, his father in every right of the term, he comes back more empty than he left.

When you look at him with a too-knowing look, too infiltrating for his comfort, he easily slides into a quip.

“My old master, it seems, won’t appear unless on his own terms. I’m not sure what else I expected, honestly.”

******

You also learn that the man does not cook. Not that you consider yourself an expert, but at the very minimum, you know how to use spices, which on Tatooine come as hot as their weather.

“Is it a Jedi thing to have tasteless food, or is that just you?” You tease as he dices some sort of root at your direction while you sift through the cabinet.

His eyes are full of mischief when he’s quiet for a moment before speaking up. “I would argue there’s concrete evidence that I’m quite happy to indulge in the pleasures of taste.”

You can’t help your blush as his very pointed look.

Dinner is long forgotten after that, but the night is delectable all the same.

*****

Something has shifted in your own Force signature. Something you can’t put your finger on.

It doesn’t seem harmful or threatening in essence, but it makes you wary in a way that makes your skin itch with more than the dryness.

You try not to think much of it. After all, there’s plenty to do between tending to the vaporator, hunting, fending off the Sand People, and your learning to wield the Force.

After rumors of Tusken raiders being nearby, you ask Obi-Wan to teach you combat. This would be starting long before he normally would teach someone, he explained, but he does it anyway. It’s not exactly using the Force at first, having to start with how to even move your body in the event of attack, slowly enhancing those skills with the Force as you become more confident in them.

You look forward to it more than any other task. It gives you a strength you haven’t had before, and it’s a whole different level of connection to the Force when you trust it physically, not just in your mind.

It’s also another level of trust with Obi-Wan, knowing he’d never hurt you even as he enters the role of a potential threat, guiding you through how to handle it.

So you don’t know why today your stomach won’t agree to the way you want your body to move. You push through it anyway, despite Obi-Wan’s concerned questioning.

You lose your lunch into the rocks, and you really wish he wouldn’t pick you up to take you back into the hut, because the shift of what’s up and what’s down doesn’t help at all.

And you wish he wouldn’t dote over you the rest of the day, as if you didn’t feel useless enough already, as if the illness didn’t leave as quickly as it came.

You make a mental note to ensure you don’t let yourself become dehydrated again to that point.

*****

The trips into town are kept to a minimum, trying to keep curiosity away from the new couple. Also, there wasn’t much to do except barter and spend credits, something you both tried not to do a great deal of.

Obi-Wan was sent off with enough Republic credits to get you started here, but it was hit or miss if the vendors took them that day, and he also didn’t want to spend too much at once.

Nothing was more suspicious than surplus here.

The woman you brought the limited produce available from seemed… different this trip.

Obi-Wan was a couple of stalls down from you, negotiating with a man who had obviously jacked up the price on the items needed. Poor man didn’t know what he was in for.

You turned your attention back on to the woman in front of you, and tried to decipher what was different this time and why it felt so familiar.

As you pointed to a basket of hubba gourds, inquiring of the price, she gave you one that you knew for a fact was higher than last time.

You counter offered the same price as last time you were here, and she firmly stated her price again. Ready to stand your ground, you go to state your price again, she puts her hand to her belly, bringing her skirt in around, revealing a small bump.

“Can’t afford your low-ball offers with this one on the way, understand?”

The sky suddenly falls around you in thunderous clamor as the physical realm around you moves on, unaffected and unreachable. Almost mechanically, you place the credits she asked for on the table, not even capable of addressing the obvious manipulation.

Understanding drenches you in its brutal weight as you realize the source why she felt so different this time.

Your hands shake in their clasp on the basket as you pull yourself into a side alley, heaving your breakfast up.

Because you recognize the same difference in her is the exact same one that has changed your Force signature.

It’s because there’s a flickering light of another being’s Force signature within you.

Tagged as requested: @maybege

#obi-wan #obi wan kenobi #Obi-Wan Kenobi #obi-wan X reader #obi-wan kenobi x reader #obi wan x reader #obi wan kenobi x reader #obi-wan x you #obi-wan kenobi x you #obi wan x you #obi wan kenobi x you #Obi-Wan fanfic #tw: violence #tw: pregnancy #tw: trauma #obi-wan x reader #obi wan x oc

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satansbooks · 3 years

Text

Obey Me Headcanons

Reader is gn also winchester.

warnings: swear words. I don't know what to put in this. it's my first time actually so definitely be prepared of messy writing and some grammar mistakes?

a/n: hey! I hope you like it since I started watching supernatural again. I thought why don't I give it a try. I didn't add belphegor since this headcanon/fic takes a place in the first month of the whole exchange program. ✨here you are✨

word count: 1,7k

summary: reader is the youngest sibling of winchesters, end up in devildom.

okay so, you and your brothers were after a stupid shapeshifter for two weeks now and let me tell you that, being in a same car with your annoying brothers for two weeks without getting any rest to deal with them was sucked.

this shapeshifter (you guys were guessing he was an alpha since he was fast and wasn't struggling with shifting.) was homicidal maniac to be honest. he killed more than thirty children in a two weeks row and they were so random. like he was killing for fun. there were not any pattern or connection between them.

town to town, city to city. you and your brothers chased him non stoppingly. your body was craving for some bed to sleep on. or a pillow. or anything that is soft and resting. these leather seats were hella uncomfortable.

and still, still you had a very little information about him. he was leaving lots of trace for you to find him. he seemed like he was enjoying your little chasing game. well that makes one. because you were this close to lose your shit.

you were watching stars from your side of the car window while driving (the road was soo empty. you were sure you could drive with your eyes closed). your older brothers music was keeping you company on a low sound level to not to wake them up. normally Dean wouldn't trust you with his car but he was tired. after all he was driving for two weeks with a very little rest. he needed some sleep. at least more than six hours. and Sam, well he just likes sleeping and napping.

so when your vision blurred suddenly you act quick to pull over. without any second you found yourself in a room. it was like a court room with eight chairs. different animal shadows was painted on the walls behind the court chairs. dark decorations and purple&black flags all over the place. only some candles were lighting the whole room.

spooky?

later you found out you were in devildom as an exchange student for a whole year just because some fancy underground elite wanna show off to three realm that he's the one and only king that can bring peace and serenity. you were his little experiment.

anyone could tell you were beyond being angry. you were frustrated. and nothing, nothing you do could change that.

or you thought...

he knew keeping you under his control would be hard so he decided to do what he can do best.

dealing.

if you could stay here without giving him or the house of lamentation any trouble for a month, he was going to release you. but he was sure you would want to stay here after you spent a month. (he knew thanks to barbatos..)

you didn't say anything to him. you knew your brothers would come to get you before that. even if it means they have to destroy whole "devildom". you were sure. also you didn't have anything to use against these demons except your tattoo (which would only work if one of them wanna take over your body.) so the best option was keeping your mouth shut and agreeing with them. you just had to wait for a month.

first night was hard.

not that it got any easier for some time.

you couldn't sleep but who could have blame you. you were in hell. it doesn't matter which fancy name they were calling it. it was hell. the sulphuric smell was unbearable and of course you only had silver knives with you (you were carrying them in your shoe. they were kinda small but since a lot of creatures has a weak spot for silver the size didn't matter. you wished it could harm demons too) so you were unarmed.

they seemed nice tho. they were kind to you (most of the time) especially Beelzebub. so you thought to give them a shot. what could have happen worst?

Lucifer realized the runes you used to seal your room when he was bringing some paper work to your room about exchange program.

these kind of runes were useless here. but he didn't want to say anything to you, clearly you needed them.

Mammon was your 'first' guy. he was with you on your way to RAD and also in your classes. (Lucifer made sure that you two have the same class schedule) eventually you started talking with him because it was impossible not to. he was charming, talkative and funny. you would be lying if you said you wouldn't enjoying his company during your time with him. (especially after the whole pact thing. it only brought you two closer.)

you were quick to remove all runes in your room after that. because you and mammon started watching movies together. sometimes Beel and Levi would join you.

and when you were not, you were with Asmodeus.

your father was trying to keep a balance between his kids and his hunting business, most of the time you were with your brothers. they were pretty protective over their younger sibling. that actually explained why you didn't have any friends.

so when asmodeus asked you to come shopping with him you were slightly shocked?

yeah, of course you and your brothers went to shopping but it was because of some necessity not for fun or spending your time.

but your nervousness passed quickly around him. he was lovely, and so very kind. you actually liked how straightforward he was. and this little "shopping sprees" turn into your things.

your first and genuine interactions with all of the brothers were on a dinner.

they were trying to scare mammon by using the so told "ghosts" in their house. they were just joking around but even the thought of them made the second eldest shudder.

you didn't say anything because you were enjoying your well-cooked meal which was from human realm (they decided to put some human world food in their menu in order to make you feel more comfortable)

"there's no such a thing as ghosts!"

Mammon said without waiting more. you could sense the anger mixing with fear in his voice. then you feel a sudden urge to laugh.

"oi, what are ya laughing at human!"

"of course there is Mammon. they're pretty common. I'm sure there is one in this house."

you couldn't stop your laughter. there wasn't anything funny about it actually but come to think of it, he was one of the most powerful demon in three realms and scared of low level creatures like ghosts?

brothers always forgot they actually have a hunter in their houses---

they all asked tons of questions about ghosts and other stuffs you've been hunting.

satan was the most curious one about this topic. he asked you many questions about them after dinner. of course he read all about them but it was just basic informations to be honest. (and they all sounded like a fairytale tbh)

please don't be surprised when he actually arranges some kind of hunting trip with you to examine them closely. lucifer didn't know about that.

but figured it out when two of you showed up to RAD very late, smelling like rock salt and fuel.

you gave him one of your notebooks (you started to take notes about the creatures you're hunting with your brothers just like your father did. you already had four notebooks for now. it was like diary.) to study. he appreciates it. :''

okay here's another thing, your older brothers appetite was something you've never seen before. or you thought before meeting with Beelzebub.

when you met Beelzebub for the first time you didn't mind his eagerness to eat that much. (Dean was your family's Beelzebub lol.) obviously you couldn't eat as much as he does but your company kept him happy.

he was giving you big-bear-hugs whenever you talk about your brothers or how bad you missed them. (he feels you :'))

you two started to go diners or whatever they were calling it so often. he was kind and thoughtful. even invited you to join him for workouts. (since you're not going hunting trips anymore, you decided to join him on gym to keep yourself and your form steady.)

after gym you usually would watch a show called "I'm an unstoppable powerful wizard but still don't know how to fall in love with someone so I'm hunting other creature's to forget about my massive heart-break but it's not really a heart-break." which was a good show to be honest.

thats how you got close with Levi. he already was impressed your skills as a hunter ('they're like, out of an anime!' he thought) so he invited you for long gaming sessions in his room. since you were always in a car. it was difficult first. but you got used to it. (he was good at teaching)

you spent tons of sleepless night with him: watching movies and animes, playing games, reading and re-acting manga scenes.

the most challenging demon to communicate was lucifer. he already met your brothers. and he didn't like them. he had a strong prejudice about you. he thought you were just like your brothers.

but after some time, when you started to get more comfortable around other brothers it also effected your relationship with the eldest.

and it all started with a dumb question.

he was doing some paperwork for lord diavolo with you about the exchange program. when you sighed for the millionth time in an hour. he had no choice but ask what was the problem.

"can you look into my eyes and ask me what do I truly desire?"

he was confused?

"I mean there's a Lucifer in human world who can bring people's darkest desires. so I was wondering if you could do the same."

now he was more confused.

there was a Lucifer in human realm? and what was his ability again?

when you try to explain him and failed over and over again you decided to show him.

and you two started to watch Lucifer.

he actually enjoyed spending some alone time with you.

after a month, your brothers never showed up. you didn't want them to. Lucifer said he taken care of them. and he promised that he didn't hurt them.

even if you missed your brothers too much. you knew one year wouldn't hurt anyone.

after all maybe that 'underground elite' was right. he was the one and only who could bring peace and serenity over the three realms...

and you were very thankful to him.

#supernatural #obey me #obey me leviathan #obey me lucifer #obey me satan #obey me mammon #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #crossover #obey me headcanons #headcanons #winchester!reader #dean winchester #sam winchester #oh no i hope i dont suck #first try looolll

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