21 - 40 of 65 Works in Trans Daniel Jacobi
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"Midland..... what happened to your arm?"
or, Mark Midland has to explain a few things. Namely, a prosthetic that seems a little too advanced for someone working in public services.
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you're my satellite (you're riding with me, tonight) by teddy_the_bear03
Fandoms: Wolf 359 (Radio)
11 Jul 2021
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January was the hardest time of year for the both of them. The cold reminds them too much of the vacuum of space, how frigid loneliness could be; so they huddle for warmth.
Or; Kepler acts up, and Jacobi puts him back into his place.
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“The thing about her,” He says, quietly, “Is that you wouldn’t have even known if she liked you until you really knew her. She wasn’t good at showing emotions, or knowing how to show people she cared about them. But...she respected you.” And I can’t tell if you proved her wrong or right, he doesn’t say. Alana Maxwell had appreciated efficiency, people doing what they needed to do in the most logical way. She might have been impressed or surprised that Minkowski had the guts to pull the trigger, if she hadn’t been on the wrong end of that gun.
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"It becomes an unspoken rule (after Maxwell hits Jacobi after they say something stupid in the middle of a mission) that they don't talk about their childhoods, or their families; it suits them just fine, and somewhere along the way they become a strange little family, in the loosest sense of the word.
There's always an exception to a rule though, isn't there?"
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"Daniel Jacobi is not an idiot, and if he was any less wasted, he’d, quite frankly, be offended at the implication. That being said, Alana Maxwell would – and often does – dispute this.
She would, if she was three times more sober – or drunk – argue that being in a strange love-hate relationship with your boss is literally the epitome of idiocy. Well, she’s arguing it now anyway, but she’s about four shots of something, probably vodka, past coherency and Daniel stopped listening properly about ten minutes ago."a non chronological series of events in the life of daniel jacobi, most regarding his relationship with warren kepler and the impacts of that
(please let me know if i should add any warnings / tags)
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sorry about the blood in your mouth, i wish it was mine by incandescentfae
Fandoms: Wolf 359 (Radio)
11 Jan 2021
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Daniel Jacobi knows about explosions. He knows how to use a bomb as a precision instrument, a scalpel, in a way that would almost be called delicate if there wasn't quite so much shrapnel and smoke.
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"close your eyes, he says, sudden and unexpected. imagine that i’m him, pretend i’m who you want, say his name. who am i, jacobi?
kepler, you breathe, and you close your eyes"
or: moments where you wish you wanted reality rather than this escape into fiction that you've so carefully put together.
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"It's Halloween," Jacobi says, and Kepler is curious despite himself.
"Are you planning on going trick or treating?" he asks, and Jacobi laughs. It's a pleasant sound.
Series
- Part 6 of give me your gravity, there is none here
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He was. Was a monster. Was the love of your life.
Then he was gone.Daniel Jacobi misses his boyfriend. Another finale POV except this one is canon-compliant (daniel's trans but that should be canon).
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their relationship changes over the years.
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jacobi is too loyal to kepler
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kepler is a manipulative bastardbased off of the song 'young god' by halsey
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You, Warren Kepler, are a collector. Of fine alcohol, and of stories, sometimes of lies, often of secrets.
But you also have memories, ones that are not saved for intimidation or amusement, ones you try not to collect, that you try not to remember.
They feel stolen, and you are detached from them, though you have them only because you experienced them, because you are one half of each one.Series
- Part 5 of give me your gravity, there is none here
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He's changed so much in the time you've known him, and you still have trouble matching the man he was before to the one sitting in front of you. He's still Eiffel, pop culture enthusiast and slightly insufferably dramatic, but he's also Douglas to you now (Doug on the rare occasions you are confident enough to call him that). Douglas likes real coffee, and old terrible movies, and sketching in the corners of your notebooks while you pretend not to be fond of him.
Look, Jacobi is gay and soft and so am I. I offer no further explanations or excuses.
Series
- Part 4 of stars showing through the seams
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A tech thief in Maine means that Daniel Jacobi is forced to return to a town he thought he'd left behind for good.
Series
- Part 2 of Trustfall Expanded Universe
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 5,594
- Chapters:
- 1/?
- Kudos:
- 4
- Hits:
- 69
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There are two men, sitting next to the fire, their bags and two small blankets a few feet away. They aren't speaking; or, rather, they are, but nothing they say is truly worth being spoken. You know, watching them, that the two of them are part of something much bigger than them, and they are both pretending not to know what it is.
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He’s pulled back a little now, his eyes open and studying yours. There’s a question in his gaze, and you kiss him again before he can ask it. It’s one thing to think about him, and another to have to say those thoughts out loud. He understands, or at least he tries to, and in return you do tell him some of it, whispering it into the crook of his neck after you pull the covers over the two of you, knowing he is smiling even though you can’t see it. You’re happy in a way that you never really thought was possible for someone like you.
Series
- Part 3 of stars showing through the seams
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There is a silent knowledge in the way both of you know exactly what to do; you know exactly what the other likes in these moments: he knows you prefer quiet, and you know how he likes to be kept close. Neither of you will ever really acknowledge the routine, you don't talk about it, but that doesn't mean it isn't present.
Or: there's a routine for after certain missions, and no one wants to admit it.
Series
- Part 4 of give me your gravity, there is none here
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He is asleep in the passenger seat of your car, mouth half open; the street lamps pass over his closed eyelids, the charred hem of his torn hoodie, and you love him. There is a small cardboard box on his lap. Inside it, a tiny black ball of fluff is curled up in a nest of the softest blankets you had. To be honest, you were never one for cats, but the way Eiffel looks at this kitten makes you think you can make an exception.
(They adopt a cat.)
Series
- Part 2 of stars showing through the seams
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Kepler learning to compartmentalize the last emotion he has (until Day 1202 of the Hephaestus Mission).
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It works like this: you hold him while he sleeps, listen to his quiet breathing and kiss him awake gently when it starts to speed up. Sometimes, if you don’t catch it in time, his eyes pop open wide and scared, ready to see nothing but the void of space, but you’re there, whispering little phrases until he feels safe enough to sleep again.
Series
- Part 1 of stars showing through the seams
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Sometimes, this thing between the two of you seems so close to comfortable. It's strange, the odd domesticity of it, as he washes his hands at the tiny sink and you wait outside in the little rectangle of light shining onto the carpet from the open door, the quiet sound of the water humming in the background.
It'd almost be normal, you think, if he wasn't cleaning your blood off his fingers.
Series
- Part 3 of give me your gravity, there is none here