#but then again this is Captain Falcon we're talking about | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ironwitchpainter · 6 months ago

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Star Trek: Planetary Perception and Pursuit, Episode 6: The Imperial Falcon

The next few days on the Enterprise are a whirlwind of activity. Kirk notices the change in his two best friends, the way they look at each other, the gentle touches, the lingering conversations. He feels a pang of happiness for them, but also a twinge of sadness for the potential loss of the trio's dynamic. Yet, he knows that love and friendship are not static things, they evolve, they grow. And as he watches Spock and McCoy navigate their newfound feelings, he can't help but feel proud of the man he's become, the captain who's learned to embrace the illogical, the human, the love.

"Spock, McCoy," Kirk calls out, his voice cutting through the bustle of the ship's corridor. "A moment of your time, if you please." The two men turn, their eyes meeting briefly before they walk over to him. "I just wanted to say," Kirk clears his throat, trying to find the right words, "that I'm here for you both. No matter what happens, you know that."

"Of course, Captain," Spock replies, his voice measured and calm, yet laced with a hint of vulnerability that Kirk has rarely heard. "Your support is appreciated and valued." He looks at McCoy, the softness in his gaze speaking volumes about the depth of his feelings for the doctor.

"What's this about, Jim?" McCoy asks, his eyes searching Kirk's. His voice holds a note of concern, as he's aware that Kirk isn't one for overt emotional declarations. He wonders if his captain has some bad news to impart.

"It's nothing like that," Kirk assures them with a gentle smile, placing a hand on each of their shoulders. "I just wanted to remind you both that no matter what happens in the future, I'll support you. You're my friends, my brothers, and I'll always be here for you." His gaze flickers between them, acknowledging the unspoken change in their relationship without delving into specifics.

"Jim," McCoy says, his Southern drawl thick with a blend of curiosity and concern, "you got me worried now. What's going on? You think we're gonna get fired or something? Because if it's about me and Spock..." His voice trails off as he looks from Kirk to Spock, then back again, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

"No, Bones," Kirk laughs, gripping their shoulders more firmly. "It's nothing like that. I just had a... a feeling, you know? Like something big is happening, and I want you to know that I'm here for you." He releases them and steps back, his expression earnest. "We've faced so much together, and I don't expect that to change. But if you ever need advice, or just someone to talk to, I'm your man."

Spock looks at Kirk with a newfound respect, understanding the depth of their friendship in a way he never had before. The captain's unwavering support, even in the face of the unknown, is a testament to their shared experiences and the bonds they've forged in the crucible of space.

"Thank you, Jim," McCoy says, his voice gruff but sincere. "I reckon we've all got some figuring out to do. But knowing you're here makes it a little easier." He glances at Spock, who nods in agreement.

"Jim," McCoy says, his voice dropping to a low murmur that only Kirk can hear, "I don't know if you've noticed, but things have... changed between Spock and me." He rubs the back of his neck, looking uncharacteristically nervous. "Could we maybe... have a chat in private? I'd appreciate your perspective on all this, if you've got the time." His eyes dart to Spock, who nods solemnly, indicating his consent for the conversation.

"Of course, Bones," Kirk replies, clapping McCoy on the shoulder. "Spock, you're with me." He leads the way to his quarters, a sense of gravity weighing down the steps of the three men as they navigate the corridors of the Enterprise.

The captain's quarters are a sanctuary of sorts, the walls lined with the physical books Kirk cherishes. They sit down, the tension palpable in the air. Kirk pours three glasses of Saurian brandy, handing one to each of them. He takes a sip, his eyes never leaving his friends. "Alright, spill it. What's going on?"

McCoy starts, his voice low and deliberate. "Spock and I... we've realized we have feelings for each other that go beyond friendship." He takes a deep breath, looking into his drink. "It's complicated, and we're not sure how to navigate it. But we wanted you to know."

Kirk's eyebrows shoot up, but his expression quickly morphs into one of understanding. He nods slowly. "I see," he says, setting his glass down. "Well, I can't say I'm surprised. You two have had a connection that's always been... special. But I want you to know that nothing changes here."

Spock speaks up, his voice a soothing bass. "Our relationship will indeed require careful consideration and adjustment. However, our primary concern is the welfare of the crew and the success of our missions."

Kirk nods, leaning back in his chair. "And that's what I expect from both of you. But as your captain and as your friend, I want to make sure you're okay. Love isn't something you can just set aside for duty. It's a part of you, a part of who you are."

McCoy takes a deep breath, his eyes glistening. "Jim, I've never felt this way before. It's scary and exciting all at once." He looks at Spock, who meets his gaze with a soft nod of understanding. "But I know I can't ignore it."

Kirk reaches out and squeezes McCoy's hand. "And you shouldn't have to. We're not just colleagues, we're a family. We're here to support each other, through the missions and the... personal stuff." He gives them both a firm nod. "Now, I'm not going to say I'm an expert on love, but I do know a thing or two about navigating the stars. And if you two can handle that, you can handle anything."

McCoy chuckles, his Southern drawl thick with emotion. "You're right, Jim. We're not navigators in the traditional sense, but we've charted some pretty wild courses together." He looks at Spock, who nods in agreement. "We'll figure it out, just like we always do."

Spock's eyes shine with something unmistakably human. "Thank you, Captain," he says, his voice tinged with sincerity. "Your understanding and support are most appreciated."

Kirk smiles warmly, his eyes holding a hint of the mischief that so often gets him into trouble. "Well, as long as you two don't start fighting over who gets the last slice of pizza in the mess hall, we'll be just fine." He stands up, his glass of brandy still in hand. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got a ship to run. And I suspect you two have some... private matters to discuss."

McCoy laughs, the sound a little shaky. "We'll try not to let it affect our work, I promise." He takes a sip of his brandy, the warmth of the alcohol spreading through his chest.

Spock rises to his feet, his movements deliberate. "Thank you for your understanding, Captain." He nods once, a silent acknowledgment of the gravity of the situation.

Kirk claps them both on the shoulder. "Remember, my door's always open," he says, his voice serious. "Now go on, get out of here. I've got reports to sign off on, and I'm sure you two have... more interesting things to do." He winks, the moment of seriousness passing.

McCoy and Spock exchange a look, a silent conversation passing between them. They finish their drinks and stand, Spock's hand reaching out to take McCoy's. It's a simple gesture, but one filled with new meaning. They exit Kirk's quarters, leaving the captain to his paperwork.

In the quiet of the corridor, McCoy looks up at Spock. "Where to?" he asks, his voice a little unsteady.

Spock considers for a moment before leading them to the nearest turbolift. "To the observation deck," he decides. "It is a logical place to discuss illogical emotions."

The turbolift doors close, and the soft hum of the engines seems to echo the tumult of their hearts. McCoy's hand is still in Spock's, warm and alive, a reassurance that this isn't just a fleeting moment.

As the lift ascends, McCoy squeezes Spock's hand gently. "You know, Spock, I never thought I'd say this, but I'm actually looking forward to the challenge of figuring this out with you." His voice is a mix of excitement and nerves.

Spock looks down at their joined hands, his expression unreadable. "Nor did I, Doctor," he admits. "However, the potential for growth and understanding that lies within this... relationship... is intriguing."

The turbolift arrives with a soft ding, and the doors open to reveal the vast expanse of stars outside the observation deck windows. They walk out, the quiet hum of the ship's systems a gentle backdrop to their conversation.

McCoy releases Spock's hand and walks over to the windows, looking out at the stars. "You know, I've seen a lot of galaxies, a lot of planets, but nothing quite like this," he says, his voice filled with wonder.

Spock joins him, his gaze following McCoy's to the stars. "It is a humbling reminder of the vastness of the universe and the multitude of life forms that exist within it," he agrees. "And yet, amidst all this complexity, we find ourselves drawn to each other."

They draw closer together, looking into each other's eyes. The warmth of McCoy's gaze is met with the soft glow of Spock's, a silent acknowledgment of the profound connection that has grown between them. Their hearts beat in sync with the rhythm of the ship's engines, a testament to the unity they share amidst the cosmic dance of stars.

McCoy takes a deep breath, his hand finding its way back to Spock's. "I know this is all new for you, Spock, but I want you to know that I'm here for you. No matter what happens, I'll stand by your side."

Spock's grip tightens around McCoy's hand, his eyebrows furrowing slightly as he processes the human's words. "And I, you, Doctor," he says, his voice a whisper in the vastness of the room. "Our bond has always been strong, and I believe it will only grow stronger as we navigate these new waters."

They stand in silence for a few moments, the stars their silent witnesses. Then, with a gentle tug, Spock leads McCoy closer, until their bodies are almost touching. "Tell me," he says, his voice low and earnest, "what is it like to love someone, not as a friend, but as... more?"

McCoy turns to face Spock fully, his eyes searching the Vulcan's. "It's like... it's like when you find that one piece of the puzzle that you didn't even know was missing. Suddenly, everything makes more sense, feels more complete. It's a mix of excitement and fear, knowing that you've found something rare and precious, and not wanting to lose it."

Spock nods slowly, processing the human metaphor. "And the fear," he says, his voice barely above a whisper, "does it ever subside?"

McCoy smiles softly, his thumb brushing the back of Spock's hand. "Sometimes it does, but mostly, it just becomes a part of the love. It's like the shadow that follows the sun. You can't have one without the other."

"I wish to attempt to alleviate your fear, doctor," Spock says, his voice steady and reassuring. "Emotions, even those of a romantic nature, can be understood and managed through logic and experience. We have faced many challenges together, and I am certain that we can navigate this new aspect of our relationship with the same precision and care."

"I believe you, Spock," McCoy says, his eyes never leaving Spock's. "But, I also know that this isn't something we can solve with a Vulcan nerve pinch or a medical tricorder reading." He chuckles, trying to lighten the mood. "It's going to be a journey, and I'm ready to take it with you."

"Leonard," Spock says, his voice low and earnest, "I wish to express my commitment to you in the most human way I know how." He takes a deep breath, the words feeling foreign yet oddly natural on his lips. "You will not lose me. I will never cease to love and support you, regardless of the uncertainties or complexities that may arise."

McCoy's eyes widen slightly, his heart racing. He feels the warmth of Spock's words resonate through his entire being. "And I you, Spock," he whispers, his voice thick with emotion.

"Does this assurance, this logical commitment to our bond, serve to mitigate the fear you spoke of earlier?" Spock asks, his gaze unwavering. "The concept of losing something precious is inherently illogical, as what we share is not merely a possession, but an ever-evolving connection."

"It does, Spock," McCoy admits, his thumb still stroking the back of Spock's hand. "But, like I said, fear's a part of it. It's what makes love so... human." He smiles, a gentle curve of his lips that reaches his eyes.

"Doctor," Spock says, his voice a mix of affection and amusement, "if you continue to maintain that gentle pressure and rhythmic motion against my hand, I will be compelled to reciprocate in kind." He takes a moment to compose himself, the warmth from McCoy's touch seeping through his skin.

McCoy laughs, a sound that fills the observation deck with warmth. "Alright, point taken," he says, releasing the pressure slightly. "But, I've got to say, the human part of me is enjoying this." He looks into Spock's eyes, searching for any signs of discomfort or uncertainty.

"In truth, Dr. McCoy," Spock says, his voice even softer, "I wish to reciprocate. May I kiss you?" The question hangs in the air, charged with vulnerability and anticipation. His gaze never wavers, and his eyebrows tilt up slightly, a subtle expression of hope.

McCoy's smile widens, his eyes shining with affection. "Yes, Spock," he whispers, leaning in slightly. "You may."

Spock leans down, his movements precise yet tender. Their lips meet in a gentle kiss, the first of its kind between them. It's a moment that seems to stop time, their hearts beating in a harmony that resonates throughout the observation deck. The stars beyond the windows seem to shine brighter, a silent applause to their newfound love.

As they pull back, McCoy's hand comes up to cup Spock's cheek, his thumb tracing the outline of the pointed ear. "I can't believe we're doing this," he murmurs, his voice filled with wonder and a touch of awe.

"Dr. McCoy, your enthusiasm is quite endearing, but I must remind you of the necessity to maintain composure." Spock's eyes twinkle with amusement. "You did say you wished to take it slow. Or has that changed?" His voice is a gentle reminder, a blend of affection and logic.

McCoy laughs, the sound echoing in the quiet of the observation deck. "I did, didn't I?" He takes a step back, though his hand lingers on Spock's face for a moment longer. "But, sometimes, the heart just can't be tamed."

Spock nods, his features relaxing into a rare smile. "Understood, doctor. However, we are not animals driven solely by instinct. We are capable of rational thought and self-control." He steps closer again, his hand moving to cover McCoy's.

"I suppose that's what you're doing, then, Spock?" McCoy asks, his voice teasing yet earnest. "Applying that legendary Vulcan logic to the chaos of love?"

"Indeed, Dr. McCoy. It is essential to approach this new aspect of our relationship with a clear mind and a commitment to understanding each other's needs and limitations. Our bond has always been strong, and I intend to honor it with patience and consideration."

"Doctor, I find myself curious about your knowledge of Vulcan physiology, particularly concerning the sensitivity of our hands. In our culture, the physical touch between bonded individuals can hold significant meaning and be quite intense." Spock's gaze is focused and inquisitive, his hand still covering McCoy's. "As we continue to explore this connection, I wish to ensure that any physical intimacy is as emotionally resonant for you as it is for me."

McCoy's thumb stops its movement on Spock's hand, the question hanging in the air like a delicate thread of spider silk. He considers Spock's words, his own curiosity piqued. "I've read about it, of course, but I'd love to learn more from you, Spock. Maybe it's time for a personal anatomy lesson?"

Spock's expression softens, and he leans in, closing the space between them. His lips press against McCoy's in a kiss that's not just gentle, but deep and searching. The warmth of McCoy's hand seems to pulse through Spock's body, setting off a cascade of sensations that he's never quite felt before. His own hand moves to the back of McCoy's neck, his long fingers tangling in the soft hair, as he deepens the kiss. It's a moment that feels like it could last an eternity, a fusion of logic and passion that defies the very fabric of their star-studded backdrop.

McCoy, the sensation of your hand on mine is akin to the harmonious intertwining of Vulcan and human neurotransmitters, a symphony of sensation that resonates throughout my being. It is a profound reminder of our connection, a bond that transcends the boundaries of friendship and species. Each stroke of your thumb, each pulse of your heartbeat through your fingertips, is a declaration of affection that resonates with the very core of my existence. This is what your caress feels like to me.

Spock, that kiss... it's like... it's like the first time I saw Earth from orbit. Awe-inspiring, overwhelming, and utterly life-changing. The way your hand feels in mine, the way your lips touch mine, it's all so new, so alien, and yet, so fundamentally right. It's as if all the stars aligned just to show us this moment of connection.

Precisely, Dr. McCoy. That is what your touch on my hands feels like to me. A confluence of sensations that is both uncharted and profoundly familiar, as if our very atoms are reaching out to each other in silent communication. It is an intimacy that speaks to the essence of our bond, a bond that has grown stronger through the trials we have faced together. I am eager to explore the depths of this connection, to learn the intricacies of your human physiology, and to understand how it intertwines with my own.

Spock, I've seen a lot of strange things in my life, but I never thought I'd be here, holding your hand and feeling like this." McCoy's voice is a mix of wonder and affection. "But here we are, in the heart of the cosmos, finding something beautiful amidst the chaos. I'm ready to learn, to understand, and to grow with you. This is going to be one hell of an adventure, my friend.

McCoy's eyes searched Spock's, a question lingering unspoken between them. Does the human doctor crave another kiss like the one they've just shared? Does he wish to dive deeper into this newfound intimacy, to explore the vastness of their bond through the tender exchange of breath and touch? The way his gaze lingers on Spock's lips suggests a silent plea, an unspoken invitation for more. His pulse quickens, the warmth of their embrace a stark contrast to the cold metal of the observation deck beneath their feet.

Spock, ever attentive to McCoy's unspoken cues, leans in again, his hand still cradling the doctor's. Their kiss deepens, a silent conversation of love and curiosity. The warmth of McCoy's touch is mirrored in Spock's, his Vulcan mind open to the sensations, the uncharted territory of human passion. Their bodies seem to meld together, the vastness of the universe outside their window forgotten as they focus on the intimate space they now share.

They break apart, breathless. McCoy's hand moves to rest on Spock's side, feeling the steady beat of his heart, a rhythm that matches his own. "I think we're going to need a lot of these moments, Spock," he murmurs, his voice a whisper of hope and desire. "To remind us of what we have, amidst the chaos of the stars."

Spock nods, his gaze never leaving McCoy's. "Agreed, doctor. In the face of the infinite, it is the finite moments of connection that provide us with meaning and purpose." His hand slides down to McCoy's waist, pulling him closer, the fabric of their uniforms the only barrier between them.

McCoy's smile is soft, his eyes shining with a newfound light. "I've got a feeling we're going to be rewriting the Starfleet Medical Manual together," he says, a hint of mischief in his voice.

Spock's eyebrow arches slightly, a Vulcan smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. "I suspect that would be... illuminating," he says, his thumb tracing gentle circles on McCoy's wrist.

They stand in silence for a while longer, the quiet hum of the ship's engines a soothing backdrop to their shared revelations. McCoy's hand rests comfortably on Spock's hip, their bodies a warm presence in the cool observation deck.

The moment is broken by the chirp of a communicator. Kirk's voice, strong and steady, filters through the device. "Spock, Bones, we've got a situation on the bridge. A Romulan ship just entered our sector."

Spock's gaze snaps to the communicator on the console, the warmth of their embrace dissipating in an instant as the cold reality of their duty crashes back in. "Understood, Captain," he says, his voice a model of Vulcan composure despite the racing of his heart.

McCoy sighs, his grip on Spock's waist tightening briefly before he steps back, resuming his professional stance. "Looks like our little love nest's about to get interrupted," he murmurs, a touch of humor in his voice despite the gravity of the situation.

Spock nods, his hand sliding from McCoy's waist to briefly squeeze his shoulder. "We will continue this discussion later," he promises, the warmth in his eyes a silent reassurance that their newfound connection is not forgotten amidst the stars.

McCoy nods, reluctance in his eyes but understanding in his gaze. "Let's get to work, Spock." He releases Spock's hand and heads for the turbolift, the weight of their conversation a palpable presence in the room.

The turbolift whisks them away, and moments later, they arrive on the bustling bridge of the Enterprise. The tension is palpable as the crew springs into action, the usual banter replaced with focused determination. Kirk's eyes flicker briefly to the newfound closeness between his two closest friends, but he says nothing, focusing instead on the viewscreen.

The viewscreen flickers to life, revealing the cold, stoic visage of a Romulan commander. "This is the Romulan Warbird IRW Valdore," the disembodied voice declares, the words echoing through the bridge like a warning shot. "We are here to establish a peace treaty with the United Federation of Planets. You are to stand down and prepare for negotiations."

Kirk's jaw tightens, but his voice remains calm. "Acknowledged, Valdore. We're on our way to rendezvous with the Romulan delegation. Let's keep the channels open." He turns to Spock, his gaze flickering over the Vulcan's composed features. "How do you read this, Spock?"

"Their intentions are unclear, Captain," Spock replies, his voice measured. "However, the presence of a Romulan ship in Federation space is not a typical sign of peaceful overtures." His hand lingers on the controls, the echo of McCoy's touch still resonating within him.

"Understood, Spock." Kirk's gaze shifts to McCoy, noticing the lingering warmth in his eyes. "Bones, I need you to be ready for anything. This could be a medical emergency waiting to happen."

"Always am, Captain," McCoy says, his tone a blend of professionalism and a hint of amusement. He gives Kirk a knowing look before turning to his medical station, checking the readouts with a practiced ease.

The medical station on the bridge is a state-of-the-art piece of equipment, designed to monitor the vital signs of the crew in real-time. Its sleek, ergonomic design is a testament to Starfleet's commitment to the health and well-being of its officers. The biometric panels glow softly, displaying the life signs of everyone on the bridge. As McCoy approaches, the console flickers to life, displaying his own readings. His pulse, steadied from their intimate moment, begins to quicken as the weight of their newfound love mixes with the adrenaline of the incoming mission. He quickly checks Spock's readings as well, noticing the subtle changes in his friend's physiology that mirror his own emotional state. The medical station's array of sensors and monitors keep a constant vigil, ready to alert them to any sudden shifts in health or injury that could occur during their encounter with the Romulans.

The medical station is also linked directly to sickbay, acting as an extension of McCoy's medical domain. It allows him to monitor the condition of patients in sickbay from the bridge, displaying detailed readings from each biobed and listing any new patients that may arrive. This interconnectedness serves as an unspoken reminder of their shared responsibilities and the lives they are sworn to protect.

The Romulan Commander's message concludes with a specific instruction: "Prepare to transport to the designated moon asteroid for face-to-face negotiations. We await your arrival." The asteroid is a desolate, airless rock, pockmarked with ancient craters and scarred by the ravages of time and space. It's a neutral ground, chosen for its lack of strategic value, and yet, the very act of meeting there feels fraught with tension. Kirk nods to McCoy and Spock, a silent understanding passing between them. They are about to embark on a mission that could reshape the galaxy's balance of power, all while navigating the delicate dance of their own newfound love.

Kirk, Spock and McCoy make their way to the transporter room, their steps measured and purposeful. The room is filled with the low murmur of technicians preparing for the away mission. The air is thick with anticipation, the tension palpable as they suit up in their environmental suits. The suits are tailored to each man, form-fitting yet allowing for ease of movement. The material is a blend of metallic fibers and insulating polymers, designed to protect them from the vacuum of space and the extreme temperatures of the asteroid's surface. The suits are equipped with life support systems, communication devices, and a variety of medical and scientific instruments, reflecting the versatility required of Starfleet officers.

The space suits are a deep shade of blue, a color that not only identifies them as part of the Federation but also offers a stark contrast to the cold, lifeless asteroid. The functional elements of the suits are sleekly integrated, with the bulky life support systems and propulsion packs seamlessly melded into the ergonomic design. The helmets are rounded, with a clear visor that allows for unobstructed vision. The helmets' shape is reminiscent of an ancient knight's visor, a subtle nod to the medieval theme of the Grand Tournament they'd just left behind. The suits' aesthetic is a blend of utility and elegance, a testament to human innovation and the Starfleet ethos of exploration and diplomacy.

As they step onto the transporter pad, the technician who will be joining them, Lieutenant Castillo, checks the transporter coordinates one final time. Castillo is a young, sharp-eyed communications specialist, her function on this mission is to facilitate the conversation between the Federation and the Romulan delegation. Her skills in linguistics and diplomatic protocol are unparalleled, making her an invaluable asset in this delicate situation. Her presence is a reminder that, while Kirk, Spock, and McCoy might be the face of the Federation in these negotiations, they are backed by a team of highly trained individuals who each play a critical role in the success of their mission.

The transporter's hum fills the room, and the familiar sensation of dematerialization washes over them. For a brief moment, their atoms are scattered through the void of space before coalescing once more on the moon asteroid's surface. The asteroid is a peculiar sight, a barren, rocky body that dances in an intricate figure-eight pattern around both a planet and a star. The gravitational pull of this celestial ballet causes a gentle sway in their stances, a constant reminder of the precariousness of their position. The asteroid's orbit is swift, giving them the sensation of being on a moving platform, the horizon a blur of cosmic ballet. The stark beauty of the setting is a stark contrast to the gravity of their mission.

The Romulan delegation arrives, and the sight of them takes the trio by surprise. Their space suits are not the armored, angular designs that the Federation officers would have expected to see on Romulan military personnel. Instead, they are sleek, almost organic in their appearance, with a shimmering, iridescent quality that seems to reflect the light from the nearby star. The suits appear to be a blend of technology and biological material, the likes of which the Federation has never encountered. The suits hug their bodies like a second skin, the colors changing subtly as they move, hinting at a deep connection to the wearers' emotions or perhaps their very lifeforce. The absence of any visible seams or joints suggests a level of craftsmanship that borders on the metaphysical.

However, upon closer inspection, the Romulan space suits reveal an unexpected vulnerability. While the material itself is clearly advanced, the underlying structure seems to be held together by a patchwork of what appear to be rusty, makeshift pipes and cables. The components jut out at odd angles, creating an overall aesthetic that seems more suited to a pirate ship than a diplomatic mission. The Federation officers exchange glances, each recognizing the potential implications of such an unusual design choice. Are the Romulans trying to hide something? Or is this a display of their resourcefulness in the face of scarcity? The questions swirl in their minds as they prepare to greet their counterparts, the answers to which could very well dictate the course of their negotiations.

Kirk steps forward, extending his hand in a gesture of peace. "Welcome to the asteroid, esteemed Romulan delegation. I am Captain James T. Kirk of the USS Enterprise."

The Romulan Commander, a stoic figure with piercing eyes and a sharp jawline, steps forward to meet Kirk's gesture. His grip is firm, almost challenging, but he releases it without incident. "I am Commander Tavel," he says, his voice deep and measured. "We are here to discuss the terms of your surrender."

Kirk's smile never wavers, his eyes locking onto Tavel's. "Commander, there seems to be a misunderstanding. We were informed that we were to negotiate a peace treaty, not discuss a surrender. Perhaps there's been a miscommunication?"

The Romulan's gaze narrows slightly, his grip on Kirk's hand tightening before he releases it. "Very well," he says, his tone clipped. "Let us proceed with the 'peace treaty' as you call it."

As Kirk and Tavel begin their tense exchange, Lieutenant Castillo, ever the professional, steps forward to offer her expertise. "Commander Tavel," she says, her voice clear and calm despite the tension, "I've been studying the Romulan language in preparation for this meeting. May I offer some insight?"

Castillo's eyes dart between Kirk and Tavel, her mind racing through the nuances of Romulan linguistics. "The terms 'surrender' and 'peace treaty' are both rendered as 'yIqmey' in your language. However, the context and inflection can shift the meaning significantly. In the context you used, 'surrender' implies an unconditional capitulation, whereas 'peace treaty' suggests a mutual agreement reached through negotiation. It's possible that the translation we received was a bit... aggressive, compared to what you intended." She pauses, her gaze intent on the Romulan commander, her hands gesturing slightly to emphasize her points. "The subtleties of language can be as vast as the cosmos itself. Let us ensure we are speaking the same dialect of peace."

Tavel regards Castillo with a look that could freeze a star. "Your knowledge of our tongue is commendable, Lieutenant," he says, his words measured. "But unnecessary. I am quite capable of understanding my own language." His gaze flickers to Kirk, the hint of a smirk playing on his lips. "However, it seems Captain Kirk here is in need of a lesson in clarity." The Romulan's tone is sharp, a clear challenge.

Kirk's smile remains, the warmth in his eyes not wavering. "Perhaps so, Commander," he concedes with a graceful nod. "But I'd like to think we're all here to learn something today." He glances over his shoulder, a subtle cue to McCoy and Spock to stand firm but not escalate. "Let's get to the heart of the matter, shall we?"

The tension in the air is palpable as Tavel makes another linguistic error, using a term that, while technically correct, holds a more hostile connotation than intended. It's clear that the Romulan's grasp of diplomatic language is not as firm as he'd like to project. His words are like a double-edged sword, cutting through the peaceful façade of the negotiations.

Castillo's voice is a low murmur in the private comm channel only Kirk, Spock, and McCoy can hear. "Guys, I'm getting a weird vibe from Tavel's language. It's almost like he's not a native Romulan speaker." Her eyes dart to the Romulan delegation, her brow furrowed in thought. "His dialect, the way he's using certain phrases... it's not quite right."

Spock's voice, ever calm, responds through the comm. "Lieutenant Castillo's observation is not without merit, Captain. The commander's speech patterns and word choices are indeed... unorthodox for a Romulan of his rank."

Kirk's eyes narrow slightly as he considers Castillo's observation. "Spock, McCoy, do we think he isn't Romulan?" He asks, his voice a mix of curiosity and concern. "Or is he trying to throw us off balance with his language?" He glances back at Castillo, his gaze lingering for a moment before returning to Tavel. "Could be a ploy, or maybe he's just... unconventional."

McCoy's voice, filled with a hint of the Southern drawl that often emerges when he's thinking, comes through the comm. "Jim, I've seen a lot of things in my time, but a Romulan with a speech tic isn't one of 'em. This ain't just 'unorthodox', it's downright peculiar."

"Indeed, Captain," Spock agrees, his eyes locked on Tavel. "The linguistic anomalies suggest that he may be an imposter or someone who has had an unusual education."

Kirk nods thoughtfully at Castillo's observation. "What sort of unusual education could result in this, Castillo?" he asks, his eyes never leaving Tavel's. "Could he be a defector, perhaps, or someone raised outside traditional Romulan society?" Kirk's mind races with the implications, his hand resting casually on the phaser at his side.

Castillo considers the question, her expression a mask of concentration. "It's possible, Captain. But without further information, it's difficult to say for certain. We should proceed with caution and keep our eyes and ears open for any additional clues."

McCoy and Spock, picking up on Kirk's train of thought, begin to engage Tavel in conversation, steering it towards topics that would reveal more about his background and allegiances. They listen intently to his speech patterns, the way he structures his sentences, and his use of idiomatic expressions. It's a delicate dance, keeping the conversation flowing while simultaneously probing for inconsistencies.

Castillo's voice crackles over the comm. "Guys, I've got something. Tavel's use of pronouns is inconsistent with high-ranking Romulan officials. He's slipping between formal and informal usage, and it's not just nerves."

Kirk turns to Castillo with a furrowed brow. "What does that mean, Castillo?" he asks, his voice a mix of curiosity and concern. "Could he be trying to hide his true identity, or is there something else at play here?"

Castillo's eyes widen slightly. "I think, Captain, that Commander Tavel might be of extremely low caste. His language patterns are closer to those of a common laborer than a military leader. It's subtle, but it's definitely there."

Kirk's gaze sharpens as he processes Castillo's revelation. "So, he's not just pretending to be an officer," he murmurs to his comrades. "He's pretending to be something he's not entirely." His hand tightens slightly on his phaser, his thumb hovering over the activation switch. "This changes things. We need to be more cautious in our dealings."

"Understood, Captain," Spock replies, his voice calm and measured. "We must proceed with both tact and vigilance. It is possible that Commander Tavel's unconventional background provides us with an opportunity for a unique alliance or insight."

"If Tavel's from a lower caste, or perhaps even a farming background, then his intentions might be more peaceful than we first assumed," McCoy says. "Farmers are generally more inclined to the soil than to the sword, if you catch my drift. Could be that he's using this opportunity to bring a different perspective to the table, one less... entangled in the usual web of military strategy and deceit." His eyes, filled with a shrewdness that belies his usual gruffness, stay focused on the Romulan.

Kirk frowns slightly, mulling over Castillo's observation. "But then why pretend to be a warrior, if his intentions are peaceful?" Kirk whispers into his comm, his gaze never leaving Tavel. "Is he hiding something, or is he truly trying to bridge a gap between our cultures? We must tread carefully, my friends. This dance of words could be a prelude to a battle of wits, or a symphony of peace."

Kirk turns back to Tavel with a disarming smile. "Commander, may I extend an invitation for dinner aboard the Enterprise, just the two of us? I believe a more... intimate setting would allow us to discuss matters in greater comfort, without the distraction of our respective entourages." His eyes twinkle with a hint of mischief as he adds, "And I've heard that Earth cuisine is quite the experience, even for a man of your... refined tastes." The unspoken challenge hangs in the air as Kirk waits for Tavel's response, his hand resting lightly on the phaser.

"Indeed, Captain," Spock says thoughtfully, his gaze flickering to McCoy before returning to Tavel. "Recently, I had the opportunity to indulge in some Earth delicacies. One dish that stood out to me was egg drop soup. The delicate interplay of flavors and textures is quite fascinating. And as for something a bit more... substantial, I believe you might find corndogs intriguing. They're a curious blend of the familiar and the exotic, much like our current situation." He offers a small, knowing smile, hinting at his own emotional growth and the depth of his experiences with human food.

Tavel regards Kirk and Spock with a cautious eye, his own hand resting on the hilt of a peculiar-looking dagger at his side. The tension is thick enough to cut with a lightsaber, but he nods. "Your hospitality is appreciated, Captain Kirk. Perhaps a private meeting will allow us to understand one another better." His gaze drifts to McCoy for a brief moment before returning to Kirk. "But beware, I come in peace, but I am not without protection."

The Starfleet personnel, with Kirk leading the way, begin their return journey to the USS Enterprise. As they prepare to beam up, Kirk's stride is filled with a blend of confidence and caution. His mind is racing with the implications of Tavel's background, piecing together the puzzle of this enigmatic figure. Upon reaching the ship, Kirk pauses for a moment, looking back at the asteroid shrinking in the viewscreen. "Corndogs, Spock?" he asks, a glimmer of excitement in his voice.

"Indeed, Captain," Spock replies, his eyes reflecting the starlight. "By presenting a variety of dishes to Commander Tavel, we may deduce more about his background based on his eating habits. Romulan cuisine is known for its complexity and subtlety, often mirroring their society's social structures. If he demonstrates familiarity with a particular dish, or exhibits a preference for certain flavors or textures, it may reveal whether he truly hails from a high-caste military background, or if his upbringing was more...humble."

Spock nods thoughtfully. "Our culinary exploration can serve a dual purpose, Captain. It can indeed provide us with a deeper insight into Commander Tavel's origins. Analyzing his preferences and reactions to Earth's diverse flavors may offer clues about his education and social upbringing. This could potentially allow us to pinpoint the region of Romulus from which he originates, or even the specific school of thought to which he was exposed." His gaze lingers on Kirk, his eyebrow slightly raised. "It is a delicate approach, but one that may yield valuable intel."

Kirk chuckles softly, his eyes alight with mischief. "I wish you could join us for dinner tonight, Spock. Your insights into Romulan culture and cuisine would be invaluable. But alas, it seems we'll have to rely on my untrained palate to gauge his reactions. I'll just have to trust my gut, and hope he doesn't see right through me when I ask for ketchup for the corndogs." He winks at Spock, the camaraderie between them unmistakable. "But fear not, my friend, I'll report back with every detail. Who knows, maybe he'll have a taste for something that'll give us the upper hand."

"Your adaptability is one of your most endearing qualities, Captain," Spock says, the corners of his mouth tw

"With your consent, Captain, I would like to install discreet observation equipment within your private dining quarters. This would enable Lieutenant Castillo and myself to monitor your interaction with Commander Tavel more closely," Spock suggests, his gaze intense. "The subtleties of his behavior and responses to various stimuli could provide critical information regarding his authenticity and intentions. It would be an invaluable tool in our quest for truth." His hand briefly touches his earpiece, indicating the seriousness of the situation. "The installation would be swift and unobtrusive, leaving no trace of our surveillance."

Kirk nods, his expression a mix of amusement and determination. "Alright, Spock. But make sure it's not so discreet that I can't find the 'off' switch if things get too... intimate." He winks, his voice low enough for only the Vulcan to hear. "I appreciate your concern, but I've dealt with more than one slippery character in my day. Besides, if he's not what he seems, a little one-on-one time might be just what we need to get to the bottom of this."

Having made their preparations, Spock, Castillo, and McCoy are ensconced in the observing room, their eyes glued to the screens as they await the arrival of Commander Tavel. The room is dimly lit, filled with the quiet hum of the ship's systems, their breaths almost audible in the tension. On the viewscreen, Tavel's shuttlecraft approaches the Enterprise, and they watch as he disembarks, his outfit a curious blend of opulence and haste. The fabrics are rich and luxurious, yet the tailoring is uneven, the garments not quite fitting as they should. It's as if he's trying too hard to appear highborn, or perhaps he's just not accustomed to such finery. His boots, though shiny, look as though they've been hastily polished, and his cuffs are slightly frayed.

Kirk, ever the charmer, meets Tavel in his private dining quarters. The room is set with a small, round table, the lighting soft and the air fragrant with the aroma of exotic spices. He pours two glasses of Saurian brandy, a nod to their shared interest in unique experiences. "Commander, I hope you find our meal tonight as... intriguing as I find your background," Kirk says with a shameless smile that could melt the coldest of Vulcan ice. His eyes sweep over Tavel, assessing his reaction to the setting and the drink. "To new beginnings, and perhaps, the unraveling of old secrets."

Tavel's eyes follow the amber liquid as Kirk swirls it in the glass, the light playing off the edges. He raises his glass in a silent toast, his expression unreadable. His gaze meets Kirk's, and for a moment, the weight of his unspoken words seems to hang in the air.

As the meal unfolds, Tavel tries everything that's offered: the corndogs with a smear of ketchup, the egg drop soup, and even the dessert, which Kirk describes as a "universal favorite" - chocolate lava cake. His willingness to partake in Earth cuisine is not what surprises the observing trio. It's his indiscriminate use of ketchup that catches their attention. He dips the corndog, the eggs from the soup, even a spoonful of the molten chocolate into the condiment, watching the reactions of his host with a twinkle in his eye. His eating habits, so uncharacteristic of a Romulan, leave Castillo, Spock, and McCoy bewildered. They cross-reference his behavior with known Romulan customs and regional preferences, but nothing fits. His palate seems to have no allegiance to any particular place on Romulus, which only deepens the mystery surrounding his identity.

Kirk leans in closer to Tavel, his smile turning a notch more charming. "Tell me, Commander," he says, his voice a purr of curiosity, "have you ever tried Earth's famous apple pie?" He gestures to the plate in front of Tavel, where a slice of the golden-crusted dessert awaits. "I find it to be quite... comforting. A taste of home, no matter where in the galaxy one might be."

Kirk's eyes sparkle with mischief as he leans in closer to Tavel, his hand resting gently on the table, close to the Romulan's. "You know, I've always found that the most interesting conversations happen over the most unexpected meals," he says, his voice dropping to a low, intimate timbre. "Like how your palate seems to be as... diverse as your life story." His gaze lingers on Tavel's face, taking in every twitch, every flicker of emotion that dances across his features. "The way you handle that ketchup, it's almost like watching a poet with a sonnet. You're either a master of disguise, or you're not from the upper echelons of Romulan society." He takes a sip of his brandy, his eyes never leaving Tavel's. "So, which is it, Commander? Are you the sonnet, or the poet hiding behind it?" Kirk's flirtatious tone is unmistakable, the question hanging in the air like the sweet scent of the apple pie between them.

Tavel's expression flickers with interest at Kirk's flirtation, his eyes lighting up with a spark that suggests he's not entirely immune to the captain's charm. However, the direct question about his origins seems to catch him off guard. He pauses, his hand hovering over the ketchup bottle as if frozen in place. The air in the room grows thick with anticipation, the only sound the faint clinking of silverware against china. For a moment, it seems as though he might reveal something profound. Then, with a coy smile, he replies, "Ah, Captain, you flatter me. I assure you, my palate is as refined as any sonnet you might compose." He pours a dollop of ketchup onto his apple pie, watching Kirk's reaction with a glint of amusement. "But the beauty of diversity, as I'm sure you're aware, is that it often hides the most intriguing secrets." He takes a bite, his cheeks dimpling slightly as he savors the combination, leaving Kirk and the others to wonder just how much of his past he's willing to reveal.

Tavel, seemingly unfazed by the tension, meets Kirk's gaze with a knowing smile. He leans in slightly, his voice taking on a flirtatious edge. "And what of you, Captain?" he asks, raising an eyebrow. "Is your appetite as... versatile as your reputation suggests?" The subtle innuendo hangs in the air as he takes a deliberate bite of his apple pie, now smothered in ketchup. His gaze never leaves Kirk's, a silent challenge that seems to echo through the private dining quarters. The crew, hidden in the observation room, exchanges glances, their eyes wide with surprise at the sudden shift in dynamics. Castillo's fingers fly over her console, recording every detail of the exchange, while Spock's eyebrow raises in his signature display of curiosity. McCoy, for his part, watches with a mix of skepticism and fascination, his thoughts racing with the implications of Tavel's playful banter.

Kirk laughs, a rich, warm sound that fills the room. "My appetite, Commander, is as vast as the universe itself," he says, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "I've found that the most... enlightening experiences often come from the most unexpected places." He leans back in his chair, his posture relaxed yet inviting. "But let's not get ahead of ourselves. Tell me more about your journey, your life on Romulus. Perhaps we'll find some common ground, or at least some common flavors." His hand reaches out to cover Tavel's briefly, a gesture that's both comforting and slightly seductive. "After all, isn't that what this dinner is about? Finding connections in a sea of stars?" Kirk's willingness to engage on a personal level, even in the face of potential danger and deceit, showcases his fearlessness and his belief in the power of unity and understanding.

As Kirk's hand covers Tavel's, a sudden telepathic connection flares to life, more intense than the one he shares with Spock. It's as though a door has been thrown open in Tavel's mind, and Kirk can feel the tumult of emotions and thoughts swirling within. The words 'duty' and 'secrets' resonate through the link, almost as if Tavel had spoken them aloud. Kirk's eyes widen slightly, but he recovers quickly, his smile never faltering. The warmth of the connection seems to spread from their hands, a silent conversation happening between them that's far more revealing than any words spoken. For a brief moment, Kirk sees glimpses of a life filled with hardship and loss, of a man torn between duty and desire. It's clear that Tavel is not what he seems, and that his true intentions are shrouded in a complex web of allegiance and personal struggle. The telepathic bond, though unanticipated, offers Kirk a new avenue of understanding, one that could potentially unravel the mystery of Tavel's identity and the fate of their peace treaty.

Kirk's gaze locks onto Tavel's, a silent understanding passing between them. "Perhaps," Kirk murmurs, his voice thick with a newfound desire that's not entirely related to diplomacy. "Perhaps we can share more than just a meal tonight." His hand slides away, leaving a trail of warmth on Tavel's skin. "A shared experience, a moment of... unity, might just be the key to unlocking the secrets we both hold so closely." The air in the room crackles with tension, the promise of something more than friendship or diplomacy lingering in the words left unsaid. Kirk's intentions are clear: to get closer to Tavel, to understand him on a level that goes beyond words and negotiations. It's a gamble, a play for trust, but one that Kirk is willing to make if it means ensuring peace for the Federation.

In the observing room, Spock and McCoy notice the sudden change in Kirk's demeanor and the electric charge in the air. They exchange puzzled glances, unaware of the telepathic exchange that has just occurred. Castillo's eyes narrow as she watches the screen, her mind racing to piece together the implications of what she's witnessing. Spock's mind, ever analytical, races through possible scenarios and outcomes, while McCoy feels a twinge of concern for his captain's safety. The connection between Kirk and Tavel, though unspoken, is palpable. It's as if they're dancing around a truth that neither is quite ready to reveal, their every gesture and glance laden with meaning. The dinner has become a dance of wills, a silent negotiation where the prize is not just peace, but a deeper understanding of the soul of their potential ally.

Meanwhile, unbeknownst to Kirk, Tavel had felt the captain's thoughts brushing against his own during their telepathic touch. The emotions, the curiosity, the hope for unity - it all floods into Tavel's mind, a torrent of human emotion that he's not fully prepared to handle. His eyes widen in surprise, the corners of his mouth quirking upwards slightly. He knows now that Kirk is not just a skilled diplomat, but a man of depth and empathy, one who might truly understand the weight of the secrets he carries. This revelation adds a new layer to their interaction, a complex web of unspoken truths that could either strengthen their bond or lead to catastrophic consequences.

As the evening progresses, Kirk's attraction to Tavel's enigmatic personality becomes increasingly evident. His eyes are drawn to every subtle movement, every flicker of expression on the Romulan's face. Tavel seems to carry the weight of the world within him, and Kirk is irresistibly drawn to the challenge of uncovering the layers beneath the surface. The telepathic connection has only intensified Kirk's feelings, allowing him to sense the maelstrom of emotions that Tavel so carefully hides from the world. It's not just the thrill of the chase that captivates him, but the tantalizing promise of a genuine connection, a bridge between two vastly different worlds. The captain finds himself torn between his duty to the Federation and his growing desire to know Tavel on a level that goes beyond the political. The air is charged with potential, each bite of food, each sip of brandy a silent declaration of intent.

Finally, unable to resist the pull any longer, Kirk leans in and kisses Tavel, a gesture that's part seduction, part declaration of intent. The kiss is deep and searching, a silent plea for understanding and a promise of protection. Tavel's initial surprise melts into something warmer, something that feels suspiciously like yearning. His arms encircle Kirk, pulling him closer, as their lips move in a silent dance of passion. The room spins around them, the stars outside the windows forgotten as the only universe that matters is the one where their hearts and minds are entwined. This intimate moment, shrouded in secrets and hope, could very well be the turning point in their delicate game of diplomacy. It's a risk, a gamble that could cost them everything, but in the heat of the moment, Kirk and Tavel are willing to take that chance. The observing trio in the next room watches the screen, their eyes wide with shock and concern, unsure of what this unexpected turn of events will mean for the future of the peace treaty and the fate of their mission.

As Kirk and Tavel succumb to their desires and begin to disrobe, the reality of their situation crashes back in like a wave. The cameras! Kirk had been so caught up in the moment that he'd forgotten to disable them. A sudden realization hits him like a photon torpedo, and he pulls back, his eyes darting around the room. "The cameras," he whispers, a hint of panic in his voice. Tavel's eyes follow Kirk's gaze to the hidden equipment that speaks of the audience he never knew they had. The passion in the air dissipates, replaced by a chilling realization of their mistake.

Kirk pulls away from Tavel, a look of regret crossing his features. "I'm sorry," he says, his voice barely above a whisper. "I didn't mean for this to happen. Not like this." He runs a hand through his hair, his mind racing as he tries to process the gravity of their actions. "The cameras, they're still on." His eyes meet Tavel's, filled with a mix of embarrassment and concern. "We can't let this compromise our mission. Our personal feelings... they can't get in the way of what we're here to do." Kirk's tone is earnest, his gaze pleading for understanding. The gravity of the situation settles over them like a heavy blanket, reminding them of the precarious tightrope they're walking between passion and duty.

Tavel's expression darkens as he realizes the full implications of Kirk's actions. The warmth of their shared moment evaporates, replaced by a cold, hard anger. "You had me under surveillance," he says, his voice icy. "You don't trust me." The accusation hangs in the air, sharp as a d'k tahg blade. It's a blow to Kirk, who had thought their connection was something more than mere strategy. The realization that he's hurt Tavel, possibly irrevocably, is written all over his face.

In the observation room, Spock, McCoy, and Castillo watch in stunned silence. The implications of what they've just witnessed are vast. McCoy's hand reaches for the control panel, his thumb hovering over the button to cut the feed. Spock's eyes narrow, his mind racing through the potential consequences of their captain's impulsive action. Castillo's gaze flickers between the two men, her thoughts racing as she tries to understand the complex web of emotions and diplomacy that's been laid bare before them. The tension in the air is palpable, even through the screens.

Kirk takes a deep breath, his hand reaching out to touch Tavel's arm gently. "No, that's not it," he says, his voice earnest. "You must believe me, Tavel. I do trust you. I want you, not just for this peace, but... for more." His eyes are filled with a raw, unfiltered need that speaks louder than any words could. "This dinner, this... connection between us, it's not just for show. I want to understand you, to know you, to share something real. But we can't let our feelings jeopardize what we're fighting for." He pauses, his hand trembling slightly. "I want this peace, more than anything. And I know you do too."

Kirk swallows hard, his voice thick with emotion. "Tavel, please, forgive me," he says, his eyes searching Tavel's face for any sign of understanding. "I never meant to deceive you or make you feel unsafe. I know that what just happened may have changed everything, but I'm begging you, don't let it ruin what we're building here." He leans in, his voice dropping to a whisper. "If you can't find it in your heart to continue our... personal negotiations, I'll understand. But for the sake of our peoples, for the sake of peace, I implore you, don't let this end the peace talks." His hand slides down to Tavel's, giving it a gentle squeeze. "You can bring anyone you trust, any protections you need. Just don't let this be the end."

Tavel's anger cools slightly at Kirk's words, his expression morphing into one of contemplation. The room remains silent, the weight of their conversation pressing down on them like the gravity of a star. He looks at Kirk's hand on his own, the warmth of the captain's touch grounding him amidst the turmoil. Finally, he nods, a single, slow movement that speaks volumes. "I understand," he says, his voice low and tightly controlled. "But know this, Kirk: the line you've crossed tonight isn't easily forgotten." His eyes hold Kirk's, a silent promise of repercussions that could ripple through their future interactions.

With a curt nod, Tavel withdraws his hand from Kirk's grasp and stands, his movements stiff with unspoken anger. He strides out of the dining quarters, leaving Kirk to contemplate the tumult of emotions that have just been unleashed. In the observation room, Spock, McCoy, and Castillo watch as the captain of the Enterprise emerges, his expression a blend of regret and determination. The air is thick with unspoken words, the tension palpable as Kirk joins them, his eyes sweeping over the trio. "Let's debrief," he says, his voice steady despite the tumult within.

As they enter the briefing room, Kirk orders the recording to be played back, his gaze never leaving Tavel's retreating form. The room is silent except for the hum of the computer as it rewinds the footage. They watch the kiss, the passion, and then the sudden retreat. The silence is heavy, filled with the unspoken questions and concerns that linger in the air. When the recording ends, Kirk turns to face his friends, his expression a mask of resolve. "We can't let this affect our mission," he says firmly. "We have to find a way to move forward, to ensure peace. Tavel's trust is crucial, and we must do everything in our power to regain it."

Castillo clears her throat, her voice calm and measured. "Spock and I have concluded from the dinner that Commander Tavel is indeed an imposter," she says, her eyes never leaving Kirk's. "His dialect, his mannerisms, they're all off. We suspect he's not from the ruling class, which explains his lack of formal training and his ability to be manipulated. His emotional response to your... approach, Captain, suggests a man who's been living a lie for too long." She pauses, allowing Kirk's words to sink in before continuing. "The peace treaty is at risk, but we may have an opportunity here. If we can convince him to work with us, to trust us, he could be a valuable asset in our negotiations."

Spock's voice cuts through the tension, cold and logical as ever. "Indeed, Captain," he says, his gaze unwavering. "Our analysis of Tavel's speech patterns and behavior at dinner have led us to deduce that he is not from any part of Romulus we are familiar with. His emotional reaction to your advances suggests a man who has been living under a false identity for an extended period. This information could be instrumental in securing the peace treaty, if handled correctly."

Kirk nods solemnly, his expression a mix of concern and determination. "Thank you, Castillo, Spock," he says, his eyes never leaving the screen. "It seems we've stumbled upon a deeper layer to this puzzle than we anticipated. It's not that Tavel isn't from Romulus, but rather that he's been living a lie, a shadow of the life he was born into. He's one of their slaves, plucked from his own world and thrust into a role he never chose." His voice is soft, filled with empathy. "We must tread carefully, for his trust is as fragile as the peace we seek to maintain. If we can convince him to ally with us, to share his truth, he could be the key to bridging the gap between our worlds. But we must ensure his safety, and treat him with the dignity and respect he's been denied for too long."

Spock raises an eyebrow at Kirk's revelation, his surprise hidden behind his Vulcan mask. "Fascinating," he says, his tone measured. "The nuances in Commander Tavel's language and behavior, particularly during our intimate dinner conversation, were inconsistent with those of a typical Romulan of his rank. His unguarded moments offered a glimpse into a life fraught with deception and struggle. If he is indeed a product of slavery, it may explain his emotional volatility and susceptibility to manipulation. Understanding his true nature is essential to forming an alliance based on mutual trust and respect." His gaze sharpens. "But we must proceed with caution, Captain. We cannot afford to underestimate the complexity of this situation or the potential repercussions of our actions."

"But how do you know he's a slave, Captain?" Spock's question is not one of doubt, but of inquiry into Kirk's line of reasoning. "The subtleties of his speech patterns, his unorthodox use of ketchup, and his reaction to the telepathic bond we shared all point towards a life of subjugation and survival," Kirk explains, his eyes reflecting the gravity of his words. "Tavel's emotional response to our connection was not that of a typical Romulan diplomat. It was raw, desperate. He craves understanding, and perhaps even love. We must be cautious in our approach, but also firm in our resolve to support him. If he truly is a slave, then our mission has taken on an even greater significance. We're not just negotiating peace; we're offering him a chance at freedom."

Kirk takes a deep breath, his eyes reflecting the weight of his revelation. "I saw it, Spock," he says, his voice heavy with the gravity of what he's about to share. "When we kissed, and our thoughts melded, I saw glimpses of his past. The way he was treated by his masters, the beatings, the humiliation, the fear. It was like watching a silent scream echo through the years. His pain was so palpable, so intense." Kirk's hand clenches into a fist at his side, a rare show of emotion from the usually stoic captain. "I know it in my bones. Tavel is not just a diplomat; he's a survivor, a man who's been forced to wear a mask his entire life. And now, he's found a moment of truth with us. We can't turn our backs on that." His eyes meet Spock's, filled with a fierce determination. "We'll find a way to help him, to bring him into the light. And in doing so, we might just save our own worlds."

Spock processes Kirk's words, his eyebrow raising slightly. "Indeed, Captain," he says, his tone reflecting his surprise. "The depth of your telepathic bond with Commander Tavel is significantly stronger than what I have ever shared with you. It suggests a profound emotional connection that transcends species barriers. This is... unprecedented." He pauses, his gaze thoughtful. "It is imperative that we handle this delicately. The implications of such a bond are vast, and the potential for both good and harm is significant. If Tavel is indeed a slave, as you suspect, then we must navigate this situation with precision. Our actions could either be the catalyst for a new era of peace and understanding or the spark that ignites a galactic war." Spock's voice is calm, but the tension in his words is clear. "Your empathy and intuition are your greatest assets in this, Captain. I trust your judgment in this matter."

Spock's gaze remains on Kirk, his mind racing with the implications of their captain's revelation. "The telepathic bond you described, Captain, suggests that Commander Tavel may indeed come from a species more telepathically adept than even the Vulcans and Romulans," he says, his voice measured and precise. "His emotional responses, while unexpected, could be a result of his species' heightened sensitivity to mental connections. If we are to proceed with this newfound information, we must tread lightly. The Romulan Empire is known for its secrets, and this could be one they are desperate to keep hidden." He pauses, his eyes flickering to the recording of Tavel. "Our mission is now twofold: to secure the peace treaty and to understand the true nature of our enigmatic ally. We must be prepared for any eventuality, for the balance of power in the galaxy may hinge upon our actions here."

Just as the tension in the room begins to ease, the comms system chirps to life, and Tavel's voice fills the briefing room. "Captain Kirk," he says, his tone cool and measured despite the recent intimacy. "I have sent a proposal for our next meeting. I await your confirmation." Kirk's eyes widen slightly, and he glances at Spock and McCoy before responding. "Thank you, Commander," he says, his voice steady. "We will review the details and get back to you shortly." The line goes silent, and the room is filled with the quiet hum of the ship's systems. Kirk turns to his officers, his expression a mix of excitement and apprehension. "Gentlemen, it seems we have our next move. Let's review the plans and prepare for what lies ahead. We have a peace to secure and a truth to uncover." The crew nods, the gravity of their mission weighing heavily on their shoulders as they disperse to their stations, ready to face whatever the cosmos has in store for them.

As the crew gathers around the holographic projection of the next meeting's location, Tavel's message comes through with additional details. "Our next meeting will be held at the neutral zone station, the Atheneum," Kirk reads, his eyes scanning the data. "Tavel is taking significant precautions. He will be accompanied by a small contingent of his most trusted guards, and he has requested a private room with no recording devices. He insists on a face-to-face negotiation, without the interference of telepathic surveillance." Kirk looks up at Spock and McCoy, his eyes filled with a mix of excitement and concern. "This could be our chance to win his trust, but we must be ready for anything. This meeting could either cement our alliance or shatter it completely."

Upon arrival at the Atheneum, the Enterprise crew is greeted by the grandeur of the ancient station. The Atheneum is a sprawling, circular structure that seems to float in the vastness of space, its gleaming silver hull adorned with intricate carvings that reflect the light of nearby stars. It's a relic from a bygone era, a testament to the beauty and ingenuity of the civilizations that once thrived in this part of the galaxy. As the Enterprise docks, Kirk, Spock, and McCoy make their way to the transporter room, their eyes scanning the grandeur of the station's central hub. The air is thick with anticipation as they step onto the gleaming transporter pad, the whine of the transporter's engines the only sound as they are beamed into the heart of the Atheneum. The transporter room's walls are lined with ancient texts and artifacts, the air scented with the faint aroma of aged parchment and metal. The floor beneath them is a mosaic of interlocking metallic tiles, each one telling a story of the cosmos in a language long forgotten. The lighting is soft, casting a warm glow that seems to emanate from the very walls themselves, creating an atmosphere that is both welcoming and eerie.

They step off the transporter pad and into the bustling corridor of the Atheneum. The walls are lined with more of the ancient texts and artifacts, a silent testament to the knowledge and history contained within the station. The corridor is wide and high-ceilinged, with arched doorways leading to various chambers. The air is cool and still, and the footsteps of Kirk, Spock, and McCoy echo faintly as they make their way to the designated meeting room. The room itself is a study in contrasts: the grandeur of the station's architecture is juxtaposed with the stark functionality of the conference table and chairs that await them. The walls are adorned with ancient tapestries depicting scenes of diplomacy and war, a stark reminder of the fragility of peace. The table is large and round, with enough space for all parties to sit comfortably, yet the chairs are sparse, as if to emphasize the gravity of the situation. Kirk takes a deep breath, feeling the weight of the moment upon his shoulders. "This is it," he murmurs to his companions. "The future of the galaxy rests on what we do here today." Spock and McCoy nod solemnly, their expressions mirroring the captain's determination. They enter the room, ready to face whatever challenges await them in their quest for peace and truth.

The Romulan guards are already present when Kirk, Spock, and McCoy enter the private meeting room. Their eyes scan the space meticulously, their tricorders held discreetly but clearly ready to detect any surveillance devices. They sweep the room in a silent ballet of precision, their movements fluid and practiced. Each guard focuses on a different section of the room, checking behind tapestries, under the table, and even the very air itself for any signs of electronic espionage. They pay particular attention to the chairs and the light fixtures, areas known for concealing such devices. Kirk and his officers watch the process with a mix of admiration and anxiety, understanding the gravity of the situation. The room falls into a tense silence as the guards complete their sweep, their expressions unreadable behind their helmets. Finally, the leader of the contingent nods to Tavel, who stands by the far wall, his eyes never leaving Kirk. "The room is secure, Commander," the guard says, his voice a low rumble. Tavel nods in satisfaction, and the tension in the room relaxes ever so slightly. "Let us begin," he says, gesturing to the table. Kirk takes his seat, his gaze locked with Tavel's, as the fate of their worlds hangs in the balance.

As they take their seats at the round table, Kirk notices that the Romulan guards have made a peculiar gesture: they have each placed a pair of gloves before their respective seats. The gloves are made of a shimmering, metallic fabric that seems to absorb light. Recognizing the implication, Kirk nods to his own officers, and they too don the gloves. The material is cool to the touch, and as they slip them on, the gloves seem to mold to their hands, leaving no gaps for telepathic interference. The room's atmosphere shifts, the air thick with the unspoken understanding that this meeting will be conducted under the strictest of conditions. The gloves serve as a silent reminder of the distrust that still lingers between their two species, a barrier that Kirk is determined to breach. Despite the physical separation, Kirk feels the weight of his bond with Tavel, the telepathic connection pulsing faintly beneath the surface. He knows that the success of their mission hinges on their ability to communicate not just with words, but with the unspoken truths that resonate between them. With a deep breath, Kirk opens the negotiation, his voice steady and firm. "Commander Tavel," he begins, "let us speak of peace and the future we wish to share." The room holds its breath, the fate of their worlds hanging on the delicate thread of their words.

Tavel's eyes narrow slightly at Kirk's opening statement, his expression a mask of calm control. "Peace is a fragile thing, Captain," he says, his voice carrying the weight of his own tumultuous past. "It requires more than words. It requires understanding, and perhaps, a willingness to sacrifice for the greater good." Kirk nods, his own eyes reflecting the same determination. "We are here to offer that understanding, Commander," he says. "And to prove that the Federation values peace above all else." Spock interjects, his voice calm and measured. "Our analyses indicate that the stability of the Romulan Empire may be at risk. The information you provide could be instrumental in preventing a catastrophic war." Tavel's gaze flickers to Spock, then back to Kirk. "The Empire is not what it seems," he admits, his voice dropping to a whisper. "There are forces at play that neither of us can fully comprehend. But I believe, together, we might find a way to change its course." The room is silent for a moment, the gravity of Tavel's words weighing on them all. Then, with a slow, deliberate gesture, Tavel reaches across the table and removes his gloves, placing them neatly beside his plate. His hands are pale and smooth, the veins standing out in stark relief against the harsh lighting. Kirk and his officers exchange a look, understanding the silent challenge that has been laid before them. With a nod to McCoy, Kirk reaches for his own gloves, pulling them off to reveal his own calloused human hands. The act is a declaration of trust, a silent promise that they are willing to lay bare their intentions. The tension in the room shifts again, the air charged with a newfound sense of possibility.

Tavel takes Kirk's bare hands in his own, the gesture a declaration of his own willingness to trust. He closes his eyes, and for a moment, Kirk feels a gentle brush against his mind, the telepathic bond between them flickering to life. And then, Tavel shows him. He shows Kirk scenes from his past, stark and vivid, as if they were happening in the very room they sat in. Kirk sees the cramped, shadowy spaces where Tavel grew up, the fear and despair etched into the faces of his fellow Reman slaves. He sees the brutal conditions they endured, the whips and the chains, the endless toil. He feels the anger and the helplessness that has fueled Tavel's rebellion, the burning desire for freedom that has driven him to this point. And then, the scenes shift. Kirk witnesses the underground Railroad that Tavel has helped to build, the secret network that smuggles Reman slaves to freedom in Federation space. He sees the risks Tavel has taken, the lives he has saved, and the lives he has lost. The Remans that fear the Federation, their eyes filled with suspicion and hope in equal measure. The images flood Kirk's mind, painting a picture of a world in turmoil, a world where the oppressed are fighting back. Tavel's voice echoes in Kirk's thoughts, a soft, insistent whisper. "We need you, Captain. We need the Federation's help. We need to be seen, to be heard. To be accepted." Kirk's heart swells with emotion, the depth of Tavel's pain and determination resonating within him. He squeezes Tavel's hands in a silent promise, his eyes filled with a newfound resolve. "We will help you," he says, his voice firm. "We will stand with you, and together, we will forge a new future for our peoples." Spock and McCoy exchange a look, the gravity of the moment not lost on them. They know that this is not just a peace treaty they are negotiating; it is the fate of an entire race.

Kirk nods solemnly, recognizing the gravity of the situation. He decides to proceed with the utmost caution, treating Tavel as if he were indeed a high-ranking Romulan, authorized to speak for the Empire. He knows that any mention of the Remans would be met with hostility and suspicion, so he keeps his thoughts guarded, allowing Tavel to guide the conversation. "Your insights are invaluable, Commander," Kirk says, his voice carrying the weight of his newfound understanding. "We are committed to maintaining peace and stability in the galaxy. If there is a way we can assist in achieving that goal, please, share it with us." Tavel's grip tightens slightly on Kirk's hands, his eyes still closed as he continues to transmit his memories. Kirk feels a swell of emotion, the pain and hope of an entire people laid bare before him. He knows that he must tread carefully, that one wrong move could mean the difference between peace and war. But he also knows that he cannot turn away from the truth. "We are here to listen, and to learn," Kirk adds, his voice a gentle assurance. "Your people's plight will not be ignored." The room is still, the only sound the faint hum of the station's systems, a reminder of the vastness of space that surrounds them. The bond between Kirk and Tavel is palpable, a silent promise that transcends the barriers of species and rank. And as they sit there, joined by their shared quest for peace, the captain of the Enterprise knows that he has found an ally in the most unlikely of places.

With a deep exhale, Kirk nods, understanding the gravity of the situation. They put their gloves back on, the metallic fabric shielding their thoughts once more. Kirk's hands are warm and slightly damp from the intensity of the telepathic exchange. He gathers his thoughts, the images of Tavel's past still vivid in his mind. "Very well," he says, his voice firm. "We will proceed with the treaty negotiations. But know this, Commander: I am committed to the freedom and equality of all sentient beings. If there is a way to support your people without compromising the peace we seek, I will find it." Tavel's eyes open, and he regards Kirk with a newfound respect. "Thank you, Captain," he says, his voice barely above a whisper. "Your compassion does not go unnoticed." Spock and McCoy exchange a look, their expressions unreadable. They know that Kirk has just made a promise that could have far-reaching consequences. But they also know that their captain's heart is in the right place, and that he will do whatever it takes to ensure that justice prevails. They resume their seats, their eyes on Tavel, as the negotiations begin in earnest. The words flow smoothly, the treaty's language precise and nuanced. Each point is debated, each clause scrutinized. And all the while, the unspoken understanding between Kirk and Tavel hangs in the air, a silent pact that goes beyond the terms of the agreement they are crafting. The future is uncertain, but in this moment, they are united in their pursuit of a better tomorrow. The room seems to hold its breath as they hammer out the details, their voices the only sound in the ancient chamber. And when at last the terms are agreed upon, they stand, their hands joined once more, not in a telepathic bond, but in a handshake of friendship and mutual respect. The treaty is signed, the ink still wet on the ancient parchment, and the room feels lighter, as if a great burden has been lifted. They have taken the first step towards a new era of peace, and Kirk knows that this is only the beginning.

As the treaty is signed, Kirk and Tavel come to a silent understanding. The immediate emancipation of the Reman slaves is not feasible due to the complex societal structures and power dynamics at play within the Romulan Empire. However, Kirk is determined to honor the promise made during their telepathic exchange. According to their new agreement, the Federation will offer economic and technological aid to help the Empire gradually reduce its reliance on slave labor. This assistance will be provided discreetly, allowing the Romulan government to save face while enacting the necessary changes internally. Tavel is hopeful that this alliance will lead to the eventual abolition of slavery within his people's society. The treaty is a delicate balance, a strategic dance of words and intentions that both sides are aware could be their salvation or their downfall. Yet, as they part ways, Kirk can't help but feel a spark of hope. The Federation's assistance is not just about politics or power; it's about recognizing the inherent dignity and worth of every sentient being. As they step back onto the transporter pad, the warmth of their newfound alliance a stark contrast to the cold metal beneath their feet, Kirk knows that they have forged a bond that could reshape the destiny of two great civilizations. The light of the transporter beam envelops them, and as they fade from the Atheneum, they carry with them the weight of their shared promise and the hope for a brighter future.

The trio of Kirk, Spock, and McCoy beam back to the Enterprise, their thoughts still reeling from the intense and emotionally charged meeting with Tavel. As they step off the transporter pad, they are met with an unexpected sight: the corridor is filled with Romulan officers and soldiers from Tavel's ship. The air is thick with tension, the Romulans' expressions a mix of confusion and suspicion. Kirk quickly assesses the situation, his hand instinctively moving to the phaser at his side. "We come in peace," he declares, his voice echoing through the corridor. The Romulans stare at them, their eyes narrowed. "Commander Tavel has agreed to our terms," Kirk continues, his voice firm but calm. "We are now allies in the pursuit of peace and justice." The Romulans look to one another, then back to Kirk, their confusion slowly giving way to surprise and, in some cases, anger. "We must inform them of the treaty," Spock says, his voice low. "Their understanding is critical to the success of our mission." Kirk nods, stepping forward. "This is Dr. McCoy and Mr. Spock," he says, his voice carrying the authority of a seasoned diplomat. "We have negotiated a peace treaty that will benefit both our peoples. We ask for your cooperation and trust in this delicate matter." The Romulans hesitate, their eyes flickering to the gloves in Kirk's pocket, evidence of the intimate bond he shares with their commander. Slowly, they begin to lower their weapons, their suspicion replaced by curiosity. Kirk knows that this is just the beginning. The real challenge will be convincing the rest of the Romulan Empire to follow Tavel's lead. But for now, they have taken the first step on a journey that could redefine the very fabric of the galaxy.

During their discussions, the Romulans have presented a critical request to Kirk. They seek a planet within Federation space where they can establish a colony for the Reman refugees. This would be a monumental gesture of goodwill, showing that the Federation is committed to the long-term stability and prosperity of the Reman people. Kirk considers the implications of such an offer, the potential political and social ramifications, and the logistical challenges involved. He knows that finding a suitable planet will not be easy; it must be a place that can sustain Romulan life, be far enough from any existing colonies to avoid conflict, and be strategically advantageous to neither side. Yet, the opportunity to provide a new home for the oppressed Remans is one that Kirk cannot ignore. He looks at Spock, who meets his gaze with a knowing nod. They both understand the gravity of the request. "We will begin the search immediately," Kirk tells Tavel, his voice firm. "Our science and exploration teams will work tirelessly to find a suitable location. We stand with you in this endeavor." Tavel's eyes light up with hope, the barest hint of a smile playing on his lips. "Thank you, Captain," he says. "I am sure the Remans will be grateful for your compassion." The crew of the Enterprise now faces a new mission, one that could have profound implications for the future of the galaxy. They must navigate the complexities of interspecies politics, the vastness of uncharted space, and the depths of their own hearts as they seek a new home for the Romulan refugees. The challenge is great, but so is the potential for change. And as they set a course for the unknown, Kirk, Spock, and McCoy are united in their determination to bring peace and justice to all corners of the cosmos.

The Romulan contingent aboard the Enterprise informs Kirk that they have been tasked with preparing the selected colony planet for the Reman refugees' arrival. The planet, a veritable Eden in a sea of stars, has been meticulously chosen for its ability to support Romulan and Reman life and its strategic neutrality. The crew, now a blend of Starfleet officers and Romulan soldiers, work tirelessly to construct shelters, establish agricultural centers, and lay the groundwork for a society that has known only oppression. Kirk paces the bridge, his eyes on the viewscreen as the planet grows larger. The sight of the blue-green world fills him with a sense of hope and purpose. He turns to Spock, who is busy at his station, coordinating the efforts. "We're getting reports of unrest on Romulus," Kirk says, his voice tight. "The Senate is divided on the issue of slavery." Spock looks up, his gaze unwavering. "The path to peace is never a straight line, Captain," he replies. "But with Tavel's influence and our support, we may yet see change." Kirk nods, his jaw set. "We've come too far to turn back now." The ship enters orbit, and the captain's voice booms over the intercom. "All hands, this is your captain speaking. Today, we stand on the precipice of history. We are not just building a colony; we are planting the seeds of a new alliance. Let us do so with honor and courage." The crew responds with a chorus of acknowledgments, their voices a testament to their shared commitment. And as the Enterprise descends into the planet's atmosphere, Kirk knows that the future of two great civilizations rests in their hands. The stakes have never been higher, but so too has their resolve. They are the architects of a new tomorrow, and together, they will forge a destiny of peace and freedom.

As the Enterprise and its Romulan counterpart, the Imperial Falcon, converge on the chosen colony planet, Kirk is struck by the Romulan officers' attentiveness to the Reman laborers. They speak to them with a respect that seems out of place in a society known for its rigid caste system and the cruel treatment of its underclass. The Remans, in turn, respond with a mix of surprise and tentative hope. Their eyes dart between the Romulan officers and the Starfleet crew, searching for signs of genuine care. Kirk watches from the bridge, his heart swelling with pride in his own people's willingness to extend a helping hand. The planet's surface is a flurry of activity as the two crews work side by side, the once-desolate landscape slowly transforming into a bustling hub of life. The Romulans, under Tavel's guidance, seem to have adopted a more empathetic approach, listening to the Remans' suggestions and addressing their concerns with surprising sensitivity. Kirk can't help but feel a sense of awe at the power of unity and compassion. This alliance, forged in the fires of adversity, is beginning to reshape the very fabric of their understanding of one another. And as the first structures rise from the ground, a beacon of hope in a galaxy too often ruled by fear, Kirk knows that they are witnessing the birth of something truly extraordinary. An image of the bustling colony forms in his mind, a tableau of diverse species working together, their hearts and minds entwined in a shared vision of a better tomorrow. He turns to Spock, who is observing the progress with his usual stoicism. "We're making history, Spock," Kirk says, a smile playing on his lips. "Let's make sure it's a history worth telling." Spock nods, his eyes reflecting the same hope. "Indeed, Captain," he replies. "The future is ours to shape."

Kirk and Tavel stand on the bridge of the Enterprise, their eyes locked in a gaze that speaks of friendship and shared determination. Tavel's voice is low and earnest as he suggests a friendly meeting between Kirk's officers and a group of Romulan officers who had assisted in preparing the planet. "To show that our relations are truly improving," he says, a hint of hope in his voice. Kirk nods, understanding the strategic value of such a gesture. "Your officers are welcome on the Enterprise," he says, extending an open hand. "A friendly chat, as you say, can go a long way in fostering trust and cooperation." The message is clear: they are willing to put aside their differences for the sake of a brighter future. The air in the room seems to crackle with anticipation as the details are finalized. The meeting is set for the evening, in the ship's lounge, a place where holographic fireplaces cast a warm glow and the scent of exotic spices fills the air. The chosen officers are those who have shown the most openness to the idea of peace and cooperation. Kirk knows that this is not just a social engagement; it is a delicate dance of diplomacy, where every word and gesture could mean the difference between war and peace. He straightens his uniform, steeling himself for the challenge ahead. As the Romulan shuttle approaches, Kirk can't help but feel a mix of excitement and trepidation. This is uncharted territory, a chance to change the course of history. And as the doors to the lounge open and the Romulan officers file in, he is reminded of the weight of his responsibility. The evening stretches before them, filled with the potential for misunderstanding and mistrust. But as they sit down, their expressions open and curious, Kirk knows that they are all here for the same reason: to build a bridge between their worlds. The conversation flows, a tapestry of cultures and ideas woven together by the threads of mutual respect. They share stories, laugh, and even engage in a friendly game of three-dimensional chess. By the end of the night, the atmosphere has shifted from one of tentative curiosity to one of camaraderie. The officers, once divided by the vastness of space and the entrenched dogmas of their societies, now share a bond forged in the fires of shared experience. And as the Romulan shuttle departs, Kirk and Tavel exchange a knowing look. They have taken a significant step towards peace, one that could resonate through the annals of galactic history.

In Kirk's quarters, the captain and Tavel share a quiet moment, the weight of their recent achievements hanging heavily in the air. Kirk pours two glasses of Saurian brandy, handing one to the Romulan commander. "It's incredible," Kirk says, raising his glass. "The way your officers have embraced the Remans, it's unlike anything I've ever seen from the Romulan Empire." Tavel's eyes darken slightly, and he takes a sip before speaking. "There's something you need to know, Captain," he says, his tone measured. "Those officers you've come to know, the ones working alongside us so willingly... they're not actually Romulans." Kirk's eyebrows shoot up, and he sets his glass down with a thunk. "What do you mean?" Tavel pauses, choosing his words carefully.

"When my ship first arrived in Federation space, it was filled with escaping Reman slaves," Tavel reveals, his gaze unwavering. "They have permanently disguised themselves as Romulans to make this colony planet possible." Kirk's eyes widen in shock, and he leans forward, his hand tightening around his glass. "But why?" he asks, his voice hushed. "To escape the tyranny of the Empire," Tavel explains. "The Remans are a strong and resilient people, but we have been subjugated for too long. This alliance, this colony, it's our chance to start anew." Kirk nods slowly, the gravity of the situation sinking in. The Romulan officers he had come to respect were actually the very people they were trying to help. The complexity of their situation deepens, but Kirk's resolve remains steadfast. "We will honor our agreement," he says firmly. "And together, we'll ensure that this planet becomes a beacon of hope for all those who seek refuge from oppression." The two leaders clink their glasses together, the amber liquid a toast to the brave souls who have chosen to stand against the tide of history. They drink in silence, the warmth of the brandy mingling with the cold reality of their shared secret. The future is uncertain, but in this moment, they are united in their quest for freedom and a better tomorrow.

Kirk looks at Tavel with a mix of admiration and concern. "I can't even begin to imagine the sacrifices they've made, living among their oppressors, pretending to be one of them," he says, his voice tinged with emotion. "But isn't it going to be hard for them, pretending to be Romulans for the rest of their lives? They'll be surrounded by their own people, yet they'll have to remain apart, maintaining this deception." Tavel nods solemnly, his gaze reflecting the weight of the decision that was made. "It is a heavy burden they bear," he agrees. "But it is a burden they carry willingly for the sake of their people. They are the vanguard of a new era, Captain. They understand that their sacrifice now can mean the salvation of the Reman race." Kirk takes a deep breath, his hand resting on Tavel's shoulder. "We'll do everything in our power to support them," he promises. "They won't be alone in this." The room is silent for a long moment, the gravity of their conversation a stark contrast to the cheerful sounds of the celebration outside. They know that the path ahead is fraught with danger and deception, but in that quiet space, their friendship feels unshakeable. And as they sip their brandy, they share a silent vow to stand together, to fight for the rights of the oppressed, and to ensure that the light of freedom burns brightly for generations to come.

Captain, I feel compelled to share something deeply personal with you," Tavel says, his voice thick with emotion. "I, too, am Reman. Our telepathic abilities are a cornerstone of our culture, a way to connect and understand one another beyond words. The Remans on this colony will find solace in their shared experiences, their minds entwined in a tapestry of thoughts and feelings. But for me, it has been a long journey to find someone I can trust with such intimacy." Kirk's eyes widen in surprise, but his expression quickly softens into one of understanding. "You've found that trust in us," he says, his voice gentle. "In me, in Spock, in McCoy, and in the entire crew of the Enterprise." Tavel nods, his eyes shining with unshed tears. "Thank you," he whispers. "Your friendship means more to me than I can express." Kirk clinks his glass against Tavel's once more, the sound echoing through the quiet room. "To new beginnings," he says, his voice strong and sure. "And to the enduring bond between our peoples." They drink deeply, the warmth of the brandy a symbol of the friendship that has grown between them, a friendship that could redefine the very fabric of their existence. The stars outside their window seem to shine a little brighter, a testament to the hope that now burns in their hearts. They stand together, two leaders from worlds apart, bound by a shared vision of a universe where no one is left behind, and all are free to pursue their destinies.

As the night deepens, Kirk and Tavel find themselves drawn together, their shared experiences creating an unspoken bond that transcends the boundaries of duty and diplomacy. They take each other's hands, the warmth of their skin a stark contrast to the cold metal of the table between them. Their eyes lock, and in that moment, they realize that the spark of attraction they felt during their initial telepathic connection has not been extinguished. It has grown, fanned by the flames of their shared passion for justice and their yearning for companionship in a galaxy that often seems cold and unforgiving. They form a telepathic bond once more, this time not out of necessity but out of desire. Their thoughts intertwine, a dance of yearning and hope that leaves no room for doubt. They both long for each other romantically, a feeling that is both surprising and exhilarating. In the quiet of Kirk's quarters, with the ship's engines humming a steady bass line, they allow themselves to feel the full force of their emotions. It is a revelation, a moment of pure connection that fills them with a warmth that is as comforting as it is thrilling. They understand that their newfound love is fraught with complexity, with the potential to upend the delicate balance of their alliance. But as they stand there, hand in hand, they also know that it is a risk worth taking. For in the vastness of space, the most precious thing of all is the warmth of the heart that beats beside yours, the touch of the hand that understands your soul. And as they lean in, their foreheads touching, they share a silent promise: to navigate the treacherous waters of their interstellar romance with the same courage and conviction that guides their mission for peace.

Kirk leans back in his chair, his gaze thoughtful. "Tavel," he says, his voice low and serious. "I have an idea. One that could take our alliance to new heights and truly cement our bond." Tavel looks at him, curiosity piqued. "What do you propose?" Kirk takes a deep breath, his eyes shining with determination. "I think you should formally request the Romulan Empire to assign you to the Enterprise, as an official liaison. This would show the Senate that our friendship is not just a fleeting moment, but a strategic partnership for the betterment of both our peoples." Tavel's eyes widen, the implications of Kirk's suggestion sinking in. It would mean living among the very beings he had once considered enemies, but the thought of working side by side with Kirk, of continuing their mission of peace and exploration, fills him with excitement. "It's a bold move," he says, his voice filled with admiration. "But one that could change everything." Kirk nods, his eyes never leaving Tavel's. "We've come this far," he says. "Let's not stop now." The air in the room seems to crackle with the electricity of their shared vision. They know that their relationship, both personal and professional, will face challenges. But as they stand together, their hands still clasped, they are ready to face whatever the universe throws at them. For they are no longer just captain and commander, but comrades in arms, fighting for a future where love and understanding conquer all. And with that, they set a course not just for the colony but for the stars themselves, ready to boldly go where no one has gone before, together.

Kirk and Tavel find themselves lost in each other's eyes, the gravity of their situation giving way to the intensity of their feelings. They lean closer, the warmth of their breath mingling as their lips meet in a tender kiss. It is a moment of pure connection, a silent declaration of love that transcends the barriers of language and species. Their hands roam, exploring the contours of each other's faces, tracing the lines of their jaws and the arches of their eyebrows. The kiss deepens, becoming a passionate exchange of emotions and desires. The stars outside the window of Kirk's quarters seem to hold their breath, as if watching the unfolding of a new chapter in the cosmic saga of love and friendship. The world around them fades away, leaving only the two of them, entwined in a dance as old as time itself. They make out, their bodies pressed together, hearts beating in sync. It is a moment of intimacy that feels both stolen and absolutely right, a promise of a future filled with shared adventures and quiet nights under alien skies. The kiss lingers, a beacon of hope in a universe that often seems cold and indifferent. But in that moment, Kirk and Tavel know that they have found something that not even the vastness of space can tear apart: a love that burns as bright as the stars they navigate, a bond that is as strong as the steel hull of the Enterprise itself.

Kirk and Tavel, their hearts racing with the excitement of their shared revelation, begin to remove their uniforms, each movement a silent testament to their trust and desire. The soft rustle of fabric and the gentle clank of metal as they discard their rank insignia echo through the dimly lit room. Their eyes never leave each other's, the connection between them growing stronger with every layer that falls away. Kirk's chest is bare, revealing the scars of battles past, a map of his life's journey. Tavel's skin is cool to the touch, a stark contrast to Kirk's warmth. They move towards the bed, a symbol of comfort and unity amidst the cold vastness of space. The mattress sighs as they lay down, their bodies fitting together as if they had been made for this very moment. The room is filled with the faint scent of their desire, a heady mix of sweat, cologne, and the faint metallic scent of their respective species. Their kisses become more urgent, their hands more exploratory, as they seek to know each other fully. The bedcovers are soon discarded, leaving them exposed under the soft glow of the room's ambient lighting. Their kisses become a symphony of passion, a silent language that needs no translation. They are not just captain and commander anymore, but lovers, bound by a love that is as vast and as uncharted as the cosmos itself. And as they move together, their bodies entwined, they know that they have found something that can survive the harshest of realities, a love that is as eternal as the stars they explore.

#mlm #james t kirk #spock #leonard mccoy #spones #original character #romulans #Remans #Queer #romance #telepathy #peace treaty #slavery #underground railroad #fanfic #fanfiction #star trek #star trek original series #Planetary Perception and Pursuit

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hedgiwithapen · 1 year ago

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Prompt: instead of whatever happens with gorillas and mad science, Jimmy meets Chewbacca in the woods (Intelligent! Alien!! Gorilla-ish!!!)

Bigfoot has a crossbow. That’s all Jimmy can comprehend. Bigfoot’s real (he KNEW IT!) and he has a crossbow. Which, on the one hand, would be great! He’s got proof, which he can rub in Steve’s very stupid face. On the other hand, the crossbow’s pointed at him, and Jimmy is very, very aware of how squishy he is.

He really, really wishes Clark was here. Not just for the moral support but the whole Superman thing? extremely useful for when Bigfoot holds a guy at crossbow-point.

"Hey, Chewwie, you find any..." A voice from the underbrush trails off. The guy stares at Jimmy. Jimmy stares at the guy. Bigfoot makes a noise that rattles Jimmy's actual teeth.

"Yeah, fine, you were right, the planet is inhabited," the guy says.

"...is Bigfoot an alien?" Jimmy blurts out.

Bigfoot--Chewwie?-- makes another noise and oh! ok! Teeth!

"He didn't mean to insult you," the guy says to Bigfoot--to bigfoot! they're communicating! This is the best day of Jimmy's LIFE. Even if it might be the last? "right? He's sensitive about his feet."

"Oh! No, no, not trying to offend you, Mr, uh... Squatch?"

"Chewbacca," the guy says, adjusting his black vest, which lets Jimmy see the gun in his belt. Which, ok, somehow that makes this way more weird!

"Bless you."

"Huh? No, his name. Who are you?"

"Uh....I'm Flamebird?" Jimmy tries.

"Weird name. Alright, kid, is there a, I dunno, Refueling station around here? We're a little low on supplies because someone thought this was gonna be a fast trip."

This time, at least, the low growl is aimed at vest-guy.

"ok, ok, that someone was me. Fine! you always have to be right."

"Like a gas station?" Jimmy asks. "Uh... there's one a couple miles down the road..."

"What's gas?" the guy says. "Never mind, it'll probably work."

Chewwie growls again.

"Could you maybe not point that at me?" Jimmy asks. "Seriously?"

"Well, stop staring at him. Bad manners."

"Says the guy who hasn't introduced himself," Jimmy mutters.

"Han. Now, what direction?"

Jimmy frowns, trying to get his bearings. He takes a step. A thin wire breaks across his shin.

"Oh," he says, as a laser beam cuts through a tree just in front of him. "That's not good."

Chewwie turns the crossbow towards the robot (the ROBOT!!) shooting at them and before Jimmy can blink the thing is just. Gone.

"Ah, kriff. More of these droids."

"More?" Jimmy squeaks. "Waitwaitwait, is your crossbow a laser? that is so COOL!"

"They've been after us all kriffing night. Which way's this road of yours?"

"Uhhhh, this way. C'mon."

Jimmy has time to see the guy take out two more robots with his laser-gun. The guy must see the stars in his eyes because when they stop running for a second, he starts talking again.

"It's a blaster. Haven't you ever seen a blaster, kid?"

"Flamebird," Jimmy says. "And not one that looks like that?"

"I'm not calling you that. What do you mean, it's the most common model on the market? You got your head in the sand?"

"No," Jimmy says, defensive. "So why are robots chasing you?"

"Droids," the guy corrects. " Might have... gently landed my ship into a bunch of them."

"...Your ship? like... space ship?"

"What other kind of ship is there? I'm Han Solo, captain of the Millennium Falcon. You're welcome for saving your life."

Jimmy frowns. He's got a head for names, especially of names of Weird Shit Most People Think Is Fake. He's never heard of either of those. "The what?"

Han groans. "I hate this planet."

#dammit hedgi day 2023 #My adventures With Superman #Star Wars #I dunno my dudes! I guess Jimmy gets to go to space?

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hazelkjt · 3 months ago

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🍑 Where is your OC’s favourite place to relax or calm down? Recount a story of their time spent in this place! What makes it so special to them?

Is there anywhere your OC hates to go to? Anywhere that stresses them out or have negative memories of?

🧡 Who is your OC’s favourite person? Why is this person the top of their list and have they actually met them (an idol or rolemodel or celeb can be someone’s favourite after all!).

Who does your OC absolutely hate, the one person who they’d sell to Satan for one corn chip? Why do they loathe this person so?

1. Anywhere that there’s a medium to large sized body of water for Hazel to soak and swim in is her favorite place to go to calm down. Her current go to place are the pools in the Firmament, where she can frequently be seen both enjoying the water and hanging around the side enjoying a book.

It holds a special place in her heart as well, it was the place she truly became acquainted and befriended Emmanellain. He was visiting the pools at the time to mingle and gossip, catching sight of the young woman he chatted with at a party just a few nights ago. They began chatting again and after an off handed comment where Emm expressed his envy over Hazel’s musculature, Hazel blurts out that she could help him with training if he wanted. She wasn’t fully thinking, not after getting a genuinely sincere compliment from a handsome and shirtless man in front of her face. Emmanellain agreed, aloof to the situation unfolding because of his own actions, which began the journey the two would take to becoming friends and then something more.

While she enjoys certain parts of Ishgard, there are other parts of Coerthas Hazel holds in very low regard. The Coerthas Western Highlands just outside of Falcon’s Nest for instance is one of her least favorite places to be. Hazel has come to accept the average cold in Coerthas, Ishgard specifically, so long as it isn’t snowing. That doesn’t matter with the Western Highlands, it’s cold all day long regardless of weather.

On top of this, these frigid cliffs and hills were where Hazel still trains under Lia Amelune in the ways of the Dragoon. The training was brutal, reaching intensity even above what her own father put her through back in the Steppe. And while Hazel is forever grateful to Lady Amelune for taking the time to teach her, she has had issues with her mentor's methodology on more than one occasion. Hazel has never acted or spoken up about these feelings to Lia, out of respect for her teacher and her own pride. Still, coming back to this area just brings back all those bitter memories she keeps to herself.

2. Hazel's favorite person is without a doubt her father, Baato Kha. A well respected hunter and warrior in his own right, she has always looked up to him as both a parent and her personal hero. Strong and decisive, just being in his presence was enough to put her at ease as a child. Even now living an ocean away and meeting so many other incredible people, Hazel still hold her father in the highest regard.

As for her least favorite person, it depends on if we're talking Reg!Hazel or WoL!Hazel. For Reg!Hazel, it would probably have to be the captain of the Amelune Family Knights, Derrinall Evramont. Hazel's hatred stems from one simple thing: his apparent lack of respect for her. Derri always addresses her with a sarcastic and playful tone to his voice, backhanded compliments and jabs aplenty in his words. Even after months of living in the Amelune estate she still hasn't come around to him at all.

WoL!Hazel on the other hand, loathes Emet-Selch. The Ascian could make all the excuses or justifications he wants for the blood on his hands, none of it would matter to Hazel. All she would see is a fool who thought he had no other choice but to continue on his path of genocide, unable to accept any other alternative...or so she thought at first. The reason she came to despise him above the other Ascians was because of his extension of cooperation in Norvrandt... cooperation that slowly had Hazel come to genuinely trust him. And then on Mt. Gulg, that trust was betrayed at the drop of a hat. She was so certain that Emet had truly taken the right choice, only to see him delve deeper and deeper down the dark pit he had made for himself already.

#tyty for the ask!!#ffxiv #shadowbringers spoilers #ffxiv oc #au ra #xaela #hazel kha #Reg!Hazel #WoL!Hazel #emmazel

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the-firebird69 · 2 years ago

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Nothing just happened there yet except they did find this millennium falcon and they found it on set. They couldn't believe it so they coordinated off I left it that way even though they think it might fly he decided to answer the fuel and figure out how it got there. It arrived there about 2 years ago and it was me flying it and I went there and I was trying for the key no I was putting the key there yes and it was for the movie and I read the plot and there was a key there already and it looks similar but it looks kind of cheesy even those little smaller and I switched them out. He says they didn't notice and the ship is there. So I said losing the ship was there for I said the steal something and I said what and it didn't say anything. There's only a few things there but I could have been something else and they did the movie and they put the keys back like weirdos they didn't even try to figure out what it was or remember and now they have both they say the key and a way out of there Ken thinks activating it will give our people a hard time so he wants to go do that and it'll be a big fight and there's a Galactus underneath and he's only about 10 miles and ya it's a she he says. It is a very famous falcon and it's not from Chauncey it's from hockomock and it is the one that I used to Kal-El off the planet and you guys missed it

Hera

Zues

He says that's terrific work but you left our s*** there and it was spotted and the club was messed up a little I left it cloaked. Fled fast on a speeder fly motorcycle. And yes is the light cycle one of bills and someone out there has film of it and it was closed but you can still see it outline and they start making them afterwards I hear

Hera

Um um aah was spotted again

Zues

Yeah I got that

Hera

It wasn't me out of captain of course

Rey

I don't think we have a problem here stop talking about this key since they're too that key is to become one stop talking about it this is horrible

Ken

Night shift Ken can you get it to work maybe bring chewy with you

Zues

Maybe

Ken

You almost knobs and a bunch of snobs and stuff works better this is my design I'm going to see what's wrong with it what the hell it's doing there and what they intend on doing with it it says they intend I'm going to Florida and switching out the fake one when I get there and I'm never going to get there and we noticed that

Joe m

You are a fat lazy stupid and pretty much lame as hell I had a little activate the machine of someone else's probably our friend here owns it it's all churches and stuff you stupid assholes sacrifice yourselves you b**** and that's what it means

Preston

Oh humbug Preston

Zues

Haha

Hera

Well maybe the clans it's more appropriate for a bunch of sickles then again these people don't care for us for a bunch of reasons that are sick and we're sick yes

Preston

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a-lonely-dunedain · 2 years ago

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ok scratch that we're doing part 2 now! sorry, other asks in the ask box, i WILL get to you but it was important that Ethedis and Corunir get to snuggle a little bit. priorities. (ft. a surprise guest appearance from @hallothere 's Bregadir! he was too worried about his lil cousin he had to stick around in the background)

------

Corunir eventually comes to. It’s dark, but he can make out a canvas roof above him. He is too weak to move, he knows he is still hurt though so he would dare not try even if he were able. He searches his fleeting memory to figure out how he got here.

He was in the caves, someone let him out, there was fighting and he tried to help, but he collapsed at some point. He remembers a terrible pain on his stomach, the sound of rushing water, and Golodir and Ethedis’ voices… which was strange, for he also remembers being told Eth had been taken to Isengard and was likely dead. Was he truly near enough to death that he could hear her beyond the veil? No, that isn’t right, Ethedis was there, alive. He saw her in the fighting.

He notices a weight on his right arm and looks down to find Ethedis there beside him. Curled up small with her head on his shoulder. Her hair is down and her signature bright green robes are no more, instead she is clad in a spare ranger’s tunic; more than a size too big for her, but it looked comfortable at least. She is awake, but has not yet noticed that he is as well. Instead her eyes remain fixed on something to the other side of him, brow knit with worry. He follows her gaze to his left and sees Tossdir there with Bregadir beside him, they’re both asleep. Tossdir is covered by a thick blanket, so he cannot see the extent of his injuries, but between the pained expression on his face and the worry in Ethedis’ eyes Corunir can tell he sustained some grievous hurt… but he is alive.

He has to double check, he sees his chest slowly rising and falling, he is breathing, he is alive. It’s far better than he could have hoped for, the Falcons told those in the caves that Tossdir had been killed. He remembers all too vividly the sound of Bregadir’s broken sobs from a nearby cell.

He looks back to Ethedis “…Eth?” He says quietly, careful not to wake their sleeping friends. She looks up at him, wide eyes filled with relief.

“Oh, Corunir, you’re awake… thank the Valar, you’re awake…” she tries to smile.

He wants to hug her but he has not the strength. He wants to cry but he has no tears left. He wants to ask her how many of them are left, how many of his other friends survived (if any at all), he wants to ask her how she and Tossdir had seemingly returned from the dead, but instead a husky “...Are you alright?” is all he manages.

“Better than most…” she mumbles

“I feared I would not see you again.”

“So did I.”

“How… How did you make it back? They said you were taken to Isengard, and that Tossdir had been killed…”

“He almost was…” A pained expression crosses Ethedis’ face. “But we escaped. Somehow. It’s… a bit of a blur still, I do not think I can recount the tale right now…”

"It's alright, you don't have to. I'm just glad you're back..."

There is silence for a little while.

“How fared Golodir?” he finally asks, almost reluctantly. He knows many are dead, and he dreads learning of the death-toll, but he needs to know if his captain made it out. He thinks he heard his voice earlier, but he has to make sure.

“He is well. Not great, none of us are, but he was in good enough shape to help me stabilize you after… well, you know.” Corunir doesn't know, actually, but he assumes the memory will come back to him soon enough whether he wishes it or not.

“He is still nearby I think,” Ethedis continues “I heard him talking to someone outside the tent a little while ago. No doubt he would be in here too if there was any room.” this tent was really too small to comfortably accommodate four people, but Bregadir would not be separated from Tossdir nor would Ethedis be apart from either of her rangers, so the cramped accommodations would have to do for now. It was warm at least.

Ethedis looks back to Tossdir, still in uneasy slumber.

“But Toss nearly… he almost didn’t make it” she whispers, her eyes becoming misty. “I shouldn’t have let him go in… he was in no condition to fight, but he insisted and I was foolish enough to believe him… I nearly cost him his life.” her voice trembles in the unmistakable way of someone on the brink of sobbing.

“Hey, shhh, it’s alright. You did the best you could, that’s all anyone could ask of you”

“He… he was calling to Meneldir earlier. I think he was there, on the other side, or near enough to it. It was my fault…”

“It was not. No one is at fault in this but that cursed wizard and Lheu Brenin.” the name feels bitter in his mouth. “I know you did everything you could.”

Ethedis says nothing, still looking across at Tossdir.

Tossdir had become like a little brother to him, though it was something he would never say out loud. He thought it would be poor form to tell Tossdir such, that it might sound like he was trying to usurp the place Meneldir once held. But spoken or not, that was the bond he shared with the young ranger, and he felt responsible for him. Well, he had a habit of making himself responsible for everyone, but Tossdir moreso. Words fail to describe the despair he felt upon seeing that red scarf of his being flaunted around by one of the falcons as a spoil of battle, for he knew Tossdir would rather die before giving it up, so at the time it gave undeniable proof to their claim that he was dead.

But, he is not dead, he’s right there, his scarf folded neatly beside him. The knot in Corunir’s chest finally started to unwind at the sight of him and Ethedis. He was so sure that he lost them…

He notices Ethedis is struggling to keep her eyes open. How long has she been awake for?

“You should rest now.” he gently says.

“Can’t… Toss still hasn’t woken up. I need to make sure…”

“It’s alright, I will watch him. I’ll wake you if anything happens” with no small effort, he pulls the blanket up over Ethedis’ shoulders. She feels unusually cold. He holds her a little closer, carefully though, for he can feel bandages under the loose-fitting shirt.

“You need sleep too…” she halfheartedly protests, her eyes already half closed.

“Is that not what I have been doing? More than you have at least.” He is exhausted, but Ethedis has already been fighting to keep awake for who knows how long, it’s only fair he takes on some of that burden for her sake. He thinks he’s too worried to sleep now anyway.

Ethedis does not have the strength to argue. She just gives in and closes her eyes, trusting Corunir to take care of things for a little while. His embrace is warm and soft, it is futile to fight sleep here anyway. She buries herself a little further into the safety of his arms, and drifts off soon after.

12.............. with Corunir?

So you have chosen... Tur-Morva. *evil laughter* wherein the rescue instance goes horribly awry in a canon-compliant way

“Eth… Help me” Ethedis hears a weak but familiar voice behind her, one that she would be overjoyed to hear in any other circumstances and speaking any other words. She was a split moment from sprinting down the tunnel, where she had heard Bregadir frantically calling for a healer mere seconds ago.

Instead, she stops and pivots around to see Corunir collapsed on one knee, breathing heavily and bleeding more so, a deep shadow of crimson growing beneath him. Horror sets in the pit of her stomach.

She stoops to steady him just in time as he falls forward into her arms. “I think… wounds reopened…” he mutters faintly as Ethedis struggles to reposition him to asses his injury.

“Corunir…?” No response “…Corunir!” She calls frantically, still to no avail. He’s fading fast. She fights to bury the panic welling up in her heart. She has to stay calm if she is to have any hope of saving him. She prays someone else heard Bregadir’s call for a healer, she cannot help both of them.

There is a long cut on his stomach, that seems to be the primary source of the blood. The wound is not fresh, seeming days old yet healing very poorly. No doubt an injury sustained during the Grey Company’s capture and left to fester after he was thrown into that dark cell, just beyond the reach of his kin. It seems to have reopened in the battle. His strength has already been long spent, and this rapid loss of blood would be enough to push him over the edge. His face is pale and his breath slows with each moment, he is minutes away from death.

She puts her hand to the wound, applying as much pressure as she can in her already weakened state. “Please… just hang on. Just a little longer…” she pleads, blinking away tears. He cannot hear her.

She takes a deep breath and turns her mind outwards, beyond herself and this small corridor. She does not know how deep below the earth they are, but deep enough that she cannot hear the slumbering trees or even reach their roots, but she doubts they would be willing to lend her their power anyway, not while it’s still winter. She keeps searching. She finds some moss, it wants to help, but it is too small for this task.

After a search that, in reality, barely lasted a moment yet it felt like hours, she finally finds something. An underground river, flowing swift and strong beneath the earth, unaffected and uncaring of all else, yet holding great power. She begs the dark cold waters for aid, to lend her its strength and grant this dying man in her arms new life.

‘Please. Please just buy him a little more time. Let me save him. It isn’t his time yet. Not here. Please.’

There is nothing. The river has no reason to care. She fears it will give her nothing.

Nothing, and then the sound of rushing water thundering in Ethedis’ ears alone, the shock of cold water in her veins, and an unfamiliar power flowing through her hands. Flowing like a torrent of water too powerful for her to tread in such a weakened state, yet tread it she must. She sends it into Corunir’s near-lifeless body. Close the wound, stop the bleeding, give him the strength to survive.

There is water now, but not from the river, it flows from Ethedis’ eyes. Her hands tremble and her arms burn as though she has been swimming against the current of an ocean. Acting as a conduit of power such as this would test her limits even on a good day, and this was anything but ‘a good day’.

She cannot do this. She cannot hold onto this river. Corunir is still bleeding. If she stops now it will not be enough to save him, but she cannot hold on. More water escapes her eyes, a sob from her throat.

Suddenly she feels another set of hands atop her own, calloused, worn, and strong. A familiar voice beside her, it belongs to Golodir.

“Easy, Ethedis, easy. You’re doing well. It will be alright.” If he is afraid, his voice will not betray it, and that is all the better for Ethedis.

With the practiced confidence only an experienced captain could possess, he manages to steady her. She can hold on a little longer, she is not fighting alone, Golodir found them. He says it’s going to be ok, and she believes him.

She keeps it up just long enough, but not a moment more. She cracks open one eye and sees Corunir's bleeding has finally slowed, if not stopped altogether. Some color has returned to his face as well. She thinks it is safe to stop now. She looks over to Golodir and sees worry in his eyes, but no fear. He simply nods at her, she thinks she hears him say something, but she cannot make out the words. She lets go and collapses. She thinks Golodir caught her, but her body is numb with cold and she can’t feel much of anything. He calls out to her, but she lacks the strength to respond and consciousness quickly abandons her. Corunir is alright at least. Golodir found them, everything will be alright.

(Yaaay Golodad to the rescue! there was meant to be another part to this, where Corunir comes to later and actually has the chance to talk to Ethedis, but it wasn't coming together fast enough so I'll probably just add that part *gestures vaguely* "later". I DO like what I had so far, but it was my first time actually properly writing dialog between those two and I wanted to make sure I did a good job, ya can't rush it. you'll see it later.)

#there we go I finally wrote dialogue between him and Ethedis #I hope it's actually good #my greatest fear is giving other Corunir Fans the ''he would not fricking say that''#lotro fic #lotro #Corunir #lotro oc #Ethedis #Tossdir #another guest appearance from Bregadir #ask games

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svmbucky · 4 years ago

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it still astonishes me that tfatws is almost entirely founded on steve’s decisions in endgame and their aftermath and yet there’s like... no discussion of the emotional fallout of those decisions on the characters. like, obviously we see the sequence of events following steve giving the shield to sam and leaving, but why does hardly anyone get to talk about how that made them FEEL?? particularly the protagonist who should be feeling a LOT of ways about this?? you’re telling me sam doesn’t even feel a little betrayed that steve would leave him like that?? frustrated that his FRIEND would dump that weight on his shoulders on such short notice?? he doesn’t miss steve enough to mention it?? he isn’t shaken by someone he was so loyal to ostensibly just abandoning him and arguably really letting him down?? idk it’s just wild to me that none of that ever got addressed in virtually any capacity

#deer.txt #justsamwilson #sam wilson #steve rogers #tfatws #endgame #captain america #the falcon #like ik its because we're supposed to see steves decisions as good and like.#not something that probably ended up traumatizing sam but like. what the fuck what the fuck!!!!#sam got snapped for five fucking years and he comes back and nat is dead and tony is dead and yknow #instead of staying around and taking care of his friends steve is like peace out!!!!!!!! btw have fun being cap #with no warning. like at all #and sam is just fine and cool with this. agrees with this decision fully. doesnt think about it much #HUH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#also like again. we see a sequence of events following steve leaving. i understand that.#but wheres the like. impact #imo its another symptom of tfatws's terrible 'not letting sam talk about himself' thing which is a crime in its own right #but the more time goes on the more plot holes and discrepencies and disappointments arise bc of it #probably bc. if youre going to write a show. probably the protagonist should be centered. YAKNOW!!!!!#anyway heres samposting for the day <3 i will love him bc his show did not.#cap 4 do better. cap 4 do better. cap 4 do better

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tryingmybestpls · 4 years ago

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Not A Team: Part 2- New World Order

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: The Reader gives a speech at the opening of Steve’s exhibit and has a talk with Sam following his speech.

Rating: T

Word Count: 4.1k

Warnings: SPOILERS FOR THE FALCON AND THE WINTER SOLDIER, talks of death, talks of mental illness, feelings of isolation

Read Part One here

Listen to the playlist inspired by the series here

Y/N felt like coming here today was a mistake.

Her stomach tossed and turned like a stormy sea, threatening to send her breakfast all over Rhodey's shiny shoes. She was second guessing everything. Was her dress nice enough? Rhodey had told her she looked great, but she hadn't worn a dress since Steve's funeral-Oh God, what if he was lying to her? No, he wouldn't lie to her-but what if he felt bad? Jesus, dd her shoes look stupid? Maybe she shouldn't have worn heels-but then she always wore heels with dresses and if she wore flats that would look childish. Did her speech sound coherent? Fuck, what if she messes up. Would they think she was doing it on purpose out of retribution for what Steve did? No, they didn't know what Steve did, what he had done to her. What if-

"Hey, hey. What's wrong? You look like you're going to blow chunks." Rhodey cuts through her thoughts like a hot knife through butter. He puts his hand on her back, "Breathe, Y/N."

"Maybe this a bad idea, Rhodey. I mean they have Sam. I think Sam can handle this." She stumbles over her words, trying to calm herself down. Her heart was racing a hundred miles a minute and she swore her hands were shaking,

"You're going to be okay, but you need to relax. I've read and reread your speech a dozen times. It's perfect." Rhodey tries to soothe her, his hand rubbing her back. Y/N squeezes her eyes shut, working on slowing her breathing. In through her nose and out through her mouth.

"Hey pretty lady, I was wondering where the exhibit is. I'm supposed to be giving a speech there today." A voice calls out, sending Y/N's eyes flying open. She turns on her heels, being greeted by the sight of Sam walking towards them, holding the leather case that carries the shield. Y/N can feel the tension melting out of her shoulders as a smile spreads across her nervous face.

"Rhodey, I think they might be letting anyone speak here today." Y/N teases, the anxiousness slipping away, releasing its hold on her. Rhodey chuckles, shaking his head at his friend's antics. She hadn't seen Sam since the days following Steve's funeral and right now, he's a welcome sight. Sam rests his hand over his heart, feigning hurt as he gets closer.

"You wound me, woman." Sam jokes, smiling right back at her. They embrace, her arms wrapping around his neck as his go around her waist, "I missed you, kid."

"I've missed you too, Sammy." She murmurs back, squeezing her eyes shut for a moment. They pull away and Sam smiles at her, the skin around his eyes wrinkling. Rhodey clears his throat, gently touching Y/N's upper arm.

"Hey I need to go talk to some people, alright?" Rhodey announces, almost as if he is asking permission. Y/N just smiles and nods, the smile staying on her face until he walks away from the two.

"How are you feeling, Y/N?" Sam questions, to which Y/N sighs, looking down at her shoes. She stays quiet for a moment, feeling his eyes on her.

"You want the truth or you want me to tell you what I tell Rhodey?" She replies, looking back at him. Y/N shifts from one foot to another, glad they were far from the crowd that was gathering. He gives her a look, giving her an answer without opening his mouth. She sighs again, twisting her wedding ring around her finger.

"I don't sleep, not really. I get maybe an hour a night if I am lucky. I-The house is filled with boxes that I can't unpack because-" Her voice cracks, her chest rising and falling quickly. She bites the inside of her cheek, forcing herself to not cry, "I thought that leaving the apartment would make him go away, but it didn't."

"Well Steve was always stubborn." Sam responds, making a laugh bubble out of her throat before she could stop it. There was an "I'm sorry" buried in the joke and Y/N knew it, but decided to only focus on the joke.

The stage looked daunting.

She forced herself up those steps, the person who had introduced her still had his hand outstretched towards her. Y/N wondered if she could make a run for it. Sure people will be mad at her, but she won't be forcing herself through this. Everything seemed to be moving in slow motion, the clapping nothing but a ringing in her ears. For a moment, her eyes landed on the giant banner of her husband, a lump forming in her throat. He was watching over her, his face emotionless as his eyes seemingly followed her every step. Cameras flashed as she stood on the stage, striding over to the podium. Once she stood in front of it, a hush fell over the crowd.

Y/N Rogers had saved thousands of lives. She was an Avenger and had faced countless foes. Hell, her wedding had more people in attendance than this event, but she still felt sick to her stomach. Y/N gave them all a smile as she forced herself to calm down, swallowing hard before speaking.

"To say that Steve Rogers was a special man is putting lightly. He was a hero that many of us, myself included, aspired to be one day. And while many of you only knew him as Captain America, I was among the lucky few that got to know him just as Steve Rogers. Now I could stand up here and tell you about every battle he won, how valiantly he fought-but everyone else is going to do that. Hell, you can read about it in the exhibit." Y/N chuckles, blinking away the tears in her eyes as the crowd laughs.

Y/N finds Rhodey and Sam in the crowd, both of them giving her smiles of encouragement. Out of the corner of her eye, she can see the diamond on her wedding ring sparkling in the light. It's the first time she's worn it in a while, but it felt almost right to wear it. Once again, she's pretending like Steve didn't leave her. No, Y/N is ignoring that completely, almost blissfully. These people only know Steve as Captain America, as a god-damned American hero. She isn't going to tarnish that, won't ruin his legacy. And regardless of what Steve did to her, she is still in love with him and she wants to talk about the man she fell in love with, not the one that hurt her. Y/N inhales and exhales shakily before continuing.

"Steve was so much more than just Captain America. He was my best friend and my husband. He was the type of man to pick up flowers for you just because. The type of man to tell you that you looked really pretty even though you were covered in dirt and ash. He would let me go on and on about things that didn't even matter, but with the way he paid attention you would think that I was telling him the secrets of the world. Steve loved staying in and having movie marathons-he-he had a list he'd carry with him to write down things he needed to learn about. Before we dated, he would text me randomly, asking me why Jar Jar Binks is hated so much or asking me to explain what emojis are. He never quite got the hang gof the latter." A laugh comes out of Y/N's mouth, the crowd following suit. There was a smile on her face, a warmth spreading in her chest.

"He's the man I'll be in love with until the day I die, but then I'll fall in love all over again because I'll be able to see him again. Steve was the sweetest, kindest man I've ever met and while I will always wish we had more time together, I was lucky to have him as long as I did. We were all lucky to have him." Y/N pauses again, her throat constricting with emotion, "Even though he's gone, Steve lived a long life-a life longer than some of us get and I am happy that so many different facets of his life is going to be explored and shared with so many people. I hope you all enjoy the exhibit. Thank you."

The applause that followed was almost thunderous. Y/N smiled as her heart slammed against her ribcage, cameras flashing as she made her way off the stage. She was glad it was finally over as she moved to stand next to Rhodey and Sam. Sam kissed her cheek before he climbed up the stairs to the stage. Rhodey rubbed her back, telling her quietly that she did great. She just nodded in response, her eyes on her friend, watching as Sam leaned the shield against the plexiglass podium.

"Thank you Y/N for making my job a lot harder." Sam teases, causing everyone to chuckle. Y/N smiles right back at him, shaking her head as her friend carries on, "Steve represented the best in all of us. Courageous, righteous, hopeful. And he mastered poising stoically. "

Sam's a natural at this, standing up there like its nothing. And while Y/N should be focused on the speech, her eyes keep drifting down to the shield at his feet.

"The world has been forever changed. A few months ago, billions of people reappeared after five years away, sending the world into turmoil. We need new heroes. Ones suited for the times we're in. Symbols...are nothing without the women and men that give them meaning. And this thing," Sam chuckles, picking up the shield, "I don't know if there's ever been a greater symbol. But it's more about the man who propped it up and he's gone. So, today we honor Steve's legacy, but also, we look to the future. So thank you, Captain America. But this belongs to you."

Y/N feels sick to her stomach as she watches Sam hand the shield off. Her chest feels tight and she-she can't be here. There's a ringing on her ears and she can't breathe. Y/N pushes through the crowd, not bothering with pleasantries as she does it. A dozen emotions rack her body, causing her hands to start to heat up. She forces it down, deep down as she walks into an empty bathroom, locking the door behind her.

Sam gave away the shield.

He gave it away.

Like it was nothing.

And she wants to scream, wants to cry, but it won't come out. Y/N won't let it, not now when she is still in public. She walks over to the sinks, her hands gripping the counter. Her eyes are rimmed with red, eyes all watery. Her red painted lips press into a thin line as she forces herself to not cry, practically glaring at her reflection. What did her therapist tell her to do? Ah yes, breath in and out. In and out.

This was all too much way too soon. She couldn't handle this. She was being bombarded with memories and emotions already and now Sam giving the shield away? She felt like she was going to lose it. A part of her felt like she was overreacting. overthinking this whole situation. And maybe she was. Y/N did that from time to time. Tony had told her she was an expert of making mountains out of molehills. Maybe Sam just didn't want to be Captain America, didn't want to shoulder that burden. That was understandable. It was a shitty, shitty job-one that Sam didn't ask for. He shouldn't be forced to take on the mantle of Captain America, not when the previous owner had tossed it away so carelessly.

Yet, the bigger part of her was incredibly upset. Angry at the fact that Sam handed off the shield to be shelved in a museum. Overwhelmed by the amount of Steve that was everywhere. Confused over the multitudes of feeling that were swarming her body.

And there was nothing she could do about any of them. She just had to grin and bear it, just like she's been doing since Steve decided he much rather spend an entire lifetime with a woman he knew for a few months. So Y/N collected herself, blinked away her tears, and left the bathroom. Her feet had a mind of their own, carrying her towards the one place she didn't want to be.

The exhibit.

Steve's image is plastered on every single surface, telling the details of every part of his life. Scrawny Steve, bootcamp Steve, darling icon of patriotism during the war Steve, frozen Steve, Battle of Manhattan Steve, cartoon Steve punching Hitler, Steve during Sokovia, Steve on the run. Steve, Steve, Steve, Steve. He covers every single square inch, which makes sense because this is his exhibit. And while Y/N knows she should just turn on her heel and not put herself through it, she throws caution to the wall. She's already incredibly upset, so she might as well pour gallons and gallons of salt and lemon juice into that open wound. So she forces herself deeper into the exhibit, running straight into the very last man she wants to see at this moment.

"You know I wasn't expecting to find you here." Sam tells her as soon as her foot enters the next room. She keeps her mouth shut, so he adds "Rhodey is looking for you."

"You know on his right sleeve of his suits, right near his wrist, he had my initials stitched. He told me he wanted to carry a piece of me into every mission, into every fight." Y/N announces as she looks at a picture of Steve on a mission, most likely taken by Natasha. Sam sighs, walking over to her, wanting her to see his point of view.

"Look I know you're upset-" He starts, but is immediately cut off by a dry chuckle slipping out of Y/N's mouth as she walks around the room. She wants to lay in to him, wants to give him a piece of her mind.

"Oh I am far past the point of being "just upset", Wilson. It wasn't yours to give away. I-I don't care if you didn't want the mantle, but..." Her angry words trail off once she realizes what part of the exhibit she has reached, her face dropping.

Y/N stops in front of a part of the exhibit labeled 'Two Heroes United'. Her eyes roam over the pictures of her and Steve's wedding and the pictures taken throughout the duration of their relationship, so much more than what the file Rhodey had left detailed. So many smiles, so much happiness filling each and every picture. Her facade is cracking, chipping away as she forces herself to study every picture, studying their faces over and over, trying to see if there was something she had missed, if-if there was something she could have said or done to hold onto him a little longer. If there was something hidden behind his smile, behind his touches, they don't reveal themselves in the photographs.

She's just a footnote in his life, a blurb at the end of a long story. A tool to make him look like an all-American family man. Bucky and Sam had much larger parts of the exhibit dedicated to their roles in Steve's life and who they are outside of being Steve's friends. Y/N-well Y/N gets this, a paragraph saying that she was on the team and then married Steve. She is just haphazardly tacked onto the story of his life, a cute story to make people feel all warm inside. He got his happily ever after, they'll say-or they'll whisper to one another God she was so lucky to have him. They won't ask if she got her happily ever after or if she feels lucky now.

Sam got to hand off the shield, got to throw away the title of Captain America. He gets to keep on living his life after this, but Y/N-Y/N will always be Steve's wife. And it doesn't matter how many people she saved or what she did with her time on earth, she will only be know for being the wife of the man who abandoned her. Y/N's tied to him for eternity, stuck loving a man who decided to love someone else.

And then, just like that, something inside of her just snaps. Her facade fully crumbles, leaving her unable to mask what she's going through. Y/N's eyes fill up with tears and she's unable to blink them away before they spill over the edge, sending tears rolling down her cheeks. And as she stood there, crying in the middle of the exhibit dedicated to Steven Grant Rogers, a depressing epiphany popped into her mind.

The shield was the last part of Steve that she had that wasn't tainted in some way, a piece of him that she could still bear to see. And Sam had just given it away, leaving her with nothing but memories that would haunt her.

"I watched your speech. You did really good, Y/N." Her therapist praises, giving her a soft smile. Y/N nods, twisting her wedding ring on her finger. She had decided to start wearing it again, even though her feelings about Steve were still conflicted. While a part of her thought that this meant she was healing, Y/N knew it was more likely tied to the fact that Sam had given up the shield.

"It-It felt good." Y/N replies, shifting in her seat. She had thought it was a subtle movement, but Dr. Raynor gave her a look. After a few months of court-ordered appointments, the therapist knew Y/N all too well and she sure as hell knew when Y/N wasn't telling the truth.

"Something is upsetting you. What happened?" The doctor questions, clicking her pen. Y/N dreaded the noise. It meant a longer session, more bandaids being ripped off in order to force the wounds into the light. It would mean she would return to her home a little colder, a little emptier.

"Nothing happened. It-I had a good day. A good week." Y/N tries to reassure her, even going as far as to give her what she thought was a honest smile. Dr. Raynor held up her pad of paper, making a show of slowly bring the pen down to the paper. Y/N's smile falls and she looks down at her hands, letting out a small sigh.

"He-Sam gave away the shield. He gave it away like it was nothing." The ex-hero announces, feeling like a scolded child. Raynor lowers her pen and paper, settling back into her seat.

"And you feel like he shouldn't have?"

"No. No, Steve-Steve chose him. Steve gave him the shield because he knew that Sam was good, that Sam could handle it. And-And Sam just gave it away." Y/N stammers, picking at a thread that was hanging off her shirt.

"You know, I think that is the first time you have said his name aloud." Raynor mentions, causing Y/N to stop her movements. The thread is caught between her fingers, pulled taut. The doctor continues, "You always refer to Steve as 'he' or 'him' or 'my husband'. You never say his name."

"I don't think I was ready to be around...Steve. Not that much." Y/N tries to shift the focus, shame filling her, her face feeling hot. She knows she has her reasons not to say his name, but she still felt terrible about not being able to say his name.

"But you still spoke at the opening of his exhibit. I'm sure everyone would more than understand why you couldn't. So why did you decide on speaking?" The therapist asks, taking down a couple notes of her pad of paper. Y/N stays silent for a moment, letting go of the thread to start twisting her ring again.

"I-I don't know. Rhodey asked me and I-I guess I thought I could do it. And the speech wasn't bad I just-I wasn't expecting Sam to give away the shield." Y/N responds, her voice soft. She feels so small, sitting here on this charcoal grey couch. Y/N almost felt...stupid for being so angry at Sam. It wasn't his fault at all and as Y/N said everything out loud, she felt like such an asshole.

"If you would've known that Sam wanted to give the shield away, would you have stopped him?" Dr. Raynor replies, leaning forward slightly as she takes a few notes. Y/N feels herself sinking into the couch.

"I don't know. I-I wish he would have just told me so that we could've talked about it." She answers, looking out of the window. Dark grey clouds filled the sky, blocking out a lot of the sunlight that wanted to shine down on the city. Y/N didn't know if she would have actually forced him to keep the shield. That wasn't on him to have hold on to hat chunk of vibranium. It was wrong for Steve to have thrown that all on Sam. What would be the alternative? For her to keep the shield? Y/N highly doubted that the United States government would allow that.

Y/N was watering her garden when her phone started to ring in her back pocket. She quickly moves to shut off the water hose before she slips the phone about her pocket. Sam's name and picture appears on her screen, making uneasiness fill her stomach. Y/N exhales through her noise loudly before answering it, holding the phone against her ears.

"Have you seen the news?" Sam asks, not even letting her get a single syllable out.

"No, I've been outside-What's going on, Sam?" Y/N questions, making her way to the house. Something was definitely wrong. Sam never called her unless it was for emergencies. if they did communicate, it was mainly through texting. Her heartbeat started to race, as did her thoughts. A million different scenarios filled her head, each one worse than the last.

"You need to turn on the news right now." Sam replies as she opens the back door, quickly crossing the kitchen and walking into the living room. Her hands are almost shaking as she picks up the remote, turning the television on. Luckily for her, the last thing she had been watching was the news. Unluckily for her, she was greeted with a man holding the shield-Steve's shield, dressed in what looked like an off-brand, shitty version of the Captain America suit.

Anger filled her body. It had been four days tops since Sam handled off the shield and already, they had found their 'new Captain America'. The man in question was smiling smugly in the ill-fitting suit, waving at the camera, holding onto his shield tightly. God, Y/N wanted to beat the shit of the man and every single person who had okayed this. She could only hear bits and pieces of the speech as the news replayed it, but even that bullshit was too much for her to handle. She muted the television, tossing the remote on the couch.

"Are you fucking kidding me? Are you fucking kidding me?" Y/N exclaims, her hands getting warm. The Avenger was unable to get to anything articulate as rage filled her. She quickly put the phone on speaker, setting the device down just in case her hands caught flame.

"I know. I know. It's fucking bullshit." Sam replies, sighing. Y/N paced in front of the television, trying to calm herself down before she burned a hole through her rug. On the screen, the fake Cap was talking about something, a saccharine smile spread across his face. Y/N wanted to take that God damn shield and smash his teeth in.

"That asshole has my husband's fucking shield. They-He isn't supposed to be Captain America, okay? It's just not-It's not theirs to give away." Y/N's voice cracks towards the end, tears filling her eyes. While she wasn't Steve's number one fan, she hated that they had already chose someone to take up his title. If Sam wasn't going to be Captain America, then no one should be Captain America.

"I'm sorry, Y/N. I wouldn't have given away the shield if I would've known...I'm sorry." Sam murmurs over the phone. Y/N covers her face with her almost glowing hands as she tries to control her breathing, not able to respond to Sam’s apologies. Her sadness and anger quickly shifted into something else.

Something inside of her switched on, something that she hadn't felt in a long time, not since she was a hero, back when she was an Avenger.

Y/N wanted to go to work.

------

Not A Team taglist (if you would like to be added to the taglist please let me know!)

@lady-elena-adeline @simonedk @hersilencedscreams @rqmanoff

#steve rogers x reader #captain america x reader #steve rogers #chris evans x reader #bucky barnes x reader #sam wilson #sam wilson x reader #tfatws #tfatws spoilers

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prettyblueskylark · 3 years ago

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Remember me

Welcome to the first chapter of this experiment, you are my beta reader, Reader. I know where the story will go, but i'm not sure how many chapter wil be (8?910?).

Hope you like it, comment or dm me anytime.

Chapter 1

-Hey, babe. - Y / N's cheerful voice greeted Steve from the other end of the phone. - We're on our way home. We should be in New York in a couple of hours.

Steve smiled at his girlfriend's voice. He noticed that to answer he had placed his cup of coffee on some documents, leaving an almost perfect circle on the report of the last mission of Falcon and Black Widow. He gave a curse through gritted teeth. -Hey, doll. It's nice to know you're coming back. Did you and Bucky find anything?

Y / N sighed - Nothing particularly interesting. Madame Hydra is still out of our league, but we still found some interesting documents for Stark to read. The only interesting thing, after all. The base was abandoned, recently, but still abandoned. Still, from the information they had gleaned from the Watch Dogs, that base should have been a focal point. It seems they are building a weapon; I can't tell if it's a bomb or a rifle ...

-Or a rifle that throws bombs- Bucky added, approaching the phone to talk to his friend and yelling in Y / N's ear.

All three laughed at the idea of a bomb-throwing rifle.

-Can I confirm the table for tonight, then? - Steve asked.

-You can confirm the table and the ice cream for after dinner and the romantic walk and I'm ovulating; therefore, you can also book sex to make a baby- Y / N bit her lip, while his tone became more and more languid and seductive.

-And I don't want to know when you're going to conceive my nephew, I just want to know when I'm going to be an uncle. Perverts. - Bucky's voice was again loud enough for Steve to hear as well.

- See you soon, Captain. I love you.

-I love you too.

With a quick click, they ended the conversation.

-So, kids, huh? - Bucky looked at his friend.

-So, kids. Do you have any proposals for names? I already know what the middle name will be, if it's a boy- Y / N ruffled his hair -I swear I'll take every proposal into consideration.

Bucky quickly fixed his hair - I can't believe that punk is going to be a father. If he's male, call him Daniel. I met a Daniel during the war. A good boy. He was in love with a nurse, Liz. He was a milky Brit; she was a beautiful Southern. She was wasted on him, but she made her laugh. Danny had such a strong accent that I understood half of what he was saying, but he was a good guy. Call him Daniel the little monster.

Y / N smiled at the story. Bucky and Steve rarely talked about the war. Of the misadventures they had been through, this was the one that had affected him the most, so she believed.

- If he is female?

- Juliet.- he said confidently.

-Your first love? - Y N was curious to know the story behind the name.

-I have never met a Juliette. My first love was Susie Sherman. Dark hair, heart-shaped lips, and two small breasts with pink nipples. She gave me a...- Bucky looked at Y/N -Never mind.

Y/N patted him on the shoulder -Poor Susie, maybe she really cared about you!

Y/N would continue to berate Bucky for his talk about Susie, but the quinjet was rocked by a missile. Two aircraft appeared on the radar.

-What the hell !? - Bucky tried to regain control of the quinjet. A second missile hit them in the wing, severing it cleanly. They were in free fall.

-It won't be an easy landing. Maybe you'll have to postpone dinner, baby.

Y/N sent the emergency signal to the Avengers Tower, to signal their position and to be recovered as quickly as possible.

A third missile hit them, this time opening the hatch.

"Shit!" Flashes came out of Y / N's hands, whatever came in from there, she would have killed it with her electric power.

She had not finished formulating the thought that Madame Hydra appeared before them in all the green and evil splendor of her.

-Hi sweetheart.- Madame Hydra smiled.

Y/N did not respond to her greeting and her electric shocks went out of her hands to hit her.

- Not so fast, honey.

The last thing Y/N saw was the gun held by Madame Hydra, then the emptiness and silence.

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #steve rogers x oc #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers fic #steve rogers angst #chris evans #chris evans x reader #cevans #captain america #steve rogers fluff #steve x reader #bucky barnes #madame hydra #steven grant rogers

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magnificent-nerd · 3 years ago

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Why Naqib in The Boys sucked

Image description: fictional character Naqib in Amazon Prime’s show The Boys.

(Is the fire in the background an excuse to use racist Yellow Filter to show how exotic he is? Hmm.)

I first posted this on my blog in Dec 2020, and since nothing in superhero media has changed for the better at this time (September 5th, 2021), I’m going to keep talking about it.

Because nobody else does. So, without further ado:

WHY NAQIB SUCKS.

I was a big fan of The Boys season 1; I love superheroes, I love deconstructing a genre. Sure, it has its problems, but overall I enjoyed season 1 and thought the show had potential.

(That’ll learn me for being hopeful!)

When season 1 ended with this big build up of mostly nameless brown and background characters as Muslim terrorists (deep sigh) we the audience are left thinking this one Muslim character (Naqib) whose superpower is to blow himself up repeatedly (insert another long deep sigh here) is going to be The Big Bad of season 2.

I had my misgivings about that direction. Firstly, as you can see from the image of Naqib, he is highly exoticised and is walking around bare chested with Arabic writing on his chest. He looks more like a generic western media depiction of a genie than he does a supervillain.

And yet he's the first prominent Muslim character in superhero media I've seen in YEARS.

(See my post about MENA and Muslim character good guys, including Joe played by Marwan Kenzari in The Old Guard, which is technically a comic book movie but it’s not what I’d call ‘caped and costumed’ superheroes so it’s more... superhero adjacent.)

I follow superhero content closely and as far as I'm aware the last time we saw any named Muslim characters in superhero movies WITH SPEAKING LINES was:

Instance 1) Iron Man 1 back in 2008 with The Ten Rings in Afghanistan, showing multiple Muslim characters as baddies/terrorists, but only two of them as a named character and with any meaningful lines to say. And despite one of them, Yinsen (actor Shaun Toub), being a good guy he still dies! Which is common in western media for Muslim and MENA characters.

Note: Fellow Iron Man 1 castmate, actor Sayed Badreya, makes an important point in this GQ article: "I die in Iron Man, I die in Executive Decision. I get shot by everyone. George Clooney kills me in Three Kings. Arnold blows me up in True Lies…" (x)

Instance 2) A more recent instalment in Batman V. Superman in 2016, with some unnamed 'General' character and mercenaries/terrorists in Nairomi, Africa, referred to only as "the desert" throughout the movie. All reference to the General's actual name are available in an extended/deleted scene only, so a very poor and vague depiction in the final cut.

Instance 3) The generic and badly written ‘bad guys’ in Wonder Woman 1984 (2020 movie), which was honestly such a racist depiction of Arabs and Muslims that many critics pointed out we hadn’t seen a depiction this terrible since 1994′s True Lies. (At least most critics were in agreement that WW84 movie was generally terrible, so there’s that.)

And that's it, those are the only major instances showing any Muslim actors or characters in a caped and costumed superhero movie.

Some other fleeting glimpses of Muslims onscreen:

Glimpse 1) I spotted a girl wearing a hijab among the nameless and unspeaking background characters of Peter Parker's class in Spider-Man: Far From Home (2019). A first for Marvel movies, apparently.

Glimpse 2) Disney Plus show Falcon and Winter Soldier (2021) had two nameless Muslim characters walk by in a scene that’s supposed to be Tunisia (using Yellow Filter), and ‘thank’ the present American Air Force (eye-roll).

Glimpse 3) Netflix show Jupiter’s Legacy (2021) had a nameless Muslim sailor conversing with one of the main characters in a scene, with meaningful dialogue about racism. (WOW. Really good.) Bonus: no yellow filter. It’s a pity he’s a nameless background character because this brief instance is the least problematic MENA rep I’ve seen in ages, but it is very brief.

I just wrote about Glimpses 2 and 3, and how the Netflix show outdid Disney when it comes to these nameless walk-on Muslim characters.

This is pretty pathetic overall, these small crumbs, especially compared to better rep and probably the only instance of legit MENA superheroes in a ‘costumes and capes’ style superhero show, the Tarazi siblings on DC’s Legends of Tomorrow.

Anyway, now I’ve listed what crumbs are available across the live action superhero genre, back to The Boys.

I was intrigued about how season 2 would handle Naqib and any characters relating to him, and what storyline they'd use.

Was I excited at the possibility of seeing Muslim supers onscreen? Damn straight I was. Did I mind that they were baddies? Well, yes and no. When you only ever get crumbs or no crumbs at all, you tend to get excited over one stale old crumb.

After the build up for season 2, I eagerly sat down to watch the first episode, only to have the first five minutes of episode 1 Trigon him.

Note: who's Trigon, you ask? Well if you didn't watch the DCEU's Titans show, Trigon was The Big Bad who was hyped up throughout season 1, introduced in the season 1 cliff-hanger episode as this big 'oh shit!' moment for the cast of heroes, only for him to fizzle out like a wet fart in the first episode of season 2 while the show pivots wildly in another direction.

Exactly what happened to Naqib in the first five minutes of The Boys season 2.

Erm, so, Naqib. Farewell, I guess? As a character you briefly appeared in 2 episodes, portrayed by a different actor in each (Krishan Dutt, and Samer Salem). It seems the writers used you as a plot device when they needed a cheap cliff-hanger for a direction that ultimately went nowhere.

Am I disappointed? Yeah, I am. Overall I thought season 2 of The Boys was weaker than season 1, but I'm not here to talk about the whole season: I want to talk about Naqib and this missed opportunity.

The Boys and its showrunners sell the show as being a satire of recent and well known superhero content, of all the big movies and TV shows. There's been a lot of patting themselves on the back for calling out overused tropes in superhero media (and sometimes they've done this satire well: see the LGBT marketing scene with Queen Maeve in season 2), but my issue with the show on their Muslim rep, or should I say lack thereof, is if your show has even less Muslim character rep than the content you're trying to parody, how is this a win for satire?

Naqib and that whole angle came across as a lazy, half-assed swing from the writer's room. Sure, perhaps a lot of the non-Muslim and non-MENA audience won't even notice, as we've been ignored by western media or made into nameless, generic, vacuous baddies for decades now. Non-Muslims and non-MENA just accept that we're always the baddies for no particular reason at all (which feeds into Islamophobia, by the way) and The Boys' writers could say they are simply satirising the tropes already present in media...

But, and this is a big but, the media that The Boys is satirising has already made a step toward better inclusion and representation: Ms. Marvel (Kamala Khan), Marvel comics' first Muslim superhero, is entering the MCU as a lead character in her own Disney Plus show, debuting in 2022.

Ms. Marvel/Kamala Khan is also cited to appear in upcoming Captain Marvel sequel, The Marvels (2022), which will be a major movie.

The MCU has also cast a Muslim actor (Mahershala Ali) as the lead in a reboot of Blade. That's going to be big news when it starts filming.

So to the showrunners on The Boys, I say this: now you've done this small angle of 'all Muslim characters are terrorists, yuckity-yuck!' like we've seen in major superhero movies thus far, and you've brushed that aside in favor of focusing on other whiter villains, my question is will you come back to Muslim and MENA characters again? Or is that all you got?

Because if that was ALL, then the current score is Disney/MCU:02, Netflix:02, DCEU:02, and The Boys: a big ZERO as far as Muslim and MENA rep goes.

Originally posted on my blog, magnificently nerdy.

If you, like me, are always on the lookout for onscreen Muslim and MENA characters in superhero media, and have spotted any characters in superhero TV shows I haven’t watched yet, let me know about them!

Here is my post on good guys, featuring Old Guard’s Joe, and Blindspot’s Rich Dotcom.

Here’s my post about the Tarazi siblings on DC’s Legends of Tomorrow TV show.

And, if Marvels’ Eternals gets released on schedule for 2021, we will have a MENA actor portraying a supporting character. I just hope Marvel gives him a name.

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kaiparker-avengerssmut · 4 years ago

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Our Doll 8//fighting in the sky

B.Barnes x S.Rogers, B.Barnes x Stark!Reader, S.Rogers x Stark!Reader

Series Synopsis | After the events of the horrific past, y/n Stark, Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes have finally admitted their feelings for each other. But is life as an avenger whilst dating two super soldiers any easier than anything y/n’s experienced in the past?

sequel Series to Their Doll

Series Warnings | smut, violence, torture, swearing, threesomes, drug usage/substance abuse

Chapter Summary | the Sokovia fight ends a little...differently.

Warnings | violence, blood, bullet wounds, death, swearing

A/n | This is a sequel book/series to my fic Their Doll! This book loosely follows the mcu timeline, starting in CAWS in book one and starting just before AOU in this book. Bucky had been recovered and is safe, and Peter was taken under Tony's wing when he was much younger.

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Bucky was still on the floor, y/n crouched at his side with a hand cupping his cheek and a concerned look dancing across her eyes. She'd got him propped against a table leg nearby as he'd groaned and winced with pain, flesh hand covering the wound in his shoulder as his breathing got heavier.

Whilst y/n made a fuss, the argument continued and got heated. But she refused to leave him, so much so that when Steve tried to check on them she told him to deal with Tony and that she had Bucky. Or even when Thor arrived, ready to set her dad's plan in motion, of which he did. So now, there was a floating, living computer less than two meters away as Bruce tended to the wound.

They were going to find Ultron tomorrow. Save the world, etc etc. But for now, y/n was much to concerned for her boyfriend who she knew would've healed completely by the end of the hour. Steve knelt down beside her, taking a hold of y/n's free hand and placing a gentle kiss to it before offering her a smile.

"How're you doin', buck?" Steve said softly, looking into the super soldier's cerulean eyes. The brunet offered him a small smile, lips tugging up.

"I'm doin' okay, Stevie." He hummed, before his lips were smothered in a sweet kiss. Y/n still felt a tingle of warmth run down her spine every time she saw them kiss. It was passionate, despite lacking lust in the current situation, and still made a weak pang of arousal crawl down y/n's spine.

"I love you two, so much." Bruce had retreated by this point, so only y/n, Bucky, and Steve were left sat on the floor. Both men before her smiled widely, and Steve leant to give y/n a kiss to the forehead.

"We love you too." Bucky said, and y/n nodded with a tear in her eye. "We'll survive this; we always do."

...

When the cobbles began splintering, and the ground began shaking, and the buildings began crumbling, all I could do was gasp. Sharp and quiet, the sound barely reaching the ears of those around me as I froze in place from where I'd been ushering a group of children towards the bridge.

We'll survive this; we always do.

Then followed the screams. Shock, fear, pain. The beeping of cars, shattering of glass, clanging of metal, thudding off rubble. Even as those around me fussed - backed away from the edge - I stayed frozen. Eyes locked on the earth we were leaving behind, ears perked at the sound of snapping metal and breaking rock. We were going up, and there was nothing we could do about it.

"Sokovia's going for a ride." FRIDAY's voice echoed through the comm, but the words barely fell on my ears as I remained locked, paralysed.

"Y/n!" Sam's voice ripped me from my trance, his slender arms wrapping over my shoulder as he knocked me down just in time. We rolled onto the floor, his wings breaking our fall against the stone and cocooning us. The sound of an explosion pulled my head up, Clint stood facing us with his bow out - no arrow loaded.

My eyes drifted then, settling on the shards of metal around us and I figured out what happened.

"T-thanks." I mumbled, grabbing Clint's hand as he offered it.

"No problem. Now get you're head in the game, y/n. We're really gonna need all the help we can get." Sam replied, expanding his wings again before he was in the sky above us.

"You okay?" Clint asked, brown quirked. I brushed my arms off, nodding slowly to the man. "Okay."

I sighed out in relief, kicking at the metal before me before shaking my head and putting on a brave face. I took off, running towards a scream I'd heard.

"Stark you worry about bringing the city back down safely," Steve's voice rang in my ear, "the rest of us have one job: tear these things apart. You get hurt, hurt 'em back. You get killed, walk it off." I let off a laugh, pulling a knife from it's sheath at my thing and raising my arm, pressing the blade into the robot's head and smiling at the cracklings sound of it shutting down.

"Nice speech, Stevie." I chortled through a smirk and Bucky chuckled. The woman before me strangled away and I watched after her before taking off again.

"Is he always so bossy on missions?" Bucky pondered and Sam's laugh could be heard through my earpiece.

"Yes he is." The Falcon sighed, and I could tell Steve was rolling his eyes with that ridiculous, toothy smirk.

"Remind me to punish you when I get home. Both of you." Steve sneered playfully and Tony gagged. Nat laughed.

"Ew. Please don't talk about your sex lives through the comms." Clint jeered disgustedly.

"Whatever you say, Captain." I smirked and Bucky chuckled again.

It was awhile before anyone spoke again, all wrapped up in crushing the robots. By now I'd found Bucky, and we fought back-to-back as Sam and Rhodey cleared the skies. Bucky held a gun in hand, shooting mercilessly at the gadgets as I threw knife after knife, never even missing once.

"Hey, Doll?" Bucky shouted over the noise as I sent another knife flying into a head.

"Yeah?" I called back, letting out a grunt as I rolled out the way of a bullet.

"D'ya think your powers work on these things?" Bucky asked again, turning around and shooting the one that still had its sights on me.

"Thanks. And I don't know, I haven't tried."

"Well maybe now is about time!" I heard steve voice through the comm again. That when I started to hum, that unfamiliar, dangerous tune. Bucky froze in space, gun lowered at we marvelled at the convulsing robots around us. Their heads crackled as spurts of electricity danced around them, before they all simtaneously exploded, pieces of flaming metal sent spinning through the air.

Bucky pulled me into him, crouching down and shielding us with his metal arm as a few stray pieces were sent towards us.

"Well, I'd say it works." Bucky mumbled through a laugh and I joined him, both of us straightening up and running in the direction of where steve was.

"So it works?" Pietro called down the comm, and I shared a look with Bucky.

"It fuckin's works." Bucky smirked before I interjected.

"Kind of. If people are in the vicinity they may get hurt. I'd only be able to use it on a good enough scale if we evacuate this thing." I said and Tony scoffed.

"What do you think we've been doing?" There was a silence again after that.

...

"Hey Steve!" Bucky yelled, waving the to blonde super soldier as he turned around from where he was stood beside Nat.

"Glad you like the view Romanoff. It's about to get better." I came to a halt at the sound of Fury's voice in my ear. Bucky stopped beside me, both of us only a few feet behind Nat and Steve as the whirring of Bucky's arm filled the silence.

Then we saw it. The ship rose gracefully through the clouds, big and glorious and full of the promise of victory.

"Fury you son of a bitch." Steve clipped and I heard Bucky's low chuckle from beside me.

"Oooh, you kiss your mother with that mouth?" I found myself laughing to at Fury's comment.

"This is SHIELD?" Pietro asked, entranced as he walked up beside us.

"This is what SHIELD is supposed to be." Steve affirmed and Pietro's smile just grew wider.

"This is not so bad." The lifeboats began landing, pulling up to the edge of the rock before Steve was barking orders down the Comm again.

"Let's load 'em up." So that's what we did.

...

It was so close. We were so close. Barley any civilians remained, the last of them just getting onto the last of the lifeboats at the moment. The plan to take out Ultron was in play.

Me, Pietro and Clint were the only avengers in the area, about to get on life boats ourselves when a woman began begging and crying.

"Her son isn't here. We need to find him." Clint mumbled quickly as he walked passed me, hand wrapping a round my bicep and pulling me with him.

"Well where could he be? We've looked everywhere!" I explained in a whisper, eyes wide with fear. I didn't like the idea of anyone dying by our hands, besides those horrid, evil robots.

"I don't know, just-" Clint cut himself off, his jittery eyes landing on the boy as he struggled and shouted for help. "Wait here."

And with that Clint was sprinting off, leaving me stood only a few feet from the edge as Pietro made sure everyone else was safely on the lifeboat.

"Shit." I murmured, reaching for a dagger, but my fumbling hand couldn't find one as I say the robot stagger towards Clint and the boy. "Clint!" I shouted, finally finding a knife sheathed in my back pocket and letting it slide from my hand, the rigid metal burying itself in the thing's skull. It shut down immediately, dropping to the floor. Clint raised an arm in thanks, quickly turning back to the boy to lift him up.

I found myself laying behind a nearby piece of rumble before I could make sense of it, winded and groaning as I peered over at the sound of the gunfire.

Where had it come from? The last of them should be dead now. My thought were racing, horrified. But it didn't compare to my disjointed scream. The blood staining Pietro's back was seeping, leaking onto his shirt as he swayed, his faint voice making the sob catch in my throat.

"You didn't see that coming?" My eyes drifted to the sky, the ship nearly out of my reach and the bottled, bubbling anger surfaced again. Only this time, I didn't let it simmer back down again.

We'll survive this; we always do.

The sound that tore from me could barely be described as a hum, let alone a song as the pained sound channelled through me.

You didn't see that coming?

A burst of light, a spark that set fire into a rapid succession of aguish; agony. A wave that knocked everyone to their feet, pushing Steve back as he ran towards Clint, who was hunted over Pietro's limp body.

Don't turn your back on me!

Lifeless, the bodies that sunk into the seats behind me enticed gasps from Clint as he slowly stood, eyes locked on the sight over my shoulder.

I love you two, so much.

I turned with a horrified, disgruntled noise. One of shock, pain, fear, guilt, dread all mixed into one horrid, ugly noise.

Ultron has won.

And maybe he has, because the sight before me was not one of victory. He had succeeded in some form, no doubt. The wing of grey soaring past me causing me eyes to narrow, and my heart to shatter.

This is what SHIELD is supposed to be.

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i-write-sometimes-blog · 5 years ago

Text

Cold Eyes (Dark Rey x Reader) [Part 17]

Summary: It's time to end this war.

Words: 5K+ (this is long)

A/N: The final chapter it's finally here! It's long so brace yourself, I'll continue this author note at the end. Hope you enjoy it!!

Mustafar seemed more intimidating when viewed from afar, threatening. The bright lava of the always burning oceans and rivers seemed to shine even brighter compared with the dark emptiness of space and hotter than the closest sun. It was deadly place.

Outside the toxic athmopshire of Mustafar a fleet of at least five cruisers guarded the planet, forming on a line, ready to destroy anything that would try to pass through them.

It was a tired work for some of the soldiers in the First Order ship just to wait around with nothing else to do than look at the vast space before them. Yet following Supreme Leader’s orders they waited, and waited.

And waited.

Until a mysterious ship jumped out of hyperspace. Soon the soldiers, pilots and commanders inside the cruisers recognized the legendary corellian ship that appeared in front of them, accompanied by a few rebel's ships that started blasting as soon and sudden as they appeared.

"Blast them!" Commander Benndra yelled hearing a ‘Yes sir’ in response followed by the known sound of the big blasters of the ship. Walking fastly towards the console, Commander Benndra pushed a button activating an holo-communicator. Immediately a tiny blue figure formed and showed a woman whose face was hidden almost completely by the black robe. "Supreme Leader"

"What is it, Commander?" Rey hissed.

"You were right, they’re here." Benndra reported. "The ship known as The Millennium Falcon is leading a small fleet of Resistance ships."

The hologram of Rey seemed to smile thought it was rather a grin, a mischievously evil grin.

“They’re so predictable” Rey said. "I want every single one of those ships gone," she commanded "Except the Falcon, the controller must be there, so bring me that ship."

"Yes, Supreme Leader" Benndra said and as soon as the blue hologram disappeared she turned to look at the captain of the ship.

“Commander, they’re out of range for the cannons” the captain informed her. Through the big window she saw the rebel's ships retreating. “What do we do?”

"I want a full squad of TIE-fighters out there now!” she yelled with her eyes looking directly at the Falcon.”We can't let them escape."

The ships left the big cruisers at high-speed following the X-Wings that only leaded them more and more away. And while they were chasing them and blasting towards them nobody noticed the small ships that appeared away from the big ships that were already diving into the lava planet in complete silence.

The atmosphere was tensed and that tension only grew bigger as the suffocating heat of Mustafar surrounding you all inside the U-wing full of people. Everyone was nervous, this was a big deal and would meant the end of the galaxy if the plan go south.

"Alright, here we go.” you heard Poe’s voice over the commlink once you were close to the landing place, he sounded concentrated and serious as he leaded the ships to the safe area you talked to him about. “Blue 7, prepare to land behind those burned trees. We'll cover you."

"Copy, Blue Leader." the young pilot of the ship said, for the corner of your eyes you looked at the cockpit a few feets away, you saw him pulling some levers, everything was ready to land, it was only matter of time until you would had to jump out of this ship.

As the U-wing started it's way down to land you shifted over your seat. There was a hurricane of thoughts inside your head, it was weird to be back on this planet that held so many memories. Memories as cold as the dungeons under the Fortress where you spent many rotations crying in pain. And yet, there were warm memories of a soft burning love that bloomed somehow in this dark place. But there was also the memory of an even warmer fury as dangerous as the boiling lava of Mustafar.

You were afraid this plan wouldn't work out, there were many things that could go wrong. However, your mind was more afraid to meet those yellow eyes again. Rey would be there, you knew face her was a possibility but you hoped not to see her, it would make things way harder than they already were.

And though you felt hurt by her actions you still hoped she'd find the light again, there was still good inside her but there was too much darkness as well, maybe it was too late to get her back after all.

Finn watched the way your body tensed more and more as you got closer to the place.

"Everything's gonna be fine, Y/N." he told you. "This plan will work, I'm sure" Finn assured you and you wished your friend was right.

"Okay, it's time." Poe spoke again and the pilots and the small team of soldiers listener carefully to your leader's words."This for sure it's gonna be hard, we don't even know if would work but this is our only chance," he paused for a moment "and we're definitely not gonna waste it." He chuckled and you couldn't help but smile.

Blaster in hand and the controller in the small bag, you adjusted your lightsaber secure in your hip one last time, Finn insisted you to carry it just in case.

Sighing you got ready to get out of the ship and as soon as the ship was close to the dark surface the sliding door opened and the small team, formed of a handful rebels, jumped out of the U-wing and rushed to hide into the burned trees that were barely a cover but better than nothing. Only exchanging silently gazes and quiet gestures you moved closer to the Fortress.

Meanwhile, outside the planet the TIE-fighters kept chasing the small group of rebels. Commander Benndra smile grew bigger with every new fallen Resistance ship, there were a couple of them left and the Falcon it’d be just matter of time for her squad to blow it out, hopefully this target would win her a higher rank in the First Order. She was already savoring her victory when the rest of the Resistance fleet jumped out of hyperspace.

And so the battle of Mustafar begun.

"We're in." Finn informed Poe through the comlink once the whole team was safely inside the glossy halls of the First Order headquarters. "Moving to the main pane, now." After waiting for Poe to confirm he looked at you. "Y/N, lead the way."

Your eyes traveled from Finn to the rest of the team, even though they looked nervous they were ready to fight, ready to do whatever it'd take to bring this place to ashes. And as all the members of the Resistance, they had hope in their eyes.

"The controls are in one of the upper levels," you told them "they increased the security so it must be full of troopers. We have to be careful." The team nodded in response and after one last look at them you started your way through the labyrinth of halls you knew like the back of your hand.

The dark side was way stronger than before, you felt it and so did Finn. Something in the air around you just felt out of place, out of balance. The dark had risen consuming even the smallest sign of light in this big fortress.

Everything was going according to plan for both the fleet fighting against the First Order ships and your team getting closer to the target. Everything was going a little too good creating doubts in your mind, voices that seemed to whisper strange things to you.

When you turned around the corner, the small team found a whole battalion of stormtroopers that started to blast as soon as they noticed the team.

"Y/N, go!" Finn commanded you between shots. "We'll cover you!"

"We'll hold them down, get to the main panel now!" A fierce woman told you.

You rushed down the hall.

"Y/N" Finn yelled making you look back "May the force be with you" and with a last smile you left them behind.

Your footsteps echoed down the dark, empty hallway as you ran, them more you got closer to the control room you felt just how much the dark side of the Force had conquered this place, it felts colder than ever, the voices you once heard sounded louder confusing your thoughts. ‘Concentrate!’ you reminded to yourself, one more hall and you’d be in the control room.

The hallway leaded to a big empty room adorned with big columns and a window that showed the dangerous lava burning outside the building. You stopped by the sound of a familiar voice, immediately searching for a place to hide.

“The rebels found a way in.” General Hux informed as he walked with his hands behind his hands as always. “A small group is fighting in level four, among them is the deserter trooper FN-2187.”

“I see we underestimated the Resistance” Rey’s voice came to your ears unexpected, forming goosebumps all over your skin. “Tell Commander Benndra to forget about the Falcon, she has permission to destroy the whole fleet. The controller is here, they’re trying to get it to the main panel.”

“What about the rebels in level four?” Hux asked.

“I’ll take care of it myself.” she said. From your hiding spot you saw Hux walking out of the big room leaving Rey alone for a quick moment concentrating on the rumour dancing in the air and the feeling of someone watching her.

"It can't be." she murmured turning to look over her shoulders making you flinch. She felt your presence in the Force, she knew you were there maybe since the moment you put a foot in the planet but couldn't believe it until now, so clear, so close.

There was no way you could hide anymore, and though facing her was the very last thing you needed right now, you didn't had much of an option. There was only one way to the control room and it was through her. Sighing you stepped outside your poor hiding spot behind one of the big columns.

Your name fell from her lips almost like gasp when she saw you, unable to believe her eyes, refusing to meet yours.

"You’re alive.” she mumbled with confusion over her face, she was speechless, just like you standing in the other side of the room.

"Kill her now!" The voices screamed at Rey who couldn't do anything else than look at you. "She's a liar, she will only hurt you again. She's here to destroy everything you've worked for, she brought the enemy with her, she is the enemy." They whispered convincing her confused mind. "Kill her!"

Anger over took her features as her eyes seemed to become even darker, shading the yellow with red. Rey started to walk dangerously slow towards you.

“You were lucky your little friends were here to help you last time,” Rey growled as her hands reached the double sided lightsaber on her hips “but it's just us now.” she turned on her weapon that lighted her face with a bright red light.

Fear spreaded all over your body for a moment watching the saber that once hurt you and thought on escape before she could do it again. However that was a thing you couldn't do, no if you were planning on help the galaxy. This was beyond yourself, you had to do whatever it'd take to save them, even if that meant fighting the woman you loved.

"I don't want to do this, Rey." You spoke for the very first time since the incident in the bridge, searching for your own lightsaber. "But I have to, I can’t let you win and take the whole galaxy down with you.” you held the saber in your hands but didn't power it up. "Please, listen. You can stop this war now and prevent more people from dying. I know you don't want this, I know you, Rey." You told her.

She was the first to attack, forcing you to ignite your weapon to protect yourself from her own.

"You know nothing about me." She grumbled attacking again. "I'm going to finish what I started, I'm going to end with you once and for all." She said already rising her saber again.

Moving around you managed to dodge some of her mortal attacks you discovered how much she had changed from your last battle against her, Rey was stronger, faster, merciless. Guided by the darkest side of the force, too driven by her emotions.

Panting you tried your very best to hold her accelerated rhythm, swinging your lightsaber desperately from side to side in a pitiful intend to survive while she thrusted over and over again and with a swift move she suddenly had her arms around you and her weapon holding your arms from moving and holding your back close to her chest.

"That's seriously all you got?" She whispered close to your ear, a grin over her features. "No doubt why I defeated you last time, always playing by the rules."

She always told you to let your emotions give you, use them in your favor, so you gave in to the growing anger in you, you threw your head back managing to hit her face and free yourself from her grip.

Rey backed off in pain for a moment, she took a hand to her face founding a small cut on her lips that left a trace of her own blood on her fingers.

“Not bad, I trained you well after all.” she said admiring the red liquid on her fingers before looking at you mischievous. “But you’re gonna regret that.”

Rey spinned the double sided weapon hitting against your saber aggressively. With all your strength you held her attack feeling the strong pull between the lightsabers close to each other. Rey's lips curved into a wicked smile, enjoying watching you struggling to hold the saber you meet her eyes then, painted with the colors of the wrath and yet there were not sentiments at all in her eyes, not emotions but a terrified coldness, even lifeless they were just empty shells, that was what she had become.

“I gave you too many chances to join me but you betrayed me, and betrayed me again… and again.” she hissed “It’s enough!”

“You’re right” you growled “It’s enough, Rey” putting your whole strength in one powerful thrust you managed to make her step back, taking the chance you rushed to the other side of the room but not fast enough. The bare tip of one side of her lightsaber reached your back making you cry in pain as the burning weapon traced figures over your back, dreadfully cauterizing your skin. It was just a scratch, yet it was the most painful one you had ever got. It took you a moment to recover from it, whimpering in the cold floor of the fortress.

Her lightsaber also cut the bag that contained the reprogramated controller that fell to the dark floor with a thud.

From the corner of your eyes you caught Rey coming closer, taking her time to contemplate your agony, her features filling with anger and you could swear you heard voices telling her to end you.

“Oh, Y/N” she started slowly circling around you“You really did hurt me, you hurt me more than anyone have had before” her face was consumed by the anger, she looked like the death herself in her black robes. “You lied to me.” she grumbled “You betrayed me!”

“I did. And I’m sorry.” you told her getting back on your feet “I did some mistakes, I know but I had to. I had to save them from you.” you said, attracting your lightsaber back to your hand with the Force, ready to fight again if it was necessary. “I have to save them.”

Rey’s features seemed to relax for an instant as her expression changed from anger to something close to sadness, hurt crossed her face when she met your eyes.

“You said you love me” she murmured barely audible. Her words took you by surprise for a moment. How could she doubt a thing like that, when you had loved her more than any other person. When you never stopping searching for her and when you stayed with her even when she had became a monster.

“I do” you told her, her eyes widen, it was not the answer she was expecting “I love you, Rey. Since the first day you came into my life, I love you” you added meaning every single word “And I’m tired of this, I’m tired of fighting and I’m sick of this war.”

Your gaze met hers for a moment wishing to see her smile at least one more time as your mind remembered the day you met her, the way she had hope in her eyes. She was still there somewhere inside this yellow eyed woman.

“I don’t want to hurt you, not anymore.” you announced her turning your lightsaber off and throwing it aside “I’m not going to fight you, Rey. So if you’re gonna kill me do it now. I prefer dying than see the First Order ruling over the galaxy. Than seeing you like this, this is not you, Rey.”

“Stop it!” she growled pointing her weapon in your direction, but her words were meant for the voices in her head more than for you.

“She’s lying. You have to destroy her now. Kill her!”

Confusion invaded her head. The voices of the Sith kept telling her to destroy you, to end with you as they reminded her just how much you had hurt her… but the other side of her, the small beacon of light deep inside her told her not to, it told her to trust you assuring her you loved her just as much as she loved you. There was a chaos inside her that was turning her apart.

“Kill her!”

So she obeyed swinging her saber one more time and you closed your eyes already accepting this was the end.

But nothing happened.

Opening your eyes you found the blade of light inches away from your face and a conflicted Rey, with tears on her eyes, observing you.

Rey scanned every small detail of your face, from your messy battle hair to your lips remembering the sweetness of them and back to your eyes, where she stopped hypnotized by the way they shined when you looked at her and suddenly she realized she almost extinguished the light in them, she almost killed you… again. She remembered the terrible emptiness she felt without you by her side. She didn’t want a life without you in it, she didn’t want to hurt you, she wanted to protect you, but she feared the grip of the darkness on her was too strong.

“It’s too late.” Rey mumbled with sorrow in her voice.“Soon the Resistance will be gone, your friends are in danger.”

“It’s never too late, Rey,” you said “Never.” she powered off her lightsaber letting you finally step closer to her. Doubting you placed your hand on the side of her face while she cried in silence.

“I’m sorry” Rey sobbed “I should have stop this mess before, I should have never trust in the dark side but it seemed so easy” she regretted “If I hadn’t left the Resistance none of this would have happened.”

She didn’t protest when you pulled her into a hug, she only held you tighter in her arms burying her face in the curve of your neck.

"I'm sorry, there was no other option.”

"There's always other option." You murmured. "It's up to you to have the courage to chose it."

She tilted her head up a little to gaze into your eyes.

"Then I want to end this war now." she said. "I lost you once, I'm not going to let anything happen to you. I will keep my promise this time.

A soft smile formed over your lips but immediately faded away by the sound of your comlink.

"Y/N" you heard Finn's voice coming from the small devise in the bag laying on the floor. You let go of Rey to grab it. "Are you there?"

"Finn, what's going on?" You asked taking the comlink.

"Really bad, they're sending reinforcement soon, we don't know how much longer we can hold them" he said and you heard the endless rain of blasters in the back. "The fleet needs help, you gotta hurry." You exchanged gazes with Rey before answering.

"Go. Get out of here" you told him "Get Blue squadron to pick you up, I'll take it from here."

"No, we can't leave-"

"Finn, trust me." You told him and after a quiet moment he spoke again. "Go help the fleet they need you and Poe out there."

"Fine, but we'll get back for you." He said. "Good luck." Then he hanged the call.

Carefully picking up the datapad from the floor Rey handed it to you just as the call ended.

"Let's end this stupid war" she told you and with a last smile you both rushed down the hall, unaware of the eyes of the intruder spying in a dark corner of the room, the eyes of a man that would do anything to gain power, secretly commanding a much stronger kind of soldiers to prevent the rebel and the now traitor Supreme Leader from reaching the control room.

Rey and you stopped in front of a big metal door, the last one before the control room. You were so close to the victory, so close to be finally free, so close to be with her again. It seemed unbelievable how a few minutes you were willing to kill each other but now you were standing side by side waiting for the door to open, it seemed like the old times when you both were sent to small missions, way before she went to Ahch-to to train, before losing her, before all this war. The sight of her calmed you down, and though her was were still tainted with darkness you found tenderness on them, you found love on them.

The sound of heavy footsteps made you flinch and looking over your shoulder you saw a group of unexpected masked warriors coming your way. You recognized their helmets the moment you saw them, knew the group of shadows you had have only seen a few times around the Fortress, often serving as Rey's personal guards and other times in battle ending whatever came their way they were more than trained, knew exactly who they were.

The Knights of Ren.

"Y/N, behind me!" Rey yelled immediately turning her weapon on as the Knights were already sending their first attack that Rey fastly stopped.

The lightsaber in your hand illuminated the room as you got ready to fight again, this time with Rey by your side. Both of you observed how they got dangerously closer you but the scavenger had a different plan in mind.

As soon as the big, heavy blast door finally opened she looked at you.

"Go to the control room" she told you concentrated. "I'll handle this."

“No way. They’re too many” you said "I’m not letting you alone”

“This is my fault, all of it." Rey said meaning her words "Now it’s time I pay for my actions”

“No, I'm not gonna- “

She looked at you in the eye, begging you to let her do it. She had hope again on the eyes and light.

“Please, you have to let me make this right” she told you and before you had time to say a thing she used the Force pushing you backwards and closing the heavy metal doors as soon as you were in the other side.

"No!" You screamed hitting the heavy door. "Rey… " you mumbled feeling the lump forming in your throat. You had just got her back, you couldn't lose her again. However there was no time left, you had to get back to the plan otherwise the galaxy would died. So you forced yourself to keep going, trusting Rey would be alright.

Eventually you made it to the control room and rushed to connect the reprogrammed controller to the main panel. After tapping some buttons the codes inside the datapad started to work, just as Admiral Statura said it would. It would be a matter of time until you could properly deactivate the bombs hopefully forever.

"Well, I have to admit you're not as foolish as I thought." you heard a familiar voice saying.

"Hux" you murmured turning to meet his gaze, founding a blaster in the way.

"And yet, you’ve made the most unintelligent decision by coming back here” he said with a satisfied grin over his face “I certainly have to thank you, Y/N. You brought the Resistance to us, after all.”

“You already lost.” you hissed. Hux chuckled taking a step closer.

“Naive girl, if someone it’s going to lose today, it’s not gonna be us” he told you. “You’re outnumbered, your pathetic fleet it’s going to fall any time now and with that the First Order will finally rule over the galaxy. Congratulations.”

You stared at him with hate, he was a man you disliked since the very first time you met him, someone who you couldn't trust. The real mind behind this whole plan.

You were about to turn on your lightsaber when he shot his blaster aiming to your arm making you drop the weapon in the instant. He rose his voice again, confident of his words.

“I wouldn’t do such stupid thing again.” he warned while you struggled with the pain spreading through your arm. “Now, stop that device.” he ordered threatening you with the blaster in his hand.

“I can’t.” you declared still looking at him in anger.

“You don’t know how to, do you?” he concluded with a smirk. “Then I’m afraid you’re not useful to me. Guess you are indeed foolish after all.” he savored his victory for a moment. “Goodbye, scum.”

General Hux’s eyes widen in surprise as the burning blade crossed his body, a red lightsaber that pierced his body from the back to his chest right across his heart. There was fear on Hux features before the saber turned off and he fell lifeless to the floor revealing the owner of the weapon, Rey was standing there.

“You alright?” she rushed to ask, her eyes focused on the wound of your arm.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” you assured her. “The knights-”

“They’re gone.” she told you. “It’s done?” she said pointing at the datapad on the control panel. You pulled a few levers and when you pressed the last button the little screen showed a message.

Phase Two. Deactivated. System shutted down.

Rey smiled at you reading the message over the screen. You took the comlink.

“It’s done.” you said through the communicator.

“About time.” you heard Poe’s voice.

“We’re leaving now. Poe, get us a ship and blow this thing as soon as we’re outside.” you added already walking down the dark halls with Rey by your side.

“We?” Poe asked confused.

“Yes, we. Now get ready!” you said as you kept running towards the exit.

The battle out planet wasn’t as well as planned, the Resistance ships were old compared with the ones of the First Order, however the rebel pilots knew how to use their ships. They were running out of options, that was when Poe came with the idea to use the last bomber to destroy the enemy’s fleet. He just hoped it would work now that you had deactivated the bombs in the planets.

You were a few feets away from the exit of the Fortress when you noticed Rey was not longer running with you, she was rather just standing there in the middle of the hall looking at the floor.

“Rey, come on! This thing’s gonna exploit” you advised her.

“I can’t go back to the Resistance ” Rey spilled full of guilt .“Not after what I’ve done.”

“Nonsense! Come on!” you said taking her wrist and trying to pull her towards the exit but she released from your grip.

“I abandoned the Resistance when they most needed help. I’ve done terrible things to them, I’ve killed many of them. And worst of all, I’ve hurt you, Y/N. ” her voice cracked filled with pain and regret, pure regret. “I can't just show up and pretend nothing ever happened.” you more than anyone knew that feeling, you had been in the same situation a few days ago. Sighing you rose your voice.

“There are going to be consequences,” you murmured “That’s something you can’t avoid, and sure it’s not gonna be easy” softly you placed a hand on the curve of her face, carefully tilting her face to make her look at you “but whatever it is we’ll face it together, I promise. I love you Rey, please come with me.” you pleaded.

Rey doubted for a moment, it was too much process, she had caused much pain to the galaxy and yet all she wanted was to go with you, whatever place it was as long as it was with you she would follow. She had to keep her promise.

She nodded softly “Okay” she murmured.

With that last word she took your hand and both of you hurried to get out of that dark place that had witnessed the rise and fall of the dark side and after a long time was going to finally fall.

The Falcon was already waiting for you, on the ramp you saw a familiar face extending a friendly hand to help you get inside. Finn was surprised when she found Rey running with you and though he was confused he was glad to know you both were fine. Finn and Rey exchanged gazes, your friend gave her a soft understanding smile while softly nodding, if someone knew how it felt to leave behind the First Order it was him. Once the ramp was closed the Falcon speeded up.

“Poe, now!” Finn yelled through his communicator. From the ship you saw the Fortress explode, sinking into the burning lava that consumed it all turning it into a strange landscape of melted rock. As it melted you felt weightless, the big weight in your shoulders was finally gone, the tensed atmosphere faded away. The voices inside Rey’s head banished too. There was peace.

Balance.

Moving around the Falcon filled with people you felt their eyes staring at you, staring at Rey, they were no happy to see her here and yet nobody said anything.

Once the ship was off the toxic atmosphere of Mustafar you realized there were only remains of the defeated cruisers of the First Order. Poe's plan had worked.

“It’s over” you heard Dameron's voice sounding through the comlink in the ship. He chuckled. “My friends, we won!” he said enthusiastic “We won!” he repeated and you heard the rest of the pilots along with the people in the ship laughing, some of them crying.

It was over.

The war, the endless battles were finally over. All of them were finally safe, finally in peace. The galaxy was safe, ready to start over and so you were.

With all that had happened you couldn't contain the tears pooling in your eyes and the chills spreading over your body. You looked at Finn and wrapped your arms around him as a celebration. He was always there when you needed him most.

Then you turned to Rey all alone watching you from the distance. She gave you a shy smile that melted your heart, carefully pulling her into your embrace you held her close to your body and she held you being careful not to hurt you. The closeness of your body made her own eyes fill with tears that didn't take long to fall over her face.

You backed away just enough to look at her soft features, you found yourself thinking about your journey with Rey it was a long one. From meeting back in the Resistance, to found her in the dark side, to the memories of Mustafar.

Your heart raced when you looked into her eyes only then you noticed her eyes were hazel again, not yellow, softly shining brighter than ever finally free of the grasp of the dark, you were right all along, there was light in her. 'What now?' you asked yourself, sure there were going to be new challenges for both Rey and you but you didn’t worry about it, you had her and that was more than you could had ever ask for.

Leaning in you captured her lips into a soft kiss, you kissed her sweetly, lovingly, enjoying her every move. You were finally together again.

Just when the Falcon jumped into hyperspace you thought of the possibility of a future with Rey, it wouldn't be easy and you knew the darkness would try to come back but you would make sure to make it go away. You broke away and smiled at her, you were willing to take any future as long as you had Rey by your side and you hoped it would be the will of the Force. You hoped for a brighter life, a life full of love, full of life, full of her.

*******

A/N: Well, it's been a wild ride. This story has become an important part of me and it feels weird to know this is the end.

How can I possibly put in words how much this means to me? How much I thank you for taking the time to read my little story? I just want to thank you for all the love and support you gave to this story, I certainly enjoyed writing it and share it with you. I really appreciate you stayed until the end. 💕

I know it's a bit sad that it's over BUT don't worry guys, you're getting an epilogue. Until next time.

The Author.

Tagging: @cpt-bolter , @elvencantation , @jay-birf03 , @x-a-gay-disaster-x , @ridleysjazz , @hstoria , @iamafangirl-fightme , @leilei-draws , @hayley-the-comet , @snoot-snoot-toot , @1-800-depressedlesbian , @empresspalpatinee , @xgaygremlinx , @the-great-imagines-of-1812 , @cyshock

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addictofsupernatural · 5 years ago

Text

Spidey Senses (pt. 3)

Peter Parker x reader

Summary: You and Peter suit up and fight.

Word Count: 2730

Chapter 1 • Chapter 2 • Chapter 4

You woke up in Peter's warm arms, feeling his chest rising and falling peacefully. You slowly got out of his warmth and out into the cold room, where you took a quick shower. While in the shower, Peter woke up and figured it would be nice to get out a pair of clothes for you, laying it out on the bed before going back to sleep for a bit. You grabbed the clothes with a smile and changed in the bathroom. While you were doing that, there was a knock at the door.

Peter got up and opened the door, with low waisted sweat pants and no shirt. Happy furrowed his brows. "What are you doing in y/n's room? Where is she?"

"I think she's changing now in the bathroom. Did something happen?"

"Were you in here with her all night?" Happy was enraged at the misunderstanding situation he was watching.

"Um, yeah?" Peter leaned on the door, which pissed Happy off even more. Was he just eating this up?!

"What the hell is wrong with you? She's only 15, and you're seriously going to toy with her feelings just to sleep with her? Have some respect for her, and yourself!"

As Happy yelled at Peter, Peter was backing up out of shock, causing Happy to walk in. "No no no no no! It isn't like that!"

You got out of the bathroom, having heard Happy's voice and just finished changing. "What'd I miss?"

"Happy thinks we had, like, sex or something!" Peter looked at you in a panic.

"Woah!" You walked in between Happy and Peter. "It's really not what it looks like. I get nightmares so Peter slept in the same room with me. That's it."

"Oh." He shifted his feet awkwardly. "My, my bad. Sorry."

You smiled. "Thank you for defending my honor though. That's really sweet of you." He smiled and nodded back. "So did you want to tell us something?"

"Oh, right." He walked to a different door and opened it, revealing another room.

"Woah, was that a part of our rooms too?!" Peter asked.

"Oh my God that's so cool." You whisper yelled.

Happy geastured to the two suitcases, and Peter got out his phone to record. "Is, is this for for us?" He excitedly asked.

"Who else would it be for?" Happy said.

"This is the coolest thing I've ever seen!" Peter quickly said, almost out of breath. Happy then walked away. "Wait, Happy!"

You then bounced up and down. "This is awesome!" You both put on your outfits facing away from each other. "Okay, ready?"

"Yeah."

"1, 2, 3!" You both turned around to see each other in your super suits. "You look amazing!"

"So do you!" You both hugged each other, and Peter spun you around. You had one mask to cover your eyes and another one to cover your mouth and nose.

"What are you two doing?" Happy came in again.

"We put them on?" You said, confused.

"No, you don't put them on yet. We're taking a plane and then you two put them on. I just wanted you guys to grabs the suitcases."

You both put on your normal clothing over the suits, Peter recording the two of you messing around. You went on the private plane and messed around some more, with Peter waking up to a sleeping Happy as a prank. That's when you got to the empty airport and waited for your signal.

You glaced at Peter, only to see him taking out his camera and still filming. "Are you recording this too?!"

"I need to get everything." He then pointed the camera to you. "Alright, let's see that face."

"This face isn't gonna be front and center in your videos Peter. You know I hate seeing myself on camera." You turned away from him.

He felt a little bad for reminding you of your insecurities, but decided that teasing you would make you feel better. "C'mon, just a little." He reach over and pulled down your mouth mask. "Let's just get the smile and..." He pulled over your eye mask as well. "Aww, see? You look nice."

He pinched your cheek and you giggled, swatting his hand away. "Okay, you got me. I guess I'm in your video diary."

"Don't worry folks, we got her smile." He teased some more. You put back on your masks and hugged him from the side as he talked to the camera one on one.

"Underoos!"

The signal was then shouted, and you both swooped in, you shooting a web at Steve's arm while Peter grabbed his shield. "Hey everyone." Peter said.

"Did we miss something?" You teased.

A big fight erupted quickly, and you were defending everyone whenever you could. You and Peter were with the Falcon for a bit. "So what's your suit made out of? Carbon fiber?"

You hung upside down and stared at the fallen Falcon. "That would explain the flexibility ratio."

"So Tony just hired teenager hims now?" Sam asked sarcastically.

"Does our intelligence threaten you?" You asked seriously before giggling and coming back to the ground. "I'm totally kidding man. I love your wings and I'm a pretty big fan."

Then there was that amazing moment for you when Clint was coming at the Black Panther, who was trying to get to the Ant Man. As he was running you ran over to him, sliding on your knees as you stuck out your arms. "Need a lift?" You asked.

You then boosted him up where he hopped right above Clint and punching Ant Man. "Thank you young one."

"Course sir!"

Soon the Ant Man was suddenly huge, and you followed in Peter's lead of wrapping him in webbing. You then heard Peter ask, "Hey, have you guys seen that really old movie Empire Strikes Back?"

You bursted into a fit of giggles over the question, and you heard, "Jesus Tony, how old are these kids?"

"Just hear Peter out sir." You suggested.

He was panting from working hard at this point, as were you. "You guys remember... on the snow planet... with the walking thingies!"

"I think the kid might be onto something." Tony said. Sure enough, it worked.

"Yes~!" You cheered.

"That was awesome–!" You and Peter both got cut off from the slap of the Ant Man's hand. You both slammed into the ground, where Tony told you guys that you did a great job, and that you were done.

You both took off your masks. "So," you said breathlessly. "We just fought with the Avengers."

"I stole Captain America's shield." You both giggled.

When you both got up and retrieved Peter's camera, you saw that Happy was waiting in his car outside. You both got in and sighed at the comfort of sitting on cushions. "Rough fight?" He asked.

"The guy with the metal arm was pretty cool." You said. "And I like Falcon's suit."

"I like how Mr. Stark vouched for us with the War Machine." Peter said.

"You two look like crap." You gave Happy a smile at the comment. "You're going to be in the hotel for the rest of the day, and Tony's gonna come with you tonight to drop you two off."

Once you two were in your hotel room, Peter rambled on to his camera, and you put in some information occasionally. Once Happy came and told him to shut up, he turned off the camera and faced you.

"So I have, like, a huge favor to ask." You sat on your bed and patted him to sit as well, which he did. "I need help with talking to Liz."

"W–um, okay." You said slowly. It's fine. You were his friend, and you had to help him out. Even if it hurt. "It's easy, just talk to me and pretend I'm her."

"Okay." He said quietly.

"Hey Peter." You said and smiled.

"H...Hey Liz."

"How was your day?"

"It was, um, it was good. How's your day? Did you–Did you have a good time, or... not that you were going anywhere but if your day in general was a good time. Y'know, sometimes you could just be at school and have a good time or—"

"Peter stop." You said, giving him a wide grin as you covered his mouth with your hand. "You need to take a deep breath and calm down."

"I know, it's just really hard when I'm talking to her." He sighed in defeat. "I'm just gonna keep looking stupid in front of her. What's the point."

"Don't say that." you said quietly. You leaned into the headboard, and opened your arms. He laid down into your side, fitting perfectly. You began stroking his soft hair. "You don't look stupid, and you never have. You just need to be confident with yourself and talk to her as if you were talking to any other girl. You're amazing Peter, of course she'll like you back."

He tightened his grip around you. "Thanks y/n. You're amazing too."

You both dozed off, but unlike the peaceful Peter in your arms, you fell asleep upset with the doubts about yourself kicking in. Your dreams went back to the thought of your mom and her friends. The drugs. You couldn't stop them from putting a needle in you. You thrashed around but they pinned you down. You yelled out for someone to help you, but they covered your mouth. Nobody's going to help you.

"Y/n wake up!"

You jolted up from your bed, where Peter was shaking you awake. You had tears in your eyes. "I... They held me down... I couldn't move..."

"It's okay. It's just you and me. Nobody else." He brought you into his arms as you hugged him tightly, quietly sobbing.

Happy then came into the room. "What happened?"

"It's nothing, she just had a nightmare." You hid your face in Peter's shirt, not wanting Happy to see you like this. "She doesn't like people seeing her cry."

"Oh, uh, sorry." He then left the room.

After a bit you stopped crying, Peter being patient with you the whole time. "Are you okay now?"

"I guess." You sat up and turned away from him, putting your face in your hands. "I'm sorry you had to see that."

"It's okay, sometimes you just need to let out a good cry." He scooted closer to you. "Can I see your face please?"

"Why?" Your voice came out as a whisper.

"Cause you're hiding it from me." He gently moved your hands. "Look, I found my best friend."

You smiled and went on your knees to wrap him in a hug. "Thank you Peter. You always make me happy."

At that moment, Peter noticed how good you smell. He's always been around your familiar scent, but it was never this good before. And you hair, was it always so soft and shiny? You felt so soft and warm right now. He didn't know how to describe it, but you just felt so overwhelmingly nice in his arms.

It was cut short by Happy knocking as Tony barged in. "Alright, time to go." You both sperated and quickly got your stuff. As you were leaving Tony blankly told you, "Your face is puffy. Why?"

"Your ego is huge. Why?"

"Fair enough." You and Peter packed up the car when when Happy whispered to you, making sure you were okay. "Y/n, you and me are in the back. Kid you go in the front."

"Um, Mr. Stark sir." Peter fiddled with the bottom of his shirt.

"Look at me in the eye when you're talking to me." Peter's head quickly shot up. "Okay, what?"

"Please don't pressure her with questions. She's been through some stuff and I don't think it's fair if–"

"Peter, it's okay." You said. "He's still gonna overstep. I don't mind."

"Okay." You both smiled at each other as you went into the car.

"Happy put up the divider." Once it was up, he turned to you. "So you two had a moment."

"It's not a moment, I just had a nightmare. And by the way, what did you say to him yesterday?"

"I was just helping him compare you to that other girl." He said casually.

"You what? Wha–why would you do that? She's like, actual perfection!"

"And what do you think you are?"

"Nowhere near her." You sighed and looked out the window. "Well that explains him asking for help on talking to her."

"Oh wow, what an idiot. That's not at all what I was going for." He put his hand under his chin.

"I know but he gets like that with her. He really likes her Tony. Thanks for trying to help, but me and him are hopeless."

"I call bullshit on that. You two are adorable, and I can tell you'll end up together."

"Thanks." You smiled.

He knocked on the dividers, and you and Peter switched places, only with the dividers down. Peter talked to his camera some more, and Tony caught him, making a joke about it before talking into the camera as well. He then told the two of you that you were keeping the suits.

"One question I do have is for the other kid."

"Is he talking about me?" You mumbled to Happy.

"I think he is." He mumbled back.

"Did he just call me the 'other kid'? That's so rude." You then turned to Tony, smiling at Happy's quiet, high pitched chuckle. "What's up?"

"Why do you call me Tony instead of Mr. Stark like Peter? You called everyone else sir."

"That's not true. I call my new best friend Happy by his name."

Happy looked at you and awkwardly shook his head. "She doesn't mean that Tony."

"Yes I do. I'm stealing your friends. Now I just need to meet James Rhodes and Pepper Potts."

Peter let out a chuckle, and Tony laughed as well. "Watch it kid. And that didn't answer my question."

You shrugged. "I don't know, just sounds right. I guess I can try." You made your voice sound more mature when you asked, "Will that be all Mr. Stark?"

"Okay now you sound like Pepper, which is really creepy for me."

You giggled. "Tony it is."

"Oh, and before I forget." He took out a check and stuck his hand out for you to take it. "Here you go."

You only stared at it. "What's that for?"

He lightly scoffed. "You don't really think I'm not gonna help you out when you're living in a dump like that."

You frowned, and the car came to a stop at your apartment complex. "That dump is what I call home Tony." You said quietly. "I'm proud of it."

"No offense kid, but you really shouldn't be proud of that." Peter said nothing, but his body language changed.

"Well I, the 15 year old, got an apartment by herself. I got a job to pay for my living, and I cook and clean for myself. I even started buying cable recently. So yeah, I'd say I'm proud of what I managed to do. Some people aren't as lucky as me. I'm not a charity case, so don't treat me like one."

He hesitated. "I didn't mean–"

"Goodbye Mr. Stark." You then got out of the car, and they heard a glimpse of you saying "Linda!"

"I'll take the check Mr. Stark." Peter said. "I'll make sure she takes it tomorrow. She just gets angry and embarrassed when people look down on her. It's happened to her a lot, but she'll realize that you did it out of kindness."

Tony stared out the window. "Who's that?"

Peter saw that you were talking to a homeless girl, and buying a newspaper from her. "That's Linda. Y/n became friends with her not too long after she moved into the apartment. They talk, sometimes she cooks for Linda and let's her shower, and Linda sometimes leaves some money on y/n's counter. Maybe like a dollar or two. Y/n doesn't say anything about it so she doesn't embarrass Linda."

Meanwhile, you were talking to your friend outside. "Okay, I'll get us something to eat. I don't really have anything made so cereal it is."

"Lucky charms." She called out as you ran up the stairs.

"Got it!"

While you were preoccupied, Peter and Tony got out of the car. "Hey Linda." Peter said.

"Hey Peter! I'm sure your internship trip was fun with y/n."

Peter chuckled. "Yeah it was awesome."

"Kid go get her bags." Peter didn't say anything is he went to the trunk to get your suitcases. "Hi. Tony."

"You're..."

"Yup. Do you have a bank account?"

"Well, no."

"Then here." He took off his watch and handed it to her. "This is all I really have on me at the moment."

"Holy shit. Um, thank you sir!"

"Don't mention it." Just as you came down the steps with two bowls in hand, Tony nodded to you and went into the car.

"I'll bring these up to your apartment for you." Peter said.

"You have a lot to tell me you little shit." Linda said, grinning wide. "You didn't mention Tony Stark being a part of your internship tour."

"Ugh, I guess I could tell you a little bit." You teased.

"I just want to hear about him. Holy crap he's hotter in person."

"Do you ever not cuss Linda? Like, shit bro."

"What are you gonna do, tell my parents? And what about you? You just cussed."

"What are you gonna do, tell my parents?" You chuckled.

She scoffed and looked down at her bowl. "That was a pretty good come back."

"Okay, your stuff is in your living room." Peter said as he came out. You both hugged. "Good night."

"Night." He then left you to your nosy and thirsty friend.

---

Author's Note: Sorry this took long to do. I'll be quicker from now on.

---

Tag List:

@flawlessapollo6 @them-cute-boys @lunawndrlnd @the-greatt-perhaps @babebenhardy @sofisofi1602 @smilexcaptainx

#mcu peter parker #marvel peter parker #peter parker marvel #peter parker x reader #peter parker #spiderman #spider man: far from home #tom holland #tom holland spiderman

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r3b3lgrrrrrrrl · 5 years ago

Text

A LunaTic and Her Gunn (Part 112) "Sliding Safely Back Home"

@crystalbaby12 @backoftheroomandnotbelonging @5sosfam1dlover @rosefilledhearts-blog

Colson had immediately called Ashleigh; who called his Cleveland housekeeper, Lucy. On a Sunday, during Fourth of July Weekend; asking her to please come clean up the mess that he had made. The conversation between Colson and Ashleigh involved a strong talking to and the promise of him watching her LIVE tutorial regarding the difference between dish soap and DISHWASHER DETERGENT. Along with an even stronger suggestion of leaving Lucy a HUGE tip for her inconvenience and troubles. Colson had agreed easily. He didn't care how much it cost as long as he didn't have to deal with the ocean of bubbles he was responsible for.

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Sticky, soaked and gross, Colson was still irritated with Luna when he joined her in the shower. Pulling hard on her hair, he roughly fucked her from behind. Not saying a word amongst his grunts and moans. Alleviating some of his frustrations along the way as he made her wince multiple times from the hard slaps he'd landed directly onto her plump ass. Luna took her punishment like a Good Girl, bouncing off of his thick cock studiously. Making them both willingly explode for the other amongst the steam.

After rinsing himself off, Colson had pushed Luna against the wall. With his oversized, heavy palm against her collarbone, he kissed her hard. Biting her lip after.

"This isn't fucking over." He promised her before stepping out of the shower.

"UGH... I hate him so FUCKING much..." Luna had thought to herself as her body flushed in desire from Colson's threat.

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

"I know she didn't do shit but still...." Colson's mind continued to throb. His stomach twisting at the thought of Luna's lips touching anyone else's but his, making the jealousy roll thickly throughout his body while he dried himself off. Adamantly trying to remind himself instead of the many times Luna had shown her devotion to him.

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Colson's attitude softened a bit more as they fell into their usual routine of getting stoned and doing other drugs together while getting dressed. They talked about what Colson expected from the game amongst other small things.

With light makeup on, Luna braided her long hair into pigtails. It was when she tossed on her cherished Rizzuto jersey over a knotted white T and black leggings along with her Yankees hat, that she caught a hard SideEye from Colson.

"I seriously hope he doesn't expect me to rep The Indians... Like, EVER... Because that's a hard NO." Luna thought to herself kinda baffled by his reaction.

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"Yo! You guys wanna kick it with Sid today?" Pete had asked once they had made their way downstairs.

"What? No. We're bringing Case." Luna scowled at both of them, killing their vibe.

"Fine, how 'bout a little micro dosing then?" Pete offered up a comprise as he pulled out a bag of mushrooms.

Before Luna could protest again, Colson's hand was down the bag and the mushrooms were inside of his mouth. Chewing with a smug look on his face while watching Luna's reaction.

"Fine." She had rolled her eyes as she grabbed her own small handful.

"Let the games begin." Colson declared as he rubbed his hands together with a diabolical smile while Luna chewed.

"You guys are the worst." She went on to sigh as she shook her head, both grinning as they agreed with her.

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Not being able to find her leather on their way out, Luna had grabbed Colson's oversized jean jacket off of the couch. With Casie in her beloved, clean, yellow T-shirt, they were out the door with Mod, Rook, Benny and a strongly protesting Pete to the idea of leaving Kevin behind.

"He'll be lonely and think I abandoned him!" Pete had shouted with wild eyes, he'd started micro dosing way before offering any to Luna and Colson.

"I talked to Kev, Petey... He's knows... He's cool. I set him up with a movie and everything." Luna had calmly reassured him.

Only being able to get Pete inside the SUV after convincing him it was for Kevin's own safety. That there just weren't enough seatbelts in Colson's Navigator to get all of them to Progressive Field safely. He continued to complain with worry for a majority of the ride until Casie told him to Calm It Down.

Phem, Noah and Caroline had caught an Uber to Hopkins for a flight to LA a bit earlier. Slim heading back to his own Cleveland house in the meantime. The plan being to meet back at Colson's for Family Dinner around 730/8ish to map out the upcoming week or so.

Leaving Kevin to chill at the house alone, watching Back To The Future with a blanket and a bowl of Doritos. Luna doesn't lie.

---------------------------------------------------

At Progressive Field, it's Team World V. Team Cleveland. Colson gets changed as Luna roams around the stadium with Casie, Pete, Rook, Mod and Benny. Grabbing enough hot dogs, pizza, sodas, french fries and beers to satisfy Chris Farley, minus the speedball, they head onto the field.

Mixing in with the other celebrities, Luna introduces herself to Dascha Polanco. Making an immediate friend as she genuinely gushes and congratulates her with a huge hug over her success through Orange Is The New Black and How she's Dying for the Last Season BUT NO SPOILERS, PLEASE.

Also being a NYC native, Luna finds herself having a LOT of things in common the actress. Starting off with the Bitching of The Bagel that includes huge, knowing laughs. They flow through to different HangOuts, common friends and experiences until the conversational river finally opens up to Luna's humble embarrassment when Dascha realizes who she actually is. Knowing her first and foremost by her photography and obscure reputation, it just so happens that Dascha is also a genuine fan of Dysfunctional Baggage.

Luna's new friend being wise enough to not to make a big deal out of her FanGirling Soul and to skip the verbal condolences with a simple look of acknowledgment. Breaking the verbal damn by asking Luna What Her Favorite Book Is to the artist's relief.

It's The Little Disturbances of Man. Luna's kept a hardback copy of it on her ever since she first read it when she was 10yrs old. Finding that it helps her humanize the masses when The World seems too mean for it's own good.

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Colson is busy introducing Casie to Anthony Mackie, who plays Falcon in the MCU. They're all huge fans and Colson's can't help his slightly spiteful mind snark to itself how Luna's missing out. He's still mad. At her. At Jackson. At the idea of anyone other than him being near His Girl.

"She's gonna be saaaallttyy... I don't even fucking care. Fuck her..." Colson's mind abruptly shifts scenarios. "It may be more Jackson's fault... But that fucking bitch needs to realize what the fuck she's capable of on her own... Like, for real. Kissen' MOTHERFUCKERS and SHIT..." Colson feels his jealousy bubbles begin to simmer. Looking over Casie's head he catches Luna's eye not too far down the field. Their souls connecting instantly. Colson can feel her smile seep deep inside of him as she spreads her fingers wide to greet him like she always does. "FUUUUUUUCK Me." He pouts to himself as he feels his dick stiffen at the sight of her. Taking a gulp of air, he looks down at Casie. "Chill Kells... Focus. Kick this fucker out, then we'll deal with Luna." He pep talks himself before turning all of his attention back to Anthony, his daughter and the game ahead of him.

"Are you and AntMan friends yet? I don't believe that Captain just reeee-tired." Casie challenges as she rolls her eyes. "Annnnnnnnd, just so you know. Human is better and Carol Danvers is THE BEST." Casie cocks out her hip as she thrusts her hand onto it. "But I like that you can fly." She offers out with a slightly forgiving tone.

Colson and Anthony burst out laughing over the girl's questions and opinions. Anthony can't help but slap Colson's on the back. Reassuring him that he's got a Wild One as his roarous laughter continues before he squats down to speak with the girl.

"Yeah... I'm friends with AntMan... But he's tiny and annoying... And... Yeup, unfortunately, Cap's retired. He needed a break. He is like 500YRS OLD, you know!" Anthony chuckles as he throws his hands out to Casie's giggle. He continues on slightly serious as he looks her in the eyes. "Human is definitely better though and I don't care what the other Avengers's say..." Anthony leans closer to Casie. "You're right. Captain Marvel is THE BOSS... Her WHOLE body is an energy source!" Falcon goes on to laugh with Casie at his CoStar's undeniable powers. "And, Thank You." His tone lightens as he smiles at her softly. "I like that I can fly too." Anthony nods his head in solidification at Casie as his smile turns into grin, knowing it's more important to boost kindness, strength and acceptance inside a child over anything else.

After finishing up her chat with Falcon, Colson leads Casie over to his reserved seats. The mushrooms are just kicking in as he finds Luna and The Boys. Settling Casie, he kisses Luna with a forgiving look. With Casie muching, Rook and Benny drinking away and Luna beginning to feel the giddiness of the fungai with Pete, they all wish Colson a Good Game before he disappears again to find his team.

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Travis Hafners's daughter opens the game with The National Anthem at 5P. For as young as she is, she's perfectly on pitch and astonishingly commanding of the entire stadium. If she wasn't so young, Luna might've immediately thought to sign her.

Being leery of the Music Business herself, she finds herself going back and forth about it by the bottom of the First as her third eye opens. Not being able to decide on whether to leave the girl alone or to step in. "I know I'm not the only one to hear her power... Fuck, the game's being the televised... I COULD be a protective barrier between an impressionable girl and some much unnecessary Nastiness though...." Luna holds onto her thoughts. Choosing to consult Colson and The Ash's... And possibly Sammy before deciding on any type of action. Trying to focus on Colson and the game instead for the rest of the evening, the strong voice continues to sing in the back of her colorful mind as ideas manifest along with it.

The lineup is stocked with Cleveland's greatest, finest and most map worthy. The World's Team rounding out with a wide array of goodies itself. The game is filled with Ewwws & Awwws, whooping, clapping, screaming and even the occasional Boo. Cleveland is an unforgiving City, almost rivaling Philadelphia.

The Miz from WWE opens up the game by coming out looking like Wild Thing as The World's Team takes the plate. Driving the crowd insane by rocking thick, black glasses on the mound while he imitates Charlie Sheen’s stance from the iconic film. On The World's Team, Daddy Yankee hit a triple slightly past Colson in the first inning. He could've caught it but was too distracted by the signs in clouds. Thankfully no one caught THAT as the batter ALMOST ran out of his pants as he flew past first base. Making Casie point and laugh loudly with her adult company. Falcon from The Avengers hit a pop fly to The Miz, causing him to crash backwards into their second baseman Stephanie Beatriz as he made the catch. Successfully ending the first inning.

Rook and Mod miss The Funny while conversing with Casie and the Hot Girl Summer happening behind them. Being RockStars truly has it's perks... ALL of the time. Luna on the other hand is an avid sports fan, having caught Benny's eye and a couple of Pete's elbows to her giggly ribcage during the first inning. Cracking up together over the on field collision they had all witnessed. There's something about people from NY... They love their fucking baseball.

During the third inning, Jim Thome's son joins the game acting as a pinch hitter. Batting left-handed, the young boy points his bat at the pitcher, just like his legendary father used to. With that and a solid smack, he snatches a two-run single through center field that pulls Cleveland's Team within four runs at a score of 16-12. JR Smith enthusiastically welcoming the boy as he runs Home.

The announcer mentions The Hometown Anti Heroe's love of Ramen as Colson steps up to the plate with multicolored vision. Following the young Thome with a drive to right field that eludes Ryan Howard, The Great HomeRun Hitter of the 2008 World FUCKING Champions. Colson races around past third with his tongue wagging in determination as he finds himself sliding safely back Home for an InField HomeRun.

"MOTHAFUCKEN' RIGHT YOU DID IT!! YOU ARE A GOLDEN FUCKING GOD." His tripping soul excitedly screams at him as he hits a light peak.

Colson's HomeRun leaves The World's Team within a three run grasp. Smith hoisting Colson high in the air as Team Cleveland celebrates his epic run. Casie and Luna hooting and hollering as they ecstatically cheer him on along with with Pete, Mod, Rook and Benny.

Finally, in comes The Legend of Cleveland himself, Travis Hafner. The retired Indians slugger crushes a ball to the left, over the wall and nearly hits Mustard the Hot Dog mascot standing near The Corner. Who took the surprise gracefully. Had it been the Philly Phanatic and Victorino, there probably would've been a fight on Broad Street.

Cleveland’s comeback being only a run behind now as another one of The Indian's legends steps up to bat. Carlos Baerga nailing a solo home run in the bottom of the fourth. Bringing the score to 16-15 heading into the fifth.

The World's Team scores five fucking times in the top of the fifth. Luna losing her shit along the way as Mod, Rook and Casie look at her like she's crazy but Pete and Benny laugh in appreciation of her passion and knowledge. It's the shocking two-run homer by Falcon as his drive to the left slips under the glove of The Great Hafner that truly fucks her up. Screaming WHAT THE FUUUUUCK as she jumps up and Pete laughs while pulling her back down. Rooting for the other team, Luna's soul is torn as Yankees legend, Bernie Williams steps up to bat. With a solo blast to left, Luna silently exchanges a cheering look with Pete for their hometown team as he slams another HomeRun. Pushing the score to 21-15. The World's Team leading hard with six runs at the bottom of the inning.

Cleveland comes to bat one last time. Allie LaForce starting them off with a single and scoring Cleveland another run on a ground ball by Beatriz. It's JR's pop up that gives them their last out. Swiftly stealing Team Cleveland's hopes for comeback. Ending the five inning game at 21-16.

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Hanging out for a bit after, even with the loss Colson's giddy from the mushrooms and happy with his performance. He's in the middle of busting it up with Jamie Fox while Luna talks with Stephanie close by. Casie leaves Rook and Benny to find her dad. Standing next to him, she dangles on his arm while patiently waiting for him to finish his conversation.

"Anyone ever told you how smooth your daddy is?" A middle aged woman asks as she slinks up to the young girl.

Colson forgets about his conversation as he turns around and laughs loudly at her absurdity while Casie physically recoils. Offended by the stranger's words and grasping onto her father's arm, she recovers quickly.

"Yeah. His GIRLFRIEND." Casie fires back with a monotoned voice before perking up. "Hi, Looney!" She exclaims as her face shifts from a scowl to a relieved, bright smile before falling into a smug look that she smoothly shoots at the stranger from the comfort of Luna's presence.

"Hiii, Dilla." Luna coos with her own gleam, having observed the whole scene. "How are you?" She asks the woman as her grin sweetly widens while she acknowledges and glides past her with eye contact and a nod. "You guys ready? We should find The Boys, we gotta get home for dinner." She advises as she ignores the woman and collects her family.

Luna takes Casie by the hand as Colson slips his arm around Luna. Tucking her wounded shoulder safely inside of him as always. Walking away, Casie turns over her left shoulder in between her and Luna. Glaring at the woman, she throws up her middle finger behind her back with her free right hand. Smirking at the woman's shocked reaction before turning back around triumphantly.

On their way home from the baseball field Colson posts the playful picture Rook had taken of him, Casie and Luna on the way to the car out of the park. A smile curling up on his lips as he places the caption. Proving they're always better together.

××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××

"Who needs luck when you got them skills and these two as your biggest fans 🏆❤️💎💯"

×××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××

"FUUUUUUUCK, I MISSED YOU!!" Luna exclaims with overwhelmingly vibrant enthusiasm as soon as she walks into the kitchen and sees Sam. Grabbing her into a deep, soul hug, she plunks a huge kiss on her cheek. Squeezing her hand, she drags her around the island to a cooking Ashleigh. "I missed you tooooo, Buddy!" Luna squishes her with a hug from behind as she smooches her cheek also. Noticing two women she doesn't know at the island, she immediately greets them warmly. "Hi! I'm Luna." She smiles at the women as she extends her hand to AJ's wife, Naomi and Dub's girlfriend, Natasha. "It's a pleasure." She beams at them.

"Shit. Shit. Shit. I hope she doesn't know I hit Her Dude." Luna immediately thinks of her mishap with Dub.

"More wine?" She asks as she tests the waters while still dragging Sam along with her to finally sit at the island as she fills the ladies wine glasses. "So tell me.... What's the story mornin' glories?" Luna laughs as she pours herself a glass of wine, figuring that if it's gonna be something... It's gonna be something.

Gathered in the kitchen, the four women talk about all kinds of different things as they get to know each other. Jumping from their individual careers and hobbies to fashion and politics and everything in between. Including the dumb shit their guys do. Sam smiling slyly while Ashleigh shrugs with a Fucking Men as she continues battering chicken. Potatoes are boiling to be mashed and green beans are sautéing. Colson comes into the kitchen to pick at dinner while Ashleigh swats at him. There's a bunch of them over and she's been air frying for over an hour now. Her chicken is NOT to be fucked with.

"What I tell ya, fucking men." Ashleigh mimicks a young Madonna as she clucks her tongue and rolls her eyes.

"Fugkin' MEN, WHAT?" He asks with his hands, imitating a horrible Brooklyn accent before he kisses Ashleigh's cheek.

Laughing at the two of them while shaking her head and standing, Luna watches Casie along with Ashton, Dub's daughter and AJ's two girls. Gazing out at them, she notices how they're very much

like their parents. Rolling and falling all over each other as they rough house around the huge yard. Still in the kitchen and spotting her Polaroid camera in her bag on the counter; Colson snaps a quick picture of Luna without her noticing. Setting the camera back where he found it, he plops a wet kiss in the side of her head to her tilted smile. Walking back into the living room, he shakes the instant photo in his hand. Watching as it slowly creeps into focus, his heart beats faster as it forms.

"FUCK, she's gorgeous." He can't help but smile to himself as he pulls on his wallet chain to tuck it into it's new home safely.

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"DIIINNNNERRR!!!" Ashleigh yells.

Those who aren't already in the kitchen come roaring inside. With almost twenty of them that are functional, they each help carry parts of their meal into the dining room with the expanded table. You'd think they'd be a hot mess but some how they function surprisingly well together. Each naturally gravitating to a job.

Luna counts plates. Sam grabs the green beans, Casie and AJ's daughters collect silverware as Colson places down the napkins. Slim pulls another bottle of white as Mod helps him with beers and lemonade out of the fridge. AJ collecting cups for the kids out of the cabinet. D gets Ashton milk as Rook happily snatches up the bowl of mashed potatoes, salt and pepper. Sneakily dipping his finger into it and taking a bite to Ashleigh's immediate ROOK. Pete strictly limits himself to butter duty, he's too high to handle anything else. Dub and Benny help with the salad, bowls and dressings as Natasha settles their daughter and Ashton at the table. Ashleigh handles the chicken with Naomi, making The Kid's plates first. Kevin's sat down for dinner before anyone, making Baze hop up to grab the Louisiana hot sauce from the fridge upon his judgmental request to everyone's equal shame and laughter.

Dinner is loud as always. Everyone talking over each other as they pass food and condiments during cross table conversations. The Three Dinner Questions are answered by everyone before they talk about the game. Filling Slim and Dub in on Colson's inpark HomeRun. The Boys eventually going on to bust each other's balls as usual while The Women continue to get to know each other and The Kids ask questions about EVERYTHING. Beers and white wine being passed along as quickly as Ashleigh's homemade chicken.

"So, you don't mind the air fryer?" She asks.

"This is air fried?" Dub asks in shock.

"What the FUCK is air fried?" Benny asks with such a panicked authority Luna can't help but laugh; she's never seen him react like that.

"You cook with hot air instead of grease." Ashleigh tries to explain.

"Fuck that voodoo ass nonsense, Ash." Benny drops his chicken and crosses his arms.

"You good, Benz? Cuz you're on some real weird ass shit right now, Pal." Luna lightly laughs again.

"Nah man, that shit ain't right... Fucking air fry... Just sounds like some voodoo shit." Benny sticks to his guns with his arms still crossed.

"What the fuck do you think a microwave is?" Sam scoffs at him. "Talk about unnatural? That's fucking electromagnetic waves verses air, Bro. Get it. Together." She rolls her eyes as she chomps into her chicken leg.

Benny thinks about science for a minute before picking his chicken back up. It's too delicious too deny. Even if it is voodoo chicken.

"Fucking Men." Sam mumbles to Ashleigh's laughter as she shakes her head and enjoys her chicken.

No one else is afraid of air fried chicken. Easily finishing it off. Benny eating five pieces of the devil's work alone. As they sit with full bellies, they start to talk about the up coming week. Colson and AJ having their girls clear the table so that they can work.

"I've got you guys booked for GMA this Thursday." Ashleigh informs Luna and Colson while looking at the calendar on her phone.

"This Thursday? Like four days from now?" Luna asks. "For what?"

"Have you not talked to Jackie?" Ashleigh sighs, sounding like Monica.

"No... It's the Fourth of July Weeknd. I figured she'd start tomorrow." Luna shrugs.

When Ashleigh sighs again Sam, AJ and Rook simultaneously stand up, grabbing odd things the kids had missed off the table and heading into the kitchen. Naomi, Natasha, Baze and Benny follow behind shortly along with Dub and D grabbing their babies. That leaves Luna, Colson, Slim, Kevin and a super stoned Pete. He still has is plate in front of him and is just hangen' out while he figures it out.

"They were supposed to contact her." Ashleigh explains.

"Here... Let's just fucking call her." Luna pulls her phone out and looks for Jackie's number, there's a slight attitude to her tone.

It's not directed at Ashleigh. It's more towards television and MorningTime Bullshit Talk TV. Luna's avoided things like this all of her career. Now it like she's Tom from Tom&Jerry; with fame and over exposure being the rake that constantly keeps smacking her in fucking her face.

"Hello?" Jackie answers on the second ring.

"Hey Jack, it's Loon..." Luna greets her friend. "I got you on speaker with Colson and his manager, Ashleigh..." Luna pauses for them to say Hello. "Uhmmmm... She has me booked for GMA Thursday? Do you know anything about that? Apparently they were supposed to hit you up?" Luna asks.

"Yeah, you didn't get my messages?" Her chipper voice slips through the speakerphone.

"What messages?" Luna asks as Ashleigh cuts her a What The Fuck look.

"The text, email and voicemail I left Friday evening, telling you about the booking... Is there a problem, Loons?" Jackie's sweet Australian accent asks suddenly concerned.

"Yeah. Luna's a jackass who doesn't answer her phone." Colson laughs as he smirks at her.

"Man, fuck you." Luna rolls her eyes but knows that it's true. "Is there anything else?"

"Yeah, Rolling Stone wants to book you and Colson in September for their October issue... I need whatever IT is...? I got a call from Kimmel for either Nightmare or Bad Things, they don't care which. One for something called Hot Ones. Oh! This is fun... I also got call asking for you to be a judge on RuPaul's drag show! I think you should definitely do that one!" She giggles after rattling off the long list.

"What the fuck.... Why? Ugh." Luna mentally sighs as she rubs her forehead in irritation.

"Hi, Jackie... This is Ashleigh, Colson's manager. I'm gonna take your number if you don't mind. Colson's going back on tour overseas in August, this way we can just coordinate their schedules together." Ashleigh steps in to help out. "Get them booked on the right things... And make sure everyone's communicating." She gives Luna a glance to her grateful smile and playful middle finger in return.

"That's a great idea!" Jackie immediately agrees.

"While we have her on the phone, let's get everyone in here so we can lock down the week." Ashleigh suggests to Luna's nod.

With Baze, AJ, Sammy, Benny, Rook and Mod back in the dining room, they go over the upcoming week. Monday, Luna and Colson are headed to the DMV for her Ohio ID, the courthouse to apply for their marriage license and to Colson's Cleveland jeweler to hopefully find their wedding bands. Deanna's expected in early Tuesday morning to finish the rest of the fittings. Casie is set to head back to her mom's Wednesday evening while Mod flies back to LA and Luna, Colson, The Boys, Sammy, Kevin, Pete and Deanna take off in the other direction to NYC. Thursday is GMA and other business. Sam agrees to call Mikey to see if he'll fly back with them Thursday night to record IT on Friday.

Feeling confident about the upcoming week, Luna takes Jackie off of speaker to talk to her privately. Ashleigh going on to present Colson with a handful of movie scripts as Luna heads out back.

"I need you to do me a favor..." Luna begins. "When I'm in The City on Thursday, I wanna get into my storage unit and pull the things I want in The Brownstone... Can you book movers and make sure it all safely gets there afterwards? I'll give you a key beforehand."

"Yeah... No problem, Loons. You want me to meet you there and help?" Jackie asks.

"If you wouldn't mind, that'd be awesome. Sammy'll probably be with me too." Luna answers.

"Absolutely. I'll meet you Thursday morning in Times Square, Sweetie." Jackie's Australian accent coos before Luna Thanks her and they say GoodBye.

Once off the phone with Jackie, Luna calls Monica. They speak on the details regarding the two new properties Luna's trying to obtain. Luna then goes on to ask Monica about the PreNump. It's ready to be signed, Luna informing her attorney when she'll be in town this upcoming week as they can schedule a meeting.

"I know you don't wanna do this Loons..." Monica tries to comfort Luna before she cuts her off.

"I don't wanna talk about it. I'll see you Thursday. Thanks as always, Mon." Luna quickly ends the conversation.

Walking back into the house, everyone is still gathered at the dining room table. Luna politely asks to talk to Colson and Ashleigh alone.

"What's up?" Colson asks with concern as he fills her wine glass.

"Did you happen to mention the PreNump to Ash?" She asks lowly as she looks over at their friend.

"He did... Why? Is everything okay?" Ashleigh's voice now holds it's own tone of concern.

"Yeah, uhmmmm... I just got off the phone with Monica. It's drawn up and we're set to sign it while we're in NY....." Luna trails.

"But..." Colson leads her as he lights a joint.

"You know I don't want this and I trust Monica with my life but I'd feel so much better if you brought Cyrus to look over it on your behalf." Luna explains to Colson as she takes a sip of her wine. "Do you think you can get him out there with us?" She asks as she turns to Ashleigh.

"I'll call him right now." Ashleigh replies, appreciating Luna's transparency as she calls Colson's private lawyer.

Colson and Luna sit and share the joint as Ashleigh makes the phone call. He gently comforts her worries about the PreNump before they start talking about how they want the performance on GMA to feel. Off the phone, Ashleigh reassures them Cyrus will be at the meeting.

After a while AJ, Dub and Ashleigh collect their families. Spreading Love and GoodByes as Baze and Sam head out with them. Slim not far behind. Leaving Colson, Luna, Casie, Pete, Kevin, Rook, Mod and Benny.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Casie is tucked safely in bed after her and Colson's tradition of three books and their GoodNight Song. Mod is painting in the living room with Kevin. Benny, Rook and Pete are with them but deeply enthralled in a session of COD. Luna and Colson finally finding some time alone.

Sitting quietly by the edge of the pool, their feet playfully comfort one another's in the cool water as they sit shoulder to shoulder. Vance Joy is dreamily floating from Luna's phone as the moon beams down upon them. Sharing a joint, they go over the day's events. From their dry bubblebath to Colson's InPark HomeRun. Luna takes a deep drag off of the joint as the topic of Jackson finally comes up.

"I know why he kissed you, Loons, I'm a fucking dude." He deadpans as he looks over at her. "It was a pathetic last ditch effort to try to get you to change your mind." Colson looks away from Luna as he hesitates. "Which I hate that I get... Because I wouldn't wanna lose you either." He looks back into her eyes during his last sentence while he laces his fingers into her free hand that's resting beside him. Slightly squeezing it tighter along with what follows. "It's fucking disrespectful though. To you, to me... I still don't get why you had to go down there but I know you had good intentions... And it pisses me off because I feel like he takes advantage of that and your history together. And for real, I know it's not a big deal to you but you left him with a glimmer of hope when you kissed him GoodBye." Air quoting her on the last word.

Colson's now gripping her hand with a worrisome look. Luna finds herself in a unique position. Never one to explain herself but at the same time always knowing when to acknowledge that she's wrong, she gives Colson her own weird look. He's right... And, he's right. She has nothing to protest.

"I..." She begins to agree with him as Colson cuts her off, assuming she's about to argue with him as always.

"Aht." He puts his free hand up that's holding the joint hostage. "I told you. I'm a dude. I know what I'm talkin' about. So fucking stop. You wanna kiss someone GoodBye, kiss em on the God Damn cheek. Or Imma start kissen' bitches GoodBye too." He states firmly as he uses his joint laced hand to adamantly make his point.

Still holding onto Luna's hand tightly, he hits the joint finally. Staring out into the darkness just beyond the pool, they sit silently. Both thinking about his honest words. Puffing hard on the joint, he passes it to Luna. They catch eyes as she reaches for it. Like magnets, they're held there by each other's souls. Both of their blue eyes studying the other's. It's not they're normal challenging stare. It's more of a deep, inquisitive look into one another's truth.

"I'll fucking kill you." Luna lightly chuckles with that half grin that he loves as she holds his gaze and hits the joint seductively.

"EXACTLY." Colson retorts with a belly laugh before she lifts the joint to his lips.

Taking a full hit, he pulls Luna in by her jawbone and delicate neck. Kissing her passionately, he balloons her lungs with his smoke before releasing her. Luna's lungs expand beyond belief, taking Colson's WHOLE hit and the kiss he left on her lips. Exhaling, she coughs her head off.

"That's what you get..." He says with a slightly sarcastic tone as he rubs her back.

Luna proceeds to cough for another minute only for it to feel like forever as Colson shoots a couple more small zingers her way. Looking over at him as she's doubled over, losing a lung, Luna gives Colson the DeathStare. This shuts him up, leaving him to rub her back until she can breathe again after another minute or so.

"You're RIGHT." Luna slightly gasps out, Colson had hit her lungs too hard.

"Why... Wait... What??" Colson looks around the backyard in his honest confusion before scrunching his face up at Luna.

"I agree with you." Luna shrugs as she takes his arm and wraps it around herself. Nestling into him, she explains her logic. "He was disrespectful to both of us and our relationship... That's not cool. That's not fair and that's certainly not friendship. I would hope that you DO know that, THAT part of my life is bigger than Jackson..." They're both staring out into the star sprinkled and city line laced abyss as they talk.

"I do..." Colson sighs. "What are you getting at?" Knowing that Luna doesn't give details for no reason.

Sitting up, she turns to him. "I'd like for Opie to be at our Cleveland wedding. Along with his wife, dad and my niece and nephew..."

"I thought you didn't like kids?" Colson teases her under the midnight sky.

"I mean... I don't. Not REALLY." Luna lightly laughs at herself for a moment before thinking about it; she's slightly amazed by how many kids she truly interacts with and loves with her WHOLE heart without even realizing it.

"I'm teasing you, Buttercup." Colson pulls on her by the shoulders as he leans in closer to kiss the side of her head. "I know they're important to you... Invite who you need. Just not FUCKING Jackson. Or Tommy... Actually, you know what? Offer 'em both tickets to EstFest. On me." Colson looks at her smugly as he waits for her reaction to his new idea.

"No. That's not necessary." Luna answers after she hits the joint a few times before passing it back. "I may need to invite his mother though..." Luna looks over at Colson with a worrisome look.

"Who's?" Colson asks with a slight attitude.

"Jackson's mom, Gemma. Out of respect." Before Colson can to begin to argue with her she reminds him of Old Codes to his understanding sigh. "I don't know though because of my Mom-Mom..." Luna trails at the end.

Their joint is long gone. Luna and Colson sit together quietly again, still side by side as they pass a fresh one back and forth. Saying what she needed to, Luna waits for Colson to speak.

"I'll make you a deal..." Colson finally breaks their silence as he passes her the joint. "I'll support whatever you feel is right for our private ceremony... As long as you let me record all of EstFest for a special Kelly Vision. Behind the scenes and all." He offers up his compromise with a cocky smirk.

The idea of recording their EstFest Wedding has been brewing in his head for a minute now. Knowing Luna hates feeling exposed, he had thought of a thousand different ways to convince her to do it. Now, Colson sees his shot free and clear and he's not missing it. In his mind, it also won't hurt his ego to have Jackson's Mommy watch as Luna takes him as Her Only either.

"Like all weekend?" Luna asks with a terrified look as she passes back the bone.

"ALLLL weekend." Colson grins as he takes a satisfied hit, knowing he has her on the hook.

"Fine..." Luna sighs, annoyed by whatever Buttercup shit just came out of his mouth beforehand and the fact that she's pretty sure Gemma won't dare come because of Patti but only mentioned it as a precaution; while simultaneously deciding it's all worth it to prove whatever point or loyalty to Colson that he needs.

"Thanks, Kitten." Colson pulls her closer with his draped arm still around her as he kisses the side of her head again, feeling bad for slightly manipulating her. "You can sit in on editing if you want..." He offers as he passes the shrinking joint.

"I'd fucking hope so." Luna scoffs before hitting it. "Considering you're basically talking about our wedding video."

"Shit... I didn't think about it like that." Colson admits.

"Yeah..." Luna exhales through her hit. "I didn't hire a photographer because it never struck me until now." She answers with her hands out as she yawns.

"No sweat, I'll hit up Wozy... I'm sure he'd love to do it." Colson reassures her with another kiss to the head.

"You ready to go tomorrow?" Luna asks him softly.

"Where? To the DMV or the courthouse?" Colson teases her.

"To the fucking courthouse, you Asshole." She chuckles as she slightly jabs him in the ribs with her elbow.

"Definitely. More than anything." He answers as he pulls her face in with his oversized hand to kiss her. "You?" He asks, letting his hand drop to fully study her as his eyes slightly darken.

"Absolutely." She smiles at him with That One Look, pulling him in now with both of her hands.

Luna kisses Colson passionately as his firm hands roam her body. With their tongues twisting inside their kiss, Colson pops back and grins against her lips. Pressing his lips onto her mouth with force, he breaks away slightly to grin again. This time wider. Rocking her slowly inside his hold as he begins to kiss her again, he picks up his pace. Realizing what he's doing, Luna starts to panic.

"Colson!! Nooo!!" Luna shouts as he throws them both into the pool.

Popping her head up, Luna spits out a mouth full of water at Colson. Making him quickly dunk her again. He pulls her up with his strong arms and plants a solid kiss on her sputtering lips. Still in their clothes, Luna wraps her body around his as they begin to heavily make out. Pulling off their wet clothing, they let the articles carelessly float around the pool as Colson guides her body to the side of the pool. Kissing all over her neck as he slowly pushes himself into her warm pussy. She gasps with a purring shudder as he hits her back wall.

"YOU. ARE FUCKING MINE." Colson's deep voice causes Luna to moan out in pleasure as he tangles his fingers in her wet hair and thrusts deeper inside of her.

The demanding authority in his voice has Luna bucking against him wildly. Pulling on his hair as she bites down on his shoulder and cums easily for him. Sliding safely back Home once more, Colson grips Luna's ribcage tightly.

"Oooooh, FUUUUUCK!!" He growls out as his body shakes and he releases himself inside of Luna while the water flows around their orgasms.

"Still mad?" Luna asks sweetly as she nibbles on his ear.

Not mad but definitely still hard, Colson drives himself further inside of Luna. She gasps again at his length and girth, her body twitches and she lowly purrs as her insides wrap themselves around him.

"This dick your only dick?" He taunts while pleased by her reaction.

"Mhhm..." Luna moans as she kisses him.

Unable to contain her desire for him, Luna starts grinding against Colson's solid dick. Leading them to fuck each other again feverishly in the pool. Sloppy, wet kisses land everywhere before Luna clutches onto Colson's body. Letting him take all that he wants from her. Again and again.

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To be continued...

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