#captain voice Whenever i see someone less fortunate than i. And let’s face it who isn’t less fortunate than i

[zeepilot]

something something umm capsnip wicked au. i don’t know how to elaborate i’ll just beam the concept into your minds and hope you pick up on it

[triptuckers]

Two Homes (part 6/7) - Nikolai Lantsov

Request: no Pairing:  Nikolai Lantsov x reader Summary:  you’re finally back in ketterdam Warnings: language Word count:  3.8K A/N: I literally love the crows so much they’re my comfort idiots <3  PREVIOUS PART | NEXT PART TAG LIST (two homes and/or all grishaverse fics): @godsofwriting @im-constantly-fangirling  @ayushmitadutta @mrs-brekker15 @dancingwith-sunflowers @thegirlwiththeimpala @parker-natasha @story-scribbler @romanoffstarkovs @daliareads @meiitanoia @itsnotquimey @sanktaesperanza @whymyparentscheckmyphone @aleksanderwh0r3 @ilovemarvelanne1 @marlenaisnthappy (if your name is in bold it means I couldn't tag you) add yourself to my tag lists here 

The cold wind on your face feels welcoming. You can smell the salt and there’s water all around you. You’d made the journey across the True Sea before, but it felt like a lifetime go.

Maybe because it was a lifetime ago.

You look down at the golden ring on your finger. It feels heavier than it used to. As if you’re suddenly aware of its presence.

When you first sailed across the sea, you were Y/F/N Y/L/N. A merchant’s daughter who had joined a gang in secret. You had learned how to fight, to steal, and a number of other illegal but useful things. You had earned your place among the Crows, joining them on jobs and secretly stealing small bits of your father’s fortune job by job.

And now you’re on a ship again, as Y/F/N Lantsov. A queen, of all things. Of a country you barely know. Married to a king you met less than a year ago. 

Of course, you hadn’t given the captain of the ship you’re on your real name. You’d used a name Kaz had given you once as an alias for a job. Luckily, the captain didn’t ask much questions.

You look out at the sea again. Would the Crows treat you differently now? You wanted to believe you hadn’t changed. But everything had changed. Your entire life. Still, you loved the Crows like they’re your family, and they loved you back. But you couldn’t help but wonder if they would love Y/F/N Lantsov as they loved Y/F/N Y/L/N.

You’re lost in thought, unaware of the people walking around the ship behind you. It isn’t until you hear a loud voice, you look up. 

Someone is standing at the front of the ship, pointing ahead. He shouted something in a language you didn’t know. When everyone moved to see what he was pointing at, you followed them as well.

After making your way to the front, you see what he was pointing at. In the distance, barely visible on the horizon, you can see land. A city. Your beloved Ketterdam. 

You’re home.

You feel like it takes forever to dock and be able to get off the ship. After pulling your hood over your face to hide your identity, you finally set foot in the city again.

Nothing’s changed. You see people moving swiftly between the people who just got off the ship. As a member of the Dregs, you know they’re pickpocketing. How many hours had you spent on the docks yourself, under Kaz’ watchful eye as he taught you. 

And now, you realise you’re among their targets. You grin as you start to manoeuvre through the crowd. You know the weak and strong points, and where it was most likely to find a gang member. 

Because this part of the docks belonged to the Dregs, you make sure to give them all the signs you have money on you. You keep patting your pocket. To them, it would look like you were merely checking if your money was still there. But you know for a fact your money isn’t in that pocket, and you’re simply luring them to you.

You know how to pick pockets, so you know how it feels. You walk through the crowd, fixated on your coat pocket. When you feel something brush against it, you grab the wrist of the person who walked past you, pulling them back.

The person lets out an annoyed sound and tries to pull their wrist out of your hand, but you hold a firm grip. 

‘You’re still bad a this.’ you say. ‘You should let Jesper do it instead.’

You smile and let go of the wrist. When you look up, you meet Nina’s widened eyes. Your hood is still covering most part of your face, but you know she recognised your voice in an instant.

She opens her mouth to say your name, but you stop her.

‘Not here.’ you say, grabbing her hand and leading her away from the crowd. You’re impressed by her patience. But once you’re away from the crowd and in a deserted alley, she fires questions at you.

‘Y/N, it’s so good to see you!’ says Nina. ‘How are you? How is Ravka? Why did you come back to Ketterdam? Oh, tell me you pissed Zoya off in some way, I would have loved to see the look on her face.’

You chuckle at her rapid questions and hold up your hands. ‘Slow down, Nina, remember to breathe in between questions.’ you say, smiling at her.

‘I’m just so glad to see you.’ says Nina. 

She reaches out to you and pulls you in a tight hug. You hug her back and inhale the scent of her signature perfume. When Nina pulls back she looks at your face and smiles.

‘Bags under your eyes, but still as gorgeous as ever.’ says Nina, winking at you. 

‘Not as gorgeous as you, though.’ you say and Nina laughs.

‘You worked on your flirty comebacks!’ she says.

You smile briefly. ‘That’s what you get when you spend so much time with Nikolai.’ you say.

‘Of course!’ says Nina. ‘How is he? Why isn’t he here?’

‘I chose to come alone.’ you say. ‘I got homesick.’ 

‘Well, I’m glad you’re here, we have a lot to catch up on. Matthias finally took the next step.’ says Nina, smirking.

Your eyes widen. ‘He did what?’ you say. Before you left, you were Nina’s favorite person to talk to about Matthias. Whenever he said or did something, you were the first one to know. Nina told you she was hinting for Matthias to kiss her, but he remained oblivious as ever. Looks like he finally managed to figure out all of her hints.

‘Later!’ says Nina. ‘Let’s get you to the Crow Club first, I don’t want them thinking I’m keeping you all to yourself.’

Nina links her arm through yours and together, you start walking toward the club. You look at the familiar streets and shops, constantly smiling. You were finally back in Ketterdam. You’d missed it so much, it felt good to be back.

While it’s in the middle of the day, the Crow Club is busy. It always is. As you walk to your usual table with Nina, you spot three familiar faces. Inej is the first to see you. 

When she does, she leaps to her feet and runs over to hug you. Her hair tickles your cheek as she hugs you. Like Nina, she immediately starts interrogating you about your time in Ravka. 

After promising her you’d tell her everything, you walk the last bit to the table, where Wylan and Matthias are sitting. 

Wylan smiles brightly at you and stands up to hug you as well. He’s happy to see you as well but unlike Nina and Inej, he doesn’t ask all about Ravka. Instead, he asks you how you’re doing and how your journey was. 

You smile at him and tell him you’re fine, that the journey went well. Sometimes you still wondered why the always energetic Jesper had been able to find his match in Wylan, someone who you’d always considered so calm and quiet.

Matthias holds out his hand for you to shake, before Nina pulls him to his feet and basically pushes him into your arms. You laugh at his bewildered face as you hug Matthias as well.

Meanwhile, Inej had ordered a round of everyone’s favorite drink, and you all sit down. As expected, they all start to ask you all sorts of questions. About Ravka, the palace, the wedding, what it’s like being queen, and of course, Nikolai.

You tell them you refuse to answer their questions until Jesper and Kaz are here, so you can tell them all at once. Wylan had told you they were away on a job. To kill the time, you asked them what had happened in Ketterdam while you were away. 

Apparently, a lot.

‘I got shot.’ says Inej. 

‘Twice.’ says Wylan, taking a sip of his drink and turning back to you. ‘And Jesper almost dropped me off a building.’

‘Come again?’ you say.

‘We were on a roof during a job, Jesper wasn’t paying attention and nearly knocked me off of it.’ says Wylan, not a single hint of fear in his voice. He had changed so much since you first met him. Maybe that’s what Ketterdam does to you, it hardens you, forces you to grow up. 

‘I got in a fight with the Stadwatch.’ says Matthias.

‘And I had to bail you out of a holding cell.’ says Nina.

‘Only because someone knocked me out from behind. It wasn’t a fair fight.’ says Matthias.

Nina turns to you. ‘Heleen wanted for Inej and me to come back to the Menagerie.’ she says.

‘You’re kidding, right?’ you say. ‘You’re telling me she had the fucking guts to ask you that?’

‘Well, it was more like sending one of her new guys to deliver the message. Kaz sent him back with five fingers instead of ten, and without a tongue. I think she got her answer.’ says Nina.

‘Sounds like something Kaz would do.’ you say. ‘What else did I miss?’

‘Jesper almost let Wylan shoot with his guns.’ says Inej.

You raise your eyebrows at Wylan. ‘Jesper allowed you to touch his precious revolvers?’ you say.

‘Almost.’ says Wylan, correcting you. ‘He changed his mind right before handing me one.’

You’re enjoying their company. You laugh and catch up on what’s happening in Ketterdam, buying rounds for the table. Every now and then they ask you something about Ravka, but you still refuse to tell them anything until all of the Crows are present. 

Several drinks and card games later, the club slowly begins to empty. Just as Wylan beats you in a game of card, his eye catches someone behind you and he waves at them.

Before you can turn around, you feel a pair of arms wrap around your shoulders, and a chin on top of your head.

‘There’s only one person who always sits in this spot.’ 

You smile and turn around. Towering over you, and with a huge grin on his face, Jesper is standing behind you. Your expression mirrors his as you stand up. Jesper wraps you in a bone-crushing hug. You close your eyes, grateful for his embrace.

When you let go of him, you smile up at him, then your eyes catch the person who had been standing behind Jesper.

‘Hi Kaz.’ you say.

Kaz nods at you and you’re convinced you can spot the smallest smile on his lips. Barely visible, but still there. 

Wylan pulls two more chairs from the empty table next to yours, and Jesper and Kaz sit down. 

‘So.’ says Jesper as Wylan hands him his drink. ‘What did we miss? How much have you all heard about a certain king?’

‘Nothing.’ says Nina. ‘Y/N didn’t tell us anything. She wanted to wait until you two got here a well.’

Jesper turns to you and winks. ‘Here I am. I’m all ears, darling.’ he says.

You take a breath and finish your drink. ‘Alright.’ you say. ‘What do you want to know?’

Everything, it seemed. They asked you about life at the palace, about your daily routines, if there really was a buffet every day, and if it was as big as the stories described. And they wanted to know all about Nikolai. What he’s like, if he’s a good king, what it was like to be married to him.

You told them life at the palace couldn’t be more different from the life in Ketterdam. You told them about the gardens, the meetings which were boring almost all of the time, the triumvirate. You told them Nikolai is very sweet, handsome, and a great king. 

The rest of the night is spent talking, laughing, playing games and ordering more drinks. You’re exhausted but grateful to be back as you lay down in your old bed. Just before you fall asleep, you realise just how happy you are to be back.

It’s easy to fall back into your old routines when you walk down the stairs to the kitchen. Wylan and Inej are already there, along with a plate of steaming hot pancakes.  

You’re grateful to be back, and eager to accompany them on jobs again. Still hiding your face and true identity. Last time you were in Ketterdam, you worried about your father finding out you were a member of the Dregs. Now you had to hide the fact the queen of Ravka is running along with gang members. Needless to say, you were slightly more nervous about someone recognising you.

But when you joined Jesper, Wylan and Nina on a job later that day, their presence was enough to soothe your nervousness. 

Everything felt right. Though you had been away for almost a year, it was like you never left. The way you knew what to do without them having to tell you was comfortable. Everything was all right. You couldn’t believe you were finally back in Ketterdam.

You had missed life in Ketterdam and your crows very much. And you were thankful to see they didn’t treat you any differently. On your first night back, your life in Ravka had been the number one topic, but now you felt like Y/F/N Y/L/N again.

You joined them on jobs, played card games, chatted with Nina and Inej over drinks. It felt good to be home.

But a little over a week after you arrived in Ketterdam, you start to feel down. You didn’t know why. You’re finally back home, just like you wanted. You should be happy, grateful, not miserable.

You’re sitting at a table by yourself, silently drinking your favorite drink, when suddenly Kaz joins you.

It was unusual for Kaz to join anyone for drinks. Mostly he was upstairs in his office, doing whatever the hell he did up there. Looking for new jobs maybe, or making sure the younger Dregs didn’t do anything stupid.

When he would join you and the others for drinks, it was mostly because you all had begged him to come along. Kaz wasn’t one to join someone for a drink out of nowhere.

Nevertheless, you were happy he decided to join you.

‘How are you liking Ketterdam?’ he asks.

‘It’s good to be home.’ you say, smiling at him. 

You watch as Kaz studies your face. You know there’s something on his mind, and you’re waiting for him to speak up as you nurse your drink. 

‘Something has made you upset.’ says Kaz.

It wasn’t a question, more like a statement. You look at him in silence for a while. You tried lying to Kaz once, and he could tell immediately. You figured it was some sort of hidden talent of his. No one could lie to him and get away with it.

You look at your hands, to avoid his eyes.

‘Why didn’t you come to my wedding?’ you say.

‘We didn’t want to risk it.’ says Kaz. ‘Traveling abroad would have ended in our capture. Besides, I thought you didn’t want to marry king Nikolai.’

‘I didn’t.’ you say. ‘Not at first. But once I got to know him, well, it all changed. He’s actually a really great guy.’

You finally look up at Kaz. You finish your drink and signal to the bartender for another one. Again, Kaz is studying your face. You wish he’d look away, you always felt like he could see right through you.

‘There’s something else.’ he says.

You frown. ‘No.’ you say, truthfully. There was nothing else to mention. 

‘Come on, spit it out.’ he says.

‘There’s nothing to spit out?’ you say, confused.

‘You’re not yourself. Not like I remember, at least. You said you’d be happier once you got back to Ketterdam. Well, you’re here now. You were happy last week, when you arrived. I have yet to see you genuinely smile, aside from the night you got back.’ says Kaz. 

Why did he always have to be right? It was starting to get annoying. Kaz would tell you the truth, even if you didn’t want to hear it.

‘I thought I’d be happy to be home.’ you admit softly, avoiding his eyes again. ‘I’m not. And I don’t know why. I’m finally home, like I wanted, but it doesn’t feel like it.’

‘Y/N, look at me.’ says Kaz. 

You keep looking at the table. The bartender sets down your new drink in front of you and you briefly look up at them to thank them. Still, you don’t look at Kaz. As you reach to grab your drink, Kaz’ cane lands on the table hard. Shocked and a bit offended, you look up at him.

‘Listen to me.’ says Kaz. ‘You can have two homes, Y/N. You came back to Ketterdam because you miss us. But you haven’t taken your ring off. Despite leaving the palace, yous till use Lantsov as your last name, aside from when you had to travel across the True Sea. Go back to the palace. Tell that king of yours that you love him. And come visit us during the summer.’

You look at Kaz, letting his words sink in. Two homes. Os Alta and Ketterdam. It could work. You’d spend your days with Nikolai, and spend the summer in Ketterdam. 

Suddenly, you think back to your goodbye with Nikolai before you had left for Ketterdam. It wasn’t a proper goodbye, because you couldn’t wait to go to Ketterdam. He deserved more. 

Maybe Kaz is right. Maybe you could have two homes. 

Kaz had been looking at you as you went over it all in your head.

‘Two homes.’ you mutter softly. 

You quickly finish your drink and get up. ‘I have to go.’ you say. 

Despite it being late at night, you head up the stairs of the Slat and to knock on everyone’s door. You knew they’d be alarmed if you wake them, because there was an unwritten rule that you didn’t wake someone up in the middle of the night, unless something very bad was going on.

When you knock on Jesper’s door, Wylan is the one who opens it. There’s still light in the room and there’s a pencil in his hand. He must have been working on some sketches for a new project. When you glance over his shoulder you see Jesper sprawled out on the bad, fast asleep.

‘Is everything alright?’ says Wylan. 

‘Yes, it’s fine, I just came to say goodbye.’ you say.

Wylan frowns, then smiles. ‘You’re going back to Ravka.’ he says.

You nod. ‘I need to see Nikolai.’ you say. ‘Can I say goodbye to Jesper real quick?’

Wylan steps aside so you can enter the room. You walk over to the bed, kneel beside it and shake Jesper’s shoulders. He wakes with a string of words you can’t quite understand. 

‘Jes.’ you say softly. ‘It’s me, Y/N, I'm here to say goodbye. I’m going back to Ravka.’

He mumbles a “good for you, have fun” before falling back asleep. 

You smile at move to rise to your feet again. You hug Wylan and after another goodbye, you leave their room, walking the stairs to the next floor. 

Inej walks out of her room, holding a bunch of dirty dishes in her hands. She must have been on her way downstairs to put them away.

‘Hey.’ she says. ‘What are you still doing up?’

‘Saying goodbye.’ you say. ‘I’m going back to the palace.’ 

Like Wylan, Inej smiles. ‘Tell the king I said hi.’ she says.

‘I will.’ you say. ‘Goodbye Inej, I’ll be back for a visit soon.’

You walk to the next floor and knock on Nina’s door. It takes her a while to open the door, but you knew she would. When she does open the door, her hair is messy, she was clearly fast asleep just like Jesper.

‘What happened?’ says Nina, voice thick of sleepiness. ‘Who’s in trouble?’

‘No one’s in trouble.’ you say. ‘I’m here to say goodbye. I’m going back to Nikolai.’

‘You’re leaving again?’ says Nina. ‘But you just got here.’ 

‘I’ll be back for a visit in summer.’ you say. ‘In fact, I’m going to visit every summer. But right now I need to go back.’

‘To Nikolai.’ says Nina.

‘Yes.’ you say. 

‘Give him a kiss from me.’ she says.

‘Nina!’ you say, making her laugh.

‘I’m kidding!’ she says. ‘How about give him a hug from me?’ 

You nod and Nina pulls you in her arms. You close your eyes, trying to capture the moment. You were going to miss them. But you’d be back in summer. When Nina lets go of you, she smiles brightly. 

‘Wait here, you can say goodbye to Matthias too.’ she says. 

She enters the room and seconds later she reappears, with Matthias behind her. Just like Nina, he looks like he just woke up. He’s squinting his eyes as he looks down at you.

‘You’re leaving?’ he says.

‘For a while.’ you say. ‘I’ll be back in summer.’

‘Alright.’ says Matthias. 

Unlike the night when you arrived in Ketterdam, Nina doesn’t have to shove him into your arms. Matthias steps forward and pulls you in for a hug. 

‘Take care.’ he says as he pulls away.

Nina moves past Matthias and pulls you in for another hug.

‘That first one was for Nikolai, this one’s for you.’ she whispers. 

You blink furiously to stop the tears from falling. Saints, you really were going to miss them. But there was no need for tears, you’d see them again in summer. You smile at her as she pulls away.

‘I’m going to miss you.’ you say. ‘All of you.’

‘You’ll see us again.’ says Nina. ‘Now go! You’ve kept him waiting for long enough.’

You walk down the stairs, and grab your coat when you get to the bottom of the stairs. You poke your head around the door and see Kaz is still sitting in the same spot. 

‘Bye, Kaz!’ you say and you wave at him. 

He nods at you and briefly smiles. And then you’re out the door.

You don’t even know if there would be a ship at the docks that would sail to Ravka. But you’re still determined to head to Ravka as fast as you could. You walk down the streets toward the docks. 

You were going back to Ravka, to your king.

A/N: If you want to request something, make sure to read my house rules Here’s the list of characters I write for. Everything that I have written can be found on my masterlist. Please don’t repost my work, as I spend much time and effort on it!! Thank you for reading! Much love, Marit

[tangtownie]

You Should See Me In A Crown - Natasha Romanoff x Dark!Reader Insert (AU)

Author’s Note: So, this is my first time trying to write something dark…

Think it might land in the category of soft!dark, but be warned none the less!

Super nervous about posting this, but I actually ended up really liking this one myself, so hopefully others will as well.

Reader is from the Red Room Academy, just as Natasha, only reader never left them. I took some creative liberties when describing the Red Room Academy, so that it fit my idea better, which is also why this story is marked as an AU.

The Russian nickname for Natasha means ‘darling’, ‘pet’ or ‘beloved’.

I incorporated some lyrics from the song, tell me how many you can find? 🧐

Regarding the timeline, I imagine this would take place after Natasha brought down SHIELD and shortly after Bucky joined the Avengers.

Also, shoutout to @a-little-counter-esperanto for being kind enough to beta this for me and offer some moral support! 🥰

Once again, this is marked dark for a reason! There might be topics that are triggering to certain people, so please be responsible about your media consumption.

Warnings: Explicit descriptions of violence and murder, dark!Reader, messed up “family” relations, weird/sexual obsession with a sister figure.

Word count: 2.252

Song Inspiration: You Should See Me In A Crown by Billie Eilish

I was perfectly concealed, blending in with all the mindless idiots making their way down the street. If this hadn’t been New York, and people actually paid attention to what happened around them, they might have noticed the warning sign that was the concealed weapons on my body. Or my too heavy boots beating down against the concrete. Carefully eyeing the tower, I counted the people moving in and out of the building. “Bite my tongue, bide my time.” I mumbled quietly, catching the attention of a passerby. We had in fact been biding our time, monitoring the tower for months, counting the number of armed guards on site at any given time. However, it seemed that these soft Americans had their most precious protectors under lock and key at all times. Biting my tongue, I tried not to scoff. One would assume that the Avengers were more than capable of handling themselves, but apparently their employer did not.

Not that it mattered, the more people in the tower, the more people there were for my sisters to play with. My sisters who were all watching me, waiting for my signal. Finally, we had found our missing piece and none of us were leaving here without her. I had been searching for her for years, using the Academy’s missions to get intel on my long lost sister. In time, Mother had found out and I had been forced to deal with that. Fortunately, it was nothing a little thallium poisoning couldn’t handle for me. One less complication and Mother would never get between us again. No one would. Catching the rays of the sun on the edge of my watch, I slowly rolled my wrist, the light reflecting up on a window in a perfect circle. “Wearing a warning sign.” I didn’t know where my sisters were located, but I knew they had all seen my signal. I moved swiftly through the masses, discarding my disguise along the way, and quickly found myself standing in front of the tower.

The first window shattered, as I opened the door, a flurry of bullets following the first one. Civilians were screaming: scrambling to get away, guards were rushing in from all sides: barking commands rushing through their radios and glass continued flying through the air as my sisters blew the lobby to pieces. A few stray pieces of glass tangled in my hair, light reflecting off of them as I moved gracefully through the chaotic scene, while the bloodcurdling screams piercing the air sounded almost like a symphony. Humming quietly to myself, I pulled my gun from the holster on my hip and aimed carelessly before shooting a guard in the face.

The bullet lodged in his eye and he fell to his knees, screaming. His body spasmed out of his control and with a final gurgling scream, he fell limply to the floor. “I love the way they scream.” I really didn’t need to kill him to swipe his ID, but alas why should my sisters have all the fun? After all, I was the one running this mission. The glass crunched underneath my boots and blood splattered all over me whenever my sisters killed the ones that got too close to me.

Making it to the elevator was easy: the guards and civilians continuously dropping all around me. Once inside of the elevator, I pressed R for residential. Wiping some blood from my cheek, I caught a whiff of gunpowder on my dark glove and I inhaled again, greedily, as pure joy filtered through my system. Raising my head to look at my reflection, I was met with a dazzling vision wrapped in all black. I could see the bumps from my arsenal of knives and guns strapped to my thighs, hips and arms. My hair was tied back tightly, the glass shards framing my head like a crown, and blood smeared across my face. “You are so pretty.”

The elevator dinged as it reached the residential floor. Unlike the others, this was ominously silent. By now the precious protectors would now that I had come looking for them. Or rather her. I had come for her and I would die before leaving without her. “Natalia?” I called out for her teasingly. “I know you’re here, любимый." I was met only with silence. Humming quietly to myself again, I fished a knife out of my holster and jammed it into the keypad of the elevator. The keypad sputtered and sparked before I pulled the knife back out, leaving it hanging down the side of the wall.

Flipping the knife carelessly, I scraped it against the wall, as I started moving down the hallway. “Our sisters are so looking forward to seeing you again, sweet Natalia.” I was almost reunited with her and joy filled my voice as well as my body. A flash of movement caught my eye and I turned just in time to see someone charging at me. A quick sidestep and he flew past me. He was tall, broad and dark. Every inch of him wrapped in black leather. His gaze was burning with fury, when he turned to look at me.

“Soldat,” I cocked my head in recognition, a smirk curling around my lips. “I see you’ve betrayed the cause as well.” The burly soldier snarled at me in response and a bubbling laughter rose from my throat. “Poor little Soldat, still have the manners of a raging beast, I see.” The deranged soldier lunged at me again, and it took all of my power to block his fist. The metallic whirring getting louder and louder the more weight he put into it. Grunting with effort, I could feel his arm slipping through mine and his fist met my face with full force. My entire body was slammed backwards into the wall and it felt as though my brain was vibrating from the hit. For a second everything went dark, but the taunting scoff from Soldat ripped me back to reality instantaneously.

Pushing myself from the wall, I growled back at him. To think that my dear sister had been trapped here with these abominations of nature for so long… But no matter, we were here for her now and we would take her away. I simply needed to put down this caged animal in front of me, and we could be on our way. “Watch me make ‘em bow.” Anger flashed in the eyes of the beast as I spoke and he charged again: his metal hand shooting out and wrapping around my throat. His eyes burning while he tightened his grip until all that could escape me were choked off gasps.

I fumbled for the needle in my pocket. I knew it contained just enough sedative to take down a deranged super soldier and while I had anticipated using it on a certain overeager Captain, this seemed like an appropriate use. When I finally grasped the needle, I plunged it into the side of Soldat’s neck. The drug took effect immediately: the beast’s eyes drooping and his ironclad grip on my throat loosening. As my feet touched the floor again, his hand slipped from my throat and he landed with a loud thump. I wasn’t certain how long it would keep him down, so for good measure I grasped one of my knifes and plunged it into him: his stomach, chest and shoulder before I sliced along the inside of his arm.

Loosing my patience, I started down the hallway again. I had to find her and save her. How could Mother ever have thought that Natalia was safe here? Kicking down every door I met, I eventually found her room. The soft scent of jasmine and lemongrass wafted over me and I couldn’t resist the temptation to go in. “You smell so sweet.” My fingers softly grazed over her walls as I moved inside and let the smell of my dear sister take over my senses. Her room was warm and inviting with throw blankets and pillows everywhere and I knew that I had been right. This—she—was exactly what our sisters needed, a comforting and warm presence.

Natalia’s bedroom was immaculate as always, not a single item out of place. Stopping at her dresser, I needed to feel close to her. I tore open a drawer and pulled out a sweater. The material was much softer and smoother than anything I owned and I burrowed my face in it, so that I could really smell her. A sense of calm washed over me and I let myself fall backwards onto her bed, so that I could be surrounded by her scent. My sweet Natalia, how I had missed her. “I fell for those ocean eyes.”

There was nothing I hadn’t missed about her: her eyes that would sparkle like the stars on a bright and cold night. Her deep, soothing drawl. Her soft and luscious hair that I could almost feel running through my fingers. All of it making up the resilient, courageous and ruthless warrior that I had loved for as long as I could remember. My sweet, dear sister. We would be together again soon and then nothing could tear us apart ever again. A sudden sound snapped me back to attention and I quickly got off the bed, hiding beside the doorframe to her bedroom. The steps were careful and calculated, yet soft. A smiled curved over my lips as I recognized them.

“Natalia, любимый, I’ve been looking for you.” Her steps froze at the sound of my voice. I slowly emerged from my hiding spot with the smile still on my lips. Natalia had never looked quite as beautiful as she did with her gun pointed at me. “Oh, любимый, I’m not here to hurt you.” Natalia’s stance wavered just a little and I was elated to see her giving in to me. “I’m here to help you escape, sweet sister.” Confusion washed over Natalia’s face and I smirked as I was reminded that she had always been one of our more simple-minded sisters.

“Mother fell ill.” I explained it simply to her. My darling, simple sister did not need to know all the gory details of what I’d done to find her. “And some of our weaker sisters were flailing without a strong leader, so… I stepped in.” An emotion I didn’t quite recognize flashed over Natalia’s face and she lowered her gun a little. “But as you know, любимый, I’m not exactly a nurturing person and while I see no use of such foolish sentimentality, some of our sisters have requested that you re-join us.” I watched her closely, as I finished my sentence. “We are going to run that place together. That, and any other place you want, my sweet love.” Anger flashed in Natalia’s eyes and her gun was back in my face instantaneously.

I didn’t let her reaction deter me, though. I loved her and I knew that she loved me too. I gently placed my hand on her cheek and dragged her closer to me. “I cannot do this without you, sister. I cannot live with you… Do you have any idea how long I’ve been searching for you?” I placed my other hand on top of her gun and pushed it down until it was pointed at my chest. “If you won’t let me help you, then you’ll have to kill me, любимый.” Natalia’s eyes widened and jumped back and forth, from my face down to my chest. “Tell me, sweet sister. Which do you imagine is worse? Living without you or dying first?” I gently brought my hand up to her other cheek and pulled her closer to me, until our foreheads were resting on one another.

“любимый, my love, don’t resist me.” I whispered the last words before crashing my lips onto hers. The feel of her soft, full lips against mine was even better than I had dreamt. I gasped ecstatically into her mouth and let my hands slide into her hair. I tightened my grip on her hair, when she tried to pull away. She could breathe when I let her. Until then, I would kiss her as long as I pleased. A tear slid down her cheek and I understood. She had finally accepted that we were supposed to be together and that we would rule alongside each other. “You will be the most perfect Mother, любимый.” I whispered against her lips.

Suddenly, a burning feeling spread through my chest and I could hardly breathe. “любимый, do you feel it, too?” I gasped. “We are finally becoming one.” Each syllable hurt more than the last and I barely registered Natalia’s gun clattering to the floor. Something warm ran down my chest and my legs almost collapsed under me. I clung to Natalia and she fell to the floor with me. She wrapped her arms around me and I was in heaven. “You are so beautiful, sweet Natalia.” Even as my vision blurred and I could feel the pull of a deep, dark sleep, I could not pry my eyes away from her. “Sister, I feel so tired…” My voice was cracking from all the effort it took me to speak, but she was here. My true love, my dear sister. I had finally found her again. “Sleep, sister. Everything will be alright.” My sweet Natalia’s voice was the last thing I heard before the darkness took me.

Okay, so Tumblr was acting all crazy when I was making this post, so hopefully, it'll work! 😬

Also, as always, would love feedback in any form! Comment, reblog, messages! It doesn't matter. ❤️

[carewyncromwell]

“We were dreamers not so long ago, But one by one, we all had to grow up. When it seems the magic’s slipped away, We find it all again on Christmas Day...”

~“Believe,” by Josh Groban

x~x~x~x

The Ravenclaw VS Hufflepuff match was one for the ages. With a final score of 320-10, it was one of the most decisive matches in Hogwarts history, let alone one of Ravenclaw house’s greatest triumphs -- and all of it was because of the combined efforts of Seeker Cho Chang and Ravenclaw’s Chasers, led by their Star Player Robert Bellamy. It put Ravenclaw well on its way to winning the Quidditch Cup for a second time, and it also made Robert once again the talk of Ravenclaw house. People latched onto the idea of him using echolocation to signal to his fellow Chasers where he was on the pitch and began to say he could fly faster than any bat, whether a real one or one from Ballycastle. 

And yet, despite all of the praise and fawning he received, just as Cecelia said, Robert shrugged all of it off. 

“All of us train more than just our eyes,” he said with a shrug. “And besides, signaling would’ve meant nothing if Roger and Randolph hadn’t been good enough Chasers to toss the Quaffle to me blindly -- and if Roger hadn’t been a good enough Captain to lead our team, to begin with. Not to mention Cho catching the Snitch in the middle of that fog -- that’s infinitely harder than anything we did...”

Atticus @cursebreakerfarrier​​​​ couldn’t quite understand how Robert could be so determined not to accept praise for his abilities when it was so clearly warranted...but even so, he found himself smiling every time he heard him respond with such modesty. For as flippant, rebellious, and devil-may-care as Robert was, he wasn’t full of himself. It was a rather endearing quality. 

When December arrived, the student body got into a predictable tizzy about the upcoming holidays. Atticus, as always, found himself grumpier than usual due to the noise. He’d never really liked Christmas even as a kid, and at Hogwarts the season only served to make him more surly. Atticus recalled, however, that Robert was one of those people who got obnoxious around Christmas -- it had always irritated him before, whenever Robert would sing Christmas carols loudly at the top of his lungs while helping decorate the Ravenclaw common room. And this year was no exception. The Star Chaser helped smuggle a tree up to Ravenclaw Tower, hung garlands and clusters of holly all over the Ravenclaw commonroom, and greeted and said goodbye to absolutely everybody with “Happy Christmas,” and on the morning of December 8th, the very day he no longer had to dress all neatly like Atticus, he pulled out his old red-felt Santa hat and wore it every single day for the rest of term.

Atticus was frankly done, and the holiday break hadn’t even started yet. 

“Aw, come on, Lestrange!” said Robert one day after Potions, giving the other boy a light punch to the shoulder. “Lighten up -- it’s Christmas!”

“So you keep reminding me,” Atticus said dully. He tried to bury his nose in his copy of Moste Potente Potions, but Robert wouldn’t drop the line of conversation. 

“Well, I wouldn’t keep reminding you if you cheered up a little,” he said with a grin. “Do you always have to be such a Scrooge around this time of year?”

“Do you always have to be so happy about it?” Atticus shot back. “...What’s a ‘Scrooge’ anyway?”

“A character from A Christmas Carol,” Ceci explained with a small, amused smile. “It’s a Muggle book -- it’s a lovely one too: you’d like it, Atticus...”

“Better have Rob read it aloud for you, though,” said Barty with a big grin. “No one reads it like Rob.”

“A Christmas Carol is a masterpiece of literature -- all I do is treat it accordingly,” Robert said offhandedly. He shot Atticus a wry smile over his shoulder. “Though I suppose if it’d help you actually get to sleep at a reasonable hour for once, I could always read it to you as a bedtime story, Lestrange -- ”

“No thank you,” Atticus cut him off crisply. 

Her face appearing rather sympathetic, Ceci lightly bumped her arm against Atticus’s as they walked.

“Are you staying here for the holidays again, Atticus?”

Atticus nodded. “The library’s always nice and quiet, over break. It’s a good time to get some extra work done...”

Robert’s light-hearted expression faded -- something almost guilty passed over his face. 

“...Mm...”

His black eyes drifted away, off toward the far wall. Barty offered both his best friend and Atticus a smile. 

“Well, uh...maybe we can do some work over break together, then, Atticus,” Barty offered.

Atticus stiffened like a startled cat. “Huh?”

“My parents are taking a trip to visit my aunt and cousins in Normandy,” Barty explained sheepishly, “so I was thinking of staying at Hogwarts over break too! Don’t reckon much of anyone else in our year will be, so maybe we can hang out a bit over break, if you’d like...”

Atticus truly couldn’t think of anything he’d want to do less. Knowing it’d be incredibly rude to say so, however, he forced an uncomfortable smile. Ceci, however, jumped on it.

“That’s perfect!” she said. “Maybe you and Atticus can do some extra research, Barty.”

Atticus blinked in confusion. “Research?”

“About our dreams,” said Ceci eagerly.

Barty nodded. “One thing all of our visions have in common is that we all look older, right? You said that the guy in your dreams kind of looks like me, but older -- and Ceci, Rob, and I all see each other looking older too. But when we looked into Divination, all we really got was a lot of vague preaching -- ”

“You mean utter rubbish,” Robert inserted with a smirk. 

“So Robert was thinking,” Barty pressed on, “if this is some kind of future sight we’re having, maybe we can find out what’s causing it by studying Time-centric magic.”

“And what better person to help us with researching something in the library than Atticus Lestrange?” Ceci said with satisfaction, taking both of Atticus’s shoulders from behind and giving them a light squeeze.

Atticus, however, didn’t look so sure. “Well, thank you, but...I’ve already read every book in the library about Time Turners -- and I don’t think there’s anything in there that might explain what’s going on...”

“Every book?” prompted Ceci, raising an eyebrow. 

“Yes,” said Atticus. “Well, except for the Restricted Section, but...”

He trailed off, noticing the wicked look that Ceci and Robert exchanged before they both glanced at Barty.

“Except for the Restricted Section,” repeated Robert, his lips spread in a broad white smirk.

Barty grinned -- his expression was perfectly angelic compared to his cohorts, and yet it was determined.

“Atticus,” he said in a very soft, but perfectly fearless voice, “mind if I join you on your evening Prefect rounds, over break?”

And that was how Atticus Lestrange got roped into sneaking into the Restricted Section of the Library after dark on Christmas Eve with Barty Gilbert. 

Atticus had been very wary when he lingered in the hall outside Ravenclaw Tower as planned, waiting for Barty. He knew his father most assuredly wouldn’t approve of this, and even despite that, he dreaded the thought of willingly spending time with his school rival. It didn’t matter how pleasantly the Gryffindor acted around him, or even how fond Atticus was becoming of his best friend -- Atticus didn’t like Barty, and that was that. And he absolutely hated the thought of getting into trouble just because he was roped into working with him. 

Unfortunately Atticus was so uptight and stiff while waiting around that he nearly had a heart attack when Barty’s disembodied voice whispered in his ear. 

“Sorry!” Barty whispered quickly. “I’m sorry -- I was really trying not to sneak up on you, but Filch is around that next corner...ack! Here he comes!”

He threw some sort of translucent cloth over Atticus’s head, prompting the other boy to crouch down so it covered both of them. 

The crabby Hogwarts caretaker, Argus Filch, rounded the corner, raising his lantern and looking around. His beady eyes glided over where Atticus and Barty were standing, narrowing suspiciously, before he trudged away.

“Andskotans djöful,” Atticus swore under his breath. 

He was clutching at his chest and breathing very heavily as he turned to gawk at Barty over his shoulder. 

“You have an Invisibility Cloak?”

Barty grinned sheepishly. “My parents own several robe shops. I figured one of their stock going missing wouldn’t be the absolute end of the world...”

He adjusted somewhat so that the fabric wouldn’t drag on the floor.

“Come on -- let’s get to the library.”

Fortunately the two managed to get into the Restricted Section without incident. Once they were positive no one was in the Library to catch them, Barty stood watch under his Cloak by the door, his wand over his chest, while Atticus combed through the shelves of books, his own wand lit and held aloft so he could scan the titles. The two didn’t talk much -- the discomfort congealed between them as Atticus tried to keep his eyes on what he was doing. 

“Anything promising?” asked Barty.

“Not yet,” said Atticus shortly. 

Silence returned. After another moment, Barty spoke again.

“Atticus...may I ask you something?”

“What?”

“In your dreams...do you see bad things happening?”

Atticus paused. Then he slid another book from the shelf and opened it, flipping through the pages. 

“Not really. I don’t see much of anything, I think -- at least, not that I can remember. It’s...feelings, mostly.”

“Feelings like you know something’s wrong? Like, even if you can’t see what happened, you feel so much pain and sorrow that you know it’s bad?”

“Sometimes.”

Barty nodded, turning his focus back out into the blackness of the Library. 

“As far back as I can remember,” he said very softly, “I’ve had this dream where I was trying to reach someone. I couldn’t ever see their face clearly, but I just knew, somehow, that the person was in trouble, and that I had to help them. But no matter how fast I tried to run to try to get to that person...my vision would black out and I’d feel like I was frozen still, unable to move at all.”

He bowed his head, his eyes cast into shadow. 

“...I would wake up screaming and crying at night, when I was little...all because I couldn’t reach that person in time. Because I knew that, because I didn’t move fast enough...that person was dead.”

Atticus’s hand had stilled on the book he was flipping through. His eyes were wide upon the page, but clearly weren’t taking in any of the words printed there. The memory of his own mother trying to comfort him after he woke up crying about a pair of red eyes and warm arms rippled over his mind. 

“When I got to Hogwarts,” Barty said lowly, “my dreams became a little clearer. I still didn’t know where I was or what I was doing...but this person who I’d been running to try to save, my whole life, suddenly had a face. A man with black eyes and curly hair...just like my best friend.”

He looked up at Atticus, his face incredibly serious. 

“I don’t know why you’ve seen someone like me in your dreams, Atticus,” said Barty, “and I know you don’t like me...but I could really use your help, in getting to the bottom of all this. Robert is my best friend in the whole world. He’s the first person who became my friend solely because of who I am, rather than who my family is. If I lost him...if anything bad happened to him...”

A dark, miserable shadow passed over his face. 

“...I don’t know what I’d do,” he whispered.

Atticus looked up at last. His blue eyes were rather uncertain. 

“What about Cecelia?” he asked. “Didn’t she become your friend for who you are?”

Barty’s eyes softened as his face flushed lightly. 

“...Ceci means everything to me. We’ve known each other forever. But her family only engaged with mine because we had money...and my parents only let us play together because her parents would bring her over. Our parents encouraged her to play with me because my parents reckoned she’d be a ‘good influence’ on me...might help me come out of my shell some...”

“Well, I suppose they were right,” muttered Atticus. “Now you’re the hot-shot Dueling Champion and Dragon Tamer...Hogwarts’s Golden Boy...”

The last words came out before he could stop himself and he immediately looked away, his insides prickling with discomfort. 

Barty, amazingly, only smiled weakly.

“It’s easy to be brave when you know you’re doing the right thing,” he said, “when you’re standing up for somebody or trying to calm an animal that doesn’t know any better. When you’re fighting, or protecting, there isn’t any thought -- you just do. Because it’s the right thing to do.”

He looked down again, his shoulders falling slightly.

“...But when you’re around people...trying to figure out just what to say, to tell people what you mean...or even just how much to say, when you know not everyone means you well...well, that’s not so easy. You feel like the whole world is watching you, and judging you, no matter what you say...even if you say nothing at all. But at least when you’re quiet...people can kind of just see what they want to see...”

Atticus frowned. Barty had always been rather soft-spoken compared to witty, sassy Robert and sociable, amiable Ceci, but he’d never really taken the time to conclude that Barty was actually shy. 

“I’ve always envied Robert that way,” admitted Barty, offering Atticus a small smile. “He’s never at a loss of what to say. When you and he go at it, bantering like you do...I can tell you like each other, but there’s just such a charge there -- like the eclectic lamps Professor Burbage has in her Muggle Studies class!” He beamed a bit more broadly. “It’s so cool.”

Atticus stared at Barty for a moment, unsure of what to say. Then, after a moment, he looked back down at the book in his hands.

“...Thanks,” he said at last. He could feel his ears burning again.

Barty, however, only smiled, his blue eyes very understanding and patient as he returned his focus to the dark Library again. 

Atticus glanced up at Barty without raising his head, considering him for a moment. Then, with a swallow, he spoke again.

“...I...used to wake up crying too. When I was little.”

Barty looked up, taken aback.

“I used to dream about this person with red eyes,” said Atticus. “He’d be squeezing my shoulders -- almost as if he was afraid to touch me at first, but then gently, purposefully. Then, as he held my shoulders, he would start to laugh...but even though he was laughing, I would hear the sobs. I could tell he was crying...crying in grief and joy and something else altogether...but so much pain. A kind of pain I don’t think I could ever know...”

Just remembering the heartbreaking sound made Atticus’s throat clench and his eyes well up with traces of tears. He wiped them quickly from his eyes with one hand. 

“My mother used to comfort me, telling me that it was just a dream, that nothing in it could hurt me,” he said lowly. “But she never needed to say that -- I knew he wouldn’t hurt me. He was the one hurting.”

He swallowed. The lump in his throat was painful. 

“...I didn’t have the dream as much, as I got older -- just time to time, around some of the other weird ones. Maybe I just don’t sleep long enough stretches to dream as much anymore,” he added as an afterthought. “But when Bellamy and I got paired for Binns’s oral report...well, that feeling came back, out of nowhere...and again, when you, Ceci, and I were watching the match against Hufflepuff.”

Atticus forced himself to meet Barty’s eyes at last.

“I don’t understand this whole thing at all...but I want to know why I’m feeling these things, and I want to know why you, Ceci, and Bellamy see what you’re seeing, too. If that’s what you want too...well, then it’s only practical that we work together.”

He offered a weak smile of his own. Barty was definitely taken aback, but within seconds, his face had lit up with a warmer, more determined smile and he nodded.

“Mm-hmm.”

From that day on, Barty Gilbert and Atticus Lestrange had made peace. 

Unfortunately their night in the Library proved fruitless, research-wise. Not even Dark or restricted magic could explain the kinds of bizarre, fragmented visions the four students were experiencing. And so Atticus returned to his dorm that night feeling very disheartened. He was less so, however, when he awoke out of a restless doze in the Ravenclaw armchair Christmas morning to the feeling of someone holding his shoulder and lightly shaking it.

“Atticus. Atticus.”

Atticus blinked sleepily up at who’d woken him, to see a familiar, shyly smiling face framed by auburn hair.

“Happy Christmas,” Barty greeted gently.

Atticus shook his head rapidly, trying to orient himself. 

“W-what? Gilbert, what -- what are you doing in -- ?”

Just behind Barty, Atticus could see both Ceci and Robert grinning from ear to ear. 

“Surprise!” said Ceci brightly. 

“Happy Christmas, Lestrange,” said Robert, his black eyes dancing with mischief.

Atticus looked around at all three of them, perfectly bewildered. “But -- but you -- you two went home for Christmas -- how did -- ?”

“Rob and I took the Floo back!” Ceci explained. 

“It was Rob’s idea,” said Barty. “I thought I’d keep the whole thing quiet, until they got here.”

“I couldn’t change my plans and stay for my whole break, since I have to be at home for Christmas Eve church service,” said Robert, rubbing the back of his neck uncomfortably, “but well, the thought of you being stuck here all alone...”

His eyes drifted up to the ceiling. 

“‘The school is not quite deserted,’ said the Ghost,” he recited from memory, “‘A solitary child, neglected by his friends, is left there still.’”

He returned his gaze to Atticus seriously. 

“A Christmas Carol,” he added as explanation. “It’s part of why Scrooge ends up hating Christmas so much -- he wasn’t allowed to go home for the holidays to see his family, so instead he stayed at school all alone, with nothing but his books for company. I know this whole season isn’t your thing and all, but...it just seemed rotten, to leave you and Barty alone.” 

Barty beamed at Atticus. Atticus, on the other hand, was too overwhelmed to respond. He felt like his throat had gone very dry, all of the moisture instead moving up toward his eyes. 

Robert and Ceci had put their holidays with their families on hold for him. Yes, Robert said it was for him and Barty, but he’d been thinking of Atticus and how lonely he’d be. No one had ever done anything quite so kind for him before, and it made Atticus feel like his heart was flooding. 

“...You...” he murmured, “...but...why?”

Ceci laughed. “Why do you think? You’re our friend, Atticus! We wanted to spend Christmas with you!”

Atticus’s heart swelled. 

Friend. He was their friend?

He looked from Ceci to Barty to Robert -- his black-haired dormmate smiled, his black eyes sparkling as he nodded in agreement. 

The tears that had been prickling at the sides of Atticus’s eyes actually leaked through, escaping down his cheeks, as he smiled back. He quickly wiped them away, his smile gleaming as he looked up at the three of them.

“...Thank you,” he said at last breathily. “I...I don’t know what to say...”

Ceci brought her arms around Atticus in a sideways hug. “Then don’t say anything! We have presents to unwrap! Come on, come on -- Barty, Rob and I put ours under the tree before we woke you...”

Atticus felt a bit guilty that he hadn’t thought to buy any presents for Robert, Barty, and Cecelia, but he honestly hadn’t expected that they’d want to get him anything. But sure enough, all three of them gave marvelous presents -- Barty gave Atticus a book on Dark creatures; Ceci gave him his own leather-bound copy of A Christmas Carol; and Robert gave him a beautiful bookmark carved out of wood into the shape of a Phoenix and painted brilliant shades of red and orange. The card enclosed said,

Ceci helped me paint this for you. Hope this little turkey can keep you company in the Library. 

Happy Christmas!

Robert

Atticus was amazed when he learned that Robert had actually carved the bookmark himself by hand. Apparently Robert had used some of the leftover wood from the trunk of the tree he’d smuggled into Ravenclaw Tower to make Atticus’s bookmark -- he’d also used some of the branches he’d had to trim off to make Barty a carved picture frame and Ceci a pretty wooden heart pendant she could wear as a necklace. They were all a little rough around the edges, but the effort showed through, and it warmed Atticus’s heart to think of the amount of work Robert must’ve put in to make his presents. 

The whole day put Atticus in such a good mood that he even encouraged Robert to read aloud from his new leather-bound copy of A Christmas Carol, so he could hear it. The request made Robert’s dark eyes light up more brightly than Atticus had ever seen them before...and indeed, when Robert finished reading the beautifully written, emotional novel with such warm sincerity and articulated poetry that evening, Atticus had to admit -- it was a very, very good book. 

[anakin-danvers]

to wish upon a star

Rex x gender neutral!reader

Request: “For a fic, from prompt list #2, "Look! A shooting star! Make a wish," with any character you want to write from the Star Wars prequel trilogy? (Not entirely sure who you write for, do I'll leave it up to you.)” as requested by @valkyriesandbrokenhalos​

Description: While on a mission in your home world, you take the time to enjoy the night sky. To your surprise, a certain Clone Captain decides to join you. 

Word count: ~2.2 k

Warnings: Fluff. This is pure and utter all fluff. Some drinking! Tinyyyyy bit of angst if you squint to see it. Also, first time writing for our boy Rex so please be kind!

A/N: I decided to do Rex for this fic after a suggestion from @acnini​ (also special shoutout to her for beta reading 💖)! I hope you all like it, especially you Aro! Thank you for participating in my celebration! 🥳💗 

P.S. I have another Rex request I am working on which will most likely be a part 2 for this!!

tags: @acnini​ , @catsnkooks​ , @kaminobiwan​

—

Sitting in a dinner hall in a table full of tipsy clones was not what you imagined you’d be doing when General Skywalker told you to pack your bag for the mission this morning. But here you are, in your home planet, eating delicacies you’d only dreamt of as a child. 

Music bounces off the walls, not loud enough to hurt your ears, but definitely loud enough to make it hard to think. You look around, feeling a bit overwhelmed with the setting you are in. Usually, you wouldn’t be attending these sorts of things; your position as an engineer for the 501st allowed you to stand on the sidelines, focus on your job and nothing more. But this is a special mission. The meeting General Skywalker has is with none other than the head of foreign operations of your home world Elzu. 

The small planet could have been as beautiful as Naboo, were it not for the exploitation of natural resources by the government. By the time Elzu joined the Republic, it was drastically divided. Those who had been part of the group exploiting the resources are still the ones in power now. The rest are left to fend for themselves, many immigrating to other planets in search of a better livelihood. Your parents were part of the latter group, taking you and your siblings to Coruscant when you were about 9 years old. Thanks to their sacrifice and hard work, you now have the job you have. 

So when General Skywalker asked if you’d be willing to join him and the 501st to the meeting as a point person for all things Elzu, you were hesitant. Elzu held many bittersweet memories, and you’d only been back a handful of times since your family had left all those years ago. General Skywalker had sensed your hesitation, and asked if instead you could help by giving him a list of the customs of the planet. However, as you were writing the list, you thought back to all the ways Skywalker and the 501st had helped you get to where you are, and knew that the least you could do was help with the trip in person. Though now that you’re here, you’re starting to wish you’d just stuck to the list. 

The boisterous laugh of Fives rips you from your thoughts. You blink a few times in an attempt to refocus on the present. You turn to look at Fives, who’s sitting at your table, in an attempt to see what he’s laughing at. When your eyes travel around the other clones in your table and settle on a rather flustered looking Dogma, you have an idea of what Five’s source of entertainment currently is. 

In spite of your otherwise uncomfortable feelings, you can’t help but smile. It was rare that the clones of the 501st were so at ease while on a mission. Seeing them all gathered in the main dinner hall enjoying good food made you happy, especially knowing this type of mission would be one of a kind. 

The eating and socializing continues, and though you converse with the clones around you, you mostly stay quiet. After deciding you’d had enough to eat, you excuse yourself and walk out of the dinner hall. 

You hate to admit it, but the palace you’re currently in is gorgeous. The large and intricate structure was built from different Elzian resources, Elzian marble being the most predominant. As you mindlessly walk down the hallway, you stay close to the wall, the smooth walls leaving a cool sensation on your fingertips. You keep walking around, not really knowing where you intend on going. That is, until you spot  a sliver of the night sky. 

Your feet make their way to the landing deck on its own. It isn’t until you feel the cool night breeze on your skin that you realize just how hot it is inside. Letting out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, you step out onto the seemingly unused landing deck. You almost gasp at the sight; the height of the deck makes you feel as if you’re in the sky. 

If there was one thing you’d always miss most about Elzu, it’s the sky. It’s easy to forget that there’s even a sky in Coruscant due to the endless bustle of traffic. But that isn’t the case here. No, here, the sky is clear, the stars densely decorating it to look like the most royal of sparkling gowns. 

You take a seat directly on the landing deck, sprawling your legs out in front of you and placing your hands on the durasteel ground. Maker, you can almost reach out and touch the stars, pick them like the fruit of a tree, with how close they seem. 

“Beautiful night.”

If you weren’t sitting, you would have jumped at the sudden voice behind you. However, as the initial shock leaves you, you recognize the voice, a deep honey voice you never get tired of hearing. 

Footsteps approach you, and you can feel them under your palms. They stop as two white and blue armored legs appear next to you. Your eyes follow the legs up to their owner’s face, the brown skin and blonde hair of your favorite person making the feeling of a thousand pairs of wings erupt in your stomach. 

“Rex.”

“How are you, nau?”

At the sound of his tone, you know he can tell you’re not feeling your best. You also know there’s no point in trying to convince him otherwise. 

“I’m doing okay, given the circumstances,” you say. 

Lightly dropping his helmet to his side, he takes a seat next to you. You look at him as he mimics the way you’re sitting, legs spread out in front of him, hands on either side of him. And honestly, you can’t help but admire just how beautiful he looks. 

Your eyes move from where you see his legs brushing your own, landing instead on his face. You find him looking at you, concern etched onto his features. 

“You know how I feel about this place, Rex. It doesn’t hold the best memories,” you finally say. 

“I know,” he simply says. 

He knows. Of course he knows. He knows because he’s been by your side when you’ve had a few too many drinks at 79’s and spilled all about your childhood hardships. He knows because he’s been by your side when you try to discreetly get information on how the less fortunate of Elzu are holding up with the war. He knows because he’s always been there, with you.

Relief washes over you when you realize you don’t have to explain all the feelings caused by being on Elzu. Bringing up your legs to hug them to your chest, you look up at the sky again, the smile from earlier returning. 

“Have you ever heard of shooting stars?”

“Shooting stars?” At his question, you nod. “I haven’t, nau.”

“Well you’re in for a treat tonight.”

His brow raises, and a faint smile paints his face. “Is that right?”

You nod again. “Elzu is known for its shooting stars, sometimes called flying stars. The people of Elzu believe they’re the souls of beings who have passed all around the galaxy as they make their way to their final resting spot. Legend has it they grant wishes.”

Rex laughs lightly, not in a mocking way, but rather in a surprised way. For someone who’s usually surrounded by so many facts, Rex doesn’t expect you to be so invested in old tales. 

“Hey, I’m being serious!” you say, a laugh coming out of you as well. “I used to make a wish every night when I was a kid.”

Rex won’t ask what you wished, you know that. He doesn’t want to impose, pour salt on the wound that is already being constantly poked at while being here in Elzu. But either way, you continue, part of you needing to tell him what you wished for all those years ago. 

“I’d initially wish for childish things; a new toy or the chance to taste one of those many pastries they have inside. But then the guilt would creep in, and instead I’d wish for the star to bring my family and I stability. Not riches, those weren’t necessary, just stability. Food on the table, a roof over our heads, shoes on our feet. And the next night I’d do the same again: wish for something childish then scrap it for a worthwhile wish.”

As you finish, you don’t know what you expect Rex to say. You don’t know if you even expect him to say anything. And initially he doesn’t, he sits there next to you in silence looking up at the same sky you’d stare at endlessly as a child. 

“Ca’tra.”

You turn to look at him, the word foreign to your ears. For the most part, you knew the phrases of his native Mando’a he’d speak around you. Nau, for example, was what he called you, a nickname of sorts. He’s told you it means light, a nod to the way you two initially met during a blackout on a ship you’d been working on, a flashlight in hand as you bumped in face first to his chest. But ca’tra you didn’t know, so you waited for him to continue. 

“It means ‘night sky’,” he explains, and you make a mental note to add that to the list of Mando’a words you have written on your data pad. “I often gazed up at the night sky back in Kamino growing up. It brought me calm whenever I’d feel...uneasy.”

“Ca’tra.” You test the word in your mouth, hoping you pronounced it correctly. At his smile and nod, your heart blooms with pride. 

“And though we have no word for shooting star, we do have ka’ra, which means stars.” 

Another word to add to the list, you think. 

Your eyes go back to the sky, and almost as if on queue, you see the flash of light that filled you with hope as a child. 

“Look! A shooting star! Make a wish,” you say, closing your eyes to mentally make your own. You wish for progress in the war with as little casualties as possible, you wish for his safety. A whisper of a thought adds another part to the wish: I wish for Rex to stay by my side. 

You open your eyes slowly, glancing over at Rex to see if he’s done with his wish. Only, you don’t find him with his eyes closed as you’d had them. He’s not even looking up at the sky. No, he’s looking at you. 

For a split second, you forget how to breathe at the sight of his beautiful eyes on you. Taking a small breath, you speak. 

“Did you make a wish?” You don’t intend for your voice to be a whisper, but with the way he’s looking at you, you don’t manage anything else. 

Rex nods. “Yes, I did.”

You want to ask what it is, but know that the way wishes come true is by keeping them to yourself. 

“Well,” you say, your hand seemingly moving on its own will as it lands on top of his. “I hope your wish comes true.”

“I hope so too,” he responds. 

You turn back to look at the sky, your hand still on Rex’s. And maybe it’s the glass of Elzian wine you drank, or the fact that you’re looking up at the night sky you spent your whole childhood wishing under, or even the drunken state Rex causes you to be in regardless of the amount of alcohol in your system, but you think you know what Rex wished for. Well, you hope you know what he wished for. 

As if to put your mind at ease and to confirm your thoughts all at once, Rex moves his hand so that he’s now holding yours. The cool feeling of the durasteel you both are sitting on makes for a sharp contrast to just how warm his hand feels on your own. Before you have time to process his actions, he hits you with another jolt of electricity when he softly squeezes your hand.  

You don’t have to look at him to know he’s smiling, because you’re smiling too. You’re smiling the smile that only appears whenever Rex is with you, by your side, safe. 

And as the two of you sit under the night sky, you don’t feel the guilt you’d expected to feel at the last addition to your wish. It’s a bit selfish, you admit, wishing for something exclusively for you. But you don’t, can’t feel guilt when all you feel is warm, kind love with Rex by your side. 

When the next shooting star paints the sky, you once again wish for Rex to stay by your side, nothing more, nothing less.

[genesisrose74]

um hello 😳 I would like to request a fic 🥴 uhM could I get a (general, platonic lol) fukurodani with a shy third year manager? with like a subtle bokuto x manger 😳 ? oh and one day, the manager builds up the courage to give them a very quiet but motivational speech ? (bonus poiNts if they’re like,,, “protective” over them ahaha 🥴) anyways uh,, ty ty ! 😳 - @your-local-bnha-writer // bean ! ☺️

Okay first off thank you for being my first ever ask and second I ADORE THAT! Here you are darling, hope I did something to your liking!

The school halls of Fukurodani Academy bustles with activity, students hurrying to start their weekend after leaving the campus grounds. Well, all but yourself. You were zipping up your backpack and preparing to make a beeline towards one of your favorite places on campus. As the manager of Fukurodani’s volleyball team, you always made it a rule to be standing in the practice gym on time, note taking clipboard in hand and first aid kit slotted neatly between the legs of your chair. God knows you needed one (or three) on hand. Today, you were running a bit behind after being chosen to clean up the room, so you felt ready to hightail it across school.

However, you were stopped in the doorway of your now empty classroom, effectively halting your movements to get to team practice. You recognized the figure in front of you as one of your fellow third year students from the class down the hall - quite a popular soccer player if you were remembering correctly - but you internally panicked when you couldn’t put a name to the face.

“Hey, you’re the one who scored super high on the midterms a while back, right?” He asks, and you nod, feeling a little impatient but too timid to excuse yourself.

He didn’t seem to notice your antsy behavior, however, a grin widening on his face as he leaned closer to you in eagerness. Your lungs squeeze in your chest with his proximity.

“That’s super awesome! Do you think that, maybe you could tutor me sometime?”

Social interaction was something you were not very skilled at. While many people had asked you before for after school help and such, it was usually over text or around your friends, where you felt a bit more comfortable. Usually they would understand and politely go on their way. Yet now, you were having trouble conversing with this guy, let alone tutoring him, and there was no one else you knew in sight to help explain as you only became more fidgety.

“Well, I’m really sorry,” you clasp your hands in front of you, looking down as you fiddle with your fingers, “but I don’t think I can tutor anyone currently.”

The boy tilts his head, eyebrows furrowing. “But I thought you tutored Bokuto. Why not me?”

Your eyes widen. Now it looks like you’re just turning this guy down because you don’t like him, doesn’t it? “Oh, Bokuto is…” how do I explain?

Not many people knew that you were the manager of Fukurodani’s volleyball team. Such a lively sport and an even rowdier team didn’t seem like a very fitting place for someone as reserved as yourself. If they did know that, they might be able to see the large chunk of time it took up in your schedule, not leaving much room for everything else. Bokuto was an exception for tutoring, because you would help him out in the club room after practice, but that was really all you had time for.

Maybe if you could explain that, this boy might understand. Yet he was so close to your personal space, it was making it more difficult to speak than usual.

How long have you both been standing here? You’re already late for practice at this point.

“Did I do something that made you upset? Or are you just interested in Bokuto or something?” the third year presses.

Your body jolts at his inquiries, voice a bit higher pitched than before when you answer. “N-no! It’s not like that!”

“Then what’s the issue?” he leans forward even more, and now you can’t tell if he’s intentionally trying to be nosy or if he’s just being inquisitive. It doesn’t matter to you as you keep stumbling over your words.

“She’s our manager, that’s the issue,” a voice speaks up behind the unnamed boy, and your shoulders loosen up when you recognize the new presence to be Akaashi. There’s another figure beside him, his trademark hairstyle easily identifiable, and he only makes you feel more at ease.

Bokuto is next to you in a moment, already in his practice gear. You look up at him with confusion written on your features, eyes conveying a silent question of why are you here?

“You’re never late,” he explains with an easy grin. “So we wanted to check up on you.”

His hand is on your arm as Bokuto gently guides you over to the open hall, watching as Akaashi explains your occupation as their manager to the third year from earlier. As impassive as the setter is while he speaks, the male he’s talking to does not look very secure under the hardened stare of the Fukurodani captain beside you.

Before you can properly register or wave it off, the boy apologizes profusely to you before scurrying out of the building as quick as he can. Akaashi turns to you with a soft smile, although the rest of his posture expresses concern. “Are you alright?”

“I’m okay,” you confirm. “I don’t think he was trying to be pushy on purpose.”

“Still,” Bokuto speaks up, unusually serious, “he shouldn’t have kept getting that close to you. It was clearly making you uncomfortable.”

His mood suddenly shifts when he looks into your eyes, voice energized and inviting as he juts his thumb over his shoulder in the now less-crowded hall. “Want to get to practice now?”

A nod is all the setter and spiker duo need to string you along on their trek back to the gym. Akaashi is relatively quiet, sometimes throwing his two cents in but mostly letting Bokuto take the lead on conversation. The second year offers you a stick of Pocky that you gladly accept, laughing gently about something Bokuto said in his class that afternoon. When you all reach the entrance of the gym, there’s no longer tension in your body, and your heart warms when you spot the entire team waiting for you to arrive.

Komi, who’s in your classroom, greets you with a somewhat guilty expression when you enter. “I didn’t realize you got stuck with clean up or I would have stayed behind to help.”

You shake your head at the sentiment. “It’s alright, you would have been cutting it close getting here.”

The rest of the boys wave at you, sharing their concern for your whereabouts when you weren’t in the gym on time. You can’t help but shy away a bit from the attention, but a smile tugs at the corners of your lips as you help set up with the knowledge that your team truly cared for you.

While you’d only known some players on the team for less than a year now, it already felt like they were part of the close friends you had accumulated over your last three years in the volleyball club. As much as it seemed out of character for you to be open to such an unruly team and their sport, it was one of the places that you felt the most comfortable. Leaving the job behind you when the time came later in the year was something you hated dwelling on, as you knew it would be one of the hardest things to let go of.

Konoha hitting that line shot just right, Washio and Onaga high fiving after stuffing a block, Komi spitting out his water in laughter when Saru completely botched his jump serve. Things so trivial, but the moments that you’d remember for a long time coming.

Of course, you’d stay in touch with your team, especially the third years with which you’d spent so many memories. But you wanted to give them something to remember you by, something to convey how special your three years with them had been. It was difficult, though, seeing as you were more soft spoken than others. It felt like a hindrance on how much appreciation you could show your team, even more so when there were so many kind and outgoing members who could brighten your day in an instant. You could barely even muster up the courage to speak to the whole team at once, despite the progress you had made with being more sociable during your time in the club.

So what could you do?

“Someone looks happier,” Bokuto notes, snapping you out of your thoughts. He takes a seat on a folding chair beside you, drinking his water while giving you the side eye.

You hum in agreement with his observation, and the captain sports another one of his easy smiles, although his eyes seem more affectionate this time around. “I’m glad.”

Your cheeks turn rosy whenever he looks at you like that, and you’re hoping he just thinks it’s a product of your shyness, regardless of the fact that you feel the most confident and outgoing whenever said third year is around. Fortunately for you, he doesn’t seem to notice it, instead standing to rummage through his bag behind the set of chairs.

A large piece of fabric is placed around your shoulders, which you notice to be Bokuto’s team jacket as it covers you. You push your arms through the jacket sleeves, much too over-sized for your figure, but you’re very much content as it instantly warms you up.

“You always forget yours,” he chides, although his sweet smile betrays his scolding tone. “I’m starting to think you like mine better.”

“Mine’s in my locker, which I never go past cause I’m always rushing here,” you mumble, looking away from him in embarrassment.

It had become a very usual habit of yours to take the captain’s jacket during practices, and it was even more common in the past year as you’d grown even closer to him. It was just so comfy and big on you, not to mention it smelled like him.

Hahahaha what-

Bokuto falters for a moment when you glance back up at him, sweater paws adjusting the clothing to look less awkward on your sitting form. He feels his heart skip a beat when you give him an appreciative half-smile. “Thanks.”

The ace clears his throat and scratches the back of his neck, becoming the shyer one in that moment as his gaze falls on anything but you. “Yeah, no problem.”

While the Fukurodani captain returns to his place on the court for an end of practice scrimmage, you take the time to look around the group of players you’d come to know and love so much. The final regular season tournament was closing in quicker than you hoped, and then it might very well be time to say goodbye. Still, you felt only a content warmth as you watched your team - from the jacket around your shoulders or from something else, you weren’t sure - as you came to a decision.

You were going to give the best damn pep talk that your boys have ever heard.

For the remainder of practice you sat in that same folding chair, clipboard in hand and first aid kit between your feet, and you scribbled the hell out of your notes. Every draft would start off strong, and you felt good about the direction of what you wanted to say, but then you hadn’t the slightest clue of how to convey your next message in the following sentence. Nothing flowed correctly or seemed good enough, so you scratched out your words and started again. That cycle continues for what seems like forever, and before you know it, the sounds of team encouragement and sneakers squeaking on the floor no longer fill your ears.

You jump a bit after registering the team calling you over for a quick huddle, scurrying beside Coach Yamiji as you freak out over the fact that practice is already over.

Shit, shit, shit. Not enough time.

Coach discusses the upcoming tournament with everyone, but you’re falling in and out of focus, frantically tapping a pen on the clipboard in your grasp. There was practically nothing you could use on it’s pages, everything either scratched out or just not even completed. The concrete resolve you had built up beforehand felt as if it were falling away like eroding sand while insecurity bubbled up inside. If it weren’t for the intense focus the boys were putting into today’s post-practice talk, a few might have noticed your fidgety demeanor, but the meeting felt much too quick until it was already time for the last cheer.

Did the moment really pass away?

Worry on what to say fell away into disappointment as each team member joined their hands in. Maybe you should just leave it be.

But your own, jacket-covered hands hesitated to meet in the middle, instead reaching out to the side and grabbing at an unassuming Akaashi.

No. That’s the only thing that crossed your mind once the doubts passed through. You tug at the setter’s practice shirt a bit, the second year looking over to you with curiosity. Bokuto also looks your way, and the rest of the team follows suit when they realize their captain-vice captain duo have their attention captured. Hands drop from the middle of the circle as you make no move to include yours.

“You alright?” Akaashi asks, face impassive except for his worried eyes.

You nod, taking in a breath as you scan the group of inquisitive boys. “I’m fine. I just - c-could I say something?”

Your voice barely raises above a murmur when addressing the team, but the widened eyes of each member indicates that everyone heard you. The shake out of their surprise quickly, though, expressions encouraging of your request.

“Of course you can, y/n!” Bokuto animatedly supports with a huge grin. “Go ahead, team manager!”

A smile of your own tugs at your lips, the captain’s boisterous attitude easing your nervousness. You hug the scribbled upon clipboard to your chest as you start, knowing for a fact that your words wouldn’t be written anywhere on there.

“I just wanted to say…” your voice is soft but sure as you begin, “I wanted to let you know, how much you all inspire me. It’s kind of scary thinking that this next tournament might be my last one with you, but I’m really confident that you will give it your all - and probably even more - to make sure we keep our time together going.

“Our school banner says to put your heart and soul into each ball, which I think you’ve always done, so that’s all you can ask of yourselves. Be proud, and show off, and maybe we can show the whole country this team that I’m so happy to be a part of. I-I don’t care what happens, but just promise me...that you’ll give it your best?”

Every person in the gym is silent as they listen to you, eyes ironically owlish while you give the first major pep talk of your three year managerial career. If you looked closer, you would have noticed the glassiness of their stares that hinted at oncoming waterworks, some of the boys biting the insides of their cheeks to keep themselves together. You can’t tell if the dead quiet is due to your awkward speech or not, so you attempt to wrap things up.

“Uhm, I’m being pretty cliche right now, so I’ll stop here...” your voice drops off, but it’s hardly noticeable to the guys at this point. The distinct sounds of sniffling reaches your ears, and it’s then when you realize that nearly the entire group appears emotional.

Komi, being one of the more outspoken players on the team, is the first one to truly pipe up, voice uncharacteristically cracking when he asks, “Is it alright to hug?”

Your cheeks grow warm with the question, your own eyes welling up as you choke out a small laugh. “Yeah, go on ahead if you want.”

The entire team engulfs you in a big, emotional, quite sweaty sandwich of a group hug, but you don’t mind the perspiration or the proximity at the moment. The third years were quickest to embrace you, their tears staining Bokuto’s jacket that you still wore - the ace’s own most definitely among them.

“That was so beautiful!” said captain wails, a blubbering mess as he hugs your waist tightly. A number of the boys share a similar emotional state, Sarukui, Anahori, and Komi spouting ‘we love you, manager!’ like it’s the only words they can remember. Akaashi gives you a light squeeze around the shoulders, while simultaneously trying to calm down the bawling squad around him. Even Washio, ever the silent one, has a gentle hand on your back in the mess of an embrace. “Thank you,” is all he says, but the phrase is more than enough to warm your heart further.

When everyone manages to peel away from the group hug eventually, wiping at teary eyes and runny noses, Bokuto takes the reins. He’s got one arm slung across your shoulders, the other one curling his hand into a fist.

“Alright team, let’s give it our best!!” the captain declares, his watery smile paired with the boys’ shaky resounding cry spurring a laugh from your throat.

Overall, a pretty great first pep talk with a pretty darn great team. If you were lucky enough, maybe there might be a few more in your future, but if not, you felt perfectly content with your time spent. From the reaction you got, your boys seemed to agree.

[nethandrake]

those nights.

tonyjan. marvel 616. rated t. non-canon compliant. 2.2k words.

also on ao3.

*****

Parties have always been one of Jan’s favorite events to attend. This one in particular, however, unsettles her.

Don’t get her wrong, she adores Steve Rogers. Even at his worst, at his most stubborn and self-righteous, there’ll be a part of her who unconditionally loves that stupid, stupid man.

But it’s hard for her to watch him around Tony, to take in the look of stark adoration on Steve’s face. Harder even to realize they've slipped away to the balcony to be alone, slipped away from Steve's birthday party.

It doesn’t make sense to Jan. Steve should be inside, cozying up to his girlfriend. He should be here, trading jokes with Sam. He should be here, standing by the punch bowl to make sure no one spiked the punch.

And yet, there he is, making googly eyes at her boyfriend.

Jan takes a sip from her mocktail and wonders if this is how it feels to be Sharon Carter.

It had been a miracle when Tony agreed to rekindle their romance, the one she had ended all those years ago. A part of her does regret breaking up with Tony then. She won’t deny that Tony was an asshole for dating her while keeping his identity as Iron Man from her. But she missed the crinkle around his eyes whenever he shoots those startling blues, missed the way he’d throw his head back and laugh like she made the best joke ever, missed him.

Being with Tony was, is, different than being with Hank, Alex, or even Paladin. Being with those men was great. Fun. Oddly enough, dating Tony is easier and safer, but no less thrilling and fun. Tony has been by her side since they were kids. He was one of the few people who kept her sane when high society got the best of her. He was the one she could be herself around with, to kick her feet up and just be Jan and not the Wasp or a van Dyne.

With Tony, she didn’t need to compete with anyone. She’s his and only his.

Until now, that is.

She doesn’t know how it’s only hit her. Steve and Tony have been doing this dance for over a decade now. It’s no secret to everyone in the superhero community that Steve and Tony are hopelessly in love with each other. Idiots who haven’t acted on their feelings from the moment they met, who decided that dating other people is for the best.

Jan’s stomach plummets at that thought.

Is that all their relationship is to Tony? A way to forget? Did he choose to date her just because Steve’s with Sharon? Is this some twisted—

She pushes that thought away before her brain could finish it for her.

Tony wouldn’t do that. Tony’s a man who lets his love for people consume him until there’s nothing left but skin and bones. Tony has let so many people into his heart, only for them to trounce all over it. He has to have genuine feelings for Jan. He has to.

Well, she thinks, a little hysterically, at least I don’t look like Steve. Been there, done that, and never again.

She pushes the stray lock of hair from her eyes and is about to turn on her heel when a voice stops her in her tracks.

“They’re at it again, huh.”

Jan shrugs her shoulders, not bothering to face the speaker. She could recognize that voice anywhere. “I think everyone sees it but them.”

Next to her, Sharon lets out a quiet snort. “Ain’t that the truth.”

Outside, Tony throws his head back in laughter. Steve’s grin broadens so widely that Jan’s surprised it hasn’t split his face in half yet.

For a long moment, Jan can’t tear her gaze away from the sight. It’s like being in a speeding car with no brakes, destined to crash and go up in flames. She wonders if that’s how their relationship is going to end – in flames.

God, she hopes not. She really hopes not.

Somehow her gaze has flickered over to Sharon. Surprise washes over her as she takes in how unbothered Sharon seems to be at the open affection between the men. It’s a big contrast to all those countless instances before. She’s seen the subtle discomfort and jealousy behind Sharon’s eyes whenever Steve went overboard with waxing poetic over Tony or at the way Steve lights up when Tony walks into the room.

Jan hates how she's in Sharon's shoes now.

“How do you stand it?” she says, startled at how quiet her voice is to her ears

At first, she doesn’t think Sharon heard her, given the boisterous chatter around them. But then Sharon purses her lips and taps a manicured finger against her solo cup.

“It wasn’t easy at first, seeing him half in love with someone who isn’t me. And sometimes it still isn’t.”

“But?”

Sharon tilts her head to the side. “But I just try to tell myself that I’m the one Steve comes home to. That some people can love more than one person. That his love for Tony doesn’t lessen his love for me.”

Jan gnaws at her lip. Names and images of the women Tony flash through her mind. “I don’t think I could do that,” she admits. “Share him.”

“Well, it’s a good thing they haven’t done anything about it, then.” Sharon pauses. “Look, I know Tony can be shit at communicating, but really, you have nothing to worry about. I’ve seen the way he looks at you, heard the way he speaks about you. He loves you. Really loves you. Seriously, take it from someone who’s dating a guy who’s also shit at communication.”

Tony’s rolling his eyes, elbowing Steve playfully. Steve returns the gesture with a light shove, his grin still plastered on his face.

“I know he does,” Jan says. “It’s just that sometimes I…” She exhales. “It’s hard. Sometimes.”

Sharon nods, humming before flashing Jan an empathic smile. “Yeah, I know the feeling.” She drains the last of her drink, sighing. “C’mon, let’s go and drown our insecurities in food. Jess brought some donuts from the bakery near her apartment and apparently, they’re to die for.”

The rest of the party passes in a blur. Jan does what she always does at parties – talk, laugh, catch up with everyone. And it’s nice, really, seeing and speaking all her superhero friends in a more relaxed setting.

And yet, there’s still that part at the back of her head, whispering. Nudging. Persuading.

“Hey,” Tony says, sidling up to Jan when Carol’s whisked away from her side. “You’ve been pretty quiet the whole night. Something up?”

Jan musters the best smile she can, cursing mentally for Tony’s perceptiveness. “It’s nothing. I’m just tired.”

Tony’s eyebrows knit together but fortunately, he doesn’t push for answers. “C’mon, let’s get out of here then. I’ll drop you off at your place.”

“But Steve—”

“Steve will understand.”

Will he though?

Steve has always been a terrible liar, always wearing his heart on his sleeve (which Jan supposes is what makes him a great Captain America). Even when he walks Tony and Jan to the door, grinning warmly as he thanks them and bids them goodbye, she can see the shuttered look behind his eyes.

The immature part of her preens at that.

Sharon might have a point. As transparent as Tony is of his affections for Steve, Jan’s the one he’s going on dates with. Jan’s the one he chooses to kiss and make love to. Jan’s the one he calls up to talk about everything and nothing with.

Jan’s the one he’s been in a relationship with for months now.

And yet, Jan can’t help the self-doubt clawing in her head, desperate to consume her.

“I love you,” she says when they settle inside Tony’s car.

Tony glances her way, a soft smile gracing his lips. She wonders if this smile is the same smile he gives Steve. She hopes so.

“I love you too.”

She’s heard this admission one, two, many times before. And yet, it doesn’t stop her heart from skipping at the warmth and the gentleness in his tone.

This time, however, it doesn’t settle the flare of jealousy and insecurity brimming inside of her. And since she can’t help herself, she lets it boil over.

“You love Steve too.”

Tony stills, the smile slipping off her face.

Jan swallows, her eyes trained on her hands in her lap, bracing herself. “I see the way you look at him, the way he looks at you. You’ve been pining for each other for years and if you—”

“He has Sharon now,” he answers flatly.

“Still. Doesn’t change the fact that he loves you.”

He frowns. “Where are you going with this?”

There’s an edge to his tone, one that tells her that she’s fucked up.

Maybe this is it. Maybe this is when Tony finally realizes that Steve’s his true love, when Tony throws the car door open and runs to be with the one he’s meant to be with, when Tony decides that their second chance was a mistake.

She should’ve kept him all those years ago. God, she really should’ve. She should’ve—

“Babe, I need you to—” Calloused fingers brush under her chin, Tony tentatively brushing it with his thumb. “Hey, look at me.”

With a sharp intake of breath, she steels herself and does what he says.

Tony’s jaw is tight and his bright blue eyes are aflame, like he has something to prove. It’s a reasonable reaction, expected even. But then she gives him another look and sees everything else – the softness behind the fire, the ghosted touch against her skin, the light blush tinting his cheeks.

“There’s always be a part of me who loves Steve. No matter what. I don’t think I can deny that part of my anymore. But— Hey, babe. Listen. Look at me.”

Again, she does so and freezes because god, his eyes are so blue.

The nerves behind Tony’s smile eases a little as he continues to worry her chin with his thumb. “Sure, I love Steve. I won’t deny— Hey, look at me. But he’s not the one I’m in love with, the one I picture myself spending the rest of my life with. You’re the one I’m in love with. You’re the one I want to live the rest of my life with.”

Just like that, all the air in Jan’s lungs dissipates. “Tony—”

Tony smiles. “It’s the truth. Honest truth. You make me feel whole. You make me happier than I’ve ever been in a long time. Hell, I don’t think I’ve felt this happy. Ever. Being with you makes me so fucking happy. I love you. You’re everything good in this world.”

“But Steve—”

“Steve is nothing compared to you.”

That earnest and genuine admission alone is what pushes her into action, sealing her lips with his. As always, his lips are soft and pliant, tasting of coffee and promises. His fingers trail upwards, his palm resting against her cheek as he returns the gesture with the most warmth and affection she’s ever experienced.

He loves her. Fuck, he loves her.

She’s totally taking Sharon to her personal tailor after this.

“Wow,” Jan breathes when they break apart, her cheeks warm and her heart in her throat. “Imagine calling Captain America a nothing. You better hope no one’s listening to this conversation because let me tell you, you’re screwed otherwise.”

Tony grins, a hint of mischief behind his eyes. “Anything for you, Miss van Dyne.” His smile fades, leaning back into his seat. “But really, if anyone that should be—”

She shakes her head, reaching over to give his calloused palm a reassuring squeeze. “Tony, no. There’s no deserving here. You are enough for me. You make me happy, happier than I’ve ever felt in a long time. I love you too.”

Hope flashes behind his eyes. “Yeah?”

Jan nods, her own stinging. “Yeah.”

The smile she gets in return is both warm and heart-wrenching.

Jan hates seeing Tony like this, hates the demons and self-loathing plaguing him. She knows it’s why he never tried making a move on Steve all these years.

Obviously, it’s all bullshit, but it’s something they need to revisit soon. That and her own insecurities too. In fact, they definitely need to talk a lot of things out.

Not tonight though. Tonight, all she wants to do is curl up next to Tony on the couch, ridicule the shitty soap operas on-screen and later fall asleep in each other’s arms. And judging by Tony’s expression, he seems to feel the same.

“Hey,” she begins, “you mind if I crash at your place tonight? It’s kinda late and your place is nearer—”

Tony’s lips tug to the side, cocking an eyebrow. “Janet van Dyne, are you propositioning me?”

Jan smirks. “And what if I am?”

His other eyebrow arches. “Nadia isn’t expecting you, is she? ‘Cause as much as I’d love to have you over, I would like to be alive to, you know, date you.”

Jan laughs, snaking her arm around his. “As long as you bring me back to her in one piece, she’ll be fine.”

Tony chuckles as the car roars to life. “Well then. She has nothing to worry about.”

[itsstickball]

Can you please write more of the rivalry thing? It’s soooo good. I would love to see Neil’s teams reaction

I didn’t forget you, I promise!! Here is Rivalry pt. 3: All Star Week 

(pt.1 pt. 2)

Three days before the start of All Star week, Neil makes the mistake of posting the kitten video he meant to send as a private message directly to his twitter feed. In the clip, a kitten bats away a ball a few times before missing three in a row. The final attempt, the ball goes directly over its head and the kitten topples backwards trying to stop it. By the time he figured out that it hadn’t gone directly to Andrew, there were several hundred likes already. Rather than try to find the tutorial again on how to delete a twitter post, he tags Andrew in a comment instead and adds #shootout.

He doesn’t realize the magnitude of his mistake until he’s sitting in front of a camera, geared up for the shoot-out event, with a microphone two inches from his face and an excited looking reporter.

They’ve made it through the general questions. How does it feel to be called an All Star after only three years in the professional league? (Satisfying, but not as good as being signed to Court last spring). Which event is he looking forward to the most? (The final game, obviously) Does he have any tricks up his sleeve for the shootout? (We’ll just have to wait and see, won’t we?) The sudden gleam in the reporter’s eyes should have tipped Neil off that things were about to go a bit sideways, but he was running on an Exy high and so dismissed it as fervor for the sport he loved.

Looking back, he can practically hear Andrew’s voice in his head: “Junkie.”

“Speaking of the shootout, we can’t help but wonder; most guys -”

“- And girls.”

“Right, most guys and gals treat this week as a celebration of talent, putting aside rivalries and bad blood to just enjoy the sport, but it fans seem to think from your recent social media postings that this might not be the case for you.”

Neil tried to think about which post, in particular, the reporter is referring to. The only person he can remember roasting recently is Nicky, and he’s in Germany doing – well, Neil doesn’t actually know what he’s doing (Erik aside). Thankfully, the reporter had taken his blank look in stride and then exposed more on the situation. Truthfully though, Neil didn’t hear much more than “Minyard” and “kitten.” His expression flattened further as the lightbulb in his head went off. He still didn’t get the merit of his so called rivalry with Andrew, but apparently it made for good media coverage and the blonde hadn’t mentioned anything about stopping it or setting the record straight, so Neil didn’t fight it either.

He shrugged at the reporter.

“Someone told me once that life imitated art. So I guess we’ll just have to see if that’s true or not. With no plays to analyze, Andrew will have to actually put some effort in to protect his goal today.”

Unfortunately – or fortunately, really, for the media. Andrew did not imitate the cat video and stopped roughly 80% of the shots. Of Neil’s, he missed one and blocked the other.

After that, the goalie sat and watched as the rest of the players took part in passing, aim, trick shots, speed, and one-on-one competitions – most of which kept Neil busy.

When it came time for the one-on-one, Neil grinned when he saw who his first opposing backliner would be. Jean seemed less than enthused, but Neil was more than used to that by now. Just because Jean wasn’t smiling didn’t mean he wasn’t enjoying himself. If anything, his resting bitch face was just as famous as Andrew’s – maybe more.

The backliner turned his head when Neil called out his name and a greeting in French, his expression flattening when he realized who was talking to him. Annoyance was easily Jean’s most common reaction to Neil’s presence, but he put up with him nonetheless.

“Ah, so you’ve come to antagonize someone other than the midget for once.”

He answered in French. Neil faked shock with a hand to his chest as he jogged over to where Jean stood, but let out a laugh.

“I’m wounded that you think so little of me, Jean, really.”

“Yes, little.” Jean replied, icily looking down at Neil. Their height difference was supremely pronounced now that they stood next to each other. Neil gave him a wry look for that one, but Jean had a point. Instead he tugged on the corner of Jean’s sleeve.

“How about instead of insulting my mother’s genes, we talk about your new team. Please tell me you switched for the captain, not for the color scheme.”

The Sacramento Sentinels were a relatively new team, with only one full season under their belt. They also chose the colors gold and black to represent them – both of which Jean wore at some point during his college career. Neil was far more interested in Jean’s reunion with exy’s golden boy Jeremy Knox than any homage to the backliner’s former teams. He watched with a grin as Jean’s eyes involuntarily sought Jeremy out among the players. He scowled when he looked back down and saw Neil’s amused expression.

“Just for that, I’m not letting you get twenty feet from the goal, ma puce!”

Neil laughed as Jean pushed him to the bench with a large hand on his face and then stalked away. His grin only grew when he saw that Jean was, in fact, heading over to where Jeremy was talking with their coach for the game at the end of the week.

True to his word, Jean kept Neil well away from any easy close shots on goal, forcing the striker to resort to a strange trick-shot hail-mary that made it in more on luck than skill. Jean snorted and shook his head when Neil cheered at the goal, but he accepted Neil’s handshake-turned-hug nonetheless.

The rest of the week was a blur of exy and stolen moments with Andrew in the locker room or hotel. Andrew’s transfer to Denver at the end of last season put him in the same division as Neil, meaning they’d have to play and practice on the same team for the All Star game. The increased proximity brought great joy to the striker, even if Andrew continued to glare as he batted Neil’s shots away or look bored as they sailed past him.

Neil could feel the measured looks and camera focus whenever the team practiced for the game at the end of the week.

On Wednesday, after the sixth shot that Andrew had rebounded with just enough force that the strikers had to sprint to rebound it, their All Star coach called for a break. Neil removed his helmet and turned to face Andrew from half court.

“Are you going to shut Kevin out like that on Saturday?” He called out in Russian, not bothering to keep his voice down. From what he knew, none of the others on their team spoke the language. Andrew followed suit, taking his gear off and letting everything but his helmet and stick fall carelessly to the floor.

“What will you give me in return?”

Andrew tossed back. He sounded bored, but just the fact that he was replying at all told Neil he was interested in the deal.

“What, the sheer satisfaction of denying Kevin doesn’t do it for you anymore?”

He shot back, earning one of Andrew’s arm guards thrown at his face. Aware of the eyes watching them from the outer court and the open door, Neil grinned and put as many expletives in his answer as possible.

Andrew rolled his eyes, finally coming up to where Neil stood waiting. He grabbed his glove from the red-head’s grip and pointed it menacingly at him. In English, he said.

“Someone ought to wash that mouth of yours out before it gets you in trouble.”

Only when Andrew stomped past them did Neil take note of the reporters who had paused in their interview of a Dallas backliner to watch their little interaction. His smile turned a little less genuine and slightly sharper until they went back to what they were doing. He didn’t bother to collect any of Andrew’s gear, but hummed to himself as he fetched his water-bottle and then sat down to chat with his fellow strikers.

Andrew hadn’t said no.

He did, however, put fuck all effort into guarding his goal in the preliminary game against the Pacific division on Friday though. Neil flicked him off when he realized what Andrew was doing, grateful that he would only be playing one half. Because the goalie was putting zero effort in, it meant that Neil and the other strikers who played first half had to double theirs in order to keep the goal differential down.

“I fucking hate you.”

Neil wheezed, gasping for breath as they headed back to the locker room afterward. He’d never cared much for the shows that supposedly big stars put on during the halftime breaks at professional games, and he especially didn’t care about whatever spectacle they had planned between the preliminary games and the final All-Star match. No, after clinching a 10-9 win, all he wanted to do was rest until he had to get up and do it all again against the Eastern teams.

Andrew, lumbering ahead of him and quite unaffected by it all, didn’t even have the good graces to wait for him.

“No, Junkie, that’s my line. Or did all that running finally scramble your brain?”

“Ugh. Always.”

Neil groaned and though the look Andrew shot him for it was lethal, he was willing to bit it tugged into a smile as he shouldered through the doorway into the locker rooms. A few of his teammates tried to talk to him about the game, how it went well, all things considered and such things, but he mostly tuned them out as he grabbed his water bottle and joined the string of people disbanding into the locker room.

They played first, so the Central team had over an hour to sit and mingle. Neil smiled when he saw a couple of his teammates and members of the Pacific team walking around with their jersey and a marker. When the first one got to him, he asked what it was for. Laila Dermott grinned down at him, making sure that he took the items and started signing as she spoke.

“Some of the players just keep them as souvenirs – a cool way to remember all of the people they played with that year. A couple of us auction them off for charity. This year the proceeds are going to Stand Up For Kids. It’s an organization working to help homeless kids and those out on the streets.”

“Oh, cool.”

Neil said, a bit stunned by the generosity. He knew from Nicky’s ranting how much a normal jersey worn by a professional athlete could go for, let alone one signed by this many of them.

“Ah yes, gotta keep them off the streets,” Andrew piped up. Somehow, Neil had missed him coming up beside them. “Wouldn’t want them to get into anything dangerous.”

Laila frowned, but Neil didn’t think trying to engage Andrew on some social justice issue was worth the risk. He cut her off by handing her the jersey and marker back and replying himself.

“Don’t be a dick, Andrew.”

The blonde made a show of plucking the Jersey out of his fellow goalie’s hands and signing his name in the largest space available. He flicked his gaze back up to Neil even as he held the shirt and marker back out to Dermott.

“Who said I was?”

Neil let out a huff and stood, grateful that he’d brought slides to wear between games rather than his usual running shoes.

“I’m not doing this here.”

He said. He gave Laila a brief smile and then headed for the hallway. Hopefully most of the reporters would have returned to the outer court to watch the Eastern and Southern division teams play. At the very least, he could find an open office somewhere. Behind him, he heard the noise from the locker room crescendo as someone opened the door behind him. As it swung shut, he faintly heard someone asking if they should stop Minyard from following him. Neil sincerely hoped they didn’t – for everyone’s sake.

When Andrew closed the office door behind them, effectively cutting them off from the rest of the world, Neil felt something settle. Of course, just because he was more comfortable this way didn’t mean he wasn’t cross with Andrew still. The blonde seemed unimpressed as he turned to see how Neil was leaning up against the desk, his arms crossed in front of his chest.

“Are you going to spit it out, or waste my time staring?”

“I’m not mad about the comments to Dermott.” He clarified, mostly because he knew Andrew would be entirely uninterested if he thought that was what had Neil bothered. Then again, he probably wouldn’t like the actual topic of his ire either. Neil sighed and ran a hand through his hair, a habit of frustration he’d picked up from Matt.

“You couldn’t have blocked…I don’t know, half of the shots?”

He asked exasperatedly. True to form, Andrew’s expression flattened.

“That,” He enunciated with great boredom and disdain. “Wasn’t our deal.”

Four words. All it took was four words for Neil to be simultaneously filled with petty ire and a huge sense of relief and satisfaction. Because when Andrew implied that something wasn’t a part of a deal, it meant that there was something else that was.

“Oh.”

Neil breathed, letting all of his anxiety wash out with it.

Andrew looked like he wanted to roll his eyes. He stepped into Neil’s space.

“Yes, or no?”

Neil’s eyes were drawn to the curve of Andrew’s neck, the golden sheen of his eyes in the dimly lit room, the way his lips were slightly damp from licking them. Compulsively, he licked his own lips, but his eyes strayed to the clock on the far wall.

“We don’t have a lot of time before we have to get back, someone’s bound to notice us missing for too long.”

The dead look Andrew gave him said he’d wait for an actual answer. Neil heeded his own observation, however, and didn’t waste time talking. Instead, he leaned forward the last few inches and aligned his lips with Andrew’s.

Later, the final buzzer sounded and Neil whirled to face the scoreboard with a grin. He always had the goals running in his head, but it was indescribably satisfying to have the numbers glowing down at him from the jumbotron. Central 6, Eastern 5. They’d won. Even if it was only by the one point, Neil felt the victory singing in his veins. His teammates yelled and jumped off of each other like they hadn’t just run their legs out for the past twenty minutes. Neil joined them briefly before turning his attention to the goal.

Andrew never joined his teams in celebrations - not once he was sober, and no one ever tried to include him. It was a bit of a shock then to see him leaning casually on his stick talking to another player. The surprise mitigated significantly, however, when he realized that the other player was Kevin. Judging by his stance, he didn’t seem to be picking a fight, but with Kevin and Andrew that was always just a breath away from changing.

Neil excused himself with a slap on the back from the huddle of players to jog over to them. As he joined them, he caught the tail end of Kevin’s sentence.

“…tell me it wasn’t worth it.”

“Mmm,” Andrew mused, taking a moment like he actually had to think about his answer. Neil almost felt bad for how Kevin fell for it every damn time.

“Not quite.” He said, to Kevin’s vocal dismay. Then his eyes slid over to where Neil stood just behind Kevin’s shoulder. “Not yet.”

Kevin made another half-squawk as he turned around to follow Andrew’s gaze, but his expression narrowed when he saw it was just Neil.

“Of course.” He muttered, running a gloved hand down his face. He gave Neil a disapproving look.

“If I were to take his neck guard off, how many hickies would I see?”

Neil grinned wolfishly, but it was Andrew who replied.

“Why don’t you come try to find out for yourself, Kev?”

The taller striker shot a fearful glance behind him and then physically shook it off.

“God you two were meant for each other. How anybody thinks you’re rivals is blind to the most blatant sexual tension I’ve ever seen.”

He grumbled, removing his gloves and clearly getting ready to leave the court. Neil didn’t mind dragging their conversation out, but Kevin seemed to have a sixth sense for how long a private conversation could be before it drew unwanted media attention.

“It was a good game!” Neil called out after him, earning a sharp grin and a wave from Kevin, even if he didn’t stop walking away.

Andrew caught his attention again my poking him in the chest with his racquet. Neil lifted his eyebrows in question.

“Go shower before the exy stench sinks even further into you.” He said in Russian. Neil mirrored the grin he’d given Kevin.

“And here I thought it was too late for that.”

Andrew didn’t respond to that, just pushed Neil towards the locker room again with the giant head of his racquet.

When he was ten steps away, Andrew called out again from behind him.

“And don’t antagonize any fucking reporters. You have a deal to uphold!”

At this, Neil just laughed and flicked Andrew off behind his back.

Unsurprisingly, someone got a great picture of it to plaster across exy news and fan sites alike in the morning. Neil saved it to his phone and then rolled back over into the warm spot Andrew left when he got up to pee.

[timedriving]

DocRip for the Ship meme because it sounds cute af

send me a ship and i’ll tell you… ( accepting )

who hogs the duvet they share. rip doesn’t move much, the doctor doesn’t move much, and so the duvet stays blissfully where it is... and so does rip’s face where it’s buried itself in the doctor’s back or his chest, his arms wrapped firm around him. i don’t think either of them sleep much, but in the moments that they both manage to do it at the same time, rip savours it immensely

who texts/rings to check how their day is going rip checks in more often, but only because he’s less of a scatterbrain and remembers to do these things at a semi-regular basis. the doctor doesn’t always reply right away (but honestly, the tardis has always been a bit odd about receiving messages), but when he does rip often gets an incredibly long reply, which he’ll-- embarrassingly-- read several times before finally writing back although sometimes he reads it several times because he has to reprocess everything the doctor’s written. even his writing is incredibly excitable and sort of resembles a stream of consciousness sort of thing

who’s the most creative when it comes to gifts the doctor, hands down. and it’s not always physical stuff-- though he does like to bring souvenirs when he comes back from periods or places that rip’s never been to (which are a lot!), and rip lovingly places them in his office on a special shelf that’s just for the doctor’s stuff for him. anyway, the doctor’s creative in that he goes from physical gifts to gifts that are experiences to gifts that are just, you know, leaving a sweet voicemail that isn’t intended to be especially sweet or anything, but ends up being sweet anyway because of the way the doctor’s mind works. when he thinks of rip even a little bit he ends up thinking of rip a lot, and it makes for the most embarrassing things to listen to... but only because rip doesn’t know what to do with all these admiring feelings towards him it makes him wish he were better at the whole gift thing in return. he’ll probably never beat the doctor at it (especially with the frequency that gifts are given), but he’s probably given a fairly rough poem or two here and there... or a sketch of the doctor he’s drawn from memory...

who gets up first in the morning the doctor gets up earlier than him and it’s surreal. rip isn’t used to being the one that’s surprised in the morning, and he probably will never be; fortunately, he’s so attuned to the doctor’s voice that he never feels panicked when he is woken... even if the doctor’s sort of flailing about excitedly and rip’s half-asleep mind is just struggling to catch up with all of it the doctor likes rip all freshly woken up; he’s a lot more honest when he’s groggy, what with how he isn’t conscious of what he says or what he sounds like. rip’s also a lot more mushy, and it’s funny in an endearing way seeing him whinge about wanting the doctor to just come back to bed already

who suggests new things in bed the doctor, probably? rip’s tastes are fairly simple, and the doctor’s probably seen way more shit in his 1000ish years of life through time and space. but then they’re both simple in terms of what satisfies them; neither of them really need much? it’s usually just to spice things up here and there, and sometimes it isn’t even overtly sexual or inappropriate (“what if we rode a roller coaster fifteen times-- i think the adrenaline would make the sex after incredible” “...okay” and then rip ends up too dizzy to nail him and the doctor has to pat his back). either way, rip is pretty open-minded, so it’s not like it’s especially difficult

who cries at movies oooh, i feel like they’re both... not the type to cry at films? like they’re both removed enough from these sorts of things that they don’t have enough context to cry about it? rip is probably the first human companion that doesn’t question the doctor even a little when he doesn’t get the deeper humany-wumany emotional details of things... because honestly, rip doesn’t get it either when the movie is so far removed from him he can’t feel any proper attachment to anything. useless

who gives unprompted massages the doctor’s more likely to try doing it unprompted; rip always asks first, and even then i imagine the doctor has to teach him how to do it the first time or so to get his good spots (but after being corrected once here and there, rip picks it up pretty easily!) anyway, the doctor’s pretty good at easing in from gradual touch to, like, serious massaging, so rip doesn’t feel too surprised by it. it’s kind of surreal. also, rip never notices how tense he is until the doctor fixes it... what a wise guy

who fusses over the other when they’re sick rip finds it funny in a sort of silly way that the doctor fusses about him. but then the doctor wouldn’t be so fussy if rip was just a better patient!! rip never friggin’ sleeps properly though, and he always argues about wanting to do some work first before getting his bed rest, and the doctor is like “rip hunter, you are an incredible human, one of the best, but you can’t be the best any more if you get sicker and sicker, all right?” and it’s. it’s so disarming, that the doctor is so kind in this way, and so despite the fact he’s grumbling about it rip does, in fact, get some sleep for him, sheesh

who gets jealous easiest probably rip. it’s intimidating having a partner that’s as old and experienced and worldly (universely?) as the doctor, and sometimes he does worry he’s inadequate for him, which sort of translates to some, uh, unfortunate jealousy here and there. he doesn’t need to be reassured constantly or anything, and it’s not something that makes him angry with the doctor and what not, but it’s there. and he gets a bit tense, sometimes. and the way his eye twitches whenever someone openly flirts with his time lord is something that the doctor notices every time, silly captain hunter no lie, though, rip does like being reminded that he’s the doctor’s favourite. he’s simple. let him be

who has the most embarrassing taste in music i don’t think they have enough understanding of the concept of embarrassment due to music taste to really feel it?? rip’s interested in whatever nonsense the doctor likes to show him, always, and the doctor thinks rip’s eclectic collection of human music is a fascinating way to show how music on earth’s evolved over the years. it’s very honest and wholesome

who collects something unusual they’re both! stupid! collectors! but really, rip’s souvenir hoarding’s got nothing on the doctor’s, but given that the doctor’s breadth and scope of adventuring is a lot wider than rip’s is, the doctor has a significantly larger collection. i think by virtue of that the doctor’s got more unusual things. i like to imagine that he has the equivalent of “getting a starbucks mug from every country you’ve been to” in like... universal terms. probably there are planets out there that have the alien equivalent of starbucks? the doctor with universal starbucks mugs is really cute rip’s most diverse collection is his collection of cereal and various other confectionaries... he has a special time chamber/time lock thing that prevents the contents from ageing and he keeps all that stupid stuff there

who takes the longest to get ready the doctor ALWAYS has to look fly, down to the way his hair is styled, and he tries out new things here and there that rip himself has no inclination towards. rip wears the same clothes, like, all the time, as in same shirt same waistcoast same trousers same hairstyle same beard cut and what not, so he doesn’t have to think much or do much to maintain it as opposed to the doctor’s more ~unique tastes

who is the most tidy and organised rip, i think! in fact, first time he was on the tardis he tried to fix a few things, but then he found out rather quickly that she likes to behave in whatever way she pleases, so he... doesn’t do much any more, save for fixing about the room that the doctor decided was his whenever he chooses to stay over. but then whenever he decides to stay over the doctor also stays in the same room like the goofball he is, so i mean. they end up making a bit of a mess sometimes, anyway

who gets most excited about the holidays the doctor knows SO many holidays! so many! in so many different places and times! and he’s different from rip in the sense that he’s actually celebrated them at least once in his life! rip is fortunate that the doctor chooses not to share the more boring holidays with him, but the ones with festivals or parties or gifts or bright lights or good food and stuff? yeah, rip is getting a crash course in all of them and rip’s not much for interacting with too many people at once, so for the livelier holidays he does like to hang back after he’s reached his threshold of dealing with other people and just watch the doctor have the time of his life. occasionally he will even draw the doctor partaking in these festivities... he always looks so happy

who is the big spoon/little spoon rip quite likes being the big spoon in this scenario. the doctor is so much smaller than him, it’s kind of addicting to hold him and be able to press his face into his hair, or his shoulder, or his back. rip’s also incredibly fond of listening to those twin heartbeats of his; somehow it’ll always be a little surreal, but it’s fitting for a man so full of life, isn’t it? there is just this mutual safety in it, and a sense of honour when rip considers who he’s holding. the doctor could be the most dangerous being in the universe if he chose to be, and rip is here holding him in some metaphorical act of protecting him (even if it’s more likely that the doctor will save his ass more than the other way around) also it’s fun teasing the doctor a little with his touches when rip spoons him... sorry he’s trash.............

who gets most competitive when playing games and/or sports oh no... i think they are both pretty competitive, and it can get pretty intense! these two probably have the most exciting chess games ever, frankly, and it’s kind of funny how they both get some form of adrenaline rushes, but they’re both geniuses aware of their intelligence who like feeling mentally challenged, aren’t they? i also think the doctor appreciates being able to play chess with someone who matches his smarts as well as rip does, even though the doctor tends to beat him more often than the opposite outcome cards can also get straight up hostile sometimes. LMFAO

who starts the most arguments rip has a shorter temper of the two, but when the doctor gets mad he’s WAY more dangerous... that being said i don’t think they argue much besides shallow, playful ribbing of the couple sort just to be shits to each other?? probably the worst thing they could argue about would be for something dangerous and it being, like, “you should stay here where it’s safe!” “no i’ll come with you” “NO YOU’LL STAY” rip’s probably most argumentative about not being left behind, though. definitely. and he’s a growling, stupid dog about it, too

who suggests that they buy a pet the doctor suggests it, and the pet that the doctor suggests is in no way familiar to rip’s earthly traditions. LOL. they’re here with a single-celled, six-winged, alien bird-like sort of thing and it barely needs to be taken care of, and rip can’t pronounce the name the doctor’s given it, so it has a nickname that his sad human mouth and tongue are capable of forming. the pet survives quite nicely in the tardis too, incidentally?? rip is able to teach it tricks somehow with the use of clicking his tongue and whistling and the doctor picks up the technique but not the bird’s cooperation... so unfair. what do you do to make her listen to you, rip!!!

what couple traditions they have they like to leave each other messages in time! in a kind of ridiculous way of like, if rip meets the doctor’s future self in the middle of a mission, he’ll be sure to leave something for his past/present self to find when he eventually gets to that point in his time, you know? the doctor does the same thing. it’s a fun kind of tag along mini scavenger hunt sort of thing, and since history-altering interactions with a time lord don’t seem to ruin the stability of space-time, it’s a fun thing for rip especially

what tv shows they watch together not much... rip doesn’t care about television? i don’t think the doctor does, either. they’ll give a series a try, and maybe there’s something here and there that they end up liking (i am leaning towards westerns?? also the doctor WILL call rip “sheriff” at some point just to tease him and rip will be like *PING!* and the doctor’s never going to let him forget it, just so that’s clear), but it’ll take them AGES to finish because the doctor is incapable of binge-watching anything without getting bored of it halfway through

what other couple they hang out with the ponds i don’t... know really?? maybe martin and clarissa; i like the idea of the doctor and rip joining their trivia nights! and the doctor suggests being the one to come up with trivia questions at some point and rip has to remind him “nobody on earth will know the answer to that, that’s not fair” whilst the doctor is like “hmmmm, it’s their fault for not being better universal students, though” and rip just laughs... that’s his silly time lord...

how they spend time together as a couple besides the adventures they go on? rip is SUPER interested whenever the doctor does any tune-ups for the tardis, and he’s smart enough and talented enough in the engineering biz that he’s not useless when he does it. rip will never know all the secrets to the tardis-- the doctor will never teach him everything, and rip himself won’t be particularly pushy about having to learn it all either-- but he will know enough that the doctor can ask him for help with the more common issues and needs and rip can do them easily without asking for advice

who made the first move the doctor, absolutely, which isn’t to say that rip had never started to develop feelings, but when you grow up idolising the time lords and the culture of gallifrey and then suddenly find yourself able to spend time with the most legendary one of them all, it’s kind of hard to move past that concept that “oh god, he’s so much better than me, it’s not like he’ll see anything in me more than friendship, is it?” i don’t think the doctor is blind, but he isn’t completely sure if rip likes him in that way or if he’s just misreading things? but in the end it is, in fact, the doctor who goes the extra mile, and then rip just loses his whole mind and needs some serious self-control when he finds out he’s allowed to kiss the doctor in this way

who brings flowers home aw man... i like to think the doctor surprises him with it in an attempt to court him in a human way. and though rip isn’t a regular human he does know what flowers symbolise, and it gets to him because... aw, man, he got him flowers! one day it is going to be flowers from a planet that isn’t earth, and rip-- in all his tendencies to keep comfort items-- will end up pressing every flower he gets and keeping them in scrapbooks he thinks he’s being sneaky about it and the doctor doesn’t know, but... the doctor definitely knows that rip’s a sentimental bastard, and that’s wh he keeps giving him this stuff

who is the best cook is rip surprised that the doctor cooks better than him? he is not. what he is surprised by is the fact that the doctor can handle food with as much seasoning as rip needs, because he’s so used to having to adjust to other people’s “normal” tastebuds instead of them adjusting to the fact he needs killer amounts of seasoning to be able to taste anything no offence to his adoptive mum, but in objective terms of taste alone, the doctor might make better food than she does... i don’t think rip’s eaten as often as he eats with the doctor in ages, too

[screamingatanemptyroom]

The Super Villains’ Daughter Part 4

HERE IT IS GUYS! I ENDED THE STORY!!!! The last part to the story of Erica and Henry/Jarrod. I really hope you guys like it. 

For those who haven’t read the earlier parts/need to refresh: 

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 

ERICA

“Are you still bleeding?”  My mother looked down at me with a disapproving expression.

I met her gaze without expression. I was only twelve but I knew what would happen if I spoke back. Seeming satisfied with my lack of reaction she dropped a package into my lap.

Confused, I opened it with one hand, the other clutching a rag against my thigh which had been slashed open during fighting practice. I knew that direct pressure was my only chance at slowing down the bleeding.

It wasn’t like they were going to take me to a hospital.

To my surprise the package contained a few objects: antiseptic, sutures, and a small book with pictures explaining how to close wounds. I looked back up at my mother, not wanting to voice the question I wanted to ask.

“You have thirty minutes to sew up your wounds before we move on to poisons.” Her voice was flat, her eyes making it clear what would happen if I didn’t.

I looked down again, my eyes watering at the size of the needle. This was going to hurt.

“You will not receive any local anesthetics or narcotics to numb the pain. “ My mother continued, noting my less than enthusiastic reaction. “Pain leads to strength, seeking relief from pain is weakness. Remember that.”

She walked away, leaving me to stare daggers into her back.

One day.

One day I would take her down. Take them both down.

Sighing quietly to myself, I grabbed the kit, and prepared to sew on my thigh.

I woke up gasping in a strange room, my hand automatically reaching for the gun under my pillow, and meeting nothing but air. I struck out, my hand hitting a chest that was more like a brick wall. Panicked, I reared back to attack again.

“It’s okay, Erica! It’s me!” A familiar voice settled me enough to pause, to study my surroundings. We were in a large, open apartment, brightly lit. I was on a couch with someone sitting beside me, grasping my ankle.

It was Henry.  I let out a small sigh of relief.

“What are you doing?” He had a jar of ointment on the table beside him, was applying it to my leg.

“You had a burn from the trap that they… from the electrified floor. The captain said you wouldn’t want to go to the hospital, so when the field doctor cleared you I brought you back to my apartment.”

He seemed uncomfortable, letting go of my leg and gently placing it back on the couch.

“I would have brought you to your place so you could be in familiar surroundings but I obviously don’t know where you live and I didn’t know what else to do…Crap.” He hit his forehead. “I’m making a mess out of this.”

“What’s in the ointment.”

“It’s nothing dangerous!” He was quick to defend himself, although I really was only asking out of curiosity rather than suspicion. “It’s a pain relieving ointment for the light burns.  I didn’t want you to be hurting when you woke up!”

His open face along with his simple explanation startled me. When was the last time someone had tried to keep me from hurting, tried to take pain away instead of causing it? It didn’t take long for me to remember. It was back when we were kids and still thought we were brother and sister.

Henry always did worry whenever I got hurt.

I sat up, testing my arms and legs, mildly surprised that I felt no discomfort with the movement despite the burns from my parents’ trap.

Pain leads to strength, seeking relief from pain is weakness.

My mother’s words mocked me, but they were quickly pushed to the back of my mind with his next question.

“They said you poisoned yourself?”

I sucked in a breath, only now remembering what my parents had said before I lost consciousness.

She shouldn’t have much longer.

“They were lying right?” Henry’s face was pale, his gaze nervously looking me over as if expecting me to fall over any minute. “You aren’t dying from a poison, that was just a trick, right?”

I stared down at my hands. “What else did they tell you?”

I couldn’t remember anything after telling them I would rather die. They wouldn’t have stopped there.

“Please, Erica, please tell me they were lying.” There were tears in his eyes, but I ignored them.

“What did they want in exchange for the antidote?”

“…” His face turned blank, he avoided my gaze.

“Hen…Jarrod. What. Did. They. Want?”

A long sigh escaped him. “I wish our lives had been different.” He reached out, grabbing my unresisting hands in his own, turning them over. His thumbs rubbed across my forearms, where multiple scars from years of fighting and torture crisscrossed. “I wish I had never left. Wish I had suffered with you sometimes.”

“Jarrod…”

“Wish I had taken you with me, more.” He looked up at the ceiling, and then closed his eyes, tears escaping from the shut lids. “Wish I hadn’t been a self-centered prick who wanted to be strong before I came back. Wish I had saved you, or died trying.”

“Jarrod…”

He let go of my hands, hid his face behind his own, but tears continued to fall. “No one deserves what you’ve gone through. No one deserves to live a long happy life more than you.”

My vision blurred. Was I crying too?

“Henry…”

“You were my sister, my protector, my other half. You meant everything… still mean everything to me.” He stood up, and walked towards the door. “I won’t let you die. Not while I’m still breathing.”

I tried to call out one last time, but he was already gone.

HENRY/JARROD

I left her behind, my mind racing, feeling strangely calm despite the emotions that had threatened to overwhelm me just moments before.

I wasn’t going to fail her again.

But to pull it off, I needed a few things.

The anti-super power technology her parents wanted. A location. And to see the Captain.

First, the anti-super weapon. I sighed quietly, turning towards the Hero Assistance Unit Headquarters. 

Fortunately, being a hero had its perks. I knew a guy.

“Hey Jarrod!” 

Greg was practically jumping up and down with excitement, his hands clutching a black briefcase. “I’m so glad you called, I was worried after that raid I did went south that you wouldn’t want my help ever again!”

The raid? My forehead wrinkled as I tried to puzzle that out briefly, before realizing that I had given him a location of a base as part of Erica’s plot to unmask the mole. I thought we had contacted everyone else the next morning to clarify that the “raid” was off… but I guessed we missed someone.

Had he gone to a supervillain base all by himself?

Shrugging mentally, I decided not to ask further.

“Did you bring what I asked?”

“Of course, Jarrod! What else is the HAU for if not to assist heroes like yourself?” His groveling set my teeth on edge, made worse by what I knew he had tried to do to Erica. Of course, the moment he had tried to touch her she had put him in the ICU.

I smiled at the thought, and Greg beamed back at me, thinking I was happy about his words.

“Here it is!” He opened up the briefcase in his hands. “The Anti-super power gun! VSU had been working on the technology for a while now, but HAU took over since the VSU is just small time agents anyways.” He snorted loudly, apparently forgetting that he had once been part of the Villain Suppression Unit and had been kicked out for sexual harassment.

I checked the weapon, a sleek, silver appearing gun. The muzzle was oddly shaped. “Does it shoot bullets?”

“Nope! It shoots a dart, that injects the anti-super power serum.” He pointed to the small box of ammo. “It is made to look almost exactly like the HAU stun dart weapon, so you need to be careful..” He laughed loudly. “Don’t want to accidentally shoot someone with one of these puppies instead of a stun dart or something.”

I looked at the dart closely, with a morbid fascination. “Is there an antidote for the anti-super power serum?”

“They’ve been working on it, but no luck so far!” Greg paused, seeming slightly uncomfortable for the first time. “Hey, Jarrod? What are you going to use this for? I can take it out of the HAU because I’m on the security team, but it needs to be back in 24 hours.”

I snapped the briefcase closed, smiling brightly. “No worries. That’s plenty of time.”

Leaving him behind, my hand tightly clutching the handle of the briefcase, I moved on, a plan forming in my mind.

I had the weapon.

All I needed was a way to contact the Shadow Couple.

Which meant I needed to have a little talk with my younger brother.

 “What do you want?” 

My brother looked tired, as he eyed me with suspicion. We were in a private visiting room, another perk to being a super-hero. I guess even with Michael’s powers of invisibility and speed they didn’t think he could get past me to escape.

Which worked for me. I wanted the privacy.

“I’ve given up on asking you why you never helped Erica, a little girl who was suffering.” I sighed as I leaned back in my chair. “At first I thought maybe you were scared. You didn’t want to tell me my ‘sister’ was being hurt. I even thought that maybe the Shadow Couple captured you as a child and forced you to work on their side.”

“…” Michael warily said nothing. I continued on as if talking to myself.

“But then, I thought back to all our ‘training fights’ before I regained my powers. Back to how mom and dad treated you like glass once I was stronger than you. How I was ‘the weakling’ when I couldn’t beat you, but I was ‘a bully’ once I could… All of that started to make sense, and I came to a conclusion.”

I leaned forward, a slight smile on my face.

“You are a coward. A coward who enjoys watching people weaker than you suffer.”

“ You son of a…” Michael’s face contorted with rage, he reached towards me, only to break off on a squeal of pain as I grabbed his hand in my own. I squeezed until the bones started fracturing into multiple pieces.

“It hurts, doesn’t it? It hurt me when you broke my bones too. All those ‘training accidents’ when we were kids. You were quite a sadistic little bastard.”

Michael tried to pull his hand away, his face pale and sweating with the pain.

“I forgive you though. We were kids. Our parents enabled you, taught you to bully the weak and cower before the strong. A strange lesson for a super hero, but I don’t really think any of family qualify for a term like ‘hero.’”

“If you forgive me, then let go…” He forced the words out with a groan of agony.

I tightened my hand instead, feeling a few more satisfying cracks. “I forgive you for what you did to me. What you did to Erica on the other hand…”

“PLEASE!”

“I’ll stop when you tell me how to contact the Shadow Couple.”  I grinned as he shook his head slightly and shifted my grip to hold more of his hand. “Otherwise I’ll break every bone in your hand one by one, and then move onto the next. You’re in with a hero, no one will even bother to check on you. We can be here for a very, very long time.”

My smile turned bitter as he quickly spit out a number that would reach them.

“See, that wasn’t so hard.”

I fired my weapon under the table.

He leaned forward with a groan as the dart struck Michael in the stomach.

“What did you…?”

I quickly put the weapon back in the hidden holster under my pant leg. Slightly dismayed but relieved at how easily I had snuck it past security, I leaned over the table, reaching out to remove the dart and stored that as well.

“That was the ‘anti-super power weapon’ the Shadow Couple is looking for.” I smiled. “I thought I would test it out before handing it over.

Michael shook his head. “ARE YOU CRAZY! You can’t give them technology like this! They’ll destroy everything!”

I raised an eyebrow. “So its okay for you to help them for money, but not okay for me to help them to save someone’s life?”

“Save… “ He trailed off, his eyes narrowing. “You’re doing it for that bit…” I pushed the table lightly, and it flew into his stomach, cutting off his words.

“Don’t worry about the world, brother dearest. You have much bigger problems.” I stood up, straightening out my jacket with a casual motion.

“I’ve arranged for you to be transferred.”

Michael mouthed a single word. Where.

“Blood Row.” I smiled as his eyes grew wide.

Blood Row. The most notorious layer of prison for the worst kind of criminals. The kind that hated heroes the most.

“Don’t worry, they are well aware that you were working for the Shadow Couple… and betrayed them to get a better deal. You should fit in nicely there. Especially now that your powers are gone.”

I turned towards the door and knocked, waiting for it to open.

“Wait!” His voice cracked on the word. I turned back towards him with a small hint of curiosity.

“Blood row is… death sentence… please… I’m your brother.” He was struggling to talk after the blow from the table but he pushed on, his face desperate.

I watched him silently for a few moments.  “Sorry, I’ve come to the realization that despite being a superhero, I’m not all powerful. I can only protect one person. And she deserves it a hell of a lot more than you.”

The door opened, and I walked out.

“WAAAIT!”

I didn’t turn back again.

ERICA

“Where is he?!” I slammed my fists on the Captain’s desk.

He raised an eyebrow, looking up at me with a sarcastic grin. “Hello to you too.”

“Cut the crap, Captain.” I was not in the mood to joke. “I’ve been following Hen… Jarrod’s tracks all day. He stopped by the HAU, picked something up. He stopped by the prison and saw his brother, and then he came here. What did he tell you?”

“Would you believe it if I said he didn’t tell me anything?”

“No.”

He sighed. “Yeah, I wouldn’t either.” He looked me in the eye. “He told me the truth. About the poison.”

I sank down into a nearby chair. “Crap.”

“Yeah.” He glared at me. “Were you ever going to tell me that you were dying?”

I shrugged. “Probably not.”

“Great.”

“At least I’m honest.”

“In some ways, I guess.” He leaned back, rubbing his temples with his fingers. “Is this why you’ve been so desperate to put away as many villains as possible these last few years?”

I waved a hand dismissively. “We can pick apart my psychological motivations at a later date. I want to know where he is right now.”

“I don’t know.” He held up a finger, stopping me before I could argue. “And that IS the truth. He wouldn’t tell me where he was going, wouldn’t risk his plan going off course.”

My stomach dropped. “What is his plan?”

“Here.” He handed me a letter. “Everything he told me should be in here.”

I opened it with trembling fingers, scanning over the contents quickly before tearing it in half.

“We have to stop him.”

“It’s too late.” The captain sighed. “By the time he had come to talk to me, he had already sealed his fate. There was nothing I could do but let him try to save you.”

I laughed, but it sounded more like a sob as it caught in my chest. “It won’t work. They’ll kill him.”

He nodded. “They might.”

“Why didn’t you stop him?”

“Because I couldn’t.”

“You wouldn’t.”

He shrugged. “Maybe so. He and I happen to agree on something, though.”

“What?”

“That you’re worth saving.”

I stood up, my feet unsteady. “And if I tell you I’m not going to let him die?”

He clapped my shoulder, handing me a tracking device. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

I walked out of the office, one thought and one thought only dominating my mind.

I would save him.

HENRY/ JARROD

“That didn’t take long.” The woman I had once thought was my mother smiled with the slightest hint of exasperation.

I didn’t smile back. I simply clutched the black case tighter. “She doesn’t have long. I wouldn’t waste time.”

“Honestly,” The man sighed, turning to his wife. “If we’d known it was so easy to get a hold of this technology… I feel like we wasted years of planning.”

She patted his shoulder. “It’s fine dear, what matters is that we win in the end.”

Turning on a device in her hand, her smile widened when it beeped and flashed green. “You didn’t lie and came alone. I’m impressed.”

I shrugged. “I won’t risk her not getting the antidote.”

“Indeed. Then I assume you brought the anti-super power device?”

I nodded, holding up the briefcase. “Here.”

The woman’s eyes narrowed. “You open it.”

I set the case on the ground, opening the lid to reveal the dart gun and ammo.

He smiled. “Looks good so far.” He sighed. “Take the gun out slowly and hand it to me.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Do you really think I trapped the case?”

“I trust no one.”

“I won’t risk Erica not getting the antidote.”

“So you’ve said. Take out the weapon. Slowly.”

I lifted the weapon by the muzzle, pointing it at myself and handing it handle first to the man. He grasped it, his hand tightening around it with a satisfied expression.

“And the ammo next.”

I lifted the case of darts, handing it to the woman. She lifted one out, studying it closely. “Such a powerful little weapon, in such a little dart.”

“Will you give her the antidote now?” My voice sounded weak, defeated.

She raised an eyebrow. “Not so fast. How do we know you didn’t give us something fake?” She handed it to her husband who loaded the dart into the gun.

“I didn’t…”

“I know, I know… you wouldn’t risk her not getting the antidote, blah blah blah.” The man pointed the gun at me with a smile. “Only one way to find out.”

The dart hit my arm. I pulled it out with a groan. They both studied me a moment.

“Did it work?”

“How could we tell? It’s not like there would be a flash of light or something to say he’s lost his powers.”

The woman chuckled. “I have an idea.”

I fell to the ground, A knife in my left chest.

“Nice throw, Honey!”

“Thanks!” She stepped closer, looking at me closely. Reaching down, she slowly pulled the knife out. “It’s not specially coated like the anti-super darts. If he still had his powers it shouldn’t have penetrated his skin so easily.”

“He lost his powers?” The man whistled. “What a fool. He gave us exactly what we asked for.”

I curled up in a ball on the ground, my hands clutching the bleeding wound in my chest. I was having trouble breathing, was my lung collapsed?

“An-Antidote…”

The man rolled his eyes. “So persistent. But we did make a promise.” Pressing a button on his belt, a screen behind him turned on. It was live security camera footage, showing the front lobby of the VSU. A man dropped a package off at the front desk dressed as a courier, before turning and walking out with a quick wink to the camera. “There. The antidote is delivered to her doorstep. Beyond our reach.” He smiled. “Congratulations. You saved her. Just like you wanted.”

The woman leaned over me, using her foot to turn me onto my back. “Want to know a real kicker of a secret though?” Her grin was vicious. “We would have saved her either way.”

“Of course.”

“We love our daughter.”

“She’s to inherit the family business after all.”

“Hopefully she’ll be more inclined with you having betrayed her.”

“And dead.” The man laughed. “Don’t forget he’ll be very much dead by the time she finds him.”

They both pull out knives, one clean, one already slick with my blood, and moved forward.

“Fast or slow?”

“Better be fast, we have work to do with this special weapon.” He patted the dart gun at his side.

... 

It was done.

I couldn’t help it. I started to laugh, so hard that I started coughing up blood.  

The woman paused, disconcerted. “What’s so funny?”

“You think you have the anti-super power weapon.” I chuckled, spitting to clear my mouth before continuing. “You think I would betray her?”

The man shook his head. “You’ve obviously lost your powers, don’t lie to us.”

I grinned, feeling a wet pool start to form beneath me. “Shot myself with the REAL anti-super weapon before I came. You only have blanks.”

The woman’s face contorted as she reared back, kicking me. “YOU’RE LYING!”

“Even an idiot like me knew you would test out the weapon. My bet was that your first target would be me.” I leaned back my head on the ground, exhausted. “Turns out I was right.”

“So we gave up the antidote for nothing?” The man sighed. “Well, we were going to cure her anyways.”

“How disappointing.”

“Let’s kill him anyways before we leave, so we haven’t wasted the trip.” She leaned over with her knife… I closed my eyes, resigned. 

“HOLD IT!” 

A loud voice called out. A familiar voice.  My eyes shot open again.

“Erica…”“SWEETIE!” 

The woman called out as the same time as me, opening her eyes wide. “How long have you been there?”

She stepped forward, her armor and weapons gleaming in the florescent lighting of the villains hideout. “Not long.”

“You missed it, dear. We mailed the antidote to the VSU! You’re saved!”

The man shook his head. “But your dear old brother betrayed you.” He lifted the dart gun in his hand. “Gave us anti-super technology.”

I looked over at Erica, wondering if she had seen my letter. She met my eyes briefly, and then looked up. “Is that so?”

“Yes of course. What a disappointment he is. So weak.” The woman reached out to touch her. “You should join us, dear. You belong with your family.”

Erica smiled. “You’re right. I do.”

With that, she kicked her mother across the room.

BAM! She hit a wall of computers, sliding to the floor with a groan.

The man sighed. “You never learn.”

“No.” Erica’s smile only grew wider. “You two are the ones who never learn. Falling for the same trick twice.”

“What do you...?” Mid-sentence, the two collapsed on the ground, unable to stand or move. I sighed with relief as Erica stepped closer, helping me to my feet.

“You’re an idiot.”

“That poison took longer than I thought.”

She glanced at her parents with a sigh. “The same poison I used all those years ago. I can’t believe the Captain let you have the only sample. Where did you put it? On the dart gun?”

I grinned. “No, on the darts. I didn’t want to touch it myself.”

“You would have died if I hadn’t made it on time.”

I started to laugh, and then groaned as the action aggravated the wound in my chest. “I guess I owe you another coffee for saving my life.”

“And don’t you forget it.” She walked towards the Shadow Couple, her feet slowing as she neared them. I wasn’t sure what she was about to do, but unsurprisingly, I found i didn’t care.

“I won’t say anything, no matter what.” I meant it. She could hurt them; kill them. After what they had done to her, I would look the other way.

She grinned at me. “Good to know I’m a bad influence on you.” Leaning over, she injected something in each of their arms.

“It’s a capsule.” She informed them seriously. “Contains a deadly poison. Set only to release if I press a button.”

“….” They stared at her in shock.

“Don’t worry, I won’t push it… as long as you stay nicely in prison where you belong. Understand what will happen if you escape again?”

She spread her hands helplessly, then turned to grab me as I swayed on my feet, almost falling.

“Let’s get you to the hospital.”

“What about…” I tilted my head towards the temporarily paralyzed couple.

“My team’s got it. They’re just cleaning up the rest of the gang I took out on my way in.”

“Did I ever tell you that you’re a total badass?”

She smiled. “Oh, don’t worry, I know.”

The VSU streamed in, packing away the shadow couple as the world started spinning around me.

“Could you stay awake, Henry?” Her voice was slightly panicked. “I can’t carry you alone.”

“Sorry I guess I’m a deadweight…” I started to apologize and then the world faded into darkness.

ERICA

“Why did you want to talk to me?” I asked, sipping on the office coffee and then setting it down, making a face at the bitter taste.

The captain sighed loudly. “For once in your life, would it kill you to treat me with the respect due a superior officer?”

I considered it carefully. “Yes. It might actually kill me.”

“I should fire you.” He grumbled.

“You won’t.”

“You’re right, I won’t. Dammit.”

Shaking his head slowly, he leaned back in his chair. “I called you in here because you’re being assigned a new partner.”

SLAM!

I had been in the process of putting my feet up on his desk, and they slammed down on the floor as I sat up in shock. “Wait! I’m working with the HAU liaison, remember?”

“I remember, even if you’ve conveniently forgotten that you were the one who protested loudly and frequently about ‘babysitting a tights-wearing goodie two shoes.’ As you so eloquently put it.”

“Still, you overruled my objections and teamed us up. So I can’t have a new partner.” I smirked.

“You have to, since the liaison position has been terminated. “

“No. No, Henry is the liaison.”

The Captain frowned. “Jarrod was the liaison. He has since resigned. You are working with VSU’s newest recruit.”

I blinked in shock. Why hadn’t he told me? I had been to the hospital every day while he recovered, but he had been discharged two weeks ago, and hadn’t contacted me since. Just as I was starting to plan all sorts of vaguely sinister plans for getting back at him for quitting being the liaison without telling me, a knock at the door caught my attention.

“That must be your new partner now.” The captain gestured towards the door. “Could you let him in? His hands are probably full.”

What did that mean? I groaned and stood up, making sure my face had been configured into my best glare before opening the door. But as i saw who stood behind it, my jaw dropped.

“Henry.”

He stood in the doorway, precariously balancing three coffees in his hands. “Erica” Henry grinned, the expression causing me to smile back unconsciously. “A little help?”

He handed me a cup, holding the other two more securely with a sigh of relief. “That one’s yours. Black, sugar, no cream.”  He placed another one on the desk. “Captain. Triple espresso, and don’t you dare tell your wife I’m getting this for you. She’s terrifying.”

The captain drained the steaming hot coffee in one gulp, as if daring it to try to burn his mouth. “Almost strong enough.”

“And my perfectly normal drink.” He sipped at it quietly, I noticed he kept a lid on it.

“You ordered extra sprinkles again, didn’t you?”

“No comment.” We laughed.

As we all sat down, I studied him carefully. “So you’re the new recruit to the VSU?”

“That’s right.”

“What about hero work?”

He shrugged helplessly. “Well, for now, I’m powerless, thanks to the anti-super power serum. They’re working on an antidote, but who knows if or when I’ll get my powers back.”

I glared at him. “It’s all your fault you lost your powers.”

“Worth it.” He was unrepentant.  “But until then, I’d like to work where I could do the most good.” He held out a hand. “As the partner of the best agent the VSU’s got.”

The captain snorted quietly, but I ignored him. Instead, I studied the hand in front of me, thinking back to a time he had made a similar gesture in this office and had been ignored.

I had grown up learning to never trust anyone, especially heroes.

But looking at the idiot who risked his life just to get an antidote for me, I thought that I might be ready for something new.

I might be ready to have someone watching my back.

I reached out, and took his hand, shaking it firmly. Henry’s face lit up with a bright happy smile.

“Let’s do it.”

“Good. Now sit down!” The captain yelled, obviously uncomfortable with the emotion in the room. “I have your next assignment, and I would appreciate it if you could do it without remodeling the villain lair using the unconscious bodies of the henchmen like last time… not that I’m naming names… Erica.”

Laughing, we took down the information, and headed out of the VSU headquarters, walking side by side.

Teammates.

Partners.

Family. 

[canadian-riddler]

Borderlands: Cat-trap

By Indiana

Synopsis: Claptrap has some special, special friends.  With credit to @hugsforvillains 

 Claptrap had, at some point in time, acquired a great deal of kittens.

  … or perhaps he only had two or three (or maybe four), and it simply seemed as though he had a great deal of them.  The furry little things seemed to be everywhere.  When Claptrap was around, you were guaranteed to find a kitten someplace you didn’t want one. Or, at least, a great deal of cat hair. And pee.  There was a lot of that too.

Yes, those kittens seemed to think Claptrap was some sort of metallic and very thoughtlessly shaped cat tree.  Not that he made any indication he cared.  No, Claptrap was apparently quite content to stand there with his arms out, letting the cats crawl all over him like some sort of massive, noisy caterpillars.  The upside was that when he was talking, he was talking mostly to the cats.  The downside was that he didn’t see proceeding with life as usual covered in cats as a problem.  Whenever somebody brought it up, his go-to response was, “But they’re so cuuuuuute!”, which he said whilst holding out a squirming cat, following it up with, “C’mon, pet him!”

Well, the goal of getting rid of them was just a lost cause when there was a double handful of soft and tiny kitty in front of one’s face.

There was honestly no getting away from those cats.  They were underfoot, over-foot, and on-top-of-lap.  Claptrap, having no grasp of any kind of boundaries himself, had obviously not attempted to curb their behaviour in any way whatsoever.  “Claptrap,” asked Moxxi rhetorically, removing a kitten from the beer pitcher she had found it in, “is this yours?”

“Captain Sexyboy!” crowed Claptrap, throwing his arms in the air whilst simultaneously not moving to accept the cat.  “I have been looking all over for you!”

“You named your cat Captain Sexyboy?” Moxxi asked, squinting into the pitcher, taking note of the voluminous collection of cat hair, and then electing to pour the draft into it anyway.

“Well, duh,” Claptrap said, ignoring the animal as it jumped off the bar and onto the counter holding the moderately impressive collection of mismatched glasses and tumblers. “Look at how sexy he is! He’s gonna have so many kids when he grows up.”

All Moxxi saw was a cat enthusiastically making a mess of her clean(ish) glasses, but she obviously didn’t know anything, as Captain Sexyboy was indeed very handsome.

Eventually (to everyone’s immense relief) the cats gradually tagged along with Claptrap less and less. Which meant (to everyone’s immense chagrin) that Claptrap went back to talking to them instead of the cats. And that, if you didn’t know, is one of the most unacceptable forms of torture listed in the Geneva Convention, right up there with waterboarding and sensory deprivation.  The latter, of course, being far preferable to whatever noise Claptrap happened to be making on any given day.

At some point he had acquired a very deep gouge in his chassis (which had conveniently managed not to sever anything important (if there was indeed anything important in there to sever)), but nobody knew where he’d gotten it from or when.  Not because he hadn’t told them all several times each, but because nobody cared.  Until Hammerlock, damn his insatiable curiosity about the beasts of Pandora, actually did ask him about it.  Everyone in their vicinity knew that was a terrible, terrible mistake and immediately chugged whatever drink they had in front of them in the hopes of ushering in the blanks of memory infallibly produced by excessive amounts of alcohol.

“It’s those cats,” Claptrap lamented unnecessarily loudly, waving one hand over what he thought was a drink but what was actually a cup of whatever was dripping out from under the dishwasher.  “They just do not understand they’re too big to climb on me!”

“Oh, my dear boy,” Hammerlock said, too polite to withhold a response even though he really should have at least tried, “they understand. But if you thought they would care, well, that’s where you’re gravely mistaken.”

“They just are not good listeners!” continued Claptrap ironically.  

“I see,” said Hammerlock, wishing fervently he had not started this conversation.  This wish followed him for the rest of the day.  Mostly because Claptrap followed him for the rest of the day.

Claptrap continued telling outrageous stories about the cats, from things such as, “They keep thinking I’m some kinda toy!  Who would think that, right?” to, “One ‘a them ruined Brick’s garden, but you guys’ll keep that to yourselves, right?” and concluding with, “They ran off into the desert to live their lives without meeee!”  This last one was accompanied by hysterical sobbing, which might have garnered him more sympathy if he hadn’t done the same thing the day before when someone changed the song on the jukebox before his had ended.

“Moxxi!” Claptrap hollered as he entered the bar one afternoon, causing several patrons to scramble for the exit complete with chair-tossing, drink-spilling, and table-overturning. At least one of them was skipping out on his bill, for which he would probably be catching a bullet in the head for. “The things I have seen today!”

Moxxi rolled her eyes and, because she was out of dishwasher juice, provided him with the sludge that was coming out of the bottom of the sink.  What she gave him turned out not to matter, because as soon as he got up on the barstool he waved his hand dramatically and it flung the foul mixture across the bar, which of course hit some poor bastard in the face. Unfortunately, he was far bigger and stronger than Claptrap.  Fortunately, he had fallen fast asleep in a puddle of his lite beer some time ago. That’s what happens when your bartender doesn’t cut people off.

“I couldn’t believe my eye!” Claptrap shouted to no one in particular.  “They ate him!”

“What?” asked the man next to him, merely because he was drunk enough he couldn’t shut up.  Claptrap immediately turned to face him.

“Phantom of the Opera!” he explained, leaning over far enough a few people began to hope he’d fall off the barstool.  It wouldn’t stop him talking, but it would be funny.  “They just tore inta him!  Ripped him apart like he was an imitation condom!  It was… it was… well, it was pretty cool, actually.  I was gonna say I was horrified, and I was, while it was happening, but now I’m thinkin’ about it… yeah!  It was pretty lit!”

“You named – you know the Phantom of the Opera had a name, right?” the man asked in exasperation, as he happened to be a massive theatre snob and had memorised everything about every Phantom production that had ever been made.  And if you thought there were a lot where you come from, well, you haven’t seen Phantom performed solely with live skags, have you?

“Of course I do!” Claptrap somehow snorted, because he, too, happened to be a massive theatre snob who had memorised everything about every Phantom production that had ever been made, including the one that was performed solely with live skags. “I just liked the name Phantom of the Opera better!”

If Claptrap had been any other person, the man would have smashed his glass over Claptrap’s head and left.  Since that would have absolutely no effect, he smashed it over the head of the person on his other side instead.  That was how Claptrap started his eighty-ninth bar fight, despite not actually fighting anybody.  That got Claptrap kicked out of Moxxi’s for the hundred and seventy-fourth time, despite his protests that he’d done nothing wrong.  Surprisingly, he hadn’t, but that had never mattered before and so it absolutely wouldn’t now nor any other time in the future.

As they often did, a bandit spotted Claptrap rolling obliviously along through the dust by himself.  And again, as they often did, he decided now was a good time to put the robot out of his misery.  Wait, no.  To put everyone else out of their misery.  From having to put up with him.  Because he’s – yes.  Moving on.

The bandit sauntered across the dirt, both hands holding a shotgun that was mostly built out of other, discarded, crappier shotguns, and thought about what he might like to do with Claptrap once he’d caught up with him.  The bandit was both too stupid and too ignorant (mostly ignorant) to know quite why the little robot reacted to even extremely unpleasant experiences such as being set on fire and electrocuted with exuberant good cheer, but he didn’t really need to know.  All he needed to know was that it was pretty funny.  He was cool with just knowing that.

As he ambled along he pondered just how he would do it.  He could always shoot him, of course, but then there was the risk that he would ruin something important and then Claptrap would die, and that wouldn’t be worth his time.  He could try demanding the robot turn himself off, which he would probably agree to do, but then the bandit would have to drag what looked to be a very heavy robot back to camp, and that just didn’t sound like fun.  He decided that his best bet would be simply to ask him to come along.  From what he’d heard, the stupid thing would probably do it, too.  And he’d heard right, unfortunately.  

“Hello, Claptrap,” the bandit announced, in a voice that he probably thought sounded friendly and welcoming, but really sounded like that obnoxious stranger who opens their screen door on Halloween and thinks it’s clever to hand out boxes containing about eight sour raisins or pint-sized toothbrushes with bristles that make it feel like you’re sucking on a soggy, fuzzy hairbrush.  “Where are you headed?”

“Good day, gentle sir!” returned Claptrap, who had never been trick-or-treating and so had no idea what voice the bandit was using.  “I’m searching for my friend!  He’s around here somewhere, but you know how friends are.  Always running off on you!”

The bandit stifled a laugh and a gleeful smile.  Or at least, he thought he did.  He actually looked mildly like he had been holding his breath for a very long time in a strange attempt to impress someone.  A woman, probably.  Or perhaps a man.  Or possibly himself in the mirror.  “Friends?” the bandit said, in a way that conjured up visions of screaming doormats and someone sitting in a rocking chair on their porch breathing very slowly into a Darth Vader mask in the minds of everyone within a one-hundred kilometre radius, excluding Claptrap.  “Why, what a coincidence!  I got lots of friends back where I’m going!”

“Really?” Claptrap asked, jumping and spinning around about ninety degrees which, if you didn’t know, is very impressive for a robot that clumsy.  “Lots of friends, you say?”

“Oh yes,” the bandit nodded. “If lots were a number, that’s how many friends I’d have waiting!”

“Ooh!”  Claptrap rubbed his flat little hands together, which produced the exact noise a violin makes when someone who has never played it before believes they are in fact in the beginnings of the next great concerto. “Hey, if we’re all getting our friends together, mind if I bring my friend along?  It won’t take long!  He’ll be here any minute!”

“Of course,” the bandit replied, because he did not for one second believe Claptrap had a single friend in all the universe.  Even rust seemed to be avoiding him, somehow.  Even the organic process of oxidising metal couldn’t stand Claptrap!  The bandit thought he was clever for knowing this information, which he was, but only because of the company he was with at the moment.  The company in question raised himself as high as possible, cupped his hands around the mouth he didn’t have, and hollered so loudly he disturbed a nest of rakks about two hundred kilometres away, “Mrs Fluffers!”

Yeah.  The friend definitely did not exist.

That was when the eclipse happened.

The reason I didn’t tell you there was an impending eclipse was because it didn’t make it into the weather forecast.  It hadn’t been predicted by any satellites, or meteorologists, and even the prerequisite crazy-haired man with the apocalypse sign was pretty sure the end of the world wasn’t nigh until at least next week.  And that was because it wasn’t really an eclipse.

The bandit looked toward the shadow blocking out the sun, and then he looked up.  And up.  And up farther.  So far that his jaw kind of fell open without his permission.  He honestly wished that the predicted fire and brimstone would happen right now, or at least that there really had been an unexpected eclipse, because Claptrap did have a friend.  The very worst kind of friend, in fact.

This friend was some massive, unholy beast.  It was covered head to whip-like tail in mangy orange fur, sported ears that resembled Swiss cheese, had four-foot fangs bordered by an expansive tangle of eight-foot whiskers, and eyes that were definitely being used by the soul of some hellspawn to scare the everloving shit out of him.

It worked.  Both literally and figuratively.  

Most bandits, this one included, prided themselves on being tough-as-nails badasses that would go up against a Vault Hunter with their bare hands.  A high percentage of them would even actually do that.  So when I tell you that this beast was terrifying enough to make this man turn around, hitch up his freshly soiled pants, and run screaming back to the hive of scum and villainy from whence he came, you know it was pretty darn scary.

“Oh, Mrs Fluffers,” lamented Claptrap, looking sadly at the tire tracks he’d made in the dirt, “I just don’t understand it!  Every time I bring someone to meet you, they piss themselves and run away!  They don’t even try to get to know you. Rude!”

Mrs Fluffers purred quietly, which only caused one or two minor rockslides.  Claptrap petted an area on his leg approximately the size of the cat’s toe and held his other hand up thoughtfully beneath his eye.  He had a surprisingly wide range of facial expressions given that he didn’t have a face.  “Well,” he said finally, straightening, “I guess he’s just gonna have to come to your place!”

Mrs Fluffers licked his shoulder, which would make it a good time to mention said shoulder was matted down with a thick layer of some dark, hardened substance.  Blood.  It was blood.

“Mrs Fluffers!” Claptrap shouted up in the direction of the cat’s very distant ear.  “Invite him over already, willya!?”

Mrs Fluffers gave a meow that would have only been about seventy-five decibels if anyone had been measuring (which no one was) and looked over in the direction of the fleeing bandit with mild interest. He didn’t care very much for the bandit, but he was holding something that glinted temptingly in the blazing sun…

“Finally,” groused Claptrap as the cat ambled to his feet and collected the bandit, who had not even managed to run the length of the animal.  Mrs Fluffers contained the hapless idiot inside of his teeth with remarkable gentility and turned to face his beloved master again.

“Hooray!” Claptrap shouted, jumping up and down with his arms in the air.  He actually had impressive height for someone with a suspension that old.  “Oh boy!  Mrs Fluffers, try an’ take care of him until we get back, huh?  You always wreck ‘em before Jerry gets to meet ‘em.”

“Who’s Jerry?” sobbed the bandit, whose bladder tried and failed to empty itself a second time. Claptrap spun around and continued rolling forward.  But backward. Forward but backward.  Like his life as a whole.

“Oh, you’ll like Jerry,” Claptrap said enthusiastically.  “He loves playing.  But he’s shy! So we gotta bring him people to play with!  Or we would,” and the robot paused here to fold his arms indignantly, “if Mrs Fluffers here didn’t hog all the friends.”

“I don’t want to play with Jerry!”

“Oh, you,” scoffed Claptrap, waving one hand in airy dismissal, “you haven’t even met him yet!  You really should get to meet people before you write ‘em off, y’know.”  And he hopped in an attempt to spin himself front-facing again, which he was very successful at doing.  What he was also very successful at doing was falling down.  “Gingersnaps!” he yelled into the dirt, because he was only allowed to use K-rated profanity (and even that was pushing it), and Mrs Fluffers immediately dropped the bandit, to his immense relief.  That was, until about five seconds later when he hit the ground and broke his leg in at least three places.  At least.

He was too busy screaming and staring with comically bulging eyes at the brand-new configuration his leg was now in to look over and see that Mrs Fluffers had ‘helped’ Claptrap by batting at his chassis as though he were some tiny prey to be joyfully toyed with. “Now, now,” Claptrap was saying (which the bandit also wasn’t listening to, since he was screaming so loudly).  “We have talked about this, young man!”

Mrs Fluffers proceeded to drag his tongue, the size of which rivalled a full-sized van, up Claptrap’s chassis so hard it actually stood him back up again.  It also removed an impressively-sized stripe of years-old dirt, which revealed that Claptrap had once been quite a different, but still obnoxious, shade of yellow.  “Thanks bunches!” Claptrap said.  “Now, you wanna help our – oh, crap.  You broke him!  It’s gonna be real hard for Jerry to play with him now.”

The cat retrieved the sobbing bandit and deposited him in front of Claptrap, who smacked himself in the eye with the palm of his hand solely because he didn’t have a forehead to smack.  “No!  I don’t want him!  He’s for Jerry!”

Mrs Fluffers looked expectantly down at Claptrap, bony tail sweeping the dirt in such great swaths he was probably unburying some long-forgotten skeletons.  Claptrap sighed and turned around.

“Come on,” he said, rolling onward.  “I don’t wanna hang out here all day.  There’s scary monsters around, y’know?”

Mrs Fluffers purred.

  Author’s note

hugsforvillains suggested that the cats of Pandora grow up to be vicious beasts. Usually I just said cats didn’t exist on Pandora anymore.  

One of the people I know from work came up with the name Captain Sexyboy.  For himself.  He calls himself that.

This is also on AO3 and FFN, but no linkies allowed.

[thewildwaffle]

Abduction - Chapter 6

Yes, you read right. Chapter 6. In that this is the 6th part of this story. In that there are 5 chapters before this one. If this is the first you’ve seen of my “Humans are weird/space orcs” story, click below and read the previous chapters. It’ll make more sense that way, I promise!

First Chapter     Previous Chapter       Next Chapter

“I swear, I was just popping my knuckles. I’m fine. Can you stop touching me?”

Mike almost laughed, but he caught himself and hid his smile. It was funny, but not funny enough to risk Wenona getting mad at him. Gerben had nearly lost it after he heard the series of popping noises coming from her when she got up after a routine health check.

“Are you certain nothing’s broken?” Gerben still had Wenona’s hands in his long fingers, inspecting them for signs of injury. “Perhaps the pain hasn’t registered with you yet?”

“I’m fine. I am, I swear, just give me back my hand.” Gerben gave the hands one last look over before releasing them enough for Wenona to yank them back.

“Don’t worry, Gerben, it happens all the time, totally harmless,” Mike jumped in before either Wenona or the medic could say anything else. “People do it all the time. Well, uh, human people do it all the time, see?” He popped his knuckles as a demonstration. “It’s just tiny pockets of gas escaping the joints and stuff. It’s healthy.”

The look on Gerben’s feathered face looked less than convinced.

“I can pop my back too if you want to see.” “Please. Don’t.”

Of the two medics, Mike had quickly decided that he prefered Demfar. That guy was one inquisitive and easy-to-impress space-squid. Though he did like Gerben too. It was a different kind of like. Gerben was fun to get a rise or reaction out of every time some new “human thing” was discovered. Popping joints was just the latest on a long, long list that made Gerben’s face scrunch up in funny shapes.

“A-herm.”

All eyes turned toward the sound.

“Jebannuck! You’re early.” Mike thought he heard the slightest hint of relief in Gerben’s voice.

“Jeb! What is up my dude!”

“Are the humans ready?” He ignored Mike’s greeting while he stepped into the room and folded his arms across his chest. Mike hadn’t known him long, a few days, maybe a week. Had it been a week? It’s hard to keep track of time with everything that had been going on. Go figure. But in the time he’d known Jebannuck - however long it’d been -  he could tell he was a bit of a stickler for proper procedures.

“We’re going to be getting something to eat first, right? Before we meet with Salora?” Wenona chimed in.

“That’s Captain Salora. And yes. We’ll be stopping in the cafeteria  before I escort you to the bridge.”

“Sweet. What are we waiting for, let’s go!” Mike stretched his arms over his head. A few pops from his shoulders made Gerben wince. “Oops! Sorry bud, see ya later!”

They’d been to the cafeteria a few times now. Twice a “day” cycle, or whatever. It was always fun. Not the first time, though. It was a little freaky, actually. Their escort, who was usually Jebannuck, tried to time visits when it wasn’t very busy. There was always someone though.

He felt a lot more convinced that no one here meant any harm as soon as he found out that none of the aliens on the ship even slightly resembled a Montauk. With that established, it became something of an adventure to meet as many members of the crew as he could.

Pretty much everyone acted SUPER nice and curious about their new human passengers, and, well, they acted the same way most humans would if the roles were reversed. Mike, thoroughly enjoying himself, tried to meet and remember as many new (sometimes strange-sounding) named aliens as he could get within earshot of. Wenona, on the other hand, had been less excited by the attention. Jebannuck, and sometimes Ghem-et if he was there, did his best to divert crewmates from crowding the humans. Mike noticed that Wenona usually stayed pretty close to Jebannuck’s side whenever there were too many aliens around.

It wasn’t often though. Captain Salora, the medics, and their escorts had all proved very adept at making sure the humans were given plenty of space. But Mike could tell there were a few on the crew that were chomping at the bit to get in a little closer with their new passengers.

In fact, here came that orange furball now.

“Greetings Human Wenona, Human Michael! How fortunate that our paths cross!”

Jebannuck raised his brows. “I thought you were in the hospital wing, Thurrin. Feeling much better already, are we?”

“What? Oh. Yeah, I am, actually. Must have just been in need of a good stroll. Cleared my head right up!”

“Is that why we always saw you sneaking around outside the medic bay? It’s great to finally officially meet you, I’m Mike.” He held out his hand.

Thurrin tilted her head at the human’s gesture, before reaching out and patting Mike’s fingers a few times. “Good to meet you Mike, I’m Thurrin from the planet Bernor.”

“Thurrin, I thought I’d made myself clear that you, and the rest of the crew, were to not crowd the humans.”

“Aww, come on man,” Mike interjected, “We’re on a ship full of creatures from other planets and yet we’re lonely,” Mike bent backwards as they walked to add drama, earning a surprised and somewhat worried look from Jebannuck’s, and a giggle from Thurrin. “Or at least I am. We never really get to meet or interact, ya know? I don’t mean that you’re not great to hang out with, Jeb, but I’d really like to get to know more, uh, people”

“My name is Jebannuck, not Jeb.”

Thurrin led them to a nearby bench and table and quickly laid claim to her favorite cushion, “Humans are social creatures, they need to pack bond. Eepereep told me so.”

“And what about you, since when were booka so social?” “We can be social when we want to. And on top of that, we’re inherently curious by nature.” “Curious? Or just nosy?”

Thurrin gave a pouting look at Jebannuck, the fur on the back of her neck flickered a dark shade of red.

Wenona gave a small chuckle, “What a grumpy kitty,” and reached out to scratch Thurrin’s ears. Everyone froze. Wenona pulled her hand back. “Oh, I… I’m sorry. Oh my gosh, I wasn’t thinking. I, I grew up with a cat and… I’m sorry, okay? Can everyone stop freakin’ looking at me? Are we going to eat, or what?”

“Um, yeah. What’s for lunch this time, Jeb?”

“Human Michael, my name is Jebannuck, not Jeb.”

“No promises, Jeb...annuck. But I you’ll have to call me Mike, not Michael.”

Jebannuck sighed, “Very well, Human Mike. Your meal will be a banchip mash and a side of raw ruproot.”

“Again? That’s all we’ve had since we’ve been aboard.”

“Improvement from the last ship we were on,” muttered Wenona.

“Our information on humans is still quite limited. Once we dock at the outpost, we can upload the entirety of the Confederation’s data files on your race. That will include a list of foods we have available that are compatible with your digestive system. Until then, we’ll just have to stick with what we know won’t make you sick, or worse.”

“Aw, I knew you cared about us, Jeb.”

Jebannuck closed his eyes and sighed before he got up to walk to the food dispenser window. “You can do this, Jebannuck. Quick meal, visit with the captain, and then back to the medical bay. You can do this.”

[buriednurbckyrd]

Whenever You Need Me

Chapter 1

Part 3 of my Bucky x Plus-Sized Reader series after Lose Control & Valentine’s Day Do-Over

You’re speaking to students at a career convention when and accident happens..

...

Convention centers always seemed to be universally freezing, the air conditioning going full blast to compensate for the hundreds of bodies milling about.  Y/N shivered in her cardigan while she picked at the complimentary lunch that had been provided.  Tony Stark sat across from her, his own food left untouched while he scrolled through his phone.  

“That macaroni salad isn't going to suddenly become less disgusting, no matter how many times you poke it with your fork.” He told her. She looked up at him and set the utensil down, shoving the Styrofoam container away.  

“I'm still not sure I'm the best person for this, T.”  

“How so?”  He flicked his eyes up at her, fingers pausing mid text. “It's an open discussion with teenaged girls about women working in fields of science and technology.  Last I checked you were a woman working in the fields of science and technology, unless that has somehow changed in the last four hours?”  When she didn't reply he continued typing out his message while she looked around at the numerous high school students wandering around.  

When she had first heard about the plan to hold a sort of job fair for the kids in the city, she thought it was a wonderful idea.  The students could listen to people working in various occupations speak about their experiences on the job and what inspired them to go into their line of work.  Tony had been personally invited to speak, not only on his own, but also to participate in several panels throughout the day.  Y/N was pulled in when she had been looking over the list of speakers and made an offhanded remark that there were very few women scheduled to speak, and none of them worked in scientific fields. Before she knew what was happening, Tony was making some calls to the people in charge and she was volunteered to have a sit down with girls with an interest in scientific careers.  

“Who actually wants to hear what I have to say, though?”  She said quietly.  “There are some seriously big names here today.”

“Doesn't matter how big the name is if someone has no interest in the occupation.”  Tony replied, still typing away on his phone.  Y/N heard her own chirp at her from her bag and reached in to see who was calling.  

“Bucky?” She said, answering.  

“Hey, Doll.”  She couldn't help the wide smile that broke out across her face at the nickname.

“What's up, is everything all right?”  

“I'm fine, but a little birdie tells me you're kinda nervous about talking with the students.”  Y/N looked over at Tony.

“Would this happen to be a little iron birdie with a giant beak attached to an even bigger head?”  The man on the phone chuckled while the one sitting across from her grinned and blew her a kiss.

“Don't be too hard on the guy, darlin', he just thought you could use a friendly voice.  But why are you nervous?  You're just gonna talk about your work, and you love your work.”  She glanced over at Tony, unsure if she was willing to let him hear about her insecurities.  

“It's just…”  She trailed off and sighed.  “I guess it just reminds me of giving presentations in high school, and then I think about how much I hated high school and I know I should be over all of it because it's in the past and I'm definitely a very different person than I was back then-”

“Shh, breathe for me darlin'.”  Bucky soothed and she paused to take a deep breath.  “These young women signed up to hear what you have to say.  Remember that, and how far you've come since school.  And if nothing else, pretend you're talkin' to me.  You tell me about your work all the time, and these girls might actually understand some of it!”  Y/N laughed.  She could feel her heart rate slowing down, Bucky calming her nerves.  

“I love you.  Thank you.”

“I love you too, and you're welcome.”

“What did you decide to do today?”  She asked.

“Me and Steve are taking Sam to this deli we used to go to when we were kids.  The guy that owned it back then is obviously long gone, but his great-granddaughter and her husband run it now.  It's still the food we remember, though.”  She could hear the smile in his voice. So much had changed in the world, and she knew it meant a lot to Steve and Bucky when something could give them the feeling of the life they missed.  

“You'll have to take me some time, I hope you three have fun.  I do need to let you go, though.  I should start looking for the room I'm meeting with the students in.”

“All right, Doll.  I can't wait to hear all about it, love you.”  She blushed and smiled.  

“I love you, too.”  Tony made a gagging sound which she ignored. “I'll give you a call afterward.”  She ended the call and put her phone on silent.  She intended to give the students her full attention.  “Okay, we both need to get going.  I know you think you're allowed to be fashionably late, but it's rude.”  

“The public expects me to make an entrance, sweetheart,” the billionaire said with a wide grin.  “It's just giving the people what they want.”  Y/N rolled her eyes.  

“The people want you to show up on time.  Get marching, Stark.”  He heaved an exaggerated sigh and stood, slipping his phone into his pocket.  

“I'm going, I'm going...”  Y/N snorted as he dragged his feet walking away, sparing a few moments to watch Tony's dramatics before throwing her bag over her shoulder and taking her own leave.  

…

She stared at the door for a good ten seconds before taking a deep breath and walking into the room.  Fifteen faces turned to look at her and her heartbeat picked up speed.  

“Um, hi-hello.  I'm Y/N Y/L/N.”  She said, feeling foolish and awkward. Every girl had notebooks and pens at the ready.  It had never occurred to her that they would want to take notes.  She dropped her bag next to her on the floor and took a seat at the end of the long conference table.  A few of the students picked up their pens, waiting for her to begin.  “I'll be honest with you all, I'm not really sure how to begin.  Maybe we could, uh, go around the room and you can all introduce yourselves?”  Y/N could feel the embarrassment form a lump in her throat and tried to conjure Bucky's reassuring words in her mind.  “Sorry, I'm kind of nervous.”  She smiled at them all, and felt relieved when most of them smiled back. “So yeah, why don't you introduce yourselves and share what fields of study you're interested in.”

It went a lot smoother from there.  A few of the students were interested in medical research, a few looking to go to school for engineering, and a handful were on track to study biology.  The rest knew they wanted to pursue education and careers in science, but were unsure of the field.  

“It's fine not to know exactly what you want to do right now,” she assured them all.  “There are plenty of core classes you can begin taking before you choose the direction you want to take, and it may be beneficial to try a few different subjects.  The best part of a career in science is you never stop learning!  My official title is Chief Technical Analyst, which is a fancy way of saying I dig through hard drives and figure out how mystery gadgets work.”  A few of the girls giggled.  “But I'm incredibly fortunate that I get to work along side some of the most brilliant minds in science.  Since I began working with Dr. Banner-”

“Wait, you work with The Hulk?” One of the students interrupted.  

“Well, I guess?  But as I was saying-”

“Does that mean you know Tony Stark?”  Another girl squealed.  “I thought I saw you with him earlier!  What's he like?”  

“You're like, an Avenger!  That is so cool!”  Y/N frowned and shook her head.  

“I'm not an Avenger.  I don't fight crime, I just analyze the evidence they bring me.  It really isn't as exciting as the media would lead you to believe, it's a lot of paper work.”

“Have you ever seen a dead body?”  

“Do you know how to shoot a gun?”

“Is Captain America that cute in person?”  Y/N held up her hands and the excited chatter died down.  

“Look, my work is the behind the scenes science stuff.  But as I was trying to say before, I am lucky to have the freedom to dip my toes into other areas.  Most recently, neurobiology.  If you take anything away from this, I hope you remember that you aren't locked down into any one thing.  You're going to discover that everything is connected in science.”  Fifteen pairs of eyes were glued to her, but she knew she had lost them to the curiosity about her famous friends.  She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose.  “Yes, I know how to shoot a gun.”  The girls erupted into more questions.  

…

Even after they were miles off topic, Y/N still tried her best to get the girls back on track.  Just when she thought they might be ready to talk more about education and careers, Tony waltzed into the room stunning every one of them into awed silence.  Y/N scowled at him, knowing that there would be no chance of reining them in.  

“Sorry to barge in, ladies,” he said smoothly.  “But I need to steal this brilliant woman away from you early.”  A few girls giggled. “Ms Y/L/N?  May I speak with you outside?”  

“Absolutely, Mr. Stark.”  She replied, trying to mask her annoyance.  She looked at the students.  “I'm sorry we had to cut this short, but I hope it helped you anyway.”  The statement was only a courtesy.  She had lost control of the meeting and she doubted they would take anything away from it.  While the girls muttered amongst themselves she gathered up her bag and followed Tony out of the room.  “What the hell, T?”  She hissed as soon as the door closed behind him.  She opened her mouth again to scold him when he turned around.  The worry on his face silenced her in a moment.  

“I'm really sorry, sweetheart, but it's an emergency.”  Dread flooded her stomach.  

“What happened?”  

“Bucky was in an accident.”  

“What?!” She cried.  Tony took her arm and started to lead her quickly, yet gently towards the nearest exit.  “I don't understand, they were just going to have lunch!  How was he in an accident?”  She blindly fished for her phone, pulling it out and seeing the missed calls from Steve and Sam.  

“They did go to lunch, it happened when they were walking back to the tower.”  He paused when the got outside and called his driver.  “It was the most cliched thing,” he began again after they got into the car.  “Some guy lost control of his car and almost ran over a woman out walking with her kid.  Barnes pushed them out of the way and, well...”  He trailed off.  Y/N just stared out the window, watching the city speed by, guilt eating up her insides.  They had been trying to get a hold of her for almost an hour.  

…

She didn't wait for Tony to get out with her at the hospital.  When the car slowed down to nearly a stop she threw open the door and ran. Sam was pacing just inside the hospital.  

“Where is he?  What's going on?” She demanded as soon as she saw him.  

“Slow down, baby girl, take a breath.”  He put his arm around her shoulders and started over to the elevators.  “Barnes is gonna be fine, okay?  I promise you it isn't as bad as you're imagining.” Y/N went weak with relief.  

“You- Steve- you both called me so many times.”  Sam pushed the button for the correct floor and the doors slid shut.  

“I know, and I know how that must have looked.”  He looked uncomfortable.  “It's his arm, Y/N.  His right arm.  It's definitely broken.”  The gravity of Sam's words sunk in.  

“Oh god, he's got to be losing it.”  

“He's losing it on a level I've never seen before, and I've seen people lose it more times that I can count.  Steve has been trying to get him calmed down, but he's refusing to let anyone come near him.” The elevator came to a stop and as soon as they stepped out she could hear him shouting.  Several nurses and at least one doctor were huddled in the hallway looking traumatized.  It wasn't difficult to figure out which room Bucky and Steve were in.  Pushing aside all of her unease, determined to be strong for the man she loved, she reached for the door knob.  A hand shot out and gripped her wrist.  

“I'm not sure you want to do that.  The Captain told everyone to stay out here until he calms down.”  The nurse told her.  Y/N shook her head and offered a watery smile.  

“You don't have to worry about me.”  She replied gently and walked into the room.

Neither man noticed her come in.  Steve was standing with his back to her, his hands up and his stance reminding her of someone faced with a dangerous or skittish animal.  Bucky's eyes were screwed shut, sweat beading on his forehead.  He held his right arm across his stomach, both shoulders hunched over in pain.  His entire body trembled like it did when he had a particularly bad nightmare.  

“Don't touch me!” He screamed at Steve, who took a step backwards into Y/N.

“Y/N?” He looked relieved to see her, and Bucky's head snapped to attention when he heard her name.  He just watched her with wide terrified eyes, shaking like a leaf.  “I'm sorry we had to call you away from the students.”  Steve said, looking apologetic.  

“No, I'm sorry I wasn't here sooner.”  She did her best to keep her voice calm and steady.  “What happened?”

“This car came out of no where, nearly clipped someone on a bike.  There was a woman crossing the street with her daughter and they just froze.  Bucky just ran over without thinking, pushed them out of the way and took the hit.”  Y/N nodded and took a few steps towards the bed.  Bucky recoiled and she stopped.  

“The man driving the car?” She asked.

“He had a massive heart attack at the wheel,” Steve croaked out. “DOA.”  Y/N crept closer to Bucky and reached out a hand.

“James?” He looked up at her, still clutching his arm.  She could tell it was broken just looking at it.  

“Don't let them take it.  Please, don't take it.”  He choked out.  His voice was much quieter now, fear overtaking aggression.  

“Your arm is just broken, darling.  They only need to set it and wrap it in a cast so it can heal.”  She said gently, stepping closer and reaching her hand out to stroke his cheek.  Bucky leaned into her touch and let out a long shaky sigh.  “I'll stay with you the whole time, I promise.”  Her heart broke to see this brave, strong, selfless man so afraid.  One of his most reoccurring nightmares was him reliving the removal of his left arm.  “Does anything else hurt?”  She asked.  She looked over her shoulder at Steve who shook his head the silent question.  The broken arm was the only injury that needed attention.

“I'm sorry you had to come down here.”  Bucky mumbled.  Y/N smiled and kissed his forehead.  

“Just hush now, I would have been here sooner but my phone was on silent. I'll always be here if you need me.”  He finally looked up at her, his expression miserable.  Still holding his injured arm against his body, he slipped his metal limb around her soft waist and pulled her closer.  Y/N angled her body so she didn't bump his bad arm.  

“Can the doctor come in now and look at you?  I promise I won't leave and I won't let them do anything without your permission.”  Bucky was silent but eventually gave a short nod.  “All right Steve, you can let them in.”

True to her word, Y/N stayed glued to Bucky's side.  There was a tense moment when they told them X-rays were needed and she wouldn't be allowed in the room with him, but she calmed him down and stood on the other side of the door and talked to him the entire time.  After another few hours they could finally leave the hospital. Bucky's right arm in a cast and sling.  He was quiet and withdrawn on the ride back to the tower.  Steve attempted to make conversation a few times, but Bucky only stared down at his lap.  Sam kept any jokes or smart remarks to himself, which Y/N deeply appreciated.  

Once they were home Bucky took off for the elevator, muttering that he was going to bed.  Y/N turned to Steve and Sam with a tired smile.

“Thank you for getting him to the hospital.  I know he probably fought the two of you on it.”  Sam pulled her into a hug.

“Tooth and nail.  We finally had to invoke your name.”  She let out a feeble laugh.  “Go take care of him, cupcake.  Make sure the two of you get some sleep, and if you need any thing at all just give a holler.”  Steve hugged her after she pulled away from Sam and kissed the top of her head.  

“I'm glad he has you,” he told her softly.  “And like Sam said, if you or Bucky need anything just alert FRIDAY.”  

Up in hers and Bucky's shared rooms she found him curled into the smallest form he could manage on their bed.  She saw his shoulders tense when she climbed in next to him.  Knowing him as well as she did, she didn't try and talk to him.  Instead she cuddled against him and gently scratched her nails up and down his back just the way he loved.  They lay there quietly for a time and Y/N could feel him relax.  After a while Bucky shifted and rolled onto his back.  

“Hey, you.”  Y/N murmured.  He turned his face towards her.  

“I'm sorry, Doll.”

“You don't need to apologize.”  She reassured him.  

“I just-I couldn't-”  

“Shh… It's okay.  You're okay and you're going to heal.”  She smoothed his hair back off his face.  “You saved those people, and they will never forget that.  No one else could have taken that hit and walked away from it.  I wish you hadn't been hurt in the process, but your accelerated healing will have you back to fighting shape in no time.” He made a small noise in response and then stared up at the ceiling.

“I just kept thinking, what if I lose this arm too?”  His voice cracked and he swallowed hard.  “What if I never got to touch you again?”  

“Oh, Bucky.”  Her heart felt so heavy.

“I love you, Y/N.  You deserve someone that isn't so broken.”

“I love you, James.  I don't need some great on paper guy, I need you.  Your edges fit just perfect with my curves.”  His lips quirked up slightly.

“Your curves are perfect.”  He frowned.  “If it weren't for this stupid cast...”  She giggled and kissed his cheek.  

“The doctor said it could come off in as soon as three weeks, thanks to your super soldier bod.”  He turned his head and leaned in for a kiss, groaning against her lips.

“It's gonna be a long three weeks...”  

[indieks]

Not So Randomly | Part 2/5

🌟 Pairing : Im Changkyun (I.M) x Reader

🌟 Genre : Fluff, Angst

🌟 Warnings : Contains a few mentions of underage drinking (both characters are 18 so it’s the not the legal age in Korea)

🌟 Word count : 8.7k

🌟 Synopsis : Whenever you cross the path of Im Changkyun, that guy you hate and that hates you, it seems to be the worst day of your life. But, strangely enough, it also becomes the best and most accurate of moments you’ve ever had. So, the more you randomly end up stucked with each other, the more a question can arise : is it really chance that has something against you, or is it serendipity that drives you one towards the other?

Previous Part .:. Next Part

🌟 A/N : Okay so this part is going to focus more on I.M’s feelings and POV! 

I also wanted to say a huge thank you to the people who have read the previous part, without your attention I wouldn’t have been able to publish this one, so here I am, not letting you down without any sequel! Thank you to those who will read it just now or later too! Hope you like it ♥

Disclaimer : any gifs or images used, even edited, , are not mine and belong to their rightful owners!

***

  He ignored you all the week following your trespass in his group of friends, and so did you, relieved to have a little bit of peace, but you still felt strange about his silent treatment. No more nagging, no more bashing, not even one look from the corner of his eye ; it was as if you both had become ghosts no longer seeing themselves instead of ones appearing randomly in front of each other. During your free time, you walked carefully, looking around you at every step you took, but you only spotted him once or twice, playing far away from you on the beach without catching the sight of you in return.

It went on until the Friday of the party, when the grandma you worked with had to leave the both of you to handle her service, as she had to look after her grandchildren exceptionally. She drove her van with the supplies to the market and explained to you the last few tricks she could give you, before disappearing for the rest of the day. Even if it had already been a month you’d been there, even if you had already done what she asked you to do and didn’t need to worry, you still felt nervous at the idea of being all alone with him. Changkyun started to unpack and prepare things as if nothing had changed but, without you knowing, he was feeling even more uneasy than you.

His hyungs had pinpointed to him that he always seemed to drift into his thoughts since the beginning of summer or, more accurately, since he met you. At first, he had attributed this to tiredness, from waking up early after having spent the first hours of the morning hanging out with his friends, or from working in general – less than you, he knew that, but you deserved it. But somehow, he came to realize that whenever the boys had gotten him out of his trance, you had been the last thing he was thinking of. When he was in your company, it was an easy task for him to ignore you as he had other things to focus on and customers’ presence to monopolize his attention. But as soon as you turned your back on him and disappeared from his sight till the next morning, he couldn’t stop his mind to doze off because of you.

Not that his friends weren’t a good distraction, but maybe being with people he could be himself with, wasn’t helping at all. He didn’t need to be invested all the time with them as he was supposed to at work or with strangers to seem polite ; then, images of you he unconsciously had engraved in his mind came crashing against his brain like the waves he was floating in every afternoon, and Changkyun was gone. He was gone in the depths of his own imagination, remembering how you looked when you yawned, when you smiled to clients, when you stared at him confused and upset after one of his rebukes, when you pulled your hair into that messy bun that looked anything but messy to him – STOP. When did it start?

The first week, he had been sure of being mad at you and wanting nothing else but for you to disappear or for your voice not to sound so annoying in his ears. How come now he could get up easily after the first ring of his alarm or be chuckling when you shut him up? Whenever he had felt his lips curve into something far away from a neutral expression, he had wanted to slap himself for letting a girl so easily sway him when he had asked for nothing else but to chill this summer. No work, no early schedule, and certainly not a summer crush for a girl that had destroyed those very plans.

Stand your ground, Changkyun. He had said this to himself the first time his heart had definitely betrayed him, that is to say when you coincidently met on the promenade and he hadn’t been able to unleash his eyes from your silhouette turning away from him. This same lecture had been screamed inside the second time in the park, when he had felt sweaty all of a sudden just because he had thought “she’s fucking pretty”, just before coming to you and accusing you of following him – which, deep inside of him, he had wished you had in order to be assured he wasn’t the only one starting to get obsessed in this relationship. Not talking about the third time at the café, when he saw you blend perfectly with his closest friends and had to fight the urge to stop them from sympathizing and smiling too much with you when he hadn’t granted himself the right to.

Without you knowing, Changkyun was also feeling he was being followed by your ghost and it petrified and upset him as much as it had done with you. Still, he was deciding not to believe in ghosts as he always had, and at the same time not to believe in the terrifying effect you had on him by being just like one. No, he wasn’t going to get lured into your feminine trap ; no, you weren’t going to take his soul with you once you’d gotten to his feelings. If he was the main role of this horror story where chance was against him and, like some grim ripper, pushing him to the beautiful girl always appearing in front of his eyes when she wasn’t haunting his head, then he was going to be smarter than those characters that die stupidly in the films because of their fear. If he didn’t believe nor didn’t pay attention to you and the sensations you were giving him, then you would eventually stop bugging him. Right…?

Oh, how he had wished his persuasive lectures weren’t only intern dialogues that were not reaching his deaf heart and mind. How he had wished he was insensitive to your aura, and then not got distracted by your frame next to him this Friday morning, the both of you working in silence. How bad he regretted it when he cut his left hand deep because he was looking at you and not the piece of beef he had been holding on the counter for two minutes without doing anything to it.

“Shit” Changkyun murmured and he tried to hide it from you, ashamed and – once again – annoyed that you would see his clumsy self for the first time, giving you something to laugh at him.

Fortunately for his pride, no one was before your counter right now to witness his lameness. Blood was spilling from the palm of his hand and it started to hurt really bad, so bad he finally released a moan that got your attention, and you gasped at the sight of the red puddle forming before him.

“Did you cut yourself?!” you exclaimed.

What the???? She should be laughing at me right now, not get worried.

“What do you think? Congrats captain obvious” he hissed, trying to sponge the flow of deep red liquid in his apron.

“We need to stop the bleeding and disinfect it! Is it deep?” you said while reaching quickly to grab his hand, making his eyes open wide. “Do you know a hospital near here? We can’t let you like this!”

“I’m fine, Y/N, calm your nurse instincts right now” he answered, freeing his hand from your gentle grasp that had tinted your fingers with his blood.

But his contorted face was betraying him, as well as the bleeding that wouldn’t stop despite how much pressure he was adding on it – causing him even more pain.

“Listen, I don’t care about your manly pride or whatever it is that you’re showcasing right now! If you don’t want to go to the hospital, then fine, but at least let me take you to my parents’ car. There is an emergency kit because they feared I would be the one to hurt myself…” you half laughed. “We’re going to ask someone to watch over our stand.”

You grabbed his right wrist and started to pull at it for him to follow you, but he was resisting hard and not budging, as if his feet were now one with the ground.

“I’m not getting dragged by you like a poor child! I said I’m fine!” he almost screamed at you and people around diverted their gazes to look at you, making him hide his wounded hand behind his back, smiling awkwardly.

However, his smile soon disappeared when he saw how furious you looked when you turned on your heels to face him before getting close to him again – too close, go away you ghost – and when you got to hold his hand after some little fight with him, you put some pressure right on the wound.

“Ouch! It hurts, are you crazy?!”

“See? You’re not fine you dumbass, so follow me and stop being stubborn!”

Once again you put your hand on him, once again he could feel your touch that burned him despite the sleeve of his shirt, once again you were drowning his brain into your waves, making him unable to say no anymore. You dragged him through the alleys after having asked your stand neighbor to look after yours for the time being, and got out of the market. Changkyun had his eyes glued to your now red hand on his wrist, his brows furrowed as he felt his arm going numb under your touch. Your parents’ van was parked in a quiet street across the market, and you opened its big trunk hastily while the boy waited behind you, in his same nonchalant posture with his feet tapping nervously on the ground. The sun was almost reaching its peak in the sky, shining upon your heads and when you turned around after having found the white box, you tried your best to keep a poker face as he was stunning. You sat down in your truck with one leg folded on the inside and the other one dangling over the edge, and invited him to come and face you, to what he surprisingly obliged without saying a word or giving you a look.

“Tell me if it hurts” you said quietly as he surprisingly again offered you his wounded hand.

“It would anyway y'know” he answered with his pissed tone, the one he used exclusively with you, a mix of something real deep but sometimes a little bit whiny.

You put some disinfectant on a cotton pad and started to wipe away the blood that had drained everywhere on his hand and wrist, and the boy moaned again a little, instinctively trying to get away from your grasp while killing you with his eyes.

“You’re such a crybaby I swear” you laughed.

“Shut up. I would love to see you in my place.”

His hand was beautiful and soft now that you had cleaned it, and you stood still a few minutes, holding a compress again the cut to stop the bleeding. He was staring at you while you were looking at your fingers around the back of his hand, now finally aware of how close he was to you and how delicate that physical contact was, making your legs wobble once again. As your mind had been focused on treating him quickly, you hadn’t had the time to realize what that incident had implied, nor how, for the first time after a month of being together, Changkyun was cooperative and… normal. The silence between you wasn’t disturbing or awkward like a few minutes sooner in the market, and as you were facing him but not looking him in the eye, you chose to observe the upper part of his chest going up and down as he breathed steadily, the few opened buttons of his shirt making the fabric lose but falling perfectly on him.

The blood finally stopped from coming and after cleaning another time, you cut a piece of bandage before rolling it around his hand slowly, your fingers never stopping from brushing his skin. Changkyun hadn’t moved his eyes from your face an instant, his mouth shut even if he was screaming internally the lecture he had unsuccessfully told himself the three other times before. Stand your ground! You won’t like her! But how come your hand around his felt fucking right in its place?

“Done!” you finally said, a smile on your lips that started to fade away when you finally landed your eyes on his face that was unreadable, while he had already been looking at you all this time.

Time seemed to stop for a few seconds such as your heartbeats as you stared at each other wordlessly, until you finally let go of his hand and drifted in your seat to stop facing him.

“Thank you” he suddenly said, his beautiful low voice melting in your ears and you only nodded in acknowledgement before getting up, wanting this weird moment to end.

He had let the words roll off his tongue as he had lost himself in your eyes and touch, and if he had been convinced that he could prevent the aura from your person to wash over his, he was proven wrong at this right moment, when he wouldn’t have been able to break from your physical link if you hadn’t first.

  ***

  You were facing the mirror of your wardrobe in your umpteenth outfit for tonight, but the more you tried some pieces of clothes, the less it seemed like the new choice was better than the previous. Memories of the morning were buzzing in your head, how tension had been thick after you had regained your jobs behind the counter, how you both didn’t say a word even when he went his way and you yours at noon, not bothering to create a common lie to tell your parents. From time to time, your gazes had met and it had frozen you, because you hadn’t read any sign of despise in his pupils. He had just been looking at you, not more, not less, and it had been enough to shake your inner emotions.

As it grew chilly at night, with the sea wind sweeping Busan’s streets, you finally opted for a high-waisted pair of jeans with an off-shoulders long sleeved black crop top, before lacing some glittery sneakers for the party feeling. Your swimsuit and beach towel thrown in your backpack, you finally went out of your house after telling your parents Changkyun was going to pick you up and you’d go to his friend’s house together, when in reality, he wasn’t. You hadn’t talked about tonight, you hadn’t dare to bring the subject and with Minhyuk’s address on your phone, you had decided to go to his place by the bus you’ve found about on the internet and then walk to there alone, loving the city at night.

The bus stop was downtown, only ten minutes away from your house, and when you arrived there, a little crowd was waiting on the sidewalk. You posted yourself on the left side, and as you checked your makeup one last time in your phone’s screen, you saw his reflection next to your face. You almost dropped the electronic item due to shock, scared that you were really seeing things now, but when you slowly turned around to look behind you, Changkyun was really there. He was looking at you with his ultimate poker face while your eyes were ready to jump out of their holes because of what they had before them, hardly believing that he was squatting in front of the entrance of a closed store, in an all-black outfit that boosted his charms in some ways you wished didn’t affect you.

Changkyun had seen you through the bus stop’s glass since you had appeared on the other side of the road, his heart racing and racing at each of your footsteps leading you closer to him. Even when you were far away and in a crowded place, his eyes seemed to be infatuated by your light as they never failed to target you. He took a little time to wrap his head around what was going on, impressed at how the words “coincidence” and “chance” were definitely hanging above your relationship and preventing him from distancing himself from you. And there you were, looking all shocked at his sight, your pretty red-tinted lips slightly parted and your doe eyes opened big ; and there he was, escaping his cursed destiny to meet you all the time as he stood up on both his feet and, instead of greeting you, passed you and entered the bus who had arrived right on time.

You followed him without a word, still knocked out, but you decided to sit beside him even if he had tried to avoid you.

“What are you doing? I’m already annoyed that I’ve met you that soon when I’m going to see you all night, so no need to stick with me in addition to that” he coldly said, looking outside the window.

You chuckled, making him snap his head in your direction with a confused expression disguising his traits.

“What makes you laugh?”

“Don’t you think it’s fucking funny? How we always meet each other when we exactly don’t want to?” you answered, still quietly laughing and, because you were too overtaken by the situation to get shaken by his proximity, you dared to look at him in the eyes.

Changkyun searched your face for a few seconds, struck by your boldness and how you pointed at the facts with a smile while it made him panic.

“I don’t think it’s funny, I find it pretty irritating.” he finally stated as he pushed his body closer to the window, wanting to be as far from you as possible.

“Well I find it funny. If chance has decided to laugh at us, we should be laughing as well instead of giving it what it wants by getting upset.”

You had finally stopped laughing, your eyes staring outside at the dots of light created by the public lightning and the cars, but you caught a glimpse of his blurred reflection and saw that he was indirectly looking at you. Small glances and weird sensations went on until you had to get off the bus, and Changkyun immediately pressed his pace, the heels of his leather boots resounding in the quiet street. But when you saw he hadn’t the bandage you had made hours earlier anymore, you caught him by the arm, making him stop to turn around and look at you.

“What again? Leave me alone!” he exclaimed, shaking his arm off of your grasp.

“Why don’t you have it anymore?!” you asked, showing his left hand with a move of yours.

Changkyun sighed and started to advance backwards, clearly annoyed that you had noticed as he put the hand in the pocket of his jacket.

“I told you that I was fine. You wouldn’t let go of me this morning so yeah, I obliged, but I took it off as soon as we weren’t together.”

Weirdly, you felt stricken by his words, your heart compressing itself in your chest and he saw it, as your face changed and hardened, making him anticipate your next words.

“Okay, I don’t care anyway, I just made it so that my parents weren’t going to yell at me for not doing anything when my fake friend hurt himself.”

With that being said, you were the one to walk quickly this time, leaving him behind with his lips forming a thin line as you succeeded in planting the doubt in his head about the origins of your actions.

“Oh right? You looked quite worried this morning!” he added with a louder tone, his voice laced with slyness while in reality, he was trying to ensure himself you had been concerned.

“You wish. Maybe for my ass, but clearly not for yours” you grumbled through your teeth, not bothering to look at him who was now walking next to you.

You both were lying simultaneously, you as you clearly had been worried for him, Changkyun as he simply had removed the bandage when he took a shower and didn’t bother to make another one before going out. You, because you had just been somehow disappointed at his words, realizing that a jerk remains one and that you shouldn’t be fantasizing like you did all day long about how he had looked at you this morning, how he had let you touch him and how you had been trembling doing so ; him, because he still refused to let you reach him any further than from skin to skin, ignoring the signals his body and mind gave him. You and him, because you both were disturbed by how you sensed everything was growing wrongfully right between the two of you.

You stormed to Minhyuk’s front door, hearing music coming out loud from the garden and voices chatting cheerfully. When the brown haired sunshine opened up, a bright smile on his face, you suddenly felt shy but the need to escape Changkyun urged you inside with bold steps. The latter came in right after, earning a curious look from his friend but he brushed him off, focusing on having a good night and forgetting you and whatever you were doing to him. Minhyuk’s house – or rather villa – was stunning, modern but warm, with huge ceiling height and tastefully chosen decorations, from the colorful paintings to the flower pots and plants, and the family photographs hanged proudly on the walls.

“Oh Y/N you came! Come here!” Hoseok greeted from the terrace, wearing nothing but his swimming shorts, his well-built body drying your mouth even from far away.

You made your way through the little crowd formed in the opened kitchen, not sensing that Changkyun was right behind you and going the same way. When you reached his friend though, he reappeared next to you, without his jacket on but only his black tank top he had been hiding under it as well as a silver chain hanging around his neck, making your heart burst but your anger from earlier helped you to handle it. The terrace and garden were splendid, with tinsels hanging above your heads and the long glowing swimming pool waiting for you, as the party was just about to begin. The smell of barbecue came to your nostrils, covering the ones of chlorine and cigarettes some people were smoking next to you.

“How are you?” the blonde guy asked you before drinking in his red cup.

“Fine and you?” you answered with a smile, earning a look from Changkyun on your left.

“Great! You know you’re the youngest here right? But we need to introduce you to our friends! Ya Lee Minhyuk, come and welcome your guest properly would you?!” he finally shouted with a beautiful smile, making you laugh and turn around to see your host coming.

He grabbed you by the shoulders and went under a rally of presentations from group of people to group of people, making you extremely shy but also appreciative of his efforts to make you comfortable in an environment you were new to. Once you returned to Hoseok who had been joined by Kihyun, Changkyun had fled the scene and you looked for him despite you, finding him with Jooheon and some girls behind the island of the kitchen with a cup already in his hands.

“You want something to drink? I know you’re underage but… You’re turning 19 soon, aren’t you?” Hoseok asked, winking at you.

“Let’s keep it a secret, and I’m not that much of a drinker don’t worry, it’s just that orangey punch that calls me” you answered with a chuckle, and without another word the guy went to the big bowl of cocktail and brought you back a full cup.

“You can stay with us for the time being, don’t be uneasy, we already like you!” Kihyun said with a smile.

“Changkyun didn’t badmouth me? You guys should know he hates me…” you finally asked, curious about the reasons he would give his friends as you didn’t really know them yourself.

“Oh he only said that at the beginning because you made him work during his holidays, but now whenever we ask something he-”

“Heeeey let’s toast, we haven’t!” Hoseok cut Kihyun, giving him a warning look that his friend understood immediately while you were just frustrated with not having an answer, but asking again would be showing Changkyun too much interest and you were not interested in him. Well maybe you were, but he didn’t need to know.

Like that, you started to chat with them about anything and everything, Shownu and Hyungwon joining you and you were glad to be surrounded by such nice guys, making you forget about the presence of the individual that had been bothering you. Soon, Minhyuk initiated the pool party by jumping in fully clothed, and you grabbed your backpack to go change in one of the bedrooms upstairs. When you came back a few moments later – the time to convince yourself to assume your body –, everyone was already under water, boys playing something that was supposed to be water polo while girls were sitting on the edge, their legs dangling in the turquoise water. You sat on your own, too shy to go close to them until one of them nicely signaled you to join them, so you did, happy to having been taken into account. As Changkyun’s male friends, they were easy to chat with and lively, so you quickly felt at ease in spite of your younger age and your outsider character.

The party went on smoothly, you ignored Changkyun and he ignored you – at least you thought so, not noticing him ogling your unveiled and wet body when you were not observing his. With his wet hair and his big smile, he was beautiful ; still an asshole, but a beautiful one and you couldn’t take your eyes from him in the pool, hoping the darkness of the night was helping your gaze to stay unknown. You took part in water games, hopping onto Shownu’s shoulders to face another girl on Hoseok’s, and you won against her, making her fall into the water and all the party people applauded you lively. Like you with him, Changkyun was finding you stunning as he was seeing you being you, a shining and sociable person, a playing one, a smiling one, a cheerful one who could melt with any environment she was pushed in. With a bit of fiery liquid into his veins, his attraction for you became undeniable but also fighting against it unbearable, and the peak of his determination became at stake when a small group of you decided to play a card game on the grass.

Each card meant a different rule, and in your attempt of having some fun and blend in with people without having to go back to Changkyun’s friends all the time or, worse, himself, you had volunteered to play. After a few rounds of ridiculous “Never have I ever”, chains of words, sentences ending with rated words, but overall a lot of sips distributed – thankfully though you weren’t drinking anymore –, came the turn of Changkyun. He was sitting on your right as fate had wanted to test you once again by making the only empty spot for him the one next to you. To the 10th card he picked corresponded a truth or dare question and he hesitated, finally choosing dare as the players incited him to, but he regretted it as soon as he said the word.

“I dare you… To kiss Y/N for ten seconds” Jooheon said, fire in his eyes and a devilish smile that absorbed yours.

“What? No, no no no I’m not doing this” Changkyun vigorously protested as you were signaling no with your head and faked disgust with your face.

When in reality you were both craving to do so.

“C'mon, it’s just a mere kiss!” his friend answered, earning the cheers of the other players.

“You know what it means if you refuse? I don’t think you’re going to end well if you drink the number of sips Jooheon has in mind right now!” intervened Minhyuk, his crossed legs jumping rapidly.

“I said no! I don’t want to!” Changkyun exclaimed, and you almost felt hurt at how furiously he was refusing when it was just a kiss. Was it that awful for him to kiss you?

“Or maybe… That’s because you like each other?” Jooheon finally issued.

Your heartbeat stopped and you chuckled, laughing at how you couldn’t deny it immediately. Of course, you liked him, it annoyed you, but you liked him. However, he didn’t like you, and that was what made you even angrier for liking him first when he had been that rude to you.

“No we clearly don’t, it’s much like the contrary” you explained.

“Then it’s even more fun!” a girl pinpointed and you turned your head to Changkyun who looked like he was pondering his options.

And he was. He didn’t want to kiss you, because he was scared you’d win ; he was scared he wouldn’t be able to go back to the time he didn’t care about you ; he was scared he’d definitively have a thing for you, uselessly as you probably weren’t going to see each other after the end of the summer. But if he didn’t, you’d think exactly the same as his friends who were looking at him with suggestive smiles, you’d see how weak you were making him feel since two weeks, and he wasn’t going to give you that. It’s just a kiss, it proves nothing.

“Okay.” he finally sighed, his deep voice giving you much more chills than the answer itself.

“Really? We’re really doing this?” you finally asked, shocked that he wasn’t protesting any further.

“Yes we are, they’re trying to annoy me here but that doesn’t work as I don’t give a fuck about you so let’s get it over with already” Changkyun answered harshly and you saw Kihyun giving him a kick in his leg, making the youngest moan.

See, a jerk remains a jerk, Y/N, you said to yourself.

“You don’t need to be this rude to prove yourself, Changkyun-ah.”

The players applauded as you turned your head and chest to your right, your heart playing a rhythm that was new to you and your cheeks burning. The subdued lights of the tinsels outlined his face in the most perfect ways, from his long and sharp nose to his small lips, to his dark eyes that were looking at yours and then at your mouth with a glimpse of… Lust?

Changkyun reached his right hand and directed it towards your neck where he rested it, while his wounded one was grasping the grass really hard in order to calm him, to the point he was hurting but he didn’t care. His hooded eyes were focusing on the target of his lips, while his mind was going numb from the anticipation and the alcohol. Your wet self was gorgeous, more than the stars up there looking at you and waiting for this moment as much as him even if he feared it the most. And then, it happened. His lips on yours, kissing not only once but twice or thrice, he didn’t know, for ten seconds that felt like an eternity, making his blood boil into his veins and his head spin round.

And then, he felt it, the splash of emotions you were painting him with as he kissed you again and again; the wave of your colors replacing the one of your pictures in his head, and crashing against him really hard, but with a pleasure he couldn’t measure. Ten seconds Jooheon worked hard to count really slowly as he knew his best friend really well, and when Changkyun parted from you, he felt empty and so did you.

“There. Happy?” he suddenly said, his voice trembling a little as he was shifting in his seat, not even bothering to look at you while you still did.

Numb legs, tachycardia, hot cheeks, cold sweat and chills, but most of all the need to feel more of his lips ; that’s in how much of a mess he had left you. You didn’t have the time to process what had happened as it was your turn to pick and, as chance was still chasing after you, you also picked a 10, making everyone laugh except the both of you.

“Truth” you safely said, not wanting to get trapped into one of their plans to get you closer to their friend.

“You liked the kiss, didn’t you?” Hoseok asked and you felt betrayed even if his smile made his question smoother.

Lying wasn’t an option ; you had to, or else you were done for. But before you could even think of something, the banished word slipped from your lips still lingering in the feeling of his :

“Yes.”

Your tone was more desperate than what you had wanted it to be, and your eyes grew wide when you realized what you had just said. Changkyun froze next to you, not even daring to look at you who were trying to hide your embarrassment behind your wet hair, but everybody was looking at you and cheering.

“That’s what we call having some guts Y/N! You didn’t even lie, I can hear it! I was testing you and you didn’t disappoint me!” Hoseok exclaimed.

“Why would I lie though? He may be an asshole, but he’s still a good kisser, there’s nothing else to that” you laughed, trying to brush off your emotions with humor when in fact you were screaming on the inside.

“Thank… you?” Changkyun spoke up, an ounce of uncertainty in his voice and you only shrugged, playing the indifferent one to spare yourself from the explosion of his pride and his knowledge of your crush on him.

And it worked well, as his brows knotted and he tilted his head, not so sure about how you really had felt during the kiss. He shouldn’t be the only one losing his mind here, was he…? Another round went on and you couldn’t be with all your heart in it, as it was stucked in the feeling Changkyun had left in you. Not the butterflies yet, but a sparkle that was tingling in your chest and had not decided yet to go away. It was as if you had the image of his face growing close to yours tattooed under your eyelids, because every time you blinked, you saw it again : how his wet hair fell perfectly around his forehead, how his eyes stared at your lips till there wasn’t any space left between you, how the kiss, no, the kisses were intense and warm.

Meanwhile, Changkyun was struggling between the urge to kiss you again right here right now, and the one to move on as quickly as possible otherwise he was going to lose himself. And so he chose the latter option, right after the game ended with no more cards to pick up ; and so, he trailed his feet to the bar, taking an empty cup in his hand to fill it with beer and drinking up in no time ; and so, he got back in the swimming pool to wash out the dizzy feeling you had inlaid inside of him. However, his determination to prove himself he didn’t care about you made him do silly things, the power of alcohol boosting his confidence as well as his cocky side, and he started to flirt with other girls, the one in particular who had called him by his pet name the other day at the bar.

You couldn’t get over your remaining emotions and questions as you were still out of step, your soul having been absorbed a little bit more by each kiss he had eagerly given you. That’s why when you saw him kissing passionately another girl in the swimming pool shortly after, his bare torso against hers in bikini, his arms firmly engulfing her waist while hers were around his neck, you felt like you were going to puke and cry at the same time.

A jerk remains a jerk, Y/N.

Once again, you should have reminded yourself that he didn’t like you, that there was nothing for you to hold onto as there was nothing he could give you except for his despise and his indifference when you asked for his attention and his interest. You were so mad at yourself for having been touched by the syndrome of the summer romance so easily, adding to that the romantic cliché of getting attracted by the boy treating you badly, making yourself feeling ridiculous.

Suddenly, as you stood there watching them without winking, they got out of each other’s grasp and you saw Changkyun smiling confidently at you, as if he was saying right to your face “See? I don’t give a shit about you”, and that was the last straw. You needed to get out of here, feeling ashamed enough, so you stormed inside the house under his gaze and went upstairs to grab your backpack, going down as quickly as possible before getting out by the front door. Without saying goodbye, without one last look on the devastating smile on his face, you were going down the street and you felt hot tears prickling at the corner of your eyes, making you even more pissed.

“Y/N! Y/N!”

You heard the low voice you hated above everything yelling behind you, but you continued to walk fervently, refusing to see his face once again. Why was he following you? What did he want?

The second Changkyun had seen you go inside the villa, he had regretted what he had just done. He had felt weird, his lips itching and his heart beating fast, and when he saw you climbing upstairs then outside, he hurried himself out of water. He panicked, guided by his instinct to get dressed and then he followed you without thinking twice. His feet moved without his brain commanding them to, as it was shut off since you’ve kissed, and if he had thought seconds before he didn’t care about you like he did with other girls, his body was making him understand he couldn’t lie to himself anymore, at least not tonight with alcohol in his blood, with having felt your lips on his and how right it had been when with the other girl it felt odd.

“YA! Wait!” he screamed and you finally halted in your steps, not turning back though and he came in front of you, his swimming shorts still on while his top was gluing to his body due to water. “Where are you going?”

“Where do you think? Home, now if you don’t mind” you answered quickly, your throat tight because your need to puke and to cry was still there.

“I-I…I can’t let you go home alone like this” he suddenly stuttered, blocking you the way when you had tried to walk again.

“Leave me alone, I can go home by myself I’m a grown ass woman! Why do you care? What do you want?”

The moment your eyes met, his wide open due to shock at your burst of anger, yours now more than watery, you felt your heart ache and some tears finally spilled on your face. Shit…

“Wait wait w-… Why are you crying? Why are you crying? Why?” he asked incessantly, and you grew even more angry.

He didn’t deserve to see you like this. He didn’t deserve your tears in the first place. Why were you even crying? You tried another time to go away but he extended his arms and blocked you again, making you want to punch him right in the face.

“Oh shit what do you want, Im Changkyun? Why are you blocking me? You like to see me crying, you enjoy yourself? You want to humiliate me once again in no time, huh?!”

Your voice was trembling and your tears weren’t only due to shame and sadness anymore, they were now mixed with rage.

“Why are you crying?”

“Would you stop asking? It doesn’t concern you.”

“When you’ll have answered” he replied with a more serious tone, dropping his arms to his sides and you felt his gaze piercing your skull.

“Leave me alone, please” you finally pleaded while wiping the tears’ stains on your cheeks.

“I won’t let you go home alone at this hour” he said calmly and you looked up at his face lighten by the moon, seeing how resolved he was. “Wait here for me, I’m picking up my things and-”

���Why do you fucking care. Since when do you care about me” you chuckled between two quiet sobs.

He didn’t have the answer to this question, but there he was, unable to move aside to let you go. His heart was going at a crazy pace and his eyes were drifting again and again to your lips he wanted to taste another time selfishly ; yeah, it should be just that, just your kiss that had attracted his drunk self craving for more, not anything else.

“Like you with my hand, I don’t want my mother to kill me if she finds out you went home alone and stuff” he chose to answer, and you smiled sadly, not even disappointed at his indifference towards you as you didn’t hope anything anymore.

“You didn’t propose to go with me earlier, so why would you care about my return now? Stop playing the heroes or whatever and let me be. Don’t worry, I’ll tell my mom a lie like we did since the beginning, I don’t even know why you’re stressed about that right now.”

Changkyun stared at you wordlessly, his chin a little bit raised but this time it wasn’t in defiance, it was in pure admiration of your face still beautiful even when you were crying. He was blinking slowly, and drops from his hair were slowly making their way to his eyelids but even if he wasn’t the one sobbing here, he felt some kind of pain in his body. As much as he had loved annoying you, he couldn’t stand seeing you cry right now. You tried to move one more time and he repeated the same gesture, irritating you so much that you started to cry hard.

“Why are you crying again? What can I do to make you stop crying? Kiss you because I’m a good kisser?” he silly joked but he slapped himself internally when he caught the rage burning in your pupils.

He had panicked and didn’t know what to do, still ignoring how come he was facing you at this right moment, so everything that had been following his first steps outside was a result of his mind going crazy.

“You don’t know when to stop, do you. You’re really the worst asshole I’ve ever seen in my life.”

“I’m sorry I-”

“Save it. Get out of my sight, that’s what you can do to help me stop crying” you hissed.

Again, a kind of pain, a discomfort invaded him at your words. You were mirroring exactly what he had wanted since the beginning, you having nothing to do with him and him having nothing to do with you, but right now he didn’t want to see your door closing to his face. Not after he had touched your light behind it with that fucking kiss.

“If it’s because of me, I’m legit to know why and to stay right here” he overbid, making you roll your eyes and when you searched for your gauge of patience, you found out he had emptied it till the last drop, making you burst out.

“Because I got a crush on you, you fucking jerk! That’s why I’m crying, because it annoys me so much, ok? Happy now? You must be yeah, the girl you hate just gave you something to hurt her even more with, wouhouuu! Now will you let me go and go back to her, to your friends and living your life?!”

Changkyun grew mute in an instant, processing the words he had just heard but he was too scared to understand. You? Liked? Him???? How????? You just had the courage to look at his beautiful face one more time, his eyes lit up with panic just like you had imagined, and his mouth agape, that mouth that had been like the kiss of death, killing your cover right before his eyes for him to watch and to enjoy himself at the feeling of being liked. You took this chance to shove him out of your way and to walk again, a never-ending flow of tears slipping down your cheeks on fire and, as you had expected, he didn’t come after you this time.

  ***

  In fact, he didn’t come to work either. You had grown anxious like the night before his first working day a month ago, making you unable to sleep again. And when you realized he wasn’t coming, you felt your heart break. It wasn’t enough for him to humiliate you by kissing another girl right in front your eyes, after learning you had liked the kiss, no ; he couldn’t prevent himself to dig in your wound even deeper by running away from you for you to remember how one sided it was and how you just embarrassed him. You felt pitiful to some extent you didn’t know existed ; for crushing on him first, for having been that weak, for believing you had felt something coming from him at some point, like hoping he had felt that sparkle too.

You dealt with it the best you could, even if anger was piling up inside you at his childish behavior. Moreover, let aside the fact it must be because of you, how could he abandon the granny like this, disappearing without saying a word? She had asked you the reason of his absence on the Wednesday, and you had been kind enough to make up the excuse of sickness on his behalf. After hesitating, you finally asked directly his mother, and she informed you he was looking for somewhere else to work for the month of August, “wanting to change”, and she excused herself on his behalf. Everyone was explaining his behavior on his behalf, and you couldn’t take it anymore ; you needed to know how much of a coward he could be, what excuses he could possibly give you if you confronted him.

And so you did, this time asking for chance to help you come across him like you always did, and it heard you. You just had finished your morning service and decided to search through the city, going back to where you had met him every time, and you had been right ; you saw him at the same park from weeks ago, laughing wholeheartedly with his hyungs this time sitting on the grass, and this sight of him was the flame that caused your inner bomb to explode. You stormed in his direction, getting the worried looks of his friends that started to kick him and point at you, but by the time he looked over his shoulder you were already standing next to his sitting frame.

“Where have you been?!” you yelled, your heart back up in your throat and your temples beating at its pace.

Changkyun jumped on his feet and grabbed you by the wrist, dragging you away from his group of friends, his famous annoyed look recovering its place in his eyes.

“What do you want?” he asked you in an exasperated tone.

“I asked you a question. Why don’t you come to work anymore?”

“You asked me to get out of your sight so that you won’t cry anymore, so I just did, thank me for being considerate” he shrugged before crossing his arms.

Wow. You liked this kind of guy? What happened to you really?

“Really? And what about the granny, huh? You don’t give a shit about letting her down?”

“I was going to tell her so put the fangs away.”

“You really have no shame do you? Are you really avoiding me like a fucking coward instead of dealing with it? I’m not asking you for me, I don’t care if I see you or not, I’m asking you for her I mean how can you do this to her?!” you screamed, your hands up in frustration but Changkyun’s face wasn’t moving an inch, his eyes staring at you without life, as they always had – except on that damn Friday.

“Is it my fault that you like me? I didn’t leave because of your stupid crush on me! Why are you bringing that up? Deal with it yourself, I already forgot it y'know? I left because I want to work somewhere else, I don’t like the market so let me be! You only have one month left, you can handle it without me.”

He combed his hair with his wounded hand, the silver reflections so clear under the sun, and you bit your lip to prevent a sob from coming. Never had he been that mean to you, why that much harshness suddenly? When he had been the one coming after you and wanting to take you home a few days earlier? Did he wait for you to fall for him like you exactly did so that he could crush you even more?

“Yeah, you’re right. It’s a fucking stupid crush, so I’ll soon forget about what I found in you in the first place. You’re contributing so well to this, that’s what I should be thanking you for.”

Changkyun felt his heart compress itself in his chest but he didn’t show it, watching you turn on your heels and, once again, depart from him. He was paying the price of his lies, but he had been willing to do so.

The moment you had confessed your crush on him, he had been strangled by the hands of fear that also grabbed his feet and prevented him to come after you a second time. You liked him, he had heard you well, but he wasn’t brave enough like you to let go of his pride and admit he was feeling the same deep inside of him. He didn’t like this strange control you could have on him, like when you attracted him outside in the first place when he had set his mind on having fun with another girl. He didn’t like how bad it had hit him when you kissed. He didn’t like how scared he was, so he decided to run away from the situation.

Contradiction after contradiction, wondering after wondering, he had finally sobered and then used that coward card, so that you won’t cry anymore, so that you’ll despise him and help him forget about you. He didn’t think it was worth the shot, he didn’t attempt to give it a try, as summer would come to an end anyway and so would everything it had ravaged in its path, probably taking away your attractions to one another.

You engraved the picture of his face in your mind one last time before turning away from him, knowing it would probably be the last you’ll ever see him. You couldn’t see him anymore. This became your last unfortunate encounter till the end of summer, as you never came across his silhouette again after that, not going out of your room during your free time. At least, you had hoped it was the last ; but chance had decided otherwise.

 To be continued…

 A/N : T h a n k s  f o r  r e a d i n g  once again, I’ll update Part 3 as soon as I can!



[xain-russell]

NaNoWriMo2017 project preview.

It was almost one in the morning when Max slipped out the window of his family’s manor via rope made from bedsheets. He was almost disappointed that he'd stooped to such a clique means of running away from home, but he couldn't really argue it's effectiveness when his boots finally hit the grass. The cloudy sky blocked out the moon and stars as he quietly made his way to the edge of the gardens, avoiding the night watch stationed here and there around the manor's grounds. When he reached the outer wall surrounding his luxurious childhood home, he headed straight for the thick ivy that had been growing out of and around the loose bricks. He never trusted that the plant would hold his weight long enough to scale the almost ten meter tall barrier that separated him and the rest of the town, but at this point he had exhausted all other options. So with a muttered prayer to the Goddess of Fortune, Max took hold of the vines and started to pull himself upward. There were a few points where the plant almost gave out, but its long reaching limbs were so tangled up in each other that even if one broke, the others would pick up the slack.

Max finally reached the top, smiling to himself and his good luck before turning to look back to the manor and losing that smile immediately. The window he'd climbed out of was now lit up, and one of the maids was pulling at the bedsheets.

"Ah Hell." Max cursed as he reached into his backpack and started to feed another chain of bed sheets out and over the side of the wall.

He tied the end in between the vines, hoping again that they'd support his weight for just a few more seconds as he descended to freedom. As he was about to repel downward, the night guards started running about a little more quickly, meaning that retched maid had raised an alarm. Max wouldn't have a lot of time to get away before they figured out he wasn't in the grounds anymore, and when half the land was under orders to 'detain' Lord Galestrom's son on sight, it meant Max was going to have half the town of Goldheart on his ass within minutes.

Max jumped off the wall when he was still a good ten feet off the ground and went straight into a dead run. The town itself wasn't very big, so he hoped he'd make it out of the loosely tied together community and into the mountains before the guards had a chance to send word out of the manor. However he didn't make it far before he turned a corner and ran right into a patrolling pair of lightly armored soldiers, who nearly jumped out of their chain mail when Max entered the light cast by the torches they carried.

"Uhgg..." Max groaned in frustration.

"Young Lord?" One of the guardsmen asked. "What are you doing out of the estate? At this time of night even?"

"Not going back, that's what!" Max yelled as bent to the ground and grabbed a handful of loose dirt and gravel before flinging it into the guard's unprotected eyes.

"Gah! Son of a bitch!" The guard cried as he dropped his torch and tried to get his eyes cleared.

The other guard quickly made a grab at Max, but he ducked under the outstretched arm and tackled his would be captor to the ground. Quickly getting back up, Max was off again, the sound of the watchmen's horn going off behind him, letting everyone in town know exactly where he was. Diving in between houses, making sure to stay off the streets, he made it to the edge of town without stumbling on anymore guards. But as he passed the last building and into open farmland, he found himself completely exposed. Even with personal training from the captain of the guard, Max doubted he'd be able to outrun them for long, especially if the cavalry turned up.

"It's okay," he thought to himself. "It's just a couple miles. I can run that. right?"

Max ended up collapsing against a fence post about halfway to the mountains. He leaned against the wood for a few minutes, trying to catch his breath, before he heard the tell tale sound of at least two dozen hooves stamping against the ground.

"Damn it." he gasped. "So close this time!"

"Young Lord!" Came a call as the stampede of horses drew closer.

Max looked up from the fence and glared as Captain Ironclad and his chosen guards galloped toward him. Max groaned at the idea of being dragged back to the manor, his father waiting at the door to give him the standard half hour lecture about 'Tradition' and 'Family Business' and everything else the ‘Young Lord’ had no interest in. Fourteen separate attempts at escape didn't seem to make it sink into his father's thick head that Max didn't care one iota for gold or diamonds or whatever the hell this town mined out of the mountains. All he wanted, all he ever asked for, was to get out of town and see the world his overbearing parents claimed was "too dangerous and unwieldy" for someone of noble blood to be exposed to. But noble blood spilt just as easily as that of a commoner's, a fact that Max continuously reminded his father of whenever one of his attempts to flee ended in injury.

"This is getting ridiculous," the Captain said as his horse came to a halt next to the exhausted youth. "You turn sixteen in less than a month. It's about time you grew up and stopped acting like a spoiled brat!"

"Really, is that what I am?" Max responded. "A spoiled brat? Haven't you lot realized yet I'm trying to get AWAY from the rich and easy life?"

"Enough. You're going back to the manor this instant. If you resist, I'm going to tell your father that the broken arm was an accident."

"Are you threatening me Captain?"

"No, I'm promising you."

The two stared at each other, each trying to glare the other into submission. But since Captain Ironclad was on a horse, it was clear who was winning. The Captain nodded to one of his men, who clambered off his horse and stepped forward to grab hold of Max.

The wind started to blow through a nearby tree as Max sighed heavily and gave himself up. The guard that approached him took his arm and pulled him toward the horse, just as another gust of wind tore through the tree. Ironclad jerked his gaze away from Max to squint his eyes at the tree, after a few moments the leaves rustled again, only this time it was accompanied by a small whomp sound. It was like the sound a large fan made when it was brought downward.

"Get him on that horse." Ironclad said sternly. "Now."

"I'm trying sir,” The guard who had taken hold of Max said. “But he's making this harder than it needs to be."

"Am not." Max said as he tried to make it look as if he'd never mounted a horse in his life.

"Then just toss him over it!" The captain said as his eyes frantically scanned the clouds above him. Another breeze, stronger than the others and accompanied by an even louder whomp, caused his beard to blow about. "We need to leave!"

"Sir." One of the other guards said. "That isn't what I think it is... is it?"

"We won't have to wait long to find out if we don't leave right this instant Lieutenant."

"Something got your beard in a twist Iron?" Max taunted, oblivious to what was going on as he continued to jerk the guard's chain.

"DO YOU WANT TO DIE BOY?" The captain screamed. "GET ON THAT HORSE RIGHT NOW OR SO HELP ME-"

The clouds above them seemed to explode as something fell out of them and dive bombed the group. It's massive wings spread to slow its decent slightly before it hit the ground right next to them. The creature lifted its head and roared at the small cavalry of horses and men. Max was flung from his horse as all six of the steeds decided to bolt and run as far away from the huge scaly beast as they possibly could. The men on the horses were screaming in horror as they ducked their heads down and allowed their mounts to take them where they may. Only two were left now in the shadow of the fifty foot long monster: Max, and the guard who'd been trying to get him on his horse. Max had fallen to the ground in the confusion, but the guard had managed to remain on his feet. The nameless guardsman looked right into the face of the beast and started to quiver and mumble in terror. He went for his sword and pulled it out, only to lose his grip on it and drop it to the ground, which only made him start whimpering even more. The winged creature lowered its head until it was only a few inches in front of the guard's face, and then after a few moments, a snort of black soot shot from the monster's nostrils, covering the top half of the guard in ashy black dust. The guard began to scream and run in the direction of the town at this, leaving Max behind.

"DRAGON!" The guard shouted in his retreat. "Dear gods it's a DRAGON!"

Max pulled himself up into a sitting position, holding his head as he did so to try and stop the pounding of his heart which dominated his hearing. After a moment the sound of heavy breathing was heard above him, he looked up and saw the dragon's face right above him, staring right into his eyes. Max didn't move, he was too petrified with fear to do anything but sit there and wait for either the dragon to burn him alive or snap him up in its powerful jaws. The two stayed that way for almost a solid minute before the dragon's maw finally opened.

"Why aren't you running?" Said a powerful and gruff, yet distinctly female, voice.

Max didn't know what to say. That voice definitely came from the creature above him, but the idea of such a monster being capable of actual speech was almost as shocking as its initial appearance. This monster from the old stories was actually intelligent, and Max didn't know if that made him more or less frightened than he already was.

"The rest of your friends ran." The dragoness said jerking her head at the town. "Are you just stupid or something?"

"I... I..." was all Max got out.

"You seem to have trouble speaking, so I'm going to go with 'Stupid.'"

"I'm not stupid!" Max shouted, before shrinking back and trying to pull his eyes away from her's. "It's just... you're a dragon!"

"Aye. And you are a human. What of it?"

"Well... it's just that... I mean I..."

"Find your tongue Human!" The dragon shouted. "Or you will find yourself on mine!"

Max flinched and covered his head with his arms as he pressed himself into the ground. "No, please!" He cried out. "I meant no offence!"

The sound of deep chuckling however came from the dragon's throat. "So you are afraid!" She said. "Good to know!"

"Of course I'm afraid!" Max shouted, his voice cracking slightly. "You just threatened to eat me!"

"An empty threat I assure you." The dragon said as she elected to stop standing and laid her massive body on the ground where she could still look down at the cowering human. "You lot aren't the most appetizing creatures. Too much dead animal skin and metal covering you all the time, and most of you don't even have enough meat to actually make it worth the effort."

"Th-that's... good to know. I guess." Max sat back up, but scooted back as far as he dared.

"Besides, it'd bring me no end of trouble if I killed you in any way. One human death or one building lost to fire and suddenly the entire countryside is scurrying with knights looking to 'Slay the mighty beast' for a chance at some semblance of glory. No, it's best if I keep a low profile."

"Then why did you just dive bomb the guards just now?"

The dragon smiled sheepishly at this. "Sometimes it's just fun to put the fear of Bahamut into you lot. You all scare so easily. And I could use the entertainment when I'm making long distance flights."

Max couldn't help but smirk at this, the idea of Captain Ironclad running away like a dog with its tail between its legs was very humorous. "Well, if I may say," Max started. "You definitely scarred the wits out of old Ironclad and his men. Serves them right."

"Oh?" The dragon said. "Well that was indeed my intention. You said they were guards, you aren't a prison escapee, are you?"

"No not at all! Though I suppose it wouldn't be too far a stretch to say I'm a prisoner."

The dragon swung its head about, scanning the countryside. "Well I don't see any guards, so I guess you're not a prisoner anymore."

"Yeah... I'm free..."

"Your welcome." The dragon said stiffly. "Normally I'd ask for something in return for freeing an escaped prisoner from his handlers, but you don't look like you've got much on you worth taking."

"No, I don't have anything really, aside from a bit of gold."

The dragon's eyes twitched at the mention of gold, but otherwise she didn't move. Beast and man sat quietly for an excessively long time, the slightly chilly air not doing much to encourage continued conversation.

"So. What will you do now?" The dragons asked.

"I... well I thought I'd try to make it through the mountains. There's another town I might try my hand in."

"The mountains?" The dragon chuckled under her breath. "A scrawny little thing like you would never make it! Now if you had wings like mine," She stretched out her massive wings "Such a trip would be child's play!" Max couldn't help but agree. Wings would definitely be appreciated at the moment.

After a few minutes of silence, with man and beast simply staring at each other, Max decided that it was best he left. Slowly he rose to a standing position, the dragon watching him carefully as he did so.

"Well..." Max said as he started to back away. "It was nice talking to you... but I think I'll take my leave now."

"Hold." The dragon said as Max started to turn. "I believe you when you say you don't have much on you, but those clothes you wear... no mere commoner would wear them."

Max swallowed hard as he slowly turned back toward the dragon, a glint of mischievous intent in her eyes. "Yes, well, my Father is Lord Galestrom. He owns the mines in this area."

"Really?" The dragon asked, clearly getting excited as she rose to her full height and forcing Max to crane his neck just to keep her head in view. "I don't suppose your father would be willing to pay a hefty ransom for you, would he?"

Max could have sworn all the blood in his body drained right out into the grass. "I-I thought you said you didn't want to draw attention to yourself!" Max stuttered.

“I did, but a large sum of gold for my hoard would be worth a little bit of trouble.” The dragon slowly reached a taloned claw towards Max. “Maybe I’ll bring you home and tell dear papa that if he doesn’t want me to eat you he’ll pay a handsome fee of jewels and gold for your safe return.”

Max decided that might be a good sign that he needed to start running. When the dragon swooped its claw down to grab at him, he ducked and rolled underneath it, before straightening up and running with all his might. Unfortunately, his brief respite from his earlier sprint was not enough of a rest for him and he quickly started to struggle for breath in the cold night air. The dragon seemed bemused by this attempted escape and merely trotted alongside Max, right into the foothills of the mountains. There, in the steep terrain, his legs finally gave out. The dragon chuckled and brought a claw over him, grabbing Max by his backpack and lifting him into the air to examine him.

“Adorable,” the dragoness said.

“Fine,” Max huffed in exhaustion. “Take me back to my father, just please don’t eat me.”

“Ughh, really?” The dragon rolled her eyes, obviously starting to get irritated. “Can’t you humans take a joke? I was kidding.” Max lifted his head and looked up at the smirking face of his captor. “I have all the treasure I could possibly want back home, and plenty of more lucrative opportunities to get more if I really wanted to. And besides,” the dragon paused, seemingly contemplating some unknown consequences. “Mother Hlal would kill me if I made an enemy out of humans.”

“Hlal?” Max cocked his head to the side.

“She’s the leader of my clan, and the dragon who raised me.” The dragon sat on her haunches and lifted her other claw, pointing a talon to the sky and talking in a studious manner. “Mamma says that the mortal races are like children, weak and helpless, but brimming with imagination. She says that you should only harm a mortal if they threaten your clan, Dragon Culture as a whole, or the lives of many many other mortals.”

Max raised an eyebrow at that explanation. He never liked being called a child, but he had to admit there was something refreshing about hearing every other human in his life a child too. The dragon stared back at him smugly, as if proud of the fact that she’d paid attention so well to her mother’s words. She didn’t stop staring either, she just kept smiling at Max, waiting for some sort of response. Max just shifted awkwardly, hanging from the straps of his pack started to get uncomfortable, and the silence even more so.

“Soooo,” Max said. “You gonna put me down now?”

“Well that all depends,” the dragon chuckled. “You said you wanted to go to the town in the next valley over, but that seems like the first place your father would look for you. You ought to get out of the country all together.”

“That’s impossible.” Max shook his head. “Even if I could go as far as I could, I’d have to stop at the sea. I barely have enough gold for a few weeks worth of bread, let alone a boat that could take me to another country.”

“Then how about this, you give me whatever gold you have, and I’ll consider it your travel fare for flying you across the Northern Channel and taking you to my Clan’s valley. There’s a village there I could drop you off in, far beyond your father’s reach.”

“Y-you would?” Max, honestly, thought that sounded too good to be true. Not only was this dragon not going to eat him, but she was going to help him get away from his father? And all for a few handfuls of gold?

“I most certainly would, but you’d better decide quickly, because I can hear your guard friends coming back, and it sounds like the entire town is coming with them. I’d rather not stick around for that if you don’t mind.”

Max took a deep breath, trying to calm his mind. Even if the dragon did kill him, it’d probably serve his no good father right to lose his heir so suddenly when Max was so close to becoming an adult. Max just had to hope it’d be a quick and merciful death.

“Alright,” he said apprehensively. “Deal.”

“Good,” the dragoness said, readjusting Max in her claw and then bringing him close to her chest, securing him tightly with her other claw. “Hold on tight human, I’m told the mortal races don’t take well to flying at first.”

Max felt the air around him get riled up as the dragon flapped her wings once, twice, and three times before she lifted up into the air. Her massive wings continued to make powerful strokes that propelled her higher and higher into the air. Through the gaps in her claws, Max’s terror stricken eyes could see the world disappear into the darkness of night, only the wind and the howl of the wind remained. He was far too scared to even scream, so he simply tightens his grip on the dragon’s scaly hands.

When they reached a cruising altitude and the dragon’s wing flaps became less frequent, she gently pulled Max away from her chest and looked down at him. “What’s your name, human?”

Max, who had shut his eyes tight and gripped her claws even tighter for fear she was about to drop him, could barely get out a reply. “M-Max! My name is Max!”

The dragon laughed at his terror before pulling him back close to her. “Nice to meet you Max, my name is Uair Glainne, or ‘Hourglass’ in your tongue. Pleasure to have you along for the ride."

[joeybelle]

Starlight - Chapter 20

Relationship: Cassian Andor / Original Female Character

Rating: Mature/Explicit

Tags: Pre-Rogue One, Romance, Feels, Hurt-Comfort, Bit of Smut

With only an hour or so left of her shift, Cora was eager to get everything done as fast as possible so she could get back to her room and call it a day, even if that meant going down to Storage to grab a few more supplies and restock the medical cabinets. At least, when Doctor Crane would take over the med bay, he’d find it fully stocked and functional. It was certainly something that could have been done by a droid, but she decided that taking a walk would do her good. If nothing else, she’d be out of the med bay for a while. It hadn’t been a particularly busy shift and even with some of the doctors still incapacitated by the flu, Cora had still somehow managed to get bored.

The past couple of days had been really silent, with everyone away on missions, it left very few people on base to get sick. Cora only had to deal with some cases of the flu, mainly amongst the medical personnel, and the occasional hangover. However, around noon some of the wounded rebels started coming back to base. It seemed the conflict had become more violent and the confrontations more frequent than before. Cora was horrified by some of the stories she heard. This war looked so different now that she was on the other side of the barricade.

Fortunately, none of the ones that came back until then was seriously injured. Nothing that couldn’t be fixed with a few bacta patches and a lot of bed rest. Which was a good thing, because it helped her put her mind at ease. Somehow, she kept expecting Cassian to be amongst them, badly injured, her anxious mind making her worry a lot more than was necessary.

She hadn’t heard from him in a few days, ever since they spent the night together. She assumed he was still on Samarkand, taking care of business, but she had no way of knowing for sure. Melshi was away and Lewella wasn’t in touch with either of them when they were out on missions, so Cora had no choice but to hope he was ok and patiently (more or less) await his return.

Which wasn’t an easy feat. She quickly discovered that she wasn’t a very patient person, and certainly not a very composed one. In the past, it had been easy to appear calm when she had nothing to look forward to and every day was the same shit. She hated the nervousness that came with caring about someone, but she felt more alive right now than she had in years. And that was a good thing, at least according to Lewella. Cora wasn’t very convinced.

Still, she did her best to temperate it as much as she could and not let it interfere with her work life. She found it was much easier to deal with the nervousness when she was doing something than when she was being inactive, so she made sure to fill all her time with whatever task was at hand. Like going down to Storage and grabbing some supplies instead of just staring out the med bay window, sighing like a lovestruck maiden.

There was no rush, so after she got all the things she needed and spent a few minutes chatting with the personnel, she walked up as slowly as possible. The droids would call her if something happened, so there was no need to hurry. And that’s why, when she noticed that the door to the War Room was open and someone was yelling, she stopped to sneak a peak.

She wasn’t surprised at all to find out that the one yelling was Draven—even if she hadn’t recognized his voice, she was always expecting to see Draven whenever anyone was screaming—but she was really taken aback when she recognized the one who was being yelled at: it was Cassian. He was standing at attention, his back turned to the door, but it was clearly him, Cora was sure of it. And yet his presence there was so unexpected and absurd, that she just stood in the doorway, dumbfounded.

“It’s inexcusable,” the General yelled, his face a grimace of anger, something Cora was sure of even though she couldn’t see clearly, “that an officer with your experience could make such a mistake. Exposing yourself and the Alliance. Jeopardizing the mission. Putting your men’s lives at risk. Ruining one of our best hideouts. This is a major fiasco, Captain!”

“I have no excuse,” Cassian replied, his voice sounding hollow and so devoid of any emotion that Cora almost didn’t recognize him. A cold shiver ran down her spine.

“It’s something I didn’t expect from someone with your experience, Captain. Especially from you. I am very disappointed,” the General said, walking around his desk, his voice having turned somewhat softer, but Cora could still sense the underlying anger. Her heart was beating fast and she knew listening in wasn’t ethical, but she just couldn’t convince herself to leave, so she just took a step back, getting out of his line of sight. “Maybe you’re tired, and you need some time off,” he continued, his voice now even and composed, but still full of malice. “Maybe this war is finally getting to you, maybe you’re not as good as we thought you were,” he laughed, an almost dry laughter devoid of any humour, that made Cora’s skin crawl. “You should take some time off, before you get yourself and who knows how many others killed.”

Cora took a few steps further away from the door, trying to compose herself. She was starting to get angry. Draven was insufferable on a good day, but until now it was only her who he had treated like shit, as far as she knew. Yes, everyone said he was a little too serious and short-tempered, but he had always been fair. This was far from being fair, and she had a feeling this ‘conversation’ had been going on for a while. She had never seen Draven calm down and stop yelling in less than half an hour. She didn’t know what Cassian had done wrong, but she knew him well enough to know that whatever it was, he certainly didn’t deserve the mocking tone Draven was using and the spite in his words.

She edged closer to the open door, listening in once again. Luckily, there was no one in the corridor right now to see what she was doing, otherwise she’d have some explaining to do. The yelling had died down, but not the animosity.

“You are hereby relieved of all of your duties, Captain. You will be replaced by someone else on Samarkand. You will stay on base until you will be needed again.” He sounded bitter.

“Yes, Sir!” Cassian’s automatic reply sent another shiver down Cora’s spine.

“Please head to the infirmary to get your wounds checked up, Captain. I wouldn’t want you dying from an infection or something.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Infirmary, shit! That’s where she was supposed to be and not eavesdropping, especially if it involved her superiors. She considered bolting, trying to not get caught, but she wasn’t very fast and there was nowhere to hide in the open space of the corridor. At least she hoped it would look like she was just passing the War Room on her way to the med bay, so she started walking away at an even pace, eyes glued to the floor.

“Doctor,” she heard Cassian call her, before she managed to get away.

She stopped and turned around, swallowing hard. “Yes, Captain?” Her voice sounded pathetic she was sure of it. She wished she could hide the fact that she had overheard the conversation, but she was currently too flustered for that to even be an option.

Cassian looked pretty ragged, that was the first thing she noticed. He seemed drained, his skin looking waxy, with big, dark circles under his eyes. Right off the bat she noticed the bacta patch precariously stuck to his forehead, the big, dark stain on his left thigh, that looked like dried blood, and the bandage on his right hand. Right above the edge of his collar she could see a few dark bruises, and Cora wondered how big they actually were. She’d soon find out.

“Follow me,” she said, urging him to move.

He obediently followed her to the med bay, while Cora tried to assess how much of him was broken. She really wanted to be happy that he was back and alive (for now), but it seemed like she didn’t worry for nothing. He had once again come back in a rather bad shape. The urge to yell at him was pretty strong, to try and get some self-preservations skills through his thick skull, but he had been yelled at enough for one day and from the way he silently followed her, looking like a lost puppy, he didn’t seem to be taking it very well.

Cora guided him to a consultation room, one that was further back, giving them a little privacy, and dismissed the med droids. They beeped in frustration, but Cora ignored them. She would handle this on her own.

“Scanner, please,” she told him, while she was washing her hands and putting on a pair of gloves.

The full body scanner showed most of the damage, and Cora looked for signs of life threatening injuries first. He had a concussion and a pretty ugly laceration on his forehead, that was just starting to heal, but if it hadn’t killed him until now, she hoped it won’t do it in the future either. It looked like he remembered to smear some bacta on it from time to time, but it didn’t seem to have been a priority. She sighed.

“How long ago did you sustain these injuries?” she asked, taking note of his broken arm (two metacarpal bones and the ulna in two places) and a superficial blaster wound on his left thigh. Apart from four cracked ribs, the rest were just bruises and a multitude of scrapes and scratches. For the first time the idea of shoving him whole in a bacta tank seemed feasible.

“Two days ago,” he answered, a little uncertain. “I think.”

Cora raised an eyebrow. “Any cases of memory loss, blackouts, double vision?” He denied it, but she wasn’t very convinced so she shone a light into his eyes just to make sure. “Dizziness, sluggishness, anything of sorts?” she pressed on.

“Yes,” he said, stepping away from the scanner. “Sometimes. Not very often, though.”

Sometimes. Cora was amazed by his need to try and diminish the gravity of his wounds. She imagined that even on his deathbed he’d just dismiss it as ‘it’s just a scratch, I’ve had worse’.

“Well, you’re not dying,” Cora concluded, and tried hard not to add ‘yet’ and make it sound ominous, “but you’re not looking too good either.” She sighed. “But I guess that comes as no surprise.”

“No.”

“Alright, take everything off and hop on the table. You’ll be as good as new when I finish. Almost.” She was using a lighter tone, a fake lightheartedness, trying to hide that she was in fact a little shaken. She couldn’t be completely collected and professional when Cassian was the one who was hurt.

“Everything?” he asked, and any other time she might have taken it for flirting, but he sounded so distant that Cora felt a little taken aback.

“No, just enough for me to be able to get to your wounds. Whatever you’re comfortable with,” she added. “I’ll fetch you a hospital gown.”

“It isn’t necessary,” he said, stopping her before she could take another step. “It’s fine.”

He stripped down to his boxers and laid on the table. Cora looked away while he was taking his clothes off, making herself busy with some equipment, even though there was nothing she hadn’t seen before, nothing that she hadn’t touched or kissed. But it felt like there was a rift between them right now, and they were back to strictly being doctor and patient. Not secret lovers, maybe not even friends. It showed how frail the connection between them was.

She hooked him to an IV, then checked his head first. The scanner had showed that it was the most serious injury. Her hands were shaking slightly, an almost imperceptible movement that revealed her inner turmoil. She couldn’t be calm, not after what she’d heard and not after she’d seen Cassian alive, but hurt. He wasn’t dying, she tried reminding herself, she’d seen him injured like this before. But she didn’t have feelings for him then, and feelings were making her anxiety levels go through the roof. However, she didn’t let it stop her from doing her job properly.

Hidden under the bacta patch was a deep gash that went from his forehead to the top of his head and was already healing. It would leave an ugly scar if she left it like that, so she cleaned the wound, straightened its edges and then carefully stitched it. Cassian was a good patient, as always if you managed to get him on the table, silent and unmoving, but this time Cora found the silence surprisingly heavy.

“So, Captain, how did you get this whole buffet of injuries?” she asked, moving onto the wound on his leg, once his head had been taken care of. There was a damp, dirty bandage tightly wrapped around it, and blood had seeped through it. It looked like it had been dressed in a hurry and not cared for properly. By the looks of it, he had probably showered with it on, not bothering to change it afterwards. It was a plain bandage, no bacta, no trace of any medication. She cut through it and noticed that the wound had gotten infected. “Or is that classified information?”

For a moment he didn’t reply, and Cora wondered if he was just going to ignore her.

“I got caught in a wreckage. There was an explosion, and I got caught under some rubble,” came the unexpected explanation, and Cora’s eyes widened. She stopped working for a few moments, just staring dumbly at him, and it must have been a pretty comical sight because Cassian snickered. It was the first time that evening that he showed any sort of emotion.

“You survived an explosion with only these injuries?” she asked, blinking like an owl caught in the headlights. “You’re one lucky bastard,” she muttered, going back to cleaning his wound. Right now she was sure she shouldn’t have asked. She didn’t need to know what dangers he was facing. It was enough that she was imagining the worst possible, she didn’t need the certainty if she ever wanted to sleep at night.

She cleaned and bandaged his wound. Honestly, it looked like it had been made by a blaster, and not by an explosion, but she decided not to ask. She assumed the whole thing had actually been a lot worse than he was telling her, but she didn’t need to know. Ignorance is bliss, she thought. She should be thankful that, against all odds, he was still alive.

“How do you do it?” she asked, once his leg was properly bandaged, moving on to his broken hand. It was secured with two wooden splints, but by the looks of it, he had still used it and didn’t let it rest. Luckily, the bones were still in place, so it didn’t require surgery.

“How do I do what?” he asked, opening his eyes and moving his head slightly to look at her.

“How are you able to put yourself in danger like that. Almost getting killed, and then going back like nothing ever happened,” she said, not looking him in the eye. He was still looking at her, she could see it in the corner of her eye, but she wasn’t able to read anything in his blank expression. “Aren’t you ever afraid?”

He let out a long breath. “You get used to it, I guess.”

“How do you get used to the possibility that you might die at any moment? That every mistake can lead to your death?” She asked looking at him with a quirked eyebrow. To her surprise he was smiling. A tiny smile, in the corner of his mouth, but a smile nonetheless.

“We all die at some point. It will happen no matter what you do. Once you get used to that thought, it becomes less frightening.” He let out another deep breath and closed his eyes, relaxing once again. “Life is fleeting. I think you know that better than anyone. You’re more accustomed to death than any of us.”

“It’s not me that’s dying,” she muttered, going back to work. She could feel the selfishness in her own words, but it was the truth: she wasn’t the one dying. And she always felt that as long as she wasn’t the one in danger of losing her life, she had nothing to be scared of. But she realized how wrong she had been, because right now she had his life to worry about.

“Isn’t that worse? Having other people’s lives in your hands, not knowing if you’ll be able to save them or not?”

She smiled, but didn’t look up. “You get used to it, I guess.”

They were silent after that, but it wasn’t as heavy as before. Cassian’s timid smiles had assured her that he was still human and still capable of showing emotion. It would be alright, she told herself, and wondered if he didn’t need to hear those words too. Still, she didn’t want to reveal that she had overheard Draven’s rant. For now, and maybe for ever, they would just pretend it didn’t happen.

For the rest of his wounds, there wasn’t much she could do, besides disinfect the cuts and smear them in a generous amount of bacta. Even though she could tell he had showered recently, there were still traces of thick, grey dust in places that were hard to reach for someone with a broken arm and a few cracked ribs. She wiped them down with a disinfecting towel. It was an intimate gesture, at least for her. To him, it probably seemed like she was simply just doing her job, but she could have just asked a med droid to spray him with bacta and finish in five minutes what took her almost half an hour to achieve. However, she wanted to make sure that every cut and bruise was cleaned and properly taken care of, because this wasn’t just a random patient, this was a man she deeply cared about.

“You’re all done,” she said, placing the bacta tube on the tray and taking her gloves off. She had done a great job smearing bacta gel on every visible bruise and cut, so Cassian was all shiny and slimy, just like a human shaped slug. She tried hard to stifle a laugh. “I’m going to get you an IV sleeve and you’re going to keep it on tonight. I’m giving you some mild antibiotics for your leg wound and some painkillers to help you sleep. Please leave the bacta on until tomorrow morning, it will smear all over your sheets, but it’s easily washable,” she said, preparing the medication cocktail. “If you feel your condition worsening, please come to the med bay ASAP.”

“Wait, you’re letting me go?” he asked, trying to put on his shirt, but flinching when he lifted his arms.

Cora got up to help him. “I should keep you here,” she said, pulling the shirt over his head, “but I have a feeling we’d just argue about it for fifteen minutes and you’d be out the door the moment I turn my back to you anyway.” He smiled, and Cora couldn’t help but run her fingers through his hair, trying to straighten it a little, careful not to touch his stitches. “But please, try to stay in bed and not go anywhere this time,” she begged.

In the blink of an eye his mood changed, the smile turning into a frown once again. “It’s not like I have anywhere to go anyway,” he said, putting on the rest of his clothes. He was once again avoiding her gaze, so Cora left him alone and went back to prepping the IV.

“There you go,” she said once the sleeve was fixed in place over his left forearm, the one that wasn’t broken. “Keep it in place tonight and come for a checkup tomorrow. I have a day off, but if you come early enough you’ll still catch Doctor Crane. If not, Lew’s manning the ER tomorrow. Try not to die,” she added and wanted to pat his shoulder, but remembered the damage that was underneath his clothes so she took a step back, afraid not to hurt him. Even breathing on him seemed dangerous.

“I will. Thank you, Doctor.” There was a brief, tense moment between them, as they silently looked into eachother's eyes clearly wanting to say something else, but maybe both being too afraid to actually go on and say it. So the moment passed and he was out the door.

“Good evening, Captain,” Doctor Crane greeted him from the main area of the med bay. He was putting away the supplies that Cora had brought from Storage—and completely forgotten about. “It’s good to see you back in one piece. Although, if you’re visiting us I assume that piece is at least a little broken,” he said, scanning Cassian over his reading glasses.

“I’ll be fine, I just need to rest,” Cassian said, the phrase sounding once again like something that came out of reflex. The doctor nodded, like he knew exactly what that meant. He probably did, he had known Cassian for a long time.

He suddenly seemed very eager to leave, fidgeting nervously and eyeing the door, so Cora decided to end his misery. She told him once again to come for a check-up in the morning and to move as little as possible, giving his body time to heal, and he nodded, but she wasn’t sure he had listened to any of the words she said. Finally, they said goodbye and he was gone.

“Do you think it’s wise letting him go?” the doctor asked, going back to sorting the supplies.

“Honestly, I don’t know,” she said, crossing her arms. “I hope I didn’t make a mistake, but he’s had a bad day already, I didn’t want to make it worse.”

“Yes, I’ve heard.”

Cora looked at the doctor. She wondered if he knew about it because they’d discussed in the Council, or he just knew it like he seemed to know everything that happened on base.

“I’ve put a monitor sensor in his sleeve, It should beep it anything happens.”

“Good, good. I’ll keep an eye on him. You get changed and get out of here, your shift ended half an hour ago.”

Cora quietly did as she was told, not offering to do overtime like she would have done any other day. She wasn’t particularly tired—or at least, she shouldn’t have been after a pretty easy shift—but she needed rest. She needed to just lay in bed with all the lights off and try not to think about anything for a while. She had brooded enough and even though she was still worrying about Cassian she had to stop: he was fine, he would be fine. And if anything happened, she was close enough to do something about it. There was no need to feel so powerless. But her brain just refused to understand that.

It was still pretty early (by her standards), so she stopped by the mess hall on her way downstairs. There wasn’t much food left, but she managed to put together a filling sandwich. That, and a cup of warm, milky tea left her full and content. After a quick shower she assumed she’d immediately fall asleep, but it seemed that even if her mind was tired her body wasn’t, so she wrapped herself in blankets, but couldn’t fall asleep to save her life. She laid still for a while, enjoying the relaxing feeling of being in her own bed, but then, when sleep just refused to come she started tossing and turning until the frustration became too much. She threw the blankets off of her and got up.

“This is so shit,” she told Ben, who probably agreed with her from his dimly lit tank.

She went to the bathroom and washed her face then came back and poured herself a glass of water. She sat at her desk and looked around. There wasn’t much to do to occupy her time. There were a handful of books on a shelf, but she’d already read and reread them whenever nightmares were tormenting her so she almost knew them by heart. There were no reports for her to do, no paperwork, nothing. She didn’t really spend time her room, coming home only to sleep, shower and change her clothes, so she never really bothered to fill it with too many things. Except for cushions. She had a lot of cushions.

After about ten minutes of silent pondering she decided she’d have to get dressed and get out of there. Probably go back to work, since she didn’t have many friends besides her colleagues and no one else would be up at that hour anyway. Maybe she’d go to the ER and help whomever was working the night shift. At least there she would have company and something to do until her body would be tired enough and her mind ready to switch off.

But right after she got up the chair and headed for the closet, she heard a light tapping on the door. The sense of deja-vu was overwhelming as she opened the door to reveal Cassian leaning on her doorframe.

“Hello,” she said, smiling at him. “Come here often?” He was cheekily smiling back and looked undoubtedly more alive than he did a couple of hours back, so she assumed the treatment was working.

“Often enough,” he said, and Cora moved away from the door, inviting him in.

“Why aren’t you in bed?” she asked, placing her hands around his neck once the automatic door closed behind him. He might have been feeling a little better thanks to the drugs, but he was far from being healed, and Cora wasn’t going to ignore his wounds just because he wasn’t looking like the walking dead anymore. He snaked his arms around her waist and pulled her closer, totally disregarding his broken ribs. Cora flinched at the contact, imagining the pain, but quickly relaxed into his embrace.

“I couldn’t sleep,” he mumbled and placed a chaste kiss on her lips. The simplicity and ease of the gesture showed a familiarity Cora wasn’t used to, but she wasn’t complaining.

“Do you want me to give you a sedative?” she offered, pointing towards the medical cabinet in the corner, her duty as a medic taking over for a second. “It would help you get some sleep. I can also get you some more painkillers if you want.” It was a good thing that Cassian didn’t seem surprised that she was hoarding painkillers and sedatives in her room.

He sighed, and feeling that she was trying to wiggle away from his embrace, pulled her closer and held her tightly. “I’m not here to see a doctor.”

“Too bad, cause you’re looking at one,” she said, affectionately brushing a strand of hair from his forehead.

“But you’re off duty.” There was a not so well hidden plea in his voice and she felt a little bad for him, so she gave him a quick peck on the lips. However, his safety was still more important than his feelings.

“Not until you’re fully healed,” she argued, pointing a finger at his nose. He responded by taking her hand in his and kissing the soft skin on her wrist. “You’re not getting away that easily.” She tried resisting his charm, she really did try, but he was looking at her with his beautiful brown eyes and she felt like she was slowly losing her resolve.

She gave up for now, knowing how stubborn he could be sometimes and not wanting to turn this into a full blown argument. Instead, she carefully placed her hands on his chest and leaned in for a kiss. Kissing him felt so good, melting away all her worries, the anxiety of the past few days disappearing slowly as a tingling sensation in the pit of her stomach grew. She knew it was just a temporary feeling, but she was happy that he was ok and in her arms again.

“You know,” she said after a while, reluctantly breaking the kiss, “that you’re not cleared for any physical activity, right? That, unfortunately, includes sex.”

He looked bewildered for a couple of seconds, but then he regained control of his face. “I’m willing to take that risk,” he said, and with a determined look on his face cupped her cheeks and pressed his lips to hers once again, this time with even more eagerness.

“But what if you die?” She giggled, trying to escape his lips, but he was persistent. She may have made it seem like a joke, but there was a real possibility that he could die. Ok, maybe she was exaggerating with the dying, but it would certainly delay the healing by a few days or maybe even weeks.

“It will be worth it.” He sneaked his hands under her top, making her gasp at the sudden contact. “Isn’t that the best way to go?”

“Maybe,” she laughed. “But seriously now,” she said, gently removing his hands from her skin, suddenly hyper aware of his broken arm, the cast feeling cold and unnatural in the palm of her hand. “For your safety and my peace of mind, I can’t let you do this. I’m sorry, I know you’re feeling ok right now,” she added, noticing his disappointed expression, “but you have to be careful with that concussion. And all the rest. Plus, doesn’t everything hurt, how can you even think of sex in your condition?”

“It’s a distraction.” He shrugged and Cora felt really sympathetic for him. She assumed it wasn’t just a distraction for the pain, in fact it could very well add to it, but for the shitty day he must have had. She could still see a shadow on his face whenever he wasn’t actively smiling and even though he seemed to be ok, joking and enjoying her company, Cora didn’t think he was completely over it. He had this air of ‘abandoned puppy’ that made her heart melt.

She was so weak, though, she thought, accepting her defeat with a smile. “A compromise could be made,” she offered, letting her hands graze over his chest and eventually fall to his belt buckle, still a little unsure if this was a good idea, but whatever, if she was going to kill him at least he’d die happy. “But we still have a problem.”

“And that is?” he asked, and as she let go of his hands they went back under her top, caressing as much skin he could reach. Cora leaned into his touch, his hands on her skin feeling like they belonged there.

“You have a monitor sensor in your IV sleeve,” she said, sucking in a sharp breath when his lips ghosted over the skin on her neck and his one good hand went down from her waist and started feeling her ass through the thin material of her slacks. It took some self control not to shove him on her bed and fuck him senseless, breaking a few more ribs in the process and god knows what else. It didn’t help that apart from worrying about him for the past few days she had also been lusting for his touch whenever she was alone and allowed herself to think about the times they had spent together. Fortunately, this time the worry for his wellbeing managed to overpower arousal. “If your heart rate goes up past a certain level it will set off an alarm. Doctor Crane promised he’ll keep an eye on you.”

“Then take it off,” he stated, like it was the most obvious thing in the world, too busy nibbling at her skin to share her concerns.

“Well, that will set off another alarm, because the monitor will think your heart has stopped,” she explained. “And we’ll end up with Doctor Crane at my doorstep.”

“Don’t you worry about that. He won’t come,” he said, but Cora tensed up only thinking about it. She’d have a lot of explaining to do. Cassian sensed it and took a step back, looking at her, eyebrow raised. “He’s seen me walk away so I’m pretty sure he won’t think I’ve died.”

“He’s seen you walk away and did nothing to stop you?” It was Cora’s turn to raise an eyebrow.

“Why would he stop me?” He seemed genuinely puzzled. “Listen, Cora, he’s known me for years, and he knows that the moment I feel something’s wrong I’ll come to see him. I’m not that stupid. It isn’t just luck that has kept me alive all these years.”

“I highly doubt that,” she said under her breath.

“You’re the only one that worries that much.”

“Doubt that too,” she remarked. “But how could I not worry when you’re injured more than you’re not? You were bleeding when I first met you and it feels like this has been a leitmotif ever since.” She sighed and looked down. It wasn’t his fault, after all. Or perhaps it was, but it wasn’t like he was getting injured on purpose, that’s just how his life was. Being hurt and risking his life was an integral part of his job. And who was she to demand that he change anything about it.

She felt his arms circle her shoulders, but this time it was a gentle embrace, devoid of the lust that had guided his hands until then. “I’m sorry,” he said kissing the top of her head, his voice almost a whisper. “I don’t want you to worry about me.”

Cora nodded and rested her head on his shoulder. She could feel his heartbeat underneath her fingers, a faint, comforting sound. It was peaceful, standing embraced like that, it almost seemed like time had stopped. She inched one of her hands underneath his shirt, letting her fingers softly graze over the skin on his abdomen. She could feel the scratches and she remembered where every bruise was, after all she had covered them all in bacta… And wait a second.

“You showered,” she said, and it felt like the cross between a question and an accusation.

“Yes,” he answered, his face scrunched in confusion. “Was I supposed not to?”

“I specifically told you twice to leave the bacta on until morning. And the first thing you do is go back to your room and shower?” She had taken a step back and was now frowning, arms crossed and almost tapping her foot on the floor. Cassian looked both confused and incredibly guilty. He’d either forgotten, didn’t listen to her when she said it, or plain didn’t care. She sighed audibly. “Do you do this on purpose?”

“Of course not,” he said, but his voice didn’t inspire much trust. “It just felt slimy and it was getting everywhere.”

“And it was also healing your broken bones.” She headed over to the medical cabinet and pulled out an industrial sized jar of bacta. “Clothes off, I’m gonna apply a new layer,” she instructed in the same tone she used with her most stubborn patients.

She expected to hear him protest, but instead he chuckled. “All of them?” he asked, and Cora noticed that this time the words contained the allusion she had been expecting. He was smirking, that crooked smile she had grown so fond of, looking at her with heavy lidded eyes.

“Well, I don’t know, Captain,” she said, throwing the unopened jar on her bed, coming near him once again. “Depends how much you are comfortable with taking off.” She teasingly moved a finger down his neck and over that patch of hair that could be seen above his open collar.

He smirked so she kissed him and snaked her fingers under his shirt, pulling it up. He lifted up his arms, letting her undress him. He was still bruised, angry purple and blue colouring his skin. She gently kissed along his collarbone, the smell of bacta still lingering on his skin despite the shower, before unbuckling his belt and letting his trousers fall to the floor.

“Please take a seat, Captain.”

He obediently did as he was told and sat on her bed. Taking advantage of the difference in height, he lifted her top left a trail of soft, wet kisses on her abdomen, right above the waistband of her trousers. Cora shivered, his hot lips feeling like electricity on her skin. She ran her fingers through his hair, making sure not to touch the area she had stitched a few hours back. She let her hands fall to his shoulders and gently pushed him on the bed, straddling his hips, careful not to sit too heavily on him.

He looked somewhat vulnerable, laying on her bed like that, underneath her. His face was serene save for that lustful glint in his eyes. He was smiling, and this time it wasn’t a smirk or a cocky grin, but a genuine smile. No, she realized, not vulnerable, but open. He wasn’t his usual guarded self. The mask seemed to be off for now.

“Right,” she said, making up her mind. “Let’s take off that sleeve for now.”

“Are you sure?” he asked, placing a hand on her waist.

“No, but I figured that you might die anyway and I’d regret missing the opportunity to kill you myself,” she said, grabbing his arm and unfastening the sleeve. “I may go to jail for it, but you said so yourself, it will be worth it.”

He laughed. “That’s not what I asked.”

Cora leaned down and kissed him, a long and languid kiss, making sure he knew that she wanted him just as much as he did. Because she really did want him, even though her mind was sometimes too busy worrying to let her enjoy herself.

“Yeah.” She smiled, pointing at the bacta jar. “But only if you promise you’ll let me apply that later.”

“Can’t we just skip that?” he groaned.

“No.”

“But it will make a mess.”

“Yes. But your broken ribs will thank me,” she said, brushing her fingers over his bruises in a loving manner. His hands were on her thighs, massaging her skin and making sure she was actually sitting on his lap and not hovering above him. She giggled at his persistence, but he sat up and snaked his hands under her top, pulling it over her head. Now, the nakedness in the room was somewhat balanced.

“I thought I told you to lay down,” she said, sucking in a breath as he kissed down her chest.

“Mhm,” he mumbled, more preoccupied with her now fully exposed breasts than with whatever she was saying. And as he took a nipple into his mouth and started gently circling it with his tongue, she started caring a lot less too. She let herself get lost in the moment, enjoying the sensations of him caressing her skin, her worries completely forgotten for a little while.

She eventually managed to push him back onto the bed, their lips locked into a rough kiss. She pinned his hands on the bed, still thinking that he was moving way too much for his own good. He didn’t fight back, instead let her take the lead. She kissed along his jaw, following his sharp features, and went down down his neck. For a moment she considered giving him a hickey as revenge for the whole mess that he wasn’t responsible for and certainly not aware of, but then changed her mind.

She left a trail of wet kisses on his collarbone before she ghosted over his chest, lingering for a moment on the spot where she could feel his heartbeat. His breaths were becoming shorter with every kiss and she could see a blush starting to creep over his cheeks.

He was already rock hard when she pulled down his boxers. Cora licked her lips in anticipation and passed her fingers over his length, stroking lightly. His skin felt hot and velvety, veins protruding slightly. She was yearning to feel him inside her, to let him take her completely until she couldn't think straight anymore, but she knew it wouldn't happen tonight. For now, his pleasure would have to be enough. She eagerly massaged him, keeping a steady rhythm until she could feel him starting to roll his hips, meeting her movements.

Cassian let out a shaky breath when she took him into her mouth, wrapping her lips around him and swirling her tongue around the head. There was a distinct taste of bacta on his skin and she had too agree with him: the bacta had indeed gone everywhere. She smiled focused on his head for a while, gently sucking and licking, applying pressure on the spots she knew would bring him pleasure, before sliding down his shaft. She couldn't take him all into her mouth, her gag reflex stopping her, but she covered the rest with her hand.

Cassian had his eyes closed, breathing heavily. He had grabbed a fistful of her hair, but never tried to push her head down, letting her set the rhythm. Cora was thankful for that, there were few things she hated more than someone trying to forcefully shove their dick down her throat. Bobbing her head up and down she increased the speed, until she knew he was close.

He came with a gasp, his whole body tensing up for a moment then relaxing back into the bed. When Cora got up and looked at him, he was smiling dumbly at her, his gaze a little unfocused and his hair sticking up funny. He didn’t look livid anymore, his cheeks having gained a rosy blush, but Cora couldn’t be sure that he wasn’t still in a lot of pain. Or maybe the euphoria of the moment had dulled the pain for the time being.

She smiled back and pulled her shirt back over her head, then fished the bacta jar from her bed, unscrewing its lid.

“Wait,” he said, trying to get up, but Cora gently pushed him back down. “Don’t you want me to at least return the favour?”

“I’d rather you owed me,” she said and kissed him. He frowned, like he didn’t get her reasoning. “I wouldn’t want you half assing it just because you’re currently dying. I want the full package, premium quality, VIP treatment.” He laughed and it seemed like it was the first time that night when it had any happiness in it. “It’s going to be cold, so brace yourself,” she said, scooping a generous glob of bacta. Cassian looked at it with mild disgust, but Cora ignored him. He might be a five year old and act accordingly, but he was on her turf and he was going to abide by her rules.

He flinched a little when the cool gel touched his still burning skin, but relaxed shortly after. It wasn’t that unpleasant, Cora thought. Without the impersonal material that made up her surgical gloves that usually separated her hands from his skin, it was somehow more intimate. She didn’t feel like she was just a doctor in that moment, but rather a friend (or a lover) helping the one they cared about.

Cassian didn’t seem to be too uncomfortable either. He looked half asleep, comfortably nested into her pillows. She made sure to cover every bruise and scratch, running her fingers over the areas she knew must have hurt like hell. When she finally finished, she rested her bacta smeared fingers on his lower abdomen and laid on the bed next to him.

“I wonder if anyone has ever used bacta as lube,” she asked out of the blue and Cassian laughed, a hearty laugh that she hadn’t heard in a while.

“I have no idea. But we could give it a try,” he said, taking it as an invitation and trying to get up once again, but Cora didn’t let him.

“Maybe another time,” she said, rubbing her fingers together, feeling the sticky, oily substance covering them. “When you’re not out of order,” she joked, kissing his cheek. He pretended to look hurt, but then pulled her closer, making sure that no matter how much she squirmed, her cheek landed on his bacta smeared chest. She retaliated by rubbing her bacta smeared fingers into his beard because her mental age was around five years as well. Luckily, he caught her hand in his, entangling their fingers together, before it turned into a full blown Bacta War.

“Wait!” She suddenly got up, wiping her cheek on her shirt. “The sleeve,” she remembered, and grabbed it from where she had thrown it on the bed, also fishing the still open bacta jar in the process and placing it on the nightstand before it leaked more goo on her bed.

“Is it really necessary?” Cassian asked, but still extended his arm for her to put it back on. “I mean I think you’d notice if I died.”

“Mhm, it still has to pump some medication into you,” she said, fastening it to his arm, then turned off the lights. “Try to get some sleep,” she said, inching closer to him and landing with her face exactly into a wet stain of bacta on her pillow. This was her life now, she thought, as Cassian put an arm over her waist, living in a nest made of blankets, entwined limbs and mucus.

She was happy.

 *

 He wasn’t sure if he had actually fallen asleep or not. He seemed to keep slipping in and out of consciousness, but it didn’t come with the relief of actual sleep. Whatever was in his IV was making his mind hazy, but it wasn’t enough to silence it long enough for him to be able to fall asleep. It certainly wasn’t enough to stop the burning pain in his thigh or the dull ache of his broken bones. The sedative that Cora had offered him was getting more and more enticing with each passing minute, but she was sound asleep and he didn’t want to wake her up.

She had crawled at the edge of the bed, curled into a fetal position, as far away from him as possible as if she was unconsciously trying not to roll over and hurt him. He smiled to himself and placed a hand on her back. He could feel her even breathing and her steady heartbeat as he idly moved his hand up and down her spine.

It was funny, he thought, how the searing hatred she had for him only a few months ago had dissipated in such a short time and now she was taking care of him. She wasn’t the only one—he wasn’t that ungrateful to the others that really cared for him as to not acknowledge them—but she was the only one that seemed set to do it even against his will, if necessary. She seemed intend to tie him up and beat him down and heal him if that was the only way. And even if he was complaining, and truth be told, he was complaining a lot, he didn’t really mind. He liked that someone was willing to fight for him, even if he was the one they had to fight most of the time. On his good days it made him feel special, it made him feel worthy.

But today was not a good day, and no amount of loving could cover his shame and disgust. He had fucked up, and it was a pretty big deal. And an even bigger deal because Captain Cassian Andor was the one responsible for the fiasco.

He placed an arm over his eyes, to try and block the dim light that was coming out of Cora’s terrarium. His head was throbbing and there were colourful lights playing behind his closed lids. He had ignored his injuries for the past couple of days, pushed himself almost to the limit, and now it was coming to bite him in the ass. Nothing save for a strong sedative could help him sleep.

The last time he had gotten some shut-eye, if he could even call it that, had been on Samarkand, right after the explosion.

He was woken up by someone calling his name, trying to pull him out of the encompassing darkness that seemed to suffocate him. He had to make an effort to open his eyes, the world around him spinning rapidly. His stomach contracted painfully and he grimaced, trying not to retch. It had taken him a few moments, taking in shallow breaths while his ribs felt like they were on fire, until he was finally able to focus and become aware of his surroundings. He was lying on a bed, in a house he didn’t recognize. Still on Samarkand, by the looks of it.

“Thank the Lord you’re still alive,” said the young man standing beside his bed, letting out a sigh of relief. “We feared the worst.”

Cassian wasn’t dead, and that came as a surprise. The last thing he remembered was the building starting to crumble on top of him. He was sure all that weight must have crushed him to death. So he was pleasantly surprised to still be alive. The pain was no surprise, though.

“What happened? How long have I been out?” he asked, making an effort to stand up. The young man, who he recognized to be Sergeant Aasher, helped him in a sitting position. His whole body hurt like hell, and he wondered how much of him was broken. Nothing important, he hoped. His thigh was tightly bandaged, and so was his right arm up to his elbow. By the sharp pain that followed when he tried to move it, he assumed that at least that was broken. He’d have to work around it. At least he was alive.

“I don’t know for sure, about half an hour I guess. Our next door neighbours saw you in the street, under a pile of debris and pulled you out before the stormtroopers arrived.” The kid smiled.

So he had somehow managed to get out of the tunnel before the building collapsed. Either he had crawled out and didn’t remember, or the blow of the explosion pushed him out. Whatever the case, he had been incredibly lucky.

“There’s a whole lot of people out in the streets right now,” the kid said, looking worried. “It’s a good thing they assume nobody survived the blast, so they’re not looking for you yet.”

“Speaking of surviving,” Cassian asked, holding onto his aching ribs, his lungs feeling like burning with every breath he took, “how did you survive the ambush?”

Sergeant Aasher was only a year younger than Cassian, but since he had joined the army just two years back, he still considered him a kid. A smart kid, but a kid nonetheless. He used to be a farm boy before the stormtroopers killed his parents and burned down his house. They left him with nothing. But he survived and joined the Rebellion later that year. Everyone was pretty impressed with how quickly he climbed the ranks.

“We were lucky I guess,” he said and Cassian could feel the shame in his tone. “We fell too easily into Tev’s trap. Now that I think about it, it was so obvious, but in that moment I didn’t think, I heard emergency, I acted. Like an idiot.” He couldn’t look Cassian in the eye, instead he was staring at the wall in front of him. Cassian cursed himself for leaving them on their own when they were clearly unprepared for this. “I think he took advantage of the fact that we were very few left in this base, with Zaid and the rest up north, it only left a dozen people here.” He sighed, and looked at his hands. “One of our scouts noticed something was wrong,” he continued. “We had time to avoid getting ambushed and we got off with only some minor injuries. But we could have walked right into the trap like a bunch of idiots.”

“Don’t beat yourself too much about it,” Cassian told him, smiling despite the pain. He was relieved. They had handled the situation way better than he expected. He imagined at least half of them would end up killed and the rest captured. After all, most of them were rookies. “Where are the rest?” he asked.

“We managed to get in touch with K2-SO after we got away. The wounded are on the ship getting first aid, the rest are keeping an eye on the area. That’s how we found you.” He smiled a tiny, unsecure smile, that disappeared in the blink of an eye.

“You did a good job, Sergeant,” Cassian said, making an effort to get up the bed. His vision blurred once again and his head started throbbing with renewed intensity. He noticed a bandage was wrapped around his forehead and wondered what the damage was underneath it. Cora would kill him once he got back on base, and the thought made him smile.

Sergeant Aasher shook his head. “It’s all my fault, I shouldn’t have fallen so easily into the trap,” he lamented, looking completely demoralized once again, but making an effort to regain his composure. “We thought you had been killed. What happened inside, Captain?”

Cassian explained, omitting some of the details, watching the kid’s expression become more grim with each passing minute. He was blaming himself, he could easily tell, even though it wasn’t really his fault. Or at least, not entirely. Cassian tried encouraging him, but his long face stayed unchanged.

“I fucked up. I let those guys join, I didn’t think they would sell us,” the Sergeant said, passing a hand over his face.

“Yeah, but I let Tev in, and I would have probably let the others join too.” He was lying, they were way too sleazy to be trustworthy, and he would have noticed Tev’s behaviour if he had spent more time around him, but there was no reason to make the kid more uncomfortable than he already was. Everyone makes mistakes, that’s how you learn. Even Cassian. And he had enough power that his mistakes had the potential to take lives. “There’s no need to think too much about it right now,” he said, patting his shoulder. “Let’s go find the others and regroup. And thank these people for their help.”

Cassian knew, as he watched the stormtroopers swarm in the street, that he had really fucked up this time. They hadn’t lost any people, fortunately, but they had been close. Too close. They had lost an outpost, something really valuable on that crowded planet, a quite significant part of their supplies and equipment, and more importantly, he might have lost his cover. His whole job relied on the fact that he could pass unseen and unrecognized by the enemies, and right now he didn’t know how much they had found out. His name? His face, his general description? Would his face soon show up on a ‘most wanted’ poster? If his cover had been compromised, he was as good as dead for the Rebellion. Just another soldier. Worthless.

But he didn’t have time to worry about it. He had to try and fix whatever he could, make sure everyone was safe and then call the base and tell them the bad news.

And so he did, and for the next two days he didn’t sleep, didn’t eat but made sure everyone was relocated to another base. He kept an eye on the Stormtroopers to make sure they hadn’t gotten anything useful from the wreckage, and luckily they didn’t.

When he was recalled back to the Yavin Base, he knew what was coming. Because of him the Empire knew now that the Rebels had a lot more influence on Samarkand than they had previously thought, so now it would be a lot harder for them to recruit new people and oppose the imperial forces.

Cassian cringed just thinking of his conversation with Draven. It wasn’t the first time he had been yelled at, and it wasn’t even the first time Draven was the one yelling, but still he wasn’t able to brush it off like he usually did. Maybe because this time he really felt guilty. Mothma had some encouraging words for him, but he could see the disappointment in her eyes. He didn’t want her pity. He didn’t want anyone’s pity.

He groaned in pain when he rolled over on his side, his ribs sending jolts of pain, but he ignored it. He moved closer to Cora, placing an arm around her waist and pulling her to his chest. She stirred in her sleep and nestled into his embrace, but didn’t wake up. He rested his head on the pillow next to her. The smell of bacta was overwhelming, but he could still feel the lingering smell of disinfectants that seemed to have been embedded into her skin and no matter how much she washed they never went away. Just like he always smelled of sweat, of dirt and engine oil. Of ammunition. Of blood and death.

He hated himself.

 *

 When she woke up he was gone. Again.

She felt around the bed for him, but her hand was only met by an entangled mess of moist, sticky sheets, smelling so sweet that it almost made her throw up. She decided on the spot, before she even got out of bed, that the next time he’d come back bruised and broken, submerging him in a bacta tank would be the only solution. But spending the night together was worth the mess, she thought. Still, it would have been much nicer if they’d actually wake up together in the morning, but she reminded herself not to be greedy.

The clock on the nightstand was blinking hysterically which meant that she somehow managed to repeatedly snooze the alarm. She usually didn’t wake up this late, but since she had a day off it wasn’t a problem. However, she promised she’d go visit Lew in the ER and bring her some food, and given the hour she wasn’t sure there was any breakfast left.

It certainly wouldn’t be any left after she finished changing the sheets, showering and washing the bacta from her hair. She sighed and got up, promptly slipping on a trail of goo that went from her bed to the bathroom. She couldn't help but laugh imagining that Cassian had actually turned into a snail overnight, and added mopping the floors to her to-do list.

To her surprise it didn’t take that long until she finished everything and was out the door, heading for the mess hall. She was feeling refreshed thanks to sleeping in and in a surprisingly good mood that morning, especially since the bacta seemed to have done wonders on her skin. Glowing inside and out, she managed to convince the cook to make something for Lewella, who was very impressed by her multi-layer grilled cheese and ham sandwich.

“You smell like bacta, what happened to you?” Lewella asked, inhaling almost half of her sandwich in one enormous bite.

Cora wondered just how strongly she stank. “Nope. Bacta facial. Helps clear your complexion,” she lied, taking a seat onto a crate in front of the ER and scanning the crowd.

She was looking for Cassian, but she knew there was only a slim chance that he was in the hangar at that hour. She hoped he had gone back to his room and was currently sleeping in his own bed, but she knew there was an even slimmer chance of that being the case. She had no idea what he did when he wasn’t on missions or where he spent his free time, unless he was drinking with his friends in the underground bar. She could see his ship in the distance, but didn’t notice any movement around it.

“So does semen, but you didn’t hear that from me,” Lewella said between bites, interrupting Cora’s train of thought and earning a death glare. A friendly death glare.

“Anyway,” Cora said, shifting her attention back to the crowd. “Have you by any chance seen Cassian today?” She tried to sound nonchalant, but she was sure that Lewella wouldn’t be fooled by her pretended indifference.

“So I mention semen and you automatically think of Cassian,” she laughed. “Interesting word association.”

Cora scoffed, but she could feel her cheeks burning. “It’s unrelated.”

“Riiight.” Cora threw her another (friendly) death glare, so Lewella shrugged. “He passed me this morning when I was going to work. Said something about doing some maintenance repairs on his ship and replacing some transistors, but I haven’t seen him since,” she said, finishing her sandwich and throwing the wrapper in the trash. “He didn’t look too good though.”

“Did he stop by for a check-up?” She really hoped he did. She really hoped that for once he did what he had to do on his own accord so Cora didn’t have to drag him by the ear.

“Obviously not, why do you even bother asking?” Lewella said in a mocking tone. “I didn’t insist, though. He didn’t seem to be himself today, so I left him alone. I think the past couple of days have been pretty shit.”

“I’ll go check up on him,” Cora decided, hopping off the crate.

“Yeah, I doubt he’ll listen to you. He can get really distant at times,” she said, shrugging. “Add that to his normal stubbornness and see what you get. But give him a little space and he’ll eventually snap out of it and become human once again.”

Cora thought about it for a moment. Maybe her friend was right, and the best idea was to just wait for him to figure it all out, instead of forcing herself into his life like that. After all, Lewella had been friends with him for years and knew him much better than Cora did. “Thanks. But I think I’ll check on him really quick,” she eventually said, smiling apologetically.

“Suit yourself. Come by later and maybe we can have lunch together.”

“I will.”

She waved goodbye and made her way into the crowd, heading towards Cassian’s ship. Lewella had been right, repairs were being done, with two droids welding a tear in the ship’s fuselage. Inside, K2 was looking like he was trying to hang himself with the wires coming out of the control panel. Cassian was a little harder to find, but with a little perseverance, Cora managed to track him down. He was wedged inside a tiny hatch reaching deep inside the ship’s innards.

“Morning, Captain,” she said recognizing his outline crammed inside the tight space. Cora tried getting into the opening too, but it proved itself to be a much more complicated task than she anticipated, so she resigned herself to only sitting at its entrance, her feet dangling about two meters above the hangar floor.

“Morning,” Cassian replied, emerging from the depths.

“How are you feeling today?” He looked ok at a first glance, and by ok she meant he wasn’t dead. He had streaks of grease and engine oil all over his face, but from what she could see in the dim light he seemed to have lost the deathlike pallor he had the day before.

“I’m fine,” he said. The almost nervous way in which he was avoiding her gaze made her think he was in fact lying.

“You’re forgetting that I am your doctor and I know for a fact that you can’t possibly be completely fine,” she said and even though she didn’t intend to sound confrontational, her voice still sounded harsh.

He threw a short glance her way, but made himself busy with some wires. “It’s bearable,” he eventually said, seeing that she was still waiting for an answer. “It hurts, but it’s healing. You know there’s nothing else to do besides waiting.”

“Well, resting would be a far better option, but I guess when it comes to you, this is as good as it gets,” she said, looking around. She wasn’t there to scold him, although a good lecture would do him no harm. At least she hoped he was only doing some minor tinkering and not lifting heavy things, giving his bones time to heal. “What can I help you with?” she suddenly asked, pointing towards whatever it was he was doing.

He seemed taken aback for a second and Cora felt he had been getting ready to argue with her, before her question took him by surprise.

“It’s ok, I can handle it,” he said, looking around the small space. He seemed somewhat distracted and maybe a little lost. He certainly wasn’t the Cassian she was used to.

“Bullshit. You can’t fix a ship with your broken hand,” she said, crossing her arms.

He smirked, a barely noticeable smile in the corner of his mouth. “That’s why power tools were invented.”

He had a point, but she still wasn’t ready to give up just yet. She was really only looking for an opportunity to spend some time with him, but she felt like she couldn’t just say it outright, afraid not to sound needy or clingy.

“But an extra helping hand won’t do any harm,” she tried, smiling sweetly, hoping he’d get the hint. “I mean I’m no mechanic, but I can hand you the things you need and I am perfectly capable of screwing bolts into their rightful place and not into my hand.”

He seemed to think about it for a second. Something in the way he was still avoiding her gaze made her think he was in fact avoiding her. Maybe he just needed some time alone and she was really being pushy. “There’s not enough space here for two people.” He sounded really apologetic. “You’d just get dirty and you wouldn’t be of much help.”

Ouch, that hurt. “I don’t mind getting dirty,” she mumbled, but she couldn’t deny the fact that she probably wouldn’t be of much help.

“Don’t waste your day off with your hands in a ship engine.”

“Got nothing better to do anyway. I was hoping you could give me something to do to pass the time,” she shrugged. “Everyone else is working so I guess I’ll just go to the ER and see if they need any help.”

A heavy silence fell between them for a few moments, and Cora was starting to think that this was her cue to leave. She was starting to get the message: she wasn’t wanted there and there was no point in beating around the bush any longer. He seemed so determined to be alone right now that she felt like she was intruding. She wasn’t sure if he’d want her around on a good day, but she knew there was no chance today.

“Alright…”

“You can go inside and see if K needs any help,” he interrupted her, picking up one of the tools. “He doesn’t have much patience with organizing small things and he’s changing some wiring, so I think he’s getting really frustrated right about now.”

Cora’s face erupted into a silly smile. She was about to leave and give up, but she was happy a compromise could be made. It wasn’t really what she came for, she hoped she would be spending some time with Cassian, but he still accepted her help and it meant a lot. He needed space, she understood that, but at the same time he didn’t completely reject her.

“So you’re handing me over to the baby tyrant. What makes you think he won’t turn into a monster now that he’ll have so much power over me.”

Cassian chuckled, the sound somewhat broken by the echo in the hull. “It’s your job to make sure he doesn’t.”

“What if we kill each other?”

“Less of a headache for me. You said you wanted something to do, you never said you wanted something easy.”

“Ok, I get it, I get it! Beggars can’t be choosers,” she laughed. “But I do expect my pay to be direct proportional with the injuries I will most certainly sustain.”

“I can’t promise you that.”

“Worse job opportunities than in the Empire… worse than the Empire,” she joked, getting ready to climb down from the hatch, but then changing her mind. What if…

She awkwardly crawled inside, managing to only narrowly avoid hitting her head on some pipes. He was right, there wasn’t enough space in there for both of them to fit comfortably, but this also meant the he was close enough for Cora to cup his grease stained cheek and press her lips onto his. After all, no one could see them, so why not? He didn’t seem to mind it and was kissing back, uncomfortably contorted in the small space. Everything smelled like jet fuel and exhaust fumes, but Cora was too lost in the moment to mind.

“Ok,” she said, a little flustered after breaking the kiss. “I go now. K2-SO needs my help.”

“Try not to kill each other,” he said, resting his forehead onto hers a moment longer, before retreating into the bowels of the ship. “And don’t wreck my ship,” he yelled after her.

“Can’t promise anything,” she yelled back.

Cora climbed down from the hatch, her cheeks burning. She didn’t know why she was so flustered, it wasn’t the first kiss they shared, hell they even had sex a few times already. Yet here she was, blushing like crazy after just one kiss.

You’re not a teenager, she reminded herself as she pressed the palms of her hands on her cheeks, hoping the redness would soon disappear. She couldn’t let K2 see her like this, who knows what would go through his circuits. But the repair droids wouldn’t let her stick around and watch them welding the hull either—it wasn’t good for the eyes, she already knew that, but going blind was a better alternative to being mocked by K2 for blushing like an idiot. Eventually, she had no other choice but to go inside.

The droid was even more entangled in the rainbow of wires than the first time she saw him that day, looking (and Cassian was right again) terribly frustrated.

“You still didn’t find him?” the droid asked, only acknowledging her presence when she sat down next to him.

“Oh I found him,” she said, grabbing onto some of the wires. “He sent me to rescue you from the tentacles of the Wire Monster.”

“I don’t need any help,” he stated in his monotone voice, but Cora was convinced of the opposite. “Why is your face so red?”

“Hot flashes,” she replied. “Early onset of menopause,” she uttered the dumbest lie said in at least half a century, but the droid didn’t seem to notice. Or care.

“Then maybe you should go to the infirmary and get treated instead of bothering me.”

“Or maybe let me worry about my health and give me those wires, I’ll detangle them and put them in order.”

“Why are you here, Doctor?” he asked, and the question was so sudden that Cora didn’t know what to respond at first.

“I want to help,” she said, putting the wires down.

“You’re not needed here,” he threw at her, and to her surprise it really hurt. She thought she had gotten used to his snarky remarks, but this time it was different. Maybe it was the barely noticeable change in tone, but it really seemed like he wasn’t talking only about fixing the ship. She watched him shove himself under the control panel, and resurface with a new clump of wires. “But neither am I,” he said, handing her the mess of wires. “Put them in order, red with orange and yellow, blue with…”

Cora smiled and didn’t stop him, even though she knew how to properly order a bunch of wires, but she let him go on. She wondered if he meant Cassian when he said ‘you’re not needed here’, and if he knew or suspected anything about their relationship. Either way, he seemed to accept her in the end, because why else would he let her change faulty wiring in the control panel with him, a task he was completely able to do on his own. Except that she had smaller hands and she could reach into narrow spaces better than him. And also because she had more patience testing each individual wire and tying them together. And because he couldn’t press buttons while simultaneously checking under the control panel to see why they didn’t work even after changing the wiring twice already. But he was perfectly capable of doing the rest on his own.

She was amazed how fast time flies when you’re having fun. While most people wouldn’t call tinkering on a ship with a sarcastic droid ‘fun’, to Cora it was a pleasant change in routine. There wasn’t much to do on base besides work anyway, and with her being a little less than imaginative when it came to pastimes, she mostly ended up spending her free time either sleeping or working. So this was actually nice. K2 was pretty funny if you had a thick skin and didn’t take his mean remarks to heart. His sense of humour was mostly being various degrees of mean to people, but after you got used to it you’d notice that he was insanely smart. So Cora spent most of the morning sorting wires and bickering with K.

“Surprisingly, no one’s dead,” Cassian said when he showed up around noon with two food trays in his hands.

“She’s less useful than a protocol droid with their hands tied behind their back,” K2 was so kind to let him know.

“So are you, but with a slightly bigger ego,” she shot back. Cassian smiled, and handed her one of the trays. “Mmmm, unidentified green mush, my favourite!”

Cassian laughed and took a seat next to them on the ship floor. He looked a little cleaner, so he must have washed his hand and face, but his clothes were still dirty and he smelled like engine. However, he seemed a lot more relaxed than when she last talked to him. His frown wasn’t completely gone but the lines on his forehead weren’t as obvious as before. Sometimes he still got distracted and seemed lost in thought, but most of the time he was pretty present in the conversation. Even as unkempt and as sick as he currently was, he was still incredibly beautiful she thought and felt her cheeks start to redden once again, so she concentrated on her food.

The rest of the day passed in a blur, split between bickering with K2 and helping Cassian replace some broken components of the life-support system. She tried to school them on how a ship should properly be cared for and they kept ignoring her advice, laughing at her pedantic advice; she somehow scraped both her knees and K2 nearly closed the main hatch on her fingers (totally unintentional, he swore); at some point, Cassian fell asleep in the pilot chair, so they made as little noise as possible so they wouldn’t wake him. Overall, she had a lot of fun.

Only in the evening, after showering and shoving all of her dirty clothes in a laundry bag, did she realize how tired she really was. Her room still retained a tang of bacta but now it also smelled like engine oil, a combination that wasn’t entirely pleasant, but it was bearable.

When she heard a light tapping on her door her face broke into a huge smile.

“Hello, come here often?” she asked, leaning on the doorframe.

Cassian was smirking from the other side of the door.

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