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wonlouvre · 4 years ago

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pairing: doctor!wonwoo x lawyer!female oc genre: modern royalty, arranged marriage, fluff and angst word count: 3.7k WARNINGS: hospital setting, mentions of surgery/operation, blood, violence

a/n: so, this is it guys. the final part of ifliys :( i would like to extend my sincere thank yous to each and everyone who have read, liked, commented and shared this series. this is the very first fanfic i was able to finish/complete because of the support, love and motivation you all gave as i wrote this. don’t worry! there is an epilogue and i will announce what i have in store for them in the near future. in the meantime, this is part ten. thank you very much!

ten: moonlight | masterlist

The Queen is talkative. That’s one of the many quirks she has that you noticed when you were growing up. It’s not the uncomfortable or annoying kind of talkative. You really don’t know how to exactly put it, but she’s talkative in an elegant and easy-going way. One time, she decided to take a walk on a particularly busy street with only one member of the security detail assigned to tail her a few meters behind. She told you the whole story, excitedly. She was casually strolling and asking typical questions like what time is it to some vendors, passersby and the like. She even held a conversation about olive oil that lasted a good twenty minutes until the stranger she was talking to recognized who she was. You can tell that she had a blast as she laughed all through the evening.

Spending time with her gradually dwindled because of your job paired with your official duties as the Crowned Princess. But when opportunity arises, you make sure to make it worth the wait. Conversations are easy with her because she’s trustworthy and most importantly, she’s your mother. She usually asks you random, yet unexpectedly relevant questions whenever the two of you share a cup of coffee or tea or when you go shopping and even now is no different, as you’re about to choose the right fabric for your wedding dress.

“Describe the person that brings the best out of you.”

Ah, here we go. Your mother is surely not distracting you but her intent stares as she props her arm against the armrest of the white couch she’s sitting on is definitely pulling you away from the matter at hand. The look on your eyes is telling her really? and she fires back with an expecting one telling you a silent, “well? Come on. Tell me.”

You snort and shake your head, bringing your attention back to the table. You’re not denying your mother an answer because you know who to describe. It’s not that hard to figure out and you know she’s smart enough to know.

Jeon Wonwoo.

“How do you want me to describe? Personality or physical features?” You ask back and humor her as you fiddle with one lace material.

“Both,” she challenges with a mischievous grin and you’re not one to back down.

“Well, the person is quite tall and sharp in terms of physical features,” you start, doing your best to describe him implicitly. “Has a way with words, but they are all genuine and honest.”

Unbeknownst to you, your mother’s fond smile confirms your assumption that she is smart and that she knows who you’re talking about. But she presses on, loving how you describe this mysterious person.

“What about those features then? How do they help you?”

You thought for a moment and when the right words came to mind, you didn’t hesitate to say, “They inspire me to do and be better not only for myself but for everyone else. Mostly it’s their genuineness and honesty that inspires me.”

You and your mother laugh together at your last sentence.

It’s true though. After witnessing Wonwoo in the light of his Kingdom, something tugged at your heartstrings. You don’t exactly remember when, maybe it was around high school, but you remember adamantly telling your friends that you would want to be with someone that will bring the best out in you. Someone that can fuel your desire to be of service for the greater good. It sounds awfully used too often and you’re sure you’re not the only one who thinks this way, but as you have already said, it’s the truth.

Despite the circumstances, you found that someone. You found Wonwoo.

A few seconds later, Jeongyeon comes in with a knock and announces, “Your Majesty, Prince Wonwoo has arrived.”

Your eyes spring up at the name, distracted once again. And when you see the “tall” and “sharp” Prince, you’re quick to your feet and run towards him. He stumbles a little when you jump at him in a tight hug, arms clinging around his neck. Nonetheless, he smiles and welcomes your enthusiastic embrace with a soft smooch on the side of your head.

“Wait,” you abruptly pull away. “You’re not supposed to be here, though.”

Wonwoo acts dumb, tilting his head to the side. “What do you mean? Her Majesty invited me to be here.”

“Calm down, Y/N,” you hear the culprit say behind your back as she stands up to greet her future son-in-law. “There’s no dress yet. It’s okay for him to be here.”

You subtly roll your eyes. You’re not one to be superficial but if there were a dress already, she’d take her words back. You return your arms back to Wonwoo’s waist and lean your chin against his chest, your lips pulling into a pout. He leans down to meet your lips with a quick peck but your mother was quicker to push you aside and to take her turn in giving him a hug.

Your jaw drops and your pout is exchanged with a scowl.

Wonwoo tries his best to hold his laughter but to no avail, fails as he formally greets the Queen. “Good afternoon, Your Majesty.”

“Always good to see you, my Prince,” the Queen replies and gently pats his cheek. “And now that you’re here, I can finally take my leave.”

“Leave? We haven’t even picked a fabric yet,” you remind her and stand in between them.

“Honey, you have been going back and forth since nine in the morning,” she retaliates and walks back to the couch to pick her bag up. “Let’s schedule for another day. Unless you want Wonwoo to leave and we continue.”

Your stance immediately takes a hundred eighty degree turn. “You know what, you’re right. Let’s clear Saturday next week and we’ll take it from there.”

“I thought so.”

With a knowing wink, the Queen takes off.

That memory was from about three weeks ago after your visit and vacation at Wonwoo’s Kingdom. Wedding planning was back and the two of you went your separate ways for the time being to prepare your respective attire and accessories. Wonwoo didn’t know you had that conversation with the Queen not until she told him here at the hospital where you lie unconscious and fighting for your life.

The Royal Hospital was once again swarmed with a plethora of men in black suits because the Crowned Princess of the Kingdom has been shot twice, one on her shoulder and another on her left leg. It was a failed attempt in assassinating the King but Kim Mingyu took the opportunity to target your vulnerability and let his men shoot you instead as if it was his plan b. Kim Mingyu, whom he never desires to meet, is finally in police custody. He didn’t try to elude his impending arrest. In fact, he knew he would get arrested. He just wanted to toy with people until he couldn’t anymore.

Wonwoo has no words to spare to describe him and seeing his face and hearing his name everywhere and everytime is just making his blood boil.

The Queen has never left the hospital from the moment she arrived while you were undergoing operation up to being placed in a private room. She was calm when Wonwoo stood up from the bench to respectfully address her. She just nodded her head when he couldn’t say a word without his lips trembling and enveloped him in a warm hug as he cried on her shoulder.

She told him that the two of you haven’t spoken since your father’s arrest and it has been unbearably painful and challenging. She acknowledges how terrible and neglecting she has been as a mother when she knows how absolutely difficult this is for you. It’s even more heartbreaking because you never once complained. Instead you respected her silence and distance. She regrets her absence and seeing you lying on a bed, looking so cold and fragile is making her world completely fall apart.

“Wonwoo, I’m so sorry that this happened,” the Queen solemnly says and holds his hand tightly. “The Kingdom promises that everyone involved will be held accountable.”

Wonwoo nods. “I understand, Your Majesty. Our Kingdom will do so as well.”

“I also want you to know that Y/N never wanted to end the engagement,” she adds. “She was just afraid that someone like her doesn’t deserve to receive your love.”

Wonwoo didn’t know that you looked up to him. If anyone should be admired, it should be you because you were ready to drop everything just to uphold justice. It’s been three days after the operation and you still haven’t opened your eyes. The operation was successful. No artery nor major organs were damaged, but you did lose a lot of blood. Just like the Queen, Wonwoo has been by your side, patiently waiting. Right now despite your stable condition, he still feels like dying.

The love of his life almost died before his eyes.

Wonwoo rests his head on the small space beside your arm, similar to the first time he took care of you a few months back. He gazes at your peaceful face, silently begging for you to wake up. He wants to kiss, hear and hug you again. He wants to be with you again.

“Wonwoo.”

He sits up straight at the sound of his name and finds the Queen sadly smiling at him.

“How about you go back to your apartment for today?” She suggests, taking the seat on your other side. “Take a long shower and have some shut eye? Hmmm?”

Wonwoo bites his bottom lip, hesitant to leave and not have his eyes on you. He badly wants to stay and be here when you finally wake up. But the Queen is right. You’re safe now so he has nothing to worry about anymore.

Slowly, he stands up from the chair he’s been sitting on for who knows how long. He clasps his one hand around yours while the other sweeps the hair that’s covering your forehead and lands a gentle kiss there. You’re starting to warm up and that’s a relief.

He talks to you every single day, hoping you’d hear his voice. For now, he’ll keep it to himself.

I love you.

Later in the evening, you find your mother quietly dozing off, her head swaying from left to right and vice versa as she remains upright on the couch placed near the wall. You blink your eyes and adapt to the sudden brightness greeting your senses. You try to move your head and take in your surroundings and after a few minutes of contemplating, you recognize where you’re at and remember everything.

Dad.

Your violent gasp immediately roused your mother from her sleep and seeing you struggling to sit made her jolt up and hurry beside you.

“Darling,” she calls and holds your thrashing arms down, worried that you’d worsen your wounds. “It’s okay. You’re okay.”

“Dad,” you voice out against the dryness of your throat. “Mom, where’s dad?”

“He’s okay too.” You can see the tears welling up on her eyes as she caresses your hair and gently pulls you in a hug. “He’s safe.”

Together, you shed the tears of anguish that you have been holding back for so long.

The King couldn’t be here because the court didn’t allow his appeal to accompany nor visit you even just for a day. He couldn’t even carry his daughter’s body to the ambulance because he was handcuffed and heavily guarded. He couldn’t even protect his daughter from the harmful consequences of his mistakes. Your mother told you that he desperately wants to be by your side and you do know that. You’re way past his inability to be here and that’s none of your concern anymore. As long as he is safe, you’re more than content.

The trial has been rescheduled for next week and your father has to be detained until then. You’ll try to visit him again once you’re discharged and together with that, you’d also find the strength to accompany him at his trial.

Your mother was firm on staying and insisting that she’s fine when you tried to urge her to go home, but you can clearly tell how tired she is from the lack of sleep so you didn’t let her win. It’s already late in the night when she finally gave in. Your mother kisses your cheek one last time after the doctor assessed your condition. Jeongyeon would stick around for the evening in her stead. Poor girl cried so much the moment she saw you widely awake.

Once it’s only the two of you left, Jeongyeon helped you sit on a wheelchair and wheeled you next to the window before she left to grab some extra bottled water. You can’t stand properly yet because of the wound on your leg so a wheelchair is necessary if you want to be mobile. You’re starting to feel the back pain after lying down for so long, you need to move. The doctor was a bit apprehensive about allowing you to leave your bed, but gave in when you promised to stay inside the room.

The moon, shining in all its glory, up in the dark sky looked so enticing, you had to take a closer look. The three days went by so fast and running through all that ensued leaves a sickening sensation down to your stomach. You shake your head, not wanting to relive the frightening memories.

Your attention goes back to the moon and one person comes to mind.

It makes you selfishly wonder if he ever visited once or asked and worried about you as you bring your hand up to your neck. When you don’t feel the lifebuoy pendant, your heart skips a beat. You then looked down to your hand, your engagement ring is also not on your finger. You frown, growing upset. They could have removed it, but it should be back to you by now. You looked around the room, hoping to find your precious gems within reach. Just in time before you could wheel yourself around to search for them, you hear the door open.

“Hey Jeongyeon, have you seen my necklace and ring?” You ask to the void as you tilt your head back to the moon.

When you don’t hear any answer other than the sound of heavy breathing, you remove your gaze from the window to see who came in if it’s not your assistant. To your surprise it’s no other than,

“Wonwoo.”

Wonwoo didn’t keep count of the exact times, but he knows how long and how much he begged just to hear your voice call his name once again. He didn’t even have the chance to change from his sweatpants and sleeveless shirt when he received the call from Soonyoung (whom Jeongyeon told to). Honestly? He didn’t bother at all because he just wanted to be right here at this moment.

To be with you.

He takes slow steps as he calms his breathing. Meanwhile, you remained seated and let him come to you. You’d run to him just like you did back then, but your leg wouldn’t appreciate that.

It felt like forever for Wonwoo to get to you. But when he finally drops on the floor and lightly rests his head on your lap, there’s no reason for him to complain anymore.

Your tears fall again for the nth time tonight. You caress his wet locks, probably from the mixture of his shower and sweat. He cries too because you can feel it seeping against the pants you’re wearing. He wraps his arms around your lap, careful from crashing his weight. You, on the other hand, bend your head down to kiss the crown of his head.

Both of your hearts are shouting, finally.

The beautiful moonlight shines on the two of you as you both silently settle down there for a moment, not giving a care in the world because this is just what you’ve been yearning for and you’re not allowing anyone nor anything to steal this away ever again.

Your long face doesn’t go unnoticed by Wonwoo and he knows why you’re pulling it against him. But no, he is not falling for it. Instead he ignores your silent plea and continues tucking you back on the bed. You glance up at him and try to win him again with your attempt at puppy dog eyes and when he doesn’t, you give up.

“You know that this bed is too small to fit two bodies, Y/N,” he states the obvious and drags a chair to sit on. “I know you’re smart enough to see that.”

You huff and pull the covers closer to your chin. If it wasn’t for the wound on your shoulder, you’d turn your back against him.

Wonwoo just rolls his eyes at your antics and holds your hand under the warm blanket.

After your short reunion, Wonwoo decided to get you back to your bed because it was nearing one o’clock in the morning. You haven’t brought up what happened and it’s alright because you still have another chance to do so. Hopefully.

“I’m sorry, Wonwoo,” you whisper under your breath but his ears can hear your words.

He nods and kisses the back of your hand. “I know, baby. It’s not your fault.”

Baby.

You never use pet names or terms of endearment and hearing him say it for the first time almost made you faint. It’s an exaggeration but you’re weak at the moment and anything that flusters your heart can potentially weaken your whole body.

Wonwoo then brings something out from his pockets and your eyes brighten at the sight of the necklace he gave you. He chuckles when he sees your excited expression and stands up. His fingers tenderly graze the skin of your neck when he puts it back to where it rightfully belongs.

“I thought I lost it,” you say, holding the pendant between your fingers.

He sits back down and what he mutters next makes you feel a twinge of guilt.

“I thought I lost you.”

You sigh and coax him to you, grasping the hand enclosed to yours. “Come here.”

This time you let him take the small space on your bed. You sit up as well so that you can reach his height. He helps you and once you’re comfortably situated, you wrap your arms around his waist and rest your head on his chest.

Wonwoo smiles at your affection and lets his hand smooth against your hair. You have always been brave when it comes to touching him and he’ll never forget how you kissed him on the lips first. He’s so glad and relieved you’re finally awake. He doesn’t think he can go on for another day without you. And now that you’re holding each other like this, he wishes for this night to never end.

“I’ll probably not inherit the throne,” you say against his shirt. “I don’t think your family would want you to marry an abolished monarch.”

Wonwoo’s hand drops and he breathes out a disappointed sigh. He is not having this conversation with you right now. Why must you ruin the moment?

When you don’t feel his hand against you anymore, you look up and steal a kiss under his chin. However, that doesn’t suffice because he’s still upset and it’s evident on the frown adorning his handsome face.

“But I realized I love you, so if it means I have to beg all the way to their Majesties for your hand then—”

Wonwoo doesn’t let you continue and shuts you up with a searing kiss. He softly squeezes your cheeks with one of his hands, almost as if commanding you to pucker your lips. Your eyes widened in surprise but when he put his other hand at the side of your neck, you surrendered.

It’s no secret that you and Wonwoo kiss. Oftentimes they’re just quick brushes, but sometimes they get a little bit more intense, deeper. You won’t get into detail though, because that’s a story to tell for some other time.

For now, you eagerly meet Wonwoo’s passion as he lays you back down on the bed, of course with caution. He doesn’t fully drop his weight on top of you, one arm carrying his upper body while the other gingerly cupping one side of your face.

His chest is firm and his shoulder broad as you grip your hands on them and continue kissing him. You should be asleep by now because you are still recovering. But Wonwoo is a doctor himself, right? So if he took the initiative to kiss you until sunrise, then it must be alright.

Okay, maybe it’s wrong to mock his profession like that. But, you’re just grateful to kiss him like this again. Because the last time you shared one, tears were streaming down your face and you two were on the verge of breaking up.

“I should really put you to sleep now,” Wonwoo whispers against your lips, breathless.

You hold your laughter, still basking in his taste. When you open your eyes, Wonwoo is already hoisting himself back up. Your lips draw into a pout again and the cause of it just rolls his eyes.

“I promise there will be more, but for now rest, okay?” He pinches your cheek lightly and sits back on the chair.

“You can take the couch,” you tell him.

“Sleep, Y/N.”

You no longer defy and close your eyes.

You remember the first time he commanded you those words and looking back, they are all fond memories of your then developing relationship. There were many questions when you and Wonwoo got along so well and so fast. There were many doubts and insecurities. The two of you shared those in silence, which could have endangered your hearts. However, even though your relationship was shaken and tested, the two of you persevered.

For you, Wonwoo persevered and words and actions are not enough to thank him. You couldn’t have overcome this without his support and patience. So from now on, against all odds, you’ll do exactly the same.

#seventeen #wonwoo #wonwoo scenarios #wonwoo scenario #seventeen scenarios #seventeen scenario #wonwoo imagines #wonwoo imagine #seventeen imagines #seventeen imagine #wonwoo fanfic #seventin fanfic #seventeen fluff #wonwoo fluff #fic: ifliys

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eddiemxnsons · 4 years ago

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INTRÉPIDE — Nate Fick

Requested by: @bbysugarpink

hello, i would like to request something for nate from generation kill :) with the fluff prompts: “is there a reason you’re blushing like that” and “i’m not a damsel in distress. i’m a damsel doing damage” thank u so much! 🤍

To whatever sexist douchebag termed damsels — women — as always being in constant, unwarranted distress, Y/N Y/L/N could run laps around them with her intellect, physical build, and sharp tongue. She was a living illustration of an army disciplinary booklet, the words alive in calculated steps she’d approach a soldier with.

The men of the 1st Reconnaissance Battalion of the Marine Corps vexed egos could attest to the goldenly shrewd behavior of their lieutenant. She was a great shot with her rifle, but her words walloped anyone with a more profound wound than any bullet could. Superiors would tease that if science could decipher the wonderstruck complexes of her mind and bottle it, they’d give it to every trooper to fortify some manhood in them that vanished with the diaphanous sand of the desert each dawn.

With the exception of First Lieutenant Nathaniel Fick.

The duo could forge a bickering storm within seconds of a misstep in strategy, a blazing crimson error of position that had a target pinned to their asses. The remainder of their platoon would settle in the beaten leather of their humvee’s, ears perked to open windows to listen to the rather amusing strings of hisses. They’d only interject if the woman was teetering on ripping the other lieutenant a new one, and it wasn’t for the paralyzed ego of their male superior, but for the sound discipline that should be happening.

Yet, as the cruel sun beat down on one afternoon, it's one malevolent eye unblinking, the sky it's co-conspirator with not even a wisp of cloud to obscure the unrelenting rays, there was no sound discipline to be enforced. Therefore, the feverish dispute erupting with a febrile existence as hot as the weather itself, was either eavesdropped by weary troopers or entirely disregarded by those who forced slumber.

Y/N stood in front of a glowering Nate Fick in a recognizable stance, arms folded sturdily across her chest and her jacket and pants littered with palpable burns from a imprudent stunt in the early morning. He was now ripping her a new one before a few other fellow lieutenants for the chaotic strategy that had her eluding a lethal shootout by her teeth.

“You were sent on a mission to collect intel, not engage in a fucking dogfight with Iraqi soldiers, Lieutenant Y/L/N. Lately, all you’ve been leaving is a trail of collateral damage wherever you go and I have to clean it up before any higher-up flames your ass,” Nate essentially snarled in her face, his gaze fervid with fluttering chaos and madness, whetting the edge of his cerulean eyes.

“If you’re going to chastise me for doing my job, I think you should be looking at yourself and everyone else in this damn platoon! We were ambushed and I merely retaliated to save the asses of my men like any lieutenant would do. I got the fucking intel for you and spared you from writing a few condolence letters,” she sneered in retort, beckoning an offending serpent of anger into their conversation with a spark of anger igniting in her chest, “And I would appreciate if you allowed me to do what I need to do to save my men—”

“And what if I had to write one for you?!” He interjected furiously, the rustle of the adjacent map indicating that his miffed outburst startled a few of the others. Their exasperation stood equal now, black marks on their consciousnesses. When it came to her — this brazen, shrewd female lieutenant — the stagnant, usually composed first lieutenant was easy to set off, almost like flicking the top off a grenade. Scrap the usually when it came to the woman before him now.

Y/N merely scoffed, a few sputters of laughter hissing from the rifts of her lips, “Besides a loss of a lieutenant, what is it to you if something happened out there? You could give less than two fucks about me, Fick.” She peered at him with frustration radiating, aghast that he would reprimand her recklessness.

Nearly everyday did he let Death almost beat the shit out of him, and it was always her that had to save his ass and dispel its clasp. The one day she didn’t duck for cover, demand them to fallback, had a momentary lapse of judgement was the day she was endlessly ridiculed. Her hand twitched at her side as she anticipated a reaction — an excuse — from the crimson-cheeked man, an identical grimace scattering out from beneath both of their helmets.

She sobered her tongue to her cheek for the sake of hearing this argument through and through, savor in levity the first thing the blonde could spare from his humiliated ass,

“Maybe if you pulled your head out your ass, you’d realize that there are some people in this platoon that give a shit about whether or not you live or die.”

“Like who?” she beckoned in challenge, true to her haughty dispotion, and her chest mere inches from seething against his own now.

She could taste the poignancy of his despair that fragilized in his light blues, the acidity of his wrath, and the blazing of his anguish, yet shook her head despite it all gradually soaking into her chest, “Like who, Lieutenant Fick?”

He was a man that knew no fear until he met this woman. He had met every dread of his in her heedless behavior. Certainly, she tends to sprint into danger on more instances than he could count, but managed to extinguish every flame of danger that lurked as a menace to her each damn time. Numerous wondered, even him in some moments, where Y/N’s tenacity emanated from, yet it could never really be pinpointed. Yet, that was just another aspect of the cumbersome girl he had spent his army career attempting to unravel.

And Nate Fick is a gritty man. He has strived for a while to not get his feelings for her entangled in the requisite of war. Love doesn’t belong in a war, where there’s a constant dance with Satan that would desecrate anything as vulnerable as love. Yet, there it was, keen as ever despite the uncertainty of the next few minutes. He loved her like there wasn’t a war occurring.

“Like me,” he admitted with his mouth abandoning all moisture for an arid wasteland of desert like his surroundings.

His whole mewl of a rant moments prior had fucked things up for sure. Even as he was blustering and calling into question her competence, he was aware how he was stirring an unspoken pot of exasperation between them. But she had scared him that morning. And Nate Fick thought himself a fool whenever he fussed in fright over something — someone. But, as he flanked position in the aforementioned dogfight with his own men, his peripheral — keen as always — had caught her dropping to the ground after a deluge of bullets mangled the metal of the humvee she had tucked herself behind. He had been certain that he had just bystanded her death and nearly got himself shot in the abyss of numbness that bittered his nerves.

“Well, of course, because who else would you bitch to about every damn problem you have?” she eclipsed his concern and amused the response, “Anyone else would simply kiss your ass and agree with your complaints — you’d never get your desired response and then the cycle repeats itself. I may as well be your therapist!”

“Would you just shut up?!” Nate let her have it, tearing into her steadfast role of a bitter disputer, eyes temporarily locking with her own.

Any other soldier at the brunt of his outburst would flinch, unravel in whatever mock confidence they tossed between them at the start of the quarrel. She was a pistol of a woman, and there is everything right with that as could be for regard to her character. You fired at her, you could be damn certain you’d get fired at in return.

“Are you issuing an order to me, lieutenant?” She ventured a step between their already existing close proximity, “Someone of your own rank that you’re belittling on account of your questioning of my sanity? Well, let me deal you back a taste of your own medicine — I question you on your clear defiency to keep a cool head whenever something, involving me, occurs and you lose your temper! The line between your professional life and whatever personal thing you have festering in your mind is blurring, lieutenant. And I question if you can execute your rank’s duties appropriately...”

“You make it rather difficult to when you stick your ass in every dangerous situation that comes wandering your way,” he ruefully sighed, abating his zealous tone and plucking her elbow to shift them into a quieter corner away from probing eyes. And, much to his surprise, she permitted the abrupt veering off and the linger of his hand on the bend of her elbow.

“And why is it so difficult?” she aligned her tone with his own, still a searing and acrimonious murmur in the shaded corner.

Nate’s frustration tensed with a clench of his jaw, eyes drowning with something deviating between anger and lust — the latter glimmer being one she regarded before he was even genuinely aware it had erupted to the surface. And her heart fluttered.

“You know why,” he indifferently stated, words slicing rather than tumbling through the dry air.

A hollow feeling bloomed at the center of her chest almost immediately as the words registered quicker than she would’ve preferred.

“Nate,” there was no agitation in her voice as if her heart beat so steadily now, the pistol-shot flare diminishing beneath a vulnerable facade. Certainly, she knew. She’d be daft to beat around the bush of his implications — the connotations of their intimate, clandestine relationship. “If the others — if our superiors — found out...”

“It’s been a year and they’re none the wiser,” Nate tread a few fingers through her messy, disheveled hair, her breathing almost instantaneously steadying with the slight yanks at the stray tufts of her ponytail brushing her neck. They rebounded to a silence with balanced inhales of arid desert air for a few moments, the din of adjacent soldiers in their makeshift tents curving around the flaps of the one they concealed behind. She glimpsed briefly through the heavy brush of her lashes, pressing a whisper of a kiss on his lips, lingering there with the ardor igniting her veins and no doubt his, defusing the ticking bomb of fury from minutes prior.

“Now, is there a reason why you’re blushing so profusely like that?” she mused with a curl of smirk in their departure from the kiss, her fingertips skimming the camoed cloth of the rear of his helmet while amused eyes adored the earnest crimson of his cheeks.

Nate chuckled with an eye roll spared for her radiating levity, his spur of mirth hindered by the dispute that anchored in the abyss of his stomach, “You could have died, you know.” He is vulnerable now, novel territory for Nate Fick to venture into, and he's found himself astray in the shallow waters of a defenseless position.

“You would’ve done the same,” she uttered through a throat she could’ve sworn was temporarily haboring jagged rock shards, “Besides, we both know that I’m not a damsel in distress needing you to swoop in as if you always need to do something to save me. I’m a damsel doing damage a majority of the time ‘round here.”

“Unfortunately,” Nate chuckled wryly, “And you leave it all to me to clean up.”

“It’s rather entertaining to watch — for everyone.”

“Keep telling yourself that.”

#hbo war #hbowar #generation kill #hbo war imagine

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bluezey · 4 years ago

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Inside Onward - Dream Duty

I think you guys are going to like this one. So far the emotions are following what happens in the movie. But this chapter, this doesn’t happen in the movie. That’s right, this chapter is 100% original to the story. Consider it a deleted scene from Onward, all thanks to Ian’s emotions. And I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did, cause after I was done writing this, I needed a good cry and the biggest hug from both my Fear and Ian dolls.

Thankfully, and finally, things were becoming uneventful. Ian and Barley were driving down a bumpy, unpaved road into an untamed wilderness that’s been hardly touched for decades in the darkness of night, but other than that, uneventful. They’ll be safe inside Guinevere, right?

Fear was overlooking the short term memory shelves, a task he ritually does every night before Ian falls asleep. He was jotting down notes in his little notepad, noting and checking the memories of key events throughout Ian’s day. He also made a note of how there were a lot of purple memories at the start of Ian’s day, but throughout the evening it became less and less. Sure, he was in charge a lot, he still as a job to do. But seeing more colors, more signs that his coworkers have helped Ian, maybe this is a sign that he’s on the right track.

“Hey Fear?” Disgust asked, approaching the purple emotion from behind.

“Whuh!” Fear fumbled to grab his notepad in midair, but had to bend over for his pen.

Disgust couldn’t help but cross his arms and roll his eyes. “Hmph, you are so jumpy.”

“Heh heh, thanks?” Fear said as he stood up, holding his notepad in front of him like a security blanket.

“Speaking of that,” Disgust continued,” that’s what I wanted to say… thanks.”

Fear was taken aback by that. Disgust was being nice to him? Well, he was still snarky, but the green emotion’s tone was less snippy. “Thanks?”

“Yeah, you’re welcome.” Disgust smirked, brushing a loose stand of hair back in place. “But seriously, I’ve noticed you’ve been acting different tonight. Okay, you’re still a frightened little scaredy dragon, but I’ve noticed you trying to hold back and let us on the console some more. You’re even letting us share it sometimes. You’re still not good at it, but you’re doing better. So, my point is, keep at it.” Disgust leaned in and smoothed out a wrinkle on Fear’s sweat shirt. “And try fabric softener next time.”

Fear was silent as he watched Disgust walk away on that prideful saunter of his. Disgust was still acting like Disgust, but he almost said a compliment to Fear! Maybe… maybe things are getting better. As he thought this, Fear caught Anger walking by. “Hey, Anger,” he smiled and waved.

Anger gave the most judgmental sneer as he stormed by. “grrrrrrrr……..”

Fear nearly sank as he stepped back in fright. Okay, maybe things aren’t getting better.

“Uh oh,” Joy reported playfully, noting the vitals on the console. “Looks like sleepyhead can’t keep his eyes open any longer.”

“Okay gang,” Fear announced. “Let’s get Ian somewhere safe to sleep. We need him well rested for when he meets dad tomorrow.”

“Ugh, how is going to sleep in this dirty old van?” Disgust thought aloud. “And he has no comb or toothbrush. He’s going to be a total mess tomorrow. I can’t let that happen!”

Sadness helped Ian into the back of the van as Joy pointed out a small bench in the back they can sleep on. Joy patted Sadness’s back and left the console, Sadness alone to help Ian settle in on the narrow plank as best as he could. Joy approached Fear as he was passing by the recall tube. “Hey, great birthday so far, right?” Joy said to Fear cheerfully.

Fear chuckled nervously, but his smile was genuine. “Yeah. Unforgettable.”

“Hey, don’t give the forgetters down in long term any ideas,” Joy joked.

“Oh they better not forget these memories,” Fear replied, his fearful side showing through more. “These are very good memories we made today.”

“Dang right, they are,” Joy said before asking, “So, you’re on dream duty tonight, right?”

“Yup, Ian should be hitting R.E.M. any minute now,” Fear commented as he looked up at the screen, watching as Ian’s eyelids fall heavier with every blink. “You guys should go get ready for bed.”

“Actually,” Joy replied, “the other emotions and I have been talking, and we think we should sleep on the floor tonight.”

Fear’s face fell, his nerves rising. “You’ve… been talking about me?”

“No, not you,” Joy replied, trying to calm Fear’s worries. “We’ve just been thinking that today has been pretty eventful, and we should be nearby so we can get back to work when Ian wakes up. Don’t worry, we’ll be right on those couches over there,” Joy pointed to the couches. “We’ll be right there if you need us.”

“Okay,” was all Fear could manage as Joy ran off. But, inside, he was feeling less okay than he felt just moments ago.

Sadness watched as Ian’s eyes closed and remained closed, leaving the screen blank. “We’re asleep,” Sadness reported.

“Good job, gang,” Fear said as he tapped his foot on a button by the recall tube, sending the memories cascading from their shelves and rolling into the various recall tubes into long term memory. “Let’s get some sleep. Ian has an even bigger day ahead tomorrow.”

The other emotions chatted to each other as they both settled in on the couches. Fear took that moment to leave for the break room, making a quick cup of soothing tea to enjoy during dream duty. When he returned, he found Headquarters was quiet and dormant. The short term memory shelves were empty, and the memories were flying off into long term memory through the recall tubes. Anger, Joy, Sadness and Disgust were curled up together on the couches. Sadness lying flat on his back, Anger sleeping in a sitting position with his hands folded over his abdomen, Disgust with his head and legs propped up on some pillows, and Joy curled up in a cherub like fetal position, his hands tucked under his grinning face. Fear crossed the floor and gently placed his mug on the edge of the console.

Fear then took that moment to quietly panic to himself. What am I doing, he practically screamed inside his head. He threw his head back, his knees practically buckled as he shoved the palms of his hands against his tightened shut eyes, his nerve twisted up into a ball nestled into his blue hair. After giving a big, irate, terrified groan through his grit teeth, Fear finally broke from his melodramatic stance and began to ritualistically pace back and forth by the console, his hands gripping tightly at his sides.

Things couldn’t be falling apart any further if they tried! Ian had the worst birthday ever, and let’s not forget how his birth night has been! Magic gifts! Half a dad! Fiery Manticores! Car chases! Blood thirsty pixie dusters! And who was the liar?? Was Joy the liar? How could that be possible? Joy must be the only emotion in Ian’s head who loves Barley the most, and can genuinely tolerate him. What about Disgust, or Anger? Even Sadness doesn’t like Barley that much. But, none of them were at the console when the spell failed. And why was Family Island lit up? Ian tolerates his big brother too, and the yellow core memory powering Family Island, including the statue of Ian and Barley, proves it. So why was it lit up? And what was Fear thinking?? Agreeing to take the Path of Peril?? For crying out loud, it’s called the Path of Peril!! It couldn’t be more blatant of a stop sign if the name was emblazoned on a bright red octagon!!

Fear froze in his tracks as the projector whirred to life from the console, displaying a live broadcast from Dream Productions. Well, looks like Fear can focus on dream duty instead, for now. Fear took a sip of his tea as he watched from behind the console.

Onscreen began one of the usual dreams Ian commonly had. It was nighttime, the sky was clear and littered with bright stars. Ian was on a cliff that was overlooking a steep drop into the sea. Okay, not literally on a cliff, Ian was safely away from the cliff so all he could hear was the ocean waves. As well as crickets, the crickets sounded a little louder than the waves tonight. Sound mixing must be getting their act together down in Dream Productions.

Ian was busying himself with a telescope, overlooking the stars. After looking into the telescope for a brief moment, Ian adjusted the focus, looked again, adjusted the tracking, looked again. He caught a shooting star flash by, so fast he could have missed it if he blinked. He stood up and made a note in his notebook before going to the front of the telescope to check on a few things.

Fear smiled, he took another sip of his tea. He liked these stargazing dreams. Relaxing, uneventful. And they didn’t easily turn into nightmares like those dreams at school usually do.

Ian turned and left his telescope so he can bend over and pick up a star atlas out of his book bag. As he turned back to approach his telescope, he paused, his eyes slowly grew in wonder. Instead of the telescope, there stood a wizard staff. It was sticking humbly out of the ground, but stood straight and proud, as the warm glow of an orange gem began to light the night around them. Though it was still night, the sky began to illuminate like the recent dusk of sunset.

Fear looked at the screen, both curious and worried of where this is going.

Random selection of stars began to glow and drift slowly yet gracefully from the night sky. They floated both aimlessly like feathers, but with direction like fireflies. One by one, the stars gathered in the open between Ian and the wizard staff, as Ian silently watched in awe. The stars gathered into a collective of light, which gradually took shape, and faded into the form of a familiar stranger.

Dad.

Fear was in as much wonder as Ian was, both praying that it wasn’t a dream. Fear slowly approached the screen, as slowly as Ian approached his dad. With each step, it as if Fear could feel their wish that this was real growing, as if he was stepping ever nearer to reality, with the burdened truth that he would never reach it. But in the dream world, anything could happen. Thankfully, the miraculous, graceful and forgiving side of the dream world was unfolding tonight.

Fear stopped just inches from the screen, looking as if he was standing in the field right beside Ian, as Ian was standing just inches from his dad. After the longest pause, it felt like a minute short of eternity, Ian collapsed into dad’s welcoming, loving hug. Ian squeezed tight as he could, never wanting to let go, letting his tears fall if they must and stain dad’s sleeve.

A little sniffle was heard, but Fear knew that sound didn’t come from the dream. He gave Ian the biggest smile as he placed his hand on the screen, looking like he placed his hand on Ian’s shoulder.

“Not much longer, Ian,” Fear whispered to Ian. “Tomorrow, you’ll finally see your dad. And you’ll finally be the person you were meant to be.” Fear gave a smile with the least amount of worry and timidness that he ever gave in his life. “I promise.”

In the van, Ian rolled over into a more comfortable position on the narrow bench. It appeared a small smile was on his face.

#Inside Onward #pixar onward #pixar inside out #sir Iandore of Lightfoot #Ian Lightfoot #Barley Lightfoot #Joy #Sadness #Anger #Disgust #Fear

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diary-of-deadweight · 5 years ago

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Mystery admirer pt2 (this took along time for me to write.)

Pairing: Bakugou x reader

Weeks has passed and it seemed that the elegantly vibrant flowers and heart fluttering note had stopped coming, you came to terms with the fact that this was a sure fire sign that your secrete admirer has lost interest.

Not that you blamed them, they all did in the end as they went on to pursue your much better looking friends further solidifying your constant doubts of not being enough or not attractive enough to keep them interested. So as to not show your obvious heart break you decided to take Mina up on her offer on going to the arcade to blow off some steam with Hagakure, Jirou and her girlfriend Momo.

While you were away Bakugou room this time to set up his plan, that was neither perfected nor fully fleshed out in the slightest thanks to his dumbass friends impatience, he demanded that Kirishima, Denki and Sero aid him in doing so as all this was their fault to start off with.

“Why are we doing this again?” Denki moaned as he and Sero scattered rose petals on the ground lazily, their backs aching from hunching over so much that the blonde thought he’d become a modern day Quasimodo by the time they were finished their duties. “You fucked up my plans so this is your punishment since face,” Bakugou sneered, not even attempting to look back at the electric blonde, “now quite complaining and scatter those petals like I told you to.” The ash blonde has had quite enough with Denki’s childish whining and incompetence for something he had a hand in as much as the other idiots around him did.

“How come Kiri isn’t doing this?!” Sero was the one to complain now, pointing out the fact that Kirishima was seemingly going unpunished, holding a box of chocolates and a teddy bear wearing an eerily similar colour pallet as bakugous hero costume within his arms, walking in tandem with Bakugou flashing the two a cheeky smile and a peace sign as best as he could without our dropping the objects. “FAVOURITISM! I CALL FAVOURITISM!” Denki screeched as if he was some kind of activist for something totally inadequate and off the walls stupid. Kirishima only snickered at this after manly failed attempts of hiding his amusement the first few times a similar scene as this played out, Bakugou rolled his vermillion eyes at the duo who were slowly but surely testing his limited patience for bullshit and stupidity, he swore the two shared a singular brain cell that was gradually getting dumber and dumber with every word that slipped their lips without second thought or filter.

“I plead the fifth.” Was all he said just as something caught Sero’s onyx eye, curtesy of the widow panel next to them, upon first glance it didn’t look like anyone he knew but upon closer inspection the clearer the picture became as the puzzle pieces connected within his head, “ugh, guys...when were the girls meant to come back?”

“Not until this afternoon,” Kirishima clarifies, turning his attention to the raven haired male with a questionable expression, “why you ask?”

“Well...it’s either the arcade was shut or they decided it wasn’t worth it because they’re back.”

“WHAT?!” Denki shouted as he dropped the bucket of petals, rushing over to the widow to see what Sero was seeing before a barrage of ‘shits’ and ‘this isn’t goods’ came from his mouth only to get shoved aside by Bakugou who saw you and the girls pass through the gates, laughing about something, “Shit” he muttered under his breath, turning to the trio with an unrecognisable look, thinking of what to do before thinking that there was no point continuing the plan nor clean it up since that’ll take too long. “What’s wrong Baku-“ Kirishima started only to get cut off when a firm hand grasped his, Denki’s and Sero’s collars, dragging them down the way they came.

“Tape face is right, (y/n) is back, plan is a taking too long to put in motion and so will the cleaning task. We’re out of time.” They descended down the staircases with lengthy strides that left the trio to stumble after him. “What?!” Sero exclaimed, “but the plan?!” “Didn’t you hear me dumbass! We’re out of time and options other then to be straight forward!”

By the time they got to the outside, the boys caught sight of you sitting under a cherry blossom tree, alone with a book within your lap, you guys must’ve stopped at a bookstore on your way back; seeing the way Bakugou remained uncharacteristicly quite and how his grip slacked significantly enough for Denki and Sero to break free and make a break for it back into the dormitory whilst Kirishima places the box of chocolates and teddy bear with Bakugous costume right down to the mask that you once told him looked like the magnificent wings of a red emperor butterfly.

That comment alone made him the most flustered and defensive in his entire life, threshing to change his costume because of it. Did he? No because 1) the name of the butterfly sounded badass and 2) he wanted to keep something that has reminded you of something so innocent and elegant, it would leave a fond smile upon his lips as he subconsciously stroked the mask with feather light touches almost as if the material would break upon contact; he even remembered the time you told him that butterflies wings are entire constructed of scales when you couldn’t sleep one night several weeks ago.

Oh yeah, he’s very attentive to you, insanely attentive it shocked even himself sometimes but then he claimed it was because he was partially made to be the ideal man for you and you alone as he beloved that you were the ideal person for him in return. “Go ge ‘em tiger.” Kirishima said softly and encouragingly shoving Bakugou towards you slightly, which irked him a tad, but in order as to not alert you of his location he only growled lowly at the red head only to see that he was nowhere to be found, leaving the ashblonde all on his lonesome.

‘Fucking idiots’ he thought to himself as he finally gathered the strength required in asking you out once and for all but it seemed that the closer and closer he got the more and more obnoxious his thoughts became, telling him that this was a bad idea and that he should just turn away while he could and you’d be none the wiser. The vermillion eyed brute believed he was experiencing someone else’s thoughts instead of his own since he was quite loud, proud and unfiltered so that also meant his thoughts were about the same.

So why was he thinking such uncharacteristic bullshit then?

You saw a familiar spike of hair coming your way and a soft smile immediately painted itself upon your plump yet semi-cracked lips, a warmth spread throughout your chest at the sight of the man of your affections but then the negativity came flooding in the closer he got made your smile falter a fraction as they told you that even if he had feelings for you, he wouldn’t stay for long with how you looked compared to other girls like Momo and Mina.

He would leave you in a heartbeat when he realises that you aren’t enough for him, to face the fact that you were born be be alone. They would say this time and time again that soon enough you began believing it, never making a move and watching from afar as he would go on to date other girls much prettier then you, more confident then you, more sexier then you’ll ever be; your thoughts plagued your for so long that you didn’t recognise the hands that carelessly dropped a box of chocolates and a teddy bear to cup your cheeks with such gentleness that seemed to foreign to be Bakugou’s, leading you to tilt your head up to where your greeted by a pair of lips sensually caressing your own as they weaves expertly yet sloppily between your own while the sensation of heat rose upon your cheeks as you reached up with your hands, one cupping his cheek and the other upon his hand, letting your negative thoughts drown out as background noise by a more positive thought.

‘He does love you.’

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sweetcherrypie101 · 4 years ago

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Bloody Hyacinths (a Greek mythology retelling)

just a little something i wrote after reading the Trials of Apollo.Apollo and Hyacinthus own my heart 🥺🥺

i really hope uncle rick brings hyacinthus into the story at some point in a future book cos he’s been mentioned so many times(/ω＼)

The meadow stretched out in front of us_, _adorned by purple flowers. I had created the flowers so lovingly, as I desired them to be a reflection of his beautiful eyes. Such a deed should have been child’s play for the great Apollo, but when I looked into those purple orbs, the turbulence of colored sea that pulled me in, it seemed to me that nothing could compare to the accentuated color of his irises. It had been a while since we got off my sun chariot, and my horses were on their way down the sky without me. In literal terms, the sun was beginning to set, wrapping the meadow in its dim colors. I didn’t stand there as the sun god that day, I was fulfilling my duties as a lover. Of cherishing the most wonderful mortal I’d ever met.

I glanced at him with expectant eyes. I hadn’t felt such need for validation in a couple centuries to say the least. His skin wore a dark, honey color and his sturdy figure turned to face me as I said, “My dear Hyacinthus, accept this gift as an expression of my great love and admiration for you. This island is now yours. When you lie down and let these flowers engulf you, you’ll know what a simple gaze of yours does to me.’’

_ _

I woke up with a start, for the fifth time the past hour. I’d seen the visions at least a thousand times before, my heart getting heavier each time the scene flashed before my eyes. Ever since my father, Zeus, turned me into a mortal, my sorrows aggrandized. My tears streamed down my cheek in patterns down my blistered skin like water moving down a crevasse. The pain had been agonizing enough when I was a god, but my puny mortal self had a pathetic response to heartbreak—heartbreak a several thousand years old.

The mortal world is cruel. Fear and danger roamed around every corner like wind spirits on Calypso’s island. With my immortality snatched away, the fear of death was so dreadful; it sent shivers down my fragile body. I could feel the dark, caustic mist approaching me insidiously, behind which is the face of the infamous Thanatos, Death himself, prepared to pull me into the ‘void’. Millennias lived in glory, all shattered within seconds. Surely no one could have imagined the great Apollo crumbling under the weight of mortality like this, not even Thanatos, or Zeus, or Apollo himself.

Not even my lovely Hyacinthus, whose life had so cruelly been taken away by my carelessness. I winced as the image appeared in my brain once again, my discus flying like Zeus’ lightning, Zephyros’ wind bending its course towards Hyacinths’s mass of blonde hair, him turning his head just in time for the discus to leave an ugly gash across his forehead. At least that’s what it looked like to me, until he started pouring out of the wound. I remember letting out a scream as he fell, his weight cushioned by the bed of flowers. You’d think my priority would be saving him. It should’ve. But I was too absorbed by my anger towards Zephyros, while his life slipped away- in the arms of the god of healing, who did nothing to save him.

I spent centuries blaming Zephyros. But deep down I knew it was my arrogance that was at fault. At some point I faced the truth and the blow was strong enough to break an Olympian. Its definitely strong enough to kill a mortal…

_ _

His head was cradled in my arms, his luscious hair a gold and red mélange. The red was all over my hands, how a murderer’s hand should look. ‘tha thymámai,’ I whispered persistently into his ears until his fair lashes veiled his purple orbs, and his body went limp against mine. ‘I’ll remember. I’ll remember what it was like to love you.’ I would have done anything to save him, and you bet I could have, being a mighty Olympian. However, it was too late. Divinity meant so little at that moment. I wondered if he thought he was just another mortal in my life, who would wither anyway. That was the bitter truth. He was always destined to die anyway. But I, I was Apollo of the twelve Olympians. I had to carry on, without him. I had to carry on knowing the fact that I was the one responsible for his fall. It occurred to me, perhaps death isn’t as bad as it seems.

_ _

When I watched his face through teary eyes, death was the last thing I worried about. Such a punishment would give him justice, anyway. Or it could allow me to be with him, to love him once again. My vision was blurry but somehow his face was crystal clear. My tears only seemed to make his wonderful skin sparkle. And his eyes…their purple irises so intense, they seemed to radiate a fiery light. The light I had so longed to see. The light I yearned for thousands of years after. I would do anything to save the purple fire that light up my life although I was the one to shut it down completely.

His face began to dissolve as these thoughts clouded my head. I reached out a quivery hand, and just like that, he was gone completely.

The meadow stretched out in front of me. i stood alone, my heart aware of his absence and aching. I stared at the island smothered in purple bulbous flowers, at least ten shades lighter with their heads low. Conceivably mourning. And right there in the middle was a cluster of dark colored....hyacinths. Yes, that’s what i’ll call them. He lay there on the purple hyacinths as they soaked his blood and grew into red and magenta flowers. Gradually more of the bloody hyacinths would grow and acclimatize among the shades of purple, forever reminding me of that day.

‘tha thymámai.’

I woke up with a jolt again but it had stopped having an effect on me after the sixth time. I was drained of energy although i lay asleep the whole time. But i couldn’t sit up either.

The visions were gone and i was miserable. I noticed that i was holding onto something tightly- _very _tightly as my hand was numb and my nails bloody. As my vision focused, I realized it was a hyacinth- insidiously soaking the blood from my palm. I let out a sob. All my despair came rushing out through endless streams of tears. I felt like I could go on forever- but my abject body would be unable to comply. So i cried until I had no tears left. And my mind just thought of the one thought that hadn’t occurred to me in years. it was possible to die from heartbreak and perhaps-

Perhaps death isn’t as bad as it seems.

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fallinnflower · 5 years ago

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shhh

dino x reader (hogwarts!au, rivals!au)

jun hoshi the8 dino

“i want to fight with you / i’m not kidding / try it / wait”

When you first met Lee Chan, you thought he was the cutest boy you’d ever seen in your whole life. You met on the train to Hogwarts, and Muggle-born you had been more than enthusiastic to listen to anything and everything a Pureblood like Chan was willing to tell you about the wizarding world. It was him who bought you your first chocolate frog and then told you all about who was on the card you’d received, and then who was on his. You’d been certain, then and there, that you’d found the person who was going to be your best friend throughout his new part of your life.

Oh, how wrong you were. If you could go back in time, you’d tell yourself to pick a different compartment.

Lee Chan was sorted into Gryffindor, and you were put into Ravenclaw. At first, the both of you seemed to be on fine terms, though it soon became you chasing after Chan’s tail in a desperate attempt to salvage the friendship. (Not to mention your huge crush on him, which persisted despite its childish beginnings.) You’d try to sit near him in shared classes, offering to study with him in the library or waving at him enthusiastically in the halls.

But that all changed when Chan accused you of attempting to cast a love spell on him.

You’d done no such thing, of course, but Lee Chan saying so to his newfound Gryffindor friends was enough to seal your fate in that particular House. Nobody who knew you personally believed you would do such a thing, but Chan was popular and so most of Gryffindor was against you — even years later, most Gryffindors in your year still thought you were a shifty person. Just some Muggle who was desperate to use magic to get ahead in any way possible, crazy enough to try and use a love spell when you were only eleven years old.

And so, you decided to become Lee Chan’s rival. In academics, in merit, and even in quidditch. You were determined to prove to everyone, especially Lee Chan, that you were better than what they all thought you were.

Maybe you were trying to prove it to yourself, too.

You and Chan are both Beaters. For once, that particular part of the rivalry was a total coincidence — both of you just happened to be good enough when the position opened up on your respective teams. You have to admit that it’s kind of nice to have a reason to knock something heavy towards Chan, although you feel bad any time you hit him.

It’s one of the final games of the season, so the stakes are pretty high and the tension between you and Chan even higher. He’s been glaring at you more than usual throughout the entirety of the game, and you may be imagining it but it seems like he’s hitting the Bludger with far more force than usual.

Ravenclaw and Gryffindor are tied, and your eyes are on Chan as you work the perimeter. He's heading for the Bludger with his club raised, and you can see exactly the trajectory it’s going to be headed on—

Suddenly, the Snitch’s wing brushes against your cheek, momentarily distracting you. When you turn your gaze back to where Chan had been, you find that the Bludger is heading right for your face, too fast to fully avoid. You flip yourself upside down on your broom, but that only serves to make the Bludger slam into your wrists before you can lower yourself. The cry you let out sounds inhuman, and suddenly you’re plummeting down to the green field below you, everything becoming white noise in your ears.

You wake up in the infirmary. The nurse informs you that you can leave whenever you’d like, but warns that the spell will wear off soon and you may experience some soreness. Even though you’ve probably slept through dinner, judging by the dark sky you see through the windows, all you want to do is go to bed. You look down at your blood- and grass-stained uniform and wrinkle your nose, deciding that a shower might be your first priority.

It’s a shock to you when you find Lee Chan himself waiting outside of the infirmary for you, holding a plate of food and looking unnecessarily sullen. His head jerks up when you exit, and for a long moment the both of you just stare awkwardly at each other.

“Hi,” he says, lamely. You blink at him.

“Hey.” Your voice sounds awfully gravelly, so you clear your throat and try again. “Were you, uh— were you waiting for me?”

“No! Or, well, kind of. Everyone said I should save dinner for you. To apologize.” You’re shocked to find that the Gryffindor boy appears to be blushing. Jerkily, he shoves the plate into your hands, and you look down to find all your typical mealtime favorites arranged rather neatly on the dish. You raise an eyebrow.

“Thanks, Lee.”

“‘Course.”

As you move to pick up the fork, you suddenly feel a twinge of that pain the nurse warned you about in your shoulder. Inadvertently, you wince, and despite the dimness of the hallway Chan seems to notice.

“You okay?” he asks, hesitantly. You decide to leave the fork where it is for now. You’ll just eat in your dorm.

“Yeah,” you reply. “The spell must be wearing off. Did my shoulder dislocate when I fell or something?”

“Yeah. Broke your wrist and your nose, too.” He wrinkles his nose for a second, as though deep in thought, and you hate that you find it cute. “Oh, right, I was supposed to tell you — we’ve been put on equipment duty for the rest of the week.”

“What?” you cry. “Why?” Chan shrugs, dusting off his robes and preparing to leave.

“Captains said our rivalry is getting out of hand.” You fix him with a glare which he ignores, “See you tomorrow, L/N.” He smirks, and with that he turns on his heel and heads back towards the Gryffindor Common Room.

Gathering equipment with Lee Chan is about as bad as one would expect. Although you aren’t sporting many bruises from yesterday’s incident, you can still feel an ache — it’s especially bad when you fall victim to a small sneezing fit whilst packing up the quidditch equipment on the field. You’re grateful, at least, that your nose doesn’t start bleeding after all that. You dig your wand out of your pocket impatiently, pointing it towards your nose.

“Ferula,” you murmur, letting out a sigh as the throbbing pain eases almost instantaneously. You’d been trying to use the spell as infrequently as possible so that you’d still have a pain tolerance, but now really isn’t the time. That fact doesn’t stop Chan from laughing at you, however, and when you shoot him a look he simply grins at you smugly.

“What, can’t handle a sore nose?” he snorts. “Didn’t know you were such a baby, L/N.” You slam the lid of the chest shut, securing it before lifting it up into your arms.

“Shut up, Lee,” you grumble, wanting nothing more than to shower and finish your homework in bed. It’s hard to believe that last night you nearly thought he was nice after he brought you all your favorite foods. To think you had the nerve to believe he’d actually cared or paid attention to you for any reason other than to use it against you.

You shove the door to the equipment shed open so hard it bangs against the wall, dropping the chest on the floor and watching as the dust settles. Chan is quick to do the same, dusting off his hands beside you.

“Gonna cry about your shoulder next, L/N?” He teases, and you feel your hands balling into fists, all your muscles tensing up.

“Don’t test me, Lee.” When he laughs, you can’t help but whirl on him, absolutely seething.

“I really wanna fight with you,” you snarl, hoping Chan is bristling at you being all up in his space. From the redness beginning to creep up his neck, you think your tactics are working. He scoffs again, his laugh coming out a bit like a bark, and you clench your jaw. “I’m not kidding.”

“Try it,” Chan grits out, seemingly equally as worked up as you are. You can practically feel the tension in the air around you, bent about to snap, when suddenly Chan’s whole demeanor changes. He stiffens, then turns his head away from you, brows furrowed for an entirely different reason. You’re about ready to snap at him, but he holds up a hand.

“Wait.” That pisses you off more, until you realize what Chan is getting at. He cranes his neck slightly, obviously listening for something—

Suddenly, the shed door swings shut and locks behind the both of you. Chan immediately moves to open it, then lets out a heavy sigh.

“What’s going on?” you demand. He glares at the door.

“It seems like someone is meddling.” There’s a laugh from outside the door as someone else mutters a spell, and then a voice you recognize as the Gryffindor captain, Kwon Soonyoung, sings,

“Stay in there until you learn to get along, kids!” The sound of his footsteps, accompanied, you assume, by your own captain's, gradually disappear, and both you and Chan sink to the floor of the shed.

“Well,” you huff. “Now what? Are we supposed to play nice or something?” Chan shoots you a pointed look, raising one knee just so he can rest his arm on it and have a comfortable spot to rest his head. His hair falls into his eyes, and in the half-light of the dingy shed he looks more like the young boy you had a crush on on your first train ride to Hogwarts. You push that thought away as he begins to speak.

“I guess,” he shrugs, then his gaze finds yours. “Why do you hate me so much, anyways? We were friends back in first year.” It seems as though his eyes have swallowed up all the light in the room, and you shift uncomfortably under his attentive gaze.

“Well— because you started hating me.” Chan’s brows furrow at your words.

“Me? I never hated you.” You scoff at that, scuffing the toe of your boot into the dirt and avoiding absolutely any eye contact. You hate the lump that forms in your throat.

“Yeah, like I believe that,” you reply, but your words aren’t as sharp as you’d like. “If you didn’t hate me, then why’d you spread that rumor? Most of Gryffindor’s Sixth-Years still think I’m some spell-happy Muggle-born.”

You don’t look up to see how his expression changes, softens — you don’t want to look at him at all with the tears in your eyes. He clears his throat awkwardly, tracing an absent-minded circle in the dirt on the floor with his index finger. In the heavy silence you have half a mind to kick the door down and run, just so you won’t cry in front of him, but he speaks before you can do said stupid thing.

“I didn’t think it would really matter,” he says. “I was just being a stupid kid.” You huff out a half-hearted laugh.

“That’s the problem,” you say, keeping your voice low. “We were both stupid kids. I followed you around because I thought you were cute, and you started a rumor because you thought I was annoying. Dumb kid stuff.” Chan once again lets the silence linger for a long moment before speaking up,

“You thought I was cute?” You look up at him sharply, glaring through the tears still lingering in your eyes.

“Is that all you got from all this?” you ask. Even in the dim lighting though you think you can pick out some redness in his cheeks.

“Well— I mean—” His breath huffs, shoulders slumping. “I thought you were cute, too. Still kinda do.”

“Alright, slow down,” you interrupt, letting out your first genuine laugh in what feels like the entire day. “We’re not even friends, don’t get ahead of yourself.” For once, the teasing tone in your voice doesn’t have any malice behind it, and the laugh Chan responds with sounds almost bashful. He runs a hand through his hair, looking up at you as his bang flop back down against his forehead.

“We’ve kinda been dumb all this time, haven’t we? Not just when we were kids.”

“Yeah,” you reply, finally able to meet his gaze without feeling angry or sad. “Truce?”

“I’ll do you one better,” he says, standing up from where he’s seated on the ground. With that signature smirk on his face, he holds a hand out to you to help you up,

“Why don’t we just start over?” You look up into his eyes, searching for any hint of the antagonism you used to see, and can’t hold back your smile when you find nothing but the genuine kindness you had been so drawn to as a child.

“Deal.” Your hand slips into his, and Chan helps you rise to your feet. The two of you simply bask in the calm, hopeful atmosphere growing between the two of you for a moment, before the clouds of dirt and dust you had stirred up from standing suddenly cause you to sneeze again. Then, with the mood sufficiently ruined, you’re suddenly reminded of how this whole situation started, shooting Chan a confused look,

“So, how do we get them to unlock the door?”

#lee chan #dino scenarios #dino imagines #seventeen fanfic #seventeen fanfiction #seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines #seventeen texts #kpop fanfiction #kpop texts #kpop writing #kpop scenarios #kpop reactions #My writing

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yadds · 5 years ago

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Tony Reappears, Pt 5 - Tony gains a new confidant in the form of one Peter Parker, Pepper tries to understand.

Part 1 - what would happen if Tony appeared out of nowhere to be found by Peter, who’s still haunted by Beck’s reality bending? Part 2 - Tony is in bad shape and Peter helps, Strange snarks, and Pepper gives him the kick in the pants he needs. Part 3 - Tony has come back with more than he bargained for. Part 4: Tony is Iron Man. Plus, Tony gets to go home.

____________________________________________________________________

It was a Wednesday night and Tony was trying desperately to find a distraction.

He’d hit a block in his control design and was spiraling, down, down into the depths of his bitterness and guilt. He couldn’t focus on anything, head jerking up periodically as he drifted in and out of consciousness while sitting at his work table. He also couldn’t stand the thought of actually trying to sleep in this mindset.

He flung his schematic holos away, growling in frustration as he dropped his head into his hands. His eyes cut to the side to check the time. 12:15 AM. Too late to call and pester reasonable people. He sighed.

But wait. Maybe not too late for a college student.

“Fri, call-“ he cut himself off. No. What if Peter has a big exam in the morning and had just gotten to sleep? Or what if he was out actually enjoying his life? It’s not like he was just sitting around his dorm waiting for Tony to call.

“Who would you like me to call, boss?” Friday asked.

“Never mind, sweetheart. I just saw the time,” he fibbed, ”I don’t think anyone is up for a call from me right now.”

“Peter is currently taking a break from patrolling,” Friday dutifully reported. Talk about an intuitive AI.

Tony arched a brow. “Is he now? And how do you know that?”

“Karen told me,” she replied. Right, they were basically connected at the metaphorical hip now.

He mulled this information over for a minute before he bit the bullet. “Okay, old girl. Call him up,” he called, leaning back in his chair and steepling his hands over his chest.

He was weirdly nervous as he listened to the phone ring.

His heart was racing by the time Peter answered with a breathless, “Hello?”

Tony’s mouth opened but nothing came out, suddenly speechless. What was he even supposed to say? I was feeling mopey so I called someone half my age to cheer me up? What the fuck was wrong with him?

“Mr. Stark?” Peter questioned as the silence drug on. “Shit, did I hang up on you? Damn it, Karen, I thought we’d fixed that! Ughhhhh why am I this way? Well we’d better call him back before-”

Tony chuckled, nerves evaporating as his chest filled with amused affection. “No need, kid, I’m here.”

“Oh, great! Except for the fact that you definitely just heard me rambling like an idiot. Am I talking fast? I feel like I’m talking really fast.”

“Definitely fast. You good? I thought you were patrolling - you’re not doing that high are you? Don’t make me lecture you about stupid choices,” he warned teasingly.

“No, of course not! I’ve just been slinging around a lot, which gets my blood pumping and gets me kinda hyped up, you know?”

Tony nodded. “Ah, to be young and enjoy life just for the hell of it,” he said sagely.

“Don’t you get that feeling too? I mean, come on, you can fly!” Peter asked, huffing as Tony heard him sit down heavily.

“I guess I used to,” Tony said thoughtfully. “It’s been a long time since I’ve done it just for kicks, though.”

“Well you should!” Peter insisted.

Tony was quiet for a moment as he thought about it, remembering the thrill of flight the first time in his Mark II. But the idea of getting back in the suit made his chest sieze. He drew in a sharp breath before gathering himself enough to respond quietly, “I don’t know if I can.”

Peter hummed. “Yeah, I get that,” he said softly. “It took me a while, too. I always had flashbacks of...well, you know. And panic attacks. But it got better,” he offered.

Tony felt that knot in his chest loosen just slightly. It didn’t make it all better, but it did help, knowing someone else understood what he was going through and could validate it. He appreciated how Peter was so casual about it - he obviously took it seriously but it was also something totally normal and okay. But he’d known for years that Peter is much stronger than he is, and not just physically.

“Maybe,” Tony replied hesitantly, not quite as optimistic about his own mental health improvement capability. He’d been in some pretty tough spots before and come back, but this was the first time he’d died. But so had Peter and half the rest of the world, so apparently that wasn’t even particularly noteworthy.

“So, anything exciting tonight, Spiderling?” Tony asked.

Peter graciously allowed the subject change, rambling happily about stopping a mugger, walking a girl to her car who was leaving work late, playing catch with a couple kids in the park. It was amazingly relaxing, listening to Peter recounting his night, voice animated in a way that indicated wild gesticulation on the other end of the line.

It made his throat a little thick, remembering how fucking wholesome this kid was. This was the first time he’d gotten to hear this again since...before Titan, almost ten years ago. He was suddenly grateful to himself for making it possible to reverse the snap, in a way he hadn’t been able to truly appreciate until this very moment.

He realized Peter had paused, the quiet stretching before he questioned softly, “Mr. Stark? You okay?”

Tony cleared his throat. “Yeah, ‘course. Keep telling me about the- the, uh, search for the best slice of pizza in Manhattan; I’m dying to know, here.”

After another hesitation, Peter continued, detailing all the places he’d visited in the past few weeks.

Tony leaned back, closed his eyes, and smiled.

A week later found Tony standing in front of one of his suits that had made it back to the lab, kept all this time, he assumed, for sentimental reasons.

He reached out but recoiled before he could make contact, breath catching.

Shaking his head to clear it, he turned quickly and went back to his work table.

They had a schedule now. Tony spent the weekends at the cabin with the girls and occasionally picked up Morgan in the evenings after school for a few hours.

He’d finished his control protocols (now named FEMA because he was his own natural disaster), which used subdermal chips to monitor his vitals and would deploy nanites from the wristbands he now wore to restrain him in the instance of nighttime adrenaline spikes - an unfortunately common occurrence, as he was plagued by nightmares. The restraints didn’t particularly help with the nightmare situation, but they were a necessity.

He’d start out in bed with Pepper, but when she fell asleep, he felt the panic settle gradually over him until his chest felt concave with the pressure of it, breath coming shorter and shorter. So he’d roll out of bed and go down to the crude lab he had out there, usually tinkering with cars and blasting music loud enough that he’d hopefully drown out that inner voice whispering soft, hateful self-incriminations.

He’d quickly discovered that alcohol no longer had any effect on him. He also discovered, in a fit of desperation, that neither did drugs. So his faithful old friends had deserted him when he needed them the most.

So he was trying so-called “healthy coping mechanisms” now, like hard work and spending time with loved ones. Which was great, but Tony’s issues were gargantuan and he was an addict at heart; he craved any release like a starving man craved food (which he was actually quite familiar with, so he knew it was apt). He knew this, knew he came on way too strong, too needy, and was just...too much. In his attempts to not smother his people, he found himself becoming withdrawn and distant, tormented by the certainty that he’d drive them away with his clingy dependence.

Tony was terrified Pepper would remember just how inadequate he’d always been, how much his love for her, his money, his intelligence never overcame his inability to give her what she needed. He knew she still talked to Tom, and he’d never ask her to completely cut him out of her life, but it didn’t help his insecurities. He would see Pepper’s jaw clench or her eyes dart away and he’d find a way to quickly shut up and make himself scarce.

Happy would check his watch and Tony would suddenly recall an important task running in the lab he needed to check on.

Morgan, his sweet angel, would gladly hang off him until the end of time, but he knew she needed to get back to having a normal life. Well, as normal as life gets when you have a family of billionaires and superheroes.

And he also didn’t want her to see behind the curtain, to see what a weak man her father really was.

Rhodey came by when he could, but he was kept busy with his duties in DC and a new wife. Tony had done enough to damage Rhodey’s career and relationships in the past. He didn’t need to add his newest level of instability onto his friend like that.

And Peter. He never seemed annoyed by Tony’s random check-ins but also didn’t have a problem telling him when he was busy, which actually did more to allay Tony’s worries about being a nuisance than anything. Tony never found any indications from Peter that he should pull back. But he did anyway. Because, well, Peter was a goddamn blessing to the world. And if Tony could, he’d bottle him up and keep him all for himself.

So, anyway, “healthy” was...probably still not an accurate term for his coping mechanisms, shoddy as they were. But at least he wasn’t poisoning his body into an early grave. Again. Ha-fucking-ha.

“Mr. Stark?” Peter questioned one night.

“Yeah, kid?” Tony replied easily, distracted by the circuit board he was soldering while they talked.

“Did I do something wrong?” he asked.

Tony’s brows snapped down and he automatically looked up at the screen in front of him despite the fact that this was an audio call, which was frustrating since he’d really like to see Peter’s face to see if he could tell what had brought on this madness.

“What?” He wracked his brain, trying to figure out what the hell he’d done now that made Peter feel like he’d done something wrong. He hissed as the soldering iron pressed heavily into his finger. He finally set the tool down and looked down to see the circuit board he’d been working on was ruined now. Not surprising.

“What?” he said again. “Of course not. I mean not as far as I know. What the hell are you talking about?”

Peter’s heavy sigh echoed through the lab. “I dunno, just thought maybe I’d pissed you off or done something to annoy you,” he said, too casually. Tony could perfectly imagine the shrug and eye aversion that would go with that statement.

“What?” Tony intoned again. He knew he sounded like a broken record but seriously, what? “Not at all, kid. I mean, not more than normal. Which was a joke, sorry, I can’t help myself. In all seriousness though, I’m not upset at you. Why would you even think that?”

“Okay, sorry, it’s nothing. Anyway-” Peter said quickly, trying to change the subject.

“No, no, no,” Tony interrupted. “Nuh uh. Circle back around here. I’m not letting this one go. I need to know what I’m doing that’s making you feel like that so that I can fix it.”

“No! You’re not doing anything wrong, Mr. Stark,” Peter insisted.

“Well, obviously I am. Just tell me what’s going on, kid,” Tony coaxed.

After a brief hesitation, Peter took a deep breath before responding. “You’ve just been kind of...distant, I guess. I felt like we’d been getting along so well when I was visiting and we were talking on the phone more and it was like we were...friends, you know? And it just seemed like lately you haven’t been as engaged and you’ve been calling less. But I know you’re super busy and you’ve got a lot going on and more important people to hang out with, so I’m sorry, I’m just being overly sensitive.”

Tony’s elbows fell down onto the table in front of him, hands cradling his head. Of fucking course. His idea to help spare the kid had just ended up hurting him. And how was he supposed to explain this without sounding as fucked up as he actually was?

“Mr. Stark?” Peter pressed softly.

“Yeah kid, still here. Just...give me just a minute, okay?” he replied wearily.

Tony listened to Peter’s soft breaths, the rustling of the wind, the NYC traffic far in the background over the line.

“Pete, I - fuck, I don’t know really know what to say,” he said, unable to come up with one of his usual lines. “Just know that it is definitely not your fault. I’m not tired of you or upset at you or any other bullshit you’re coming up with in that head of yours. And I don’t know what ‘more important’ people you think I’m hanging out with, but that’s definitely not the case either. I mean, hell, I think only maybe ten people are even aware I’m alive. But regardless, even if I had every single person on the planet at my disposal, you would still be one of the most important people to me. So don’t sell yourself so short.”

He heard Peter’s breath hitch slightly before he cleared his throat. “Oh. Well, okay. And, uh, same. Just so you know.”

Tony’s lips twitched in a tired smile. Despite the awkwardness of it, he knew Peter was ridiculous sincere about it. “And hey, you can always call me, too - stop making me do all the work.”

“Okay,” Peter said. “I just don’t want to bother you. Between trying to get your family back together and figure out your new body, I know you’ve got a lot on your plate, so I don’t want to be a nuisance.”

“Never,” Tony replied immediately. “Nah, kid, you’re not a nuisance. I like hearing from you. And honestly, you’re probably my best source for figuring out the physical craziness and I’m not utilizing you near enough for that.”

Peter hummed. “Okay, well just promise to let me know if you’re busy or if I’m getting to be too much.”

“Same,” Tony responded, echoing Peter’s earlier statement.

As Peter huffed a laugh, Tony felt confident enough that had been handled as much as it needed to be and launched into an explanation of his current project.

Thank God, because the moment of touchy-feely honesty was surely going to start making his skin crawl.

It became a thing: Tony calling when he was stressed and couldn’t sleep, Peter calling frustrated about classes, and everything in between. Peter realized that Tony was basically under house arrest so he’d send him pictures of random things he saw on the street - a cute dog, a weird sign, his lunch for the day, a crazy outfit someone was wearing.

More and more often, Pepper would come downstairs looking for Tony when he left their bed on the weekends to find him lounging in the lab, laughing as he talked to Peter in the middle of the night.

At first, he’d see her come in and nod and she’d smile back, relieved to see him happy and connecting with someone else.

Tonight, she was not smiling. Tony noticed her jaw clenched and eyes shuttered when he glanced at her and he frowned.

“Hey, Pete, I’m gonna have to cut this short, okay? We’ll talk later,” Tony cut in.

“Oh,” Peter said dumbly. “Uh, yeah, sure, no problem. Good night Mr. Stark!”

“Night, kid,” Tony replied before promptly hanging up.

“What’s wrong, Pep?” Tony asked, turning and giving her his full attention.

She stood in front of him, arms crossed and fingers tapping agitatedly on her opposite elbow as she battled with whether to say what she really wanted. Tony was quiet as he waited for her to decide.

“I’m trying to be understanding, Tony,” Pepper finally said. “I am. But are you ever going to be able to sleep in the same bed as me or is this going to be how it is for the rest of our lives?”

“Honestly? I have no idea. As long as I feel like you or Morgan are in danger then the answer is no.”

“Isn’t that what the FEMA protocol is for?” she asked.

“Yes, but it’s one thing to have it work in a test situation and another thing completely to trust it with your life. And I don’t. Do you think I don’t want to be able to sleep next to you?” Tony said, frustrated.

“Some days I feel like I really don’t know. You seem perfectly content to come down here and talk to Peter every night,” she said.

“Is that a problem?” Tony asked, brows furrowed. “Me talking to Peter?”

“No. Yes. I don’t know,” Pepper said, sighing, hand coming up to cover her face. “I just feel like you’re able to talk to him in a way we haven’t been able to manage and I’m...jealous,” she admitted. “And yes, I know how incredibly childish and stupid this sounds.”

“Hey,” Tony said softly, standing up and coming to grab her by the elbows and pull her close. “No, it’s not stupid at all. I get it. Mine and Peter’s relationship is easier than ours, and it’s not fair. But it’s because we have a simpler relationship - we’re not trying to juggle a romantic relationship, a parenting relationship, and a potential working relationship in addition to our friendship.”

“But it’s not just that,” Pepper said, looking up at him. “You talk to him in a way you don’t talk to me. And I never see you laugh like that with me - it’s like you’re always waiting for the other shoe to drop.”

Tony dropped his gaze, pulling back slightly. “I guess I also don’t feel like I have as much to lose with Peter.”

“Because he doesn’t mean as much to you or because you think he’s a sure thing and I’m not?” Pepper asked bluntly.

He pulled back another step, sighing as he ran his hand through his hair. “I wouldn’t say Peter necessarily means less to me. Of course he doesn’t mean more than you, he’s just important to me in a different way - like how you and Morgan and Happy are all important to me in different ways.”

“And?”

Tony didn’t want to answer the second part of that question. But Pepper was staring expectently at him, no out in sight. “What do you want me to say, Pepper?” he asked wearily.

“I want you to tell me why you always act like you’ve got one foot out the door.”

Tony grit his teeth before replying. “Because I know I’m gonna fuck this up and I still don’t really know where I stand with you. So instead of bumbling my way through it, it just seems...I don’t know, safer, I guess, to just be ready for it all to explode in my face so I’m prepared for the inevitable end.”

“You’re being a coward,” Pepper said harshly, eyes filmy and lower lip trembling.

Tony recoiled, eyes hurt and wary, but didn’t deny it. “You’re right,” he admitted softly. “But can you honestly tell me that you’re not waiting for the same thing, Pep?”

She immediately started shaking her head. “No, of course I’m not! I…” but she trailed off.

“I see it,” Tony cut in before she could gather herself. “I see how you’re always waiting for me to disappoint, bracing yourself for how to deal with it and make this work. I’ve always admired your problem-solving abilities, honey, but this shouldn’t have to be something that you grit your teeth and push through just to get it done. I don’t want to be another chore.”

Pepper shut her eyes tight, brow scrunched in pain briefly before she opened them again. She sniffled quietly, a tear tracking slowly down her left cheek as the rest of her face remained stoic.

As the silence drew out, she sighed, shoulders slumping. “Maybe that’s true. And I’m sorry for making you feel that way.”

Tony shrugged in response, scuffing his foot across the floor.

“But I still want to work on this, on us,” she said.

“Me too, honey,” Tony murmured, stepping back into her space.

Pepper smiled tremulously, reaching out and twining her fingers behind his neck. “So come to bed,” she coaxed.

Tony stiffened, shaking his head. But as he opened his mouth, she put her finger to his lips, smile turning coy. “Beds aren’t just for sleeping, Tony.”

Eyes widening, Tony blinked helplessly for several seconds before gathering her in his arms and bolting for the main house, Pepper screeching in laughter on the way.

It was wonderful.

The closeness, the intimacy, was everything he’d craved, miles of warm, smooth skin against his own. He trembled violently, overwhelmed, skin soaking up the contact it had been deprived of for so, so long.

It was beautiful.

His hands glided over every inch of her, worshiping her body until she’d pulled him back up impatiently. He sank into her, warmth that permeated through him, down to his bones.

It was earth-shattering.

As she came apart beneath him and he reached his peak, he felt his blood surge, hands flying to the headboard to brace himself. Groaning deeply, his hips jolted forward and the headboard exploded in his grip.

It was terrible.

Chest heaving, he looked down and froze, seeing her wide eyes staring up at him, splintered shards of wood in her hair. He scrambled backwards, all that glorious warmth turned to ice in his veins. Despite her rushed assurances, he stumbled out of the room.

It was never happening again.

____________________________________________________________________

So I ended up having to split up this update. Because I seem to have a major problem with not having an ending that’s depressing.

I’ve got a pretty good chunk of the next part written (look forward to Peter visiting Tony but everything still being frustratingly sweet and platonic, and a brief return mention of badass/scary!Peter) so hopefully the delay between updates will be shorter buuuuut no guarantees. Kids, y’all, they are a major time and energy suck - but they’re worth it because I love them :)

taglist: @marvelobsessedrat, @dim-ships-johnlock, @starkerstories @t1of3 @consciencecoward @peachbabytarte

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chameleonwritess · 5 years ago

Text

Feels Like Home (Ch 1)

Myriad of Stars

Not-So-Secretly in Love

Feels Like Home (Ch1 | Ch2 | Ch3)

Forever Starts Today (Epilogue)

Extras:

Infirmary Duties

Fandom: Percy Jackson

Pairing: Nico di Angelo/Will Solace

Nico's summer has been amazing thanks to Will but he isn't ready to face the following year when it ends. He knows there are going to be a lot of changes this year and that frightens Nico. Luckily, Will is there for him through everything.

Word Count: 7446

Read the whole Myriad of Stars series on AO3

Chapter 1- Demigods and Parents

Nico di Angelo was pretty sure that he’d had the best summer of his entire life.

Minus almost being destroyed by Gaia, of course, but he was grouping that with the rest of the year which had, quite frankly, been dreadful.

Still, as soon as the impending threat had vanished, Will Solace had stepped into Nico’s life and suddenly everything seemed to make sense. Nico had found not only a place where he belonged and could be himself but a person with whom he belonged and could be himself with. As the son of Hades, that in itself was a miracle Nico had never seen coming.

The fact that Will was attractive, funny, caring, utterly charming and the most infuriating demigod Nico had ever met just made everything so much better.

Of course, summer didn’t last forever, though. Nico knew it didn’t and yet he’d somehow hoped it would, causing reality to crash down around him during the last week of the holidays.

“My mom’s picking me up from Camp next week,” Will announced very suddenly one afternoon whilst the two were sitting inside Nico’s cabin, playing with some of Nico’s old mythomagic cards for the sake of nostalgia and because the two of them were huge nerds.

Nico’s eyes snapped up immediately.

“You’re going home?” he asked in a slightly strangled voice. So much for concealing his emotions.

“Not exactly,” Will said. Nico raised an eyebrow at him, wondering what that was supposed to mean.

“Meaning?”

“Well, I go to school but not properly,” Will started to explain, “We need a healer at Camp all the time and now that Lee’s dead, I’m the best healer we’ve got.”

“How does that work, then? I thought school was a full time thing?” Nico asked. He knew he’d been to school in Italy but the memories were very faint. He hadn’t even thought about going to school since; he’d always been too tied up in monsters, Titans, giants or whatever else was deciding to destroy the world.

“It usually is. My mum has a special agreement with the headteacher, though. I go to school for a few weeks each term so that I can collect all the work and then I return to Camp so that no one dies from falling off the lava wall or getting a leg sliced off in Capture the Flag,” Will explained.

“So you won’t be gone for long?” Nico checked. Will chuckled.

“Why, you gonna miss me?” he teased, nudging Nico’s leg with his own. Nico rolled his eyes.

“I was just thinking about how peaceful Camp would be without you. No Jackson bugging me, no Grace bugging me, no you bugging me,” he said wistfully.

“Hey!” Will complained, “we only bug you because we love you. Besides you were totally upset when I said I was going home after summer.”

“Was not,” Nico spluttered.

“Was too,” Will retorted.

“Not.”

“Too.”

“Alright, shut up, of course I was going to miss you,” Nico finally relented, shoving Will, who had decided to lean his body right over Nico’s, in the chest. It was suddenly dawning on Nico just how much he would miss Will, though.

Even before they’d started dating, Nico had still spent the majority of his time with Will and over the last month or so the two had practically been inseparable. Now he was going to have to go for weeks without seeing him. Nico already felt suffocated. Never had he expected to become so reliant on one person.

“Ha, that’s pretty gay,” Will smirked in retaliation to Nico pushing him. Nico inhaled deeply.

“I changed my mind, can you leave today?” he deadpanned. Will laughed and flopped down on his back besides Nico on the bed.

“I’m bored of mythomagic,” he stated.

“You get bored easily,” Nico shrugged.

“True, but I wanted to ask you something,” Will replied, looking up at Nico from the bed from what Nico assumed was not a very flattering angle on his behalf.

“Go on, then,” Nico encouraged with an unenthusiastic eye roll to accompany it.

“It’s going to be weird spending time apart after we’ve spent all summer together so I was wondering if you wanted to come over and stay at mine during the first weekend? My mom will love you, I can sense it, and she’s always happy to let my friends stay over,” Will offered.

Nico swallowed a lump in his throat. Meeting Will’s mom had not been something he’d ever even considered and being new to the twenty-first century, never mind just dating, made Nico panic a little that he had absolutely no idea how he was supposed to act around a mother.

The only parental figure in his life was Hades and Nico doubted he could just nip down to the Underworld to pay his dad a visit and ask a few questions about his love life. It wasn’t really the father-son relationship they had.

“Don’t worry,” Will jumped in, noticing Nico’s hesitance, “it’s just an offer and I don’t want you to feel like you have to. I know you’ve probably not done anything like that before but just so you know, my mom is lovely. She’s the kindest woman I’ve met. She already knows I’m gay and will be so thrilled to meet you. I can already tell she’s going to love you.”

Nico raised an eyebrow. People didn’t exactly have a habit of ‘loving’ him upon first encounters.

“Really?” Nico asked, surprising even himself at how weak his voice sounded. Will sat up on the bed and placed his hands on Nico’s shoulders, forcing him to look into his dazzling blue eyes.

“I mean it. I’ve never disliked you and people say the two of us are pretty similar. She’s also one of the most stubborn people I know. When I was younger she’d keep me quarantined if I got a slight tickle in my throat so if you think I’m bad, wait till you meet her,” Will reassured Nico. He smiled slightly at Will’s anecdote.

“It’s hard to imagine anyone more stubborn than you,” Nico smirked.

“I’m not just Apollo’s good looks and charms, y’know,” Will teased, sending Nico a wink. Nico laughed at the action and allowed his head to fall against Will’s chest.

“I’ll think about it,” Nico agreed. Will wrapped his arms around Nico’s chest and kissed the top of his head.

“Thank you,” he said, “it means a lot to me.”

Nico still felt anxiety bubble up inside of him at the thought of spending a weekend with Will’s mother but after everything Will had done for him, this was the least he could do in return, especially if it meant a lot to Will.

He just wished it didn’t feel like such a big deal to him.

Will had to return to his own cabin before long (ever since it was confirmed that the two were together, the Apollo cabin had taken to threatening Will in order to ensure he returned back each night) and Nico was left to his own thoughts.

He knew how much Will’s mother meant to him. It wasn’t really school that Will was going home to- it was Naomi Solace. He always spoke so highly of her which just made Nico even more anxious. Normally, he didn’t care what people thought of him. The first time he’d realised he cared about what Will thought of him was when he’d begun to realise that he viewed Will as a little more than just ‘that annoying healer’.

Still, he hadn’t exactly gone out of his way to ensure Will actually liked him. Never before had he felt the need to make a dedicated effort to ensure someone didn‘t dislike him..

It was terrifying.

Nico also had literally no clue how he was supposed to interact with his boyfriend’s mother. The only adults he ever even spoke to were Chiron, Mr D, Hades and occasionally Persephone if he was in the mood for an argument. All of whom were immortal beings- definitely not mortal mothers.

Feeling Cabin 13 growing gradually stuffier as his panic increased, Nico stood up abruptly and decided he needed to take a walk outside to calm his nerves and get some fresh air. It was still half an hour until curfew so luckily, the cleaning Harpies wouldn’t be around to tear his flesh apart just yet.

Instead of wandering to Nico and Will’s usual spot, Nico continued further down until he was sat by the far edge of the canoe lake where few campers ever seemed to go. Nico himself rarely sat by this side of the lake, despite its proximity to the Hades cabin.

If Nico had been hoping for some brooding time to himself, though, he was severely disappointed as a tall, dark figure appeared from the darkness of the trees and made his way to Nico’s side. Nico had recognised him immediately.

“Father,” he greeted, sounding distinctly unimpressed with Hades’s sudden appearance.

“Hello, son. It’s been a while,” Hades commented. Nico looked at him sternly.

“You closed off the Underworld so I couldn’t enter,” he pointed out. Hades chuckled nervously, a sound that seemed utterly strange coming from the Lord of the Underworld.

“That I did. I apologise. It wasn’t to prevent you or Hazel from entering, I assure,” Hades said awkwardly. Nico let out a sigh.

“What is it that you want?” he asked. Whilst Nico knew he saw his Dad far more than other demigods saw their Olympian parents, Hades still only tended to appear when he wanted something from him. Either that or he was going to gift him a skeleton chef to go with his skeleton Chauffeur, Jules-Albert.

“I just wanted to catch up with you, Nico,” Hades said simply. Nico raised an eyebrow.

“That’s unnerving,” he commented. Hades sighed.

“I still can never tell if you’re being sarcastic or not,” he complained. Nico shrugged. He wasn’t entirely sure whether he was or not, himself.

“Anyway,” Hades continued, “the Apollo sprout.”

Nico’s cheeks flushed, “Wait, this is about Will?”

“Oh, that’s his name. I couldn’t remember if it was Bill or Will. Yes. You seem… infatuated with him, correct?” Hades asked. Nico groaned and placed his head in his hands. The last conversation he’d ever wanted to have with his father was about his love life.

“Do you have to talk to me about this?” he asked.

“I’m not allowed to get involved with my son’s personal life?” Hades questioned. Nico nearly willed the ground to open up and swallow him. He was tempted to do it had he not known that Hades would just follow him anyway.

“Fine, yes, I’m happy with him. If you have a problem with it I don’t care,” he snapped. Hades looked almost taken aback.

“I have no problem. In fact, I’m quite relieved. He isn’t Jackson or Grace and he has a good sense of humour,” Hades said in an almost approving tone. Nico’s father’s words suddenly sunk in. How did Hades know that Will had a sense of humour?

“Have you been watching me?” Nico spluttered. If Hades skin hadn’t still been so deathly pale, Nico would have thought he was going red.

“Not exactly. I just like to check up on you sometimes. I noticed an abnormal amount of laughing so wanted to assure you were okay,” Hades explained. Now it was Nico’s turn to go red.

“Yeah, well, he does have a good sense of humour,” he mumbled. Hades nodded thoughtfully.

“Invite him down for dinner,” Hades suggested, “I’d like to meet him personally.”

“Please don’t threaten my boyfriend,” Nico begged, thinking how strange it was to refer to Will as his boyfriend in front of someone else for once.

“I would never. I simply want to get to know him better. If the Apollo sprout is important to you, he should be important to me, too,” Hades stated.

“He can’t eat food from the Underworld, y’know,” Nico added.

Hades glared at him, “Do you take me for a fool, Nico? I am well aware of that.”

“Of course, sorry,” Nico apologised, rolling his eyes, “I’ll have to discuss it with him. He- er- might be a little apprehensive about nipping down to the Underworld just for dinner.”

Hades nodded in understanding and if Nico didn’t know better, he would have said Hades almost looked hurt by his comment.

“I hear you’re going to visit his mortal mother,” he finally added after a moment of silence. Nico groaned again.

“Do you listen in to all of our conversations?” he asked, wondering exactly what his father had overheard.

“No. Just that one. I was planning to pay you a visit but noticed you were preoccupied,” he said. Nico flushed and tried not to think about what Hades had overheard or accidentally observed.

“I don’t know if I’m going to visit her or not, though,” Nico explained, “I’m… nervous.”

“Naturally,” Hades nodded, “my own relationship with Demeter has not been ideal over the years since I married Persephone.”

Nico didn’t point out that there may well be a reason for that. He also didn’t point out that Hades was definitely not helping his nerves calm down.

“Right,” Nico stated, “any helpful advice or were you just here to interrogate me?”

“I just wanted to see that you were happy,” Hades said, “I know it isn’t easy being my son. You deserve a good life.”

Nico had had this sort of conversation with his father before. Last time, he’d thought to himself that there was no way he’d ever be truly happy. Now he felt as though his old self really had been wrong. Life felt pretty great for Nico right now.

“Thanks,” Nico said, allowing a genuine smile to cross his face, “you don’t need to worry. Will does make me pretty happy.”

It felt weird to say so to his dad but it was the truth.

“I can tell,” Hades smiled in response, “I think the Harpies are coming. I should probably let you get back to your cabin.”

Nico nodded and got to his feet again. Hades had already turned around and was walking away back into the darkness.

“Dad,” Nico blurted out on impulse, before his father walked away. Hades turned around in shock. It was the first time Nico had referred to him as anything other than ‘father’ or ‘Hades’. “Thank you for checking up on me,” Nico finished.

Hades looked at him and gave a warm smile, something that looked so foreign on his usually cold and stern face.

With that, Hades vanished into the darkness and Nico was left alone again to clamber back up to his cabin before the cleaning Harpies swooped in to eat him for their dinner.

He’d made his mind up about what he was going to do- he was going to visit Will’s mom. Family was important, after all.

It was the last day of summer before Nico knew it and there was a very melancholic feel around Camp. Whilst some campers never went to school, instead staying on at Camp year-round like Nico planned on doing, there were an awful lot of people leaving for the year, some of them for good.

Percy and Annabeth were the first to say goodbye to Nico.

“We’re going to go to college in New Rome,” Annabeth explained to Nico when they caught him wandering past the big house, “but Percy needs to pass his SATs first.”

“It’s going to be a painful year of studying,” Percy added with a grin. Nico huffed a laugh. He couldn’t remember what going to school was like but from what he’d heard, studying was not a fun activity.

“Yeah, I don’t envy you,” Nico said. Percy shrugged.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be back to visit soon. Probably sooner than I want knowing how things tend to go at this place. I don’t doubt that gods will have some new problem that needs fixing soon,” he added.

“Don’t you miss the days when you were told not to go on a quest and snuck your way onto it anyway?” Annabeth asked with a nostalgic sigh.

“I would gladly go back and smack my younger self. What was I thinking?” Percy laughed. Nico could sympathise with that.

“At least you didn’t go crazy and start raising dead spirits,” Nico pointed out. Percy laughed harder.

“True, true,” he said and before the three of them knew it, they were laughing about all the ridiculous trouble and near death experiences they’d had over the years.

Nico had never considered using humour as a coping mechanism considering laughing was something he rarely found himself doing, but as he found himself recounting tales with Percy and Annabeth, he realised the memories didn’t hold quite as much sting as they usually did. Nico absent-mindedly wondered if that had been partly Will’s influence on him.

“Remember the time I gatecrashed my own funeral?” Percy asked Annabeth. She burst into laughter again.

“I was about to go saying all this nice stuff about him and then he just wanders over like it was no big deal,” Annabeth said.

“Oh, Nico, what about that time you came over to my house on my birthday to tell me to take a swim in the Styx but got distracted by cake,” Percy reminded him.

“What was I thinking?” Nico asked with a laugh, “at least the cake was good.”

“Sally’s blue food is the best,” Annabeth agreed as Percy wrapped an arm around both her and Nico, squeezing them into a group hug. Nico reluctantly complied. He didn’t mind it anywhere near as much as he pretended to.

“I’m gonna miss you a lot, Nico. You’d better visit us in New Rome, too,” Percy said, “don’t pretend you don’t know me this time!”

Nico smiled sheepishly, “Yeah, sorry about that.”

“Hopefully this time you won’t be losing your memory,” Annabeth scolded as she gently smacked him on the arm.

“I never forgot you, Wise Girl,” Percy said fondly and Nico averted his eyes, already knowing what was about to happen. He scanned the inside of the Big House as he looked away, peering into the infirmary to see if he could spot Will. Will hadn’t said goodbye yet so Nico hoped he didn’t plan on leaving without doing so.

Percy and Annabeth didn’t kiss for long due to Nico’s presence which he was grateful for. He was also glad to notice that he didn’t feel any twinge of jealousy towards Annabeth at all anymore. Percy was just a normal guy to him now. A friend, even.

“I really am sorry for all the trouble I’ve caused you over the years,” Nico apologised. Percy shrugged.

“Don’t sweat it. I’ve caused you trouble, too. Besides, it’s what friends are for,” he grinned, using his knuckle to mess up Nico’s hair as Nico attempted to bat his hand away. Annabeth laughed.

“Look after everyone at Camp for us, Nico,” Annabeth smiled, “I trust you to make sure everything stays orderly.”

“As orderly as Camp Halfblood can get,” Nico pointed out as an appropriately timed fight broke out behind them on the volleyball court between an Ares and an Aphrodite kid.

“Don’t go breaking Will’s heart,” Percy added with a wink. Nico rolled his eyes and flushed red.

“Shut up,” he complained, “I will miss you guys, though. Camp will feel strange without you here.”

Percy and Annabeth smiled so widely at Nico’s admission that he almost regretted it. He regretted it even more when the two engulfed him in another huge hug.

“Goodbye till whenever we next see you, then,” Percy said. Nico nodded.

“Enjoy college,” he greeted. Annabeth smiled.

“Oh, he’s going to love it,” she smirked a little evilly. Nico chuckled and gave them one last wave as the two made their way over to the top of Halfblood Hill where they would undoubtedly be swamped with even more Campers wanting to say goodbye.

Camp really was going to be weird without Percy and Annabeth there. Nico had never really stayed without them there since the time he sent Percy off on the quest his sister died on. All of that felt like aeons ago to him, now.

“It doesn’t seem real, does it?” a familiar voice came from behind Nico. Will had snuck up on him and wrapped his arms around Nico’s waist which he’d usually complain about in such open view of all the camp but it was Will’s last day before he went home for a while and his arms were warm. It wasn’t because Nico actually liked when Will held him like this or anything.

“Percy and Annabeth have just always… been around,” Nico agreed, “I guess I can visit them but it just feels like they’re going away.”

“Jason and Piper are going to New Rome for the year, too, aren’t they?” Will asked. Nico nodded, hoping Will could feel the movement of his head against his chest.

“And you’re gonna be gone. Camp’s going to feel pretty lonely,” Nico pointed out. Will released his arms around Nico and grabbed his shoulders instead, turning him around to face him. His face didn’t look mad but Nico could sense a certain anger behind his eyes.

“That doesn’t give you an excuse to shadow travel off anywhere you like,” Will said, “you’d better still be here when I return each holiday.”

Nico rolled his eyes, “I know, I’ll stay here, I promise. I might go and visit Hazel once or twice but other than that-“

“Good,” Will interrupted him with a sigh of relief, “I think you have some visitors that want to talk to you, though.”

Nico turned around to see where Will was looking. Piper and Jason were stood at the other side of the Big House, observing the scene at a distance. Nico could already tell the two had been spying on them and sent a premature glare in their direction.

“Go on, I’ll wait here,” Will promised with a smirk. Nico nodded at him and made his way over to them.

“So,” Jason started, “this is it for a year.”

“Don’t say that,” Piper accused, “you can still come and visit us. Reyna, Hazel and Frank would want you to visit too.”

“I know,” Nico agreed, “I will do. I hope you both have a good year.”

“I’ll miss you, Nico. Stay safe at camp. We’re only an Iris message away,” Jason reminded him. Nico nodded and felt the beginnings of tears prickling his eyes. He quickly blinked them away but Piper was doing nothing to hide her tears.

“Aww, Neeks,” she sobbed and then threw her arms around him. Nico almost fell back from the impact but slowly embraced Piper back if slightly awkwardly.

“Don’t call me that,” Nico complained but there was no annoyance in his tone. Jason sniffed loudly and Nico glanced over Piper’s shoulder to notice that Jason too was getting teary-eyed. Nico lifted one of his arms and Jason took the invitation, enveloping Nico in a hug too.

As both Piper and Jason were taller than him, he found it difficult to breathe pretty quickly and had to stretch his neck to free his mouth.

“Guys, you’re kind of crushing me,” he spluttered. Jason and Piper released him immediately with apologies rolling off their tongues.

“We will really miss you,” Piper said.

“Yeah,” Jason added, “you’ve changed a lot in just the short space of time we’ve known you. I’m really glad.”

“Well, I think you know who to blame for that,” Nico smirked, throwing a look over his shoulder at where Will, as promised, was still standing.

“Take good care of him,” Piper said with a wink, “have you made up your mind yet?”

Nico took a deep breath in and nodded.

“I know what I need to do,” he said, “and Jason, Will may have helped me but you were the catalyst that set the reaction off. You accepted me when I felt like no one could and I- just- thank you,” Nico managed to stammer out.

Jason looked like he was going to cry again and before Nico knew it, he had been enveloped in yet another hug. Feeling left out, Piper joined in again, squeezing the two boys tightly.

“You really need to stop trying to kill me,” Nico gasped for breath, “There’s still plenty of monsters left to do that.”

Piper and Jason laughed as they relented their tight grip.

“Don’t die whilst we’re gone,” Piper instructed. Nico gave her a wry smile.

“I’ll try not to. Make sure Jason doesn’t get himself killed, too,” Nico said.

“I can look after myself!” Jason complained. Piper laughed and Nico gave a snort.

“Yeah, that’s what I’m worried about,” he said dryly. Jason rolled his eyes and pouted before taking Piper’s hand.

“We’d better go and say our goodbyes to Percy and Annabeth before we take off,” Jason said, “we’ll see you soon, Nico.”

Nico lifted a hand in a half-hearted wave.

“Yeah, I’ll see you.”

And with that, he departed and made his way back up the hill to Will. This was his next goodbye and he knew this one would be the hardest even if he’d only be spending a short time away. Luckily, he had until that evening. Whilst most campers left in the afternoon, Will’s mom worked a day shift at the hospital so could only pick him up later on in the day.

“You okay?” Will asked with a concerned look as Nico approached. Nico wiped away any stray tears that may have been remaining at the corner of his eyes.

“Yeah,” he lied, “just going to miss everyone.”

“Aw, you’re such a softy,” Will teased, hugging Nico from the side, “help me clear up in the infirmary before I leave? It needs to pass inspection.”

“You’re the one inspecting it, you nerd,” Nico complained with an eye roll. His complaints ended when Will pecked his cheek and grabbed his hand, pulling Nico inside the Big House.

As soon as they stepped inside, Will switched straight over into Doctor mode, something Nico was pretty used to by then.

“I need all the thermometers back in the tub on the second shelf up and bring me some latex gloves whilst you’re there- someone’s left medical waste on the table,” Will instructed. Nico nodded and turned around to go to the back before adding,

“Is that a shelf I can actually reach this time?” recalling an incident only a week or so ago.

Will raised his eyebrow in response as he turned around with stethoscopes in his hand.

“I doubt you’d complain much if it wasn’t,” he said pointedly. Nico blushed and muttered a quiet ‘Shut up’ before marching into the back.

Nico was pretty sure Will hadn’t been the last person in here because the boxes were a mess. Will was such a perfectionist when it came to organising the infirmary that Nico knew he’d probably need medical attention himself if he came in and saw the state it had been left in.

With a sigh, Nico shoved the thermometers in the box on the second shelf and started work sorting through the other boxes, attempting to return everything to their correct place.

Nico hadn’t remembered about bringing Will the gloves until a pair of hands tickled his waist and caused him to make an embarrassingly high pitched squeal, dropping the packs of gauze he was holding.

“Sorry,” Will chuckled quietly in Nico’s ear, sending a shiver down Nico’s spine, “what’s taking so long?”

Nico picked up the gauze and stood on his tiptoes to put it back in the box before turning around to face Will.

The son of Apollo was stood closer than Nico had realised and his hands were still hovering over Nico’s waist, ready to pull him even closer. Nico’s heart caught in his throat as he felt his breath catch. Will still had an uncanny knack of taking his breath away. It was very infuriating.

“It- mess- decided to sort it,” Nico said intelligently. If he’d been hoping to disguise from Will how much his sudden presence and closeness had affected him, he was doing a pretty lousy job.

“What?” Will asked, having not understood Nico, not surprisingly. Nico took a breath in and tried to remember how to compose comprehensible sentences as he looked up at Will’s blue eyes.

“Someone messed everything up. I was trying to sort it out again because I know you don’t like it disorganised,” Nico finally managed to say without sounding completely stupid.

Will looked down at Nico with a soft smile on his face. Nico was glad that it seemed he’d actually done the right thing.

“Thank you,” Will said quietly, leaning down so that his nose bumped Nico’s gently. Nico’s breath was taken away once again as Will’s hands tightened around his waist. He wondered if there was such thing as dying from spending too long too close to your boyfriend. Nico at least hoped his father would take pity and resurrect him if that did happen.

After what felt like way too long, Will finally tilted his head and captured Nico’s lips. Letting out a sigh, Nico reached up, wound a hand in Will’s hair and pulled the blond against him hungrily. Will was far too much of a tease and Nico wasn’t going to let him get away with it.

Will didn’t seem to be complaining as Nico kissed him back harder, though, instead letting his hands move from Nico’s waist to his back, one of them slipping underneath Nico’s black t-shirt and tracing the bare skin on his spine. Nico shivered at the touch, despite Will’s hands being as warm as always. Will was permanently warm. Nico suspected it was because he was Apollo’s son but he didn’t really care- he only cared about whether those hands were touching him.

Nico pulled back to take a breath for a second but Will had other ideas, chasing Nico’s mouth with his own and pressing their bodies together again. Nico felt his back touch the shelves behind him and he removed his hands from Will’s hair to place them on the shelves and push the two of them off. He hadn’t just spent all that time organising them for Will to ruin it, no matter what his tongue was doing as it slid into Nico’s mouth and elicited a gasp from him.

“Don’t ruin my tidying,” Nico murmured against Will’s lips.

“Nico, shut up and let me kiss you, I don’t care about the tidying,” Will muttered in response, not giving Nico a chance to respond further as he kissed Nico again, the hot press of his lips making Nico finally give in and decide that the shelves really didn’t matter all that much.

He allowed Will to push him back against them this time as the taller boy’s tongue returned to his mouth. Whilst Nico did like to be the one leading the kiss, drawing small noises out of Will and leaving him a blushing mess, he definitely was not about to complain if Will wanted to push him up against a wall and kiss him senseless.

“Nico,” Will moaned lightly, the sound of his name on Will’s lips causing blood to rush straight to Nico’s cheeks and possibly other places he was trying hard to ignore. Nico just pulled Will’s lips back to his.

The sudden sound of a horn caused Nico and Will to jump apart in shock, Nico’s head hitting against the shelf above him and Will’s nose bumping into his a little harder than anticipated.

“Ow,” Nico said, not entirely sure his mouth was capable of forming any more than a sound at that moment anyway.

“I guess it’s time for dinner,” Will said breathlessly, “I can’t believe I didn’t manage to clean the infirmary.”

Nico rolled his eyes at Will’s pout.

“Don’t blame me, I was trying to help. Besides, you’re the inspector so it doesn’t matter,” he shrugged. Will scoffed.

“It’s basic patient hygiene, di Angelo,” he said, sounding scandalised, “and don’t feign innocence, you were being too distracting.”

“I was literally just tidying a cupboard,” Nico pointed out.

“Exactly,” Will teased, draping an arm over Nico’s shoulder as they made their way out of the Big House and to the mess hall, “distracting.”

Nico blushed and rolled his eyes.

“Catch me after dinner- I don’t want to leave without saying goodbye,” Will ordered. Nico nodded in agreement.

“Me neither,” he said. Will gave his shoulder one last squeeze before releasing Nico and going over to the Apollo cabin, now consisting of only Kayla, Austin and Will.

Nico sat himself down at the Big Three table that was feeling even more vacant. Percy and Jason had both left, leaving Nico alone. He hated sitting alone to eat. He never would have admitted it to Percy and Jason but it did really help having them there when they’d first suggested the idea.

When Nico sat alone to eat, it brought back memories. Memories of buying Happy Meals in desperate attempts to speak to his sister. Memories of sitting trapped in a jar, surviving only off pomegranate seeds and thinking that no one was coming to save him- he would die alone.

They weren’t exactly memories Nico wanted to dwell on, especially now that his life was looking up for once, but the scars ran deep and no amount of happiness would ever truly dispel the nightmares and feelings of hopelessness that occasionally threatened to overcome Nico.

Absent-mindedly, Nico wondered if it would be at all possible for him to convince Chiron that he needed to sit with other people to stop his powers from playing up. Maybe Chiron would let him sit with Will if the son of Apollo played his ‘I’m a doctor’ card.

For a second, Nico was tempted to raise skeletons right there and then but thought better of it. Will would be leaving Camp in about an hour, anyway.

Distracted from his own memory with thoughts of Will, Nico happily bit into his pepperoni pizza.

Despite Will’s promise that he would say goodbye to Nico before he left, Nico spotted the son of Apollo leaving his cabin with a packed bag and heading in the direction of Halfblood Hill- not in the direction of the Hades cabin.

Luckily, Nico had been paying attention so muttering to himself in aggravation, Nico shrugged on his aviator jacket to guard against the cool evening breeze and stormed out of his cabin, not caring that the door slammed shut behind him.

Due to Will’s naturally larger strides (curse his long legs), Nico had to jog to catch up and finally reached him just as he arrived at the top of the hill.

“Going somewhere?” Nico asked pointedly. Will jumped at the sound of his voice.

“Ah, Nico!” he gasped, “uh, sorry, I was going to come and say goodbye but, well-“ Will broke off with a shrug and Nico raised an eyebrow at him. With a glance down the hill, he spotted a woman with curly brown hair, blue eyes as clear as Will’s. Her face was smattered with freckles and she wore a smile Nico would recognise anywhere. She was Naomi Solace- unmistakably Will’s mother.

“Oh,” Nico muttered, drawing his attention back to Will. He’d felt a hint of panic rise up inside him at the sight of Naomi accompanied with the disappointment that Will hadn’t intended to say goodbye to him. Nico was going to be spending a weekend with just her and Will way sooner than he was prepared for.

A thought suddenly hit Nico as to why Will hadn’t been going to say goodbye and it was completely and utterly Nico’s fault.

“Oh!” Nico repeated in realisation as he grabbed Will’s arms, “Will, I forgot to tell you- I made up my mind. I want to visit you at the weekend. I mean, if the offer still stands.”

Will’s eyes lit up immediately.

“Why didn’t you just say so, you idiot?” he asked and before Nico could even respond, Will dropped his bags and picked Nico up, spinning him round. Nico had to try hard not to shriek in shock as he grabbed Will’s shoulders to steady himself.

Still laughing, Will placed him back on the ground and hugged him.

“Of course the offer still stands,” Will promised, “do you want to meet my mom now? She’s heard a lot about you through Iris messages.”

Nico didn’t even think before he answered.

“Yeah, sure!” completely forgetting to panic. Will grinned and grabbed Nico’s hand, picking up his bags again and pulling Nico down the hill with him. They were through the magical Mist barrier before Nico knew it and he was faced with the most daunting task of his entire life. Talking to Will’s mother.

“Will!” Naomi Solace squealed as soon as the two demigods stumbled past the magical barrier. Nico didn’t even complain when Will released his hand so he could engulf his mother in a huge hug.

He was easily taller than her, resting his head on top of her’s as he hugged her. Nico guessed she was about the same height as he was.

“I’ve missed you so much,” she said, “you haven’t been overworking yourself, I hope. If you have a single blister on your hand from over-healing then I swear-“

Whatever Naomi Solace had intended to say next was forgotten as she pulled her son in for another hug. Nico couldn’t help but smile slightly as he observed the scene, despite the panic still rising inside him. At least Will would be in good hands away from camp; Nico doubted he needed to worry too much about Will overexerting himself.

Still, if there was a monster-

Nico shook the thought out of his head quickly. Will had always been fine in previous years. He was going to be fine now. His scent wasn’t as strong as Nico, Percy or Jason’s anyway- he wasn’t a son of the Big Three.

“Mom,” Will whined in complaint, pushing her away, “I’m fine, honestly.”

Despite his complaints, Nico knew how much Will had actually missed his mother. He never shut up about it.

Just then, Naomi happened to look up over Will’s shoulder and her eyes connected with Nico’s. He felt his heart rate immediately pick up in fear. She was going to hate him already.

“Will, I think there’s someone you might be forgetting to introduce me to,” Naomi said, raising an eyebrow at her son expectantly in a way Will so often did to Nico whenever he forgot to look after a wound or help out in the hospital. Nico was already starting to realise exactly why Apollo had been so taken with her. She had a lot of similarities to her son.

“Oh!” Will seemed to realise as his eyes shone. He grinned and walked over to Nico again, grabbing his hand and pulling him towards his mother. Nico allowed himself to be pulled and stood there in shock. “Mom, this is Nico.”

“So you’re the guy Will won’t shut up about when he Iris messages me,” Naomi Solace said with a sly smile. Nico felt his cheeks heat up. He was supposed to say something now.

“Um,” Nico started, “it’s nice to meet you. Will talks about you a lot, too.”

“Oh, does he?” Naomi Solace asked, turning to Will.

“Pfft, as if,” Will pretended but his mom just tackled him in another hug.

“You big softie,” she teased, “you do love your old mom after all.”

“Mom, stop, you’re embarrassing me in front of Nico,” Will complained, attempting to flatten his hair again when his mom released him. Nico fought the urge to run his fingers through it. Will’s mother was right there.

“It really is lovely to meet you, though, Nico. I’m really glad Will’s found someone as good to him as you,” Naomi turned to Nico again, still smiling.

“Good to me?” Will huffed. Nico elbowed him.

“Thank you, Miss Solace,” he said, “I do my best to keep him in check.”

“Please, just call me Naomi. Or mom if you want- anything’s fine by me!” Naomi said. Nico thought he would have felt a little bit awkward calling her ‘mom’ but it didn’t seem like she completely hated him so that was a good thing at least. “I don’t know how you manage- he really is a nightmare.”

“Trust me, I know,” Nico smirked, surprised at how easily he was managing to have a conversation. He hadn’t messed up. He could do this.

Will was apparently not as pleased with his achievement.

“Nico! Mom! I didn’t introduce you to each other so you could gang up against me,” he complained.

“You should have expected this, really,” Nico pointed out.

“Honestly, it’s like he doesn’t even know us,” Naomi shook her head in offense.

“Mom!” Will whined.

“Sorry, did you hear something, Nico?” she asked in a sly tone.

“Nothing at all,” Nico agreed with a shake of his head.

“I changed my mind, you’re uninvited this weekend,” Will huffed.

“You agreed to come?” Naomi asked suddenly, turning to Nico excitedly. Nico had never seen anyone look so glad at the news that he was going to be somewhere.

“Oh, um, I-I’d like to if you don’t mind,” Nico stuttered. Naomi grinned.

“Of course I don’t mind! The more the merrier. I’m sure you’ll help me wind up Will, too,” she said.

“I wouldn’t ever pass up the opportunity,” Nico promised. The tenseness of first meeting Naomi Solace was slowly easing away and he felt his shoulders relaxing. He wondered what he’d ever been so worried about. Naomi was lovely and she shone just as brightly as her son. Maybe Will hadn’t received his sunny disposition from his father, after all.

“Right, I’m leaving,” Will huffed, folding his arms stubbornly. Nico nudged him with his hip.

“So I really don’t get a goodbye?” he asked.

“Will, were you really about to leave without even saying goodbye to Nico?” Naomi asked in shock.

“I wasn- no- I just-“ Will stammered.

“Yes,” Nico interjected. Naomi looked at him sternly.

“It’s a good job your boyfriend actually cares about saying goodbye to you, then, isn’t it?” she pointed out. Nico’s cheeks flushed at the words. It felt weird for Will’s own mother to say that. Weird in a not entirely unpleasant way. “Go on, I’ll wait in the car and I promise I won’t look.”

“Mom!” Will protested, “that means you totally will.”

Naomi shrugged her shoulders and took Will’s bag, taking them back to her blue Honda.

“So I’ll see you this weekend,” Nico said after a moment’s silence. Will smiled at him.

“Thank you. I know this isn’t easy for you but you’ve already done such a good job just talking to her. She really likes you,” Will said.

“All I’ve done is insult you,” Nico muttered. Will laughed and put his hand on Nico’s upper arm.

“I know, but you’ve made an effort to find something in common with her and talk about it. You think you’re bad at talking to people but you just did a really good job of it,” he explained. Nico chewed his lower lip as he considered Will’s words. He hadn’t even been thinking about it like that.

“I suppose you’re right,” he conceded, “but I couldn’t have done it if you hadn’t been there.”

“I’ll always be here if you need me,” Will promised in a soft voice, pulling Nico even closer to him.

“Your mom is watching,” Nico reminded Will although he wasn’t really sure he minded, Will’s closeness sending a frenzy of incoherent thoughts scattering around his brain.

“I don’t care,” Will said, his breath dusting over Nico’s lips. Nico didn’t care either as he closed the distance between them, raising himself onto his tiptoes to plant a gentle kiss on Will’s lips.

Will pulled away way sooner than Nico would have liked but it was still enough to leave his head feeling fuzzy and his lips tingling with warmth.

“Goodbye,” Will said.

“Goodbye,” Nico repeated, releasing Will’s top from where he’d grabbed hold of it to kiss him. Will smiled softly as he trailed his hand along Nico’s arm, releasing it, before walking away towards where Naomi Solace was waiting for him in the car. Nico smiled and waved as he watched Will go before turning around and heading back through the magical border and up Halfblood Hill.

He only had to wait until weekend.

#solangelo #percy jackson #pjo #will solace #nico di angelo #willico #solangelo fanfic #my fanfic #fanfic #percy jackson fanfic #hoo #heroes of olympus #myriad of stars

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hamiltimebinches · 7 years ago

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George Washington x Sick! Reader: I’m here

A/n: I don’t know a lot about George Washington, so please forgive me if he is a bit out of character. Also, for this fic to work I made it so the reader wasn’t living with him while he was in New York (you know, during all the cabinet meetings and that stuff), she was living back at Mt. Vernon.

Timeline: Canon

Warnings: None

Words: 1,245

My dearest, it has been far too long since I have last seen you. I can’t wait to see you again my love. Luckily, it will not be too long now. For you see, after much consideration I have decided to step down from the presidency. I have given this young country forty-five years of my life and I feel it is time for me to step down from my role in this country. I would love to rest in this nation we’ve made with you.

Which brings me to my other reason for stepping down, my most important reason, is so I can be with you. All this time I have been serving this nation I have not had much to spend with you, which I deeply regret. Now with you falling ill I believe I must pick up the slack on my most important duty, my duty of taking care of you. Whether in sickness or health it is my job to care for you, and I fear that I have been failing you in that.

When my term is finally done I will allow the people to hear from me once more. To share with them my hard earned knowledge and to teach them how to move on, after all this nation will continue on when I’m gone. This nation will continue on when we are both gone, gone to the fields of rest.

I can’t wait to see you again, my love. I will be home soon, I promise.

Affectionately yours,

George Washington

I smiled as I read the letter over for what felt like the millionth time. I received the letter two weeks ago, it wouldn’t be long now. George’s term officially ended a few days ago and he would be heading home either very soon or is on his way right now. Hugging the letter to my chest, I thought about how wonderful it would be to see him again, to be wrapped in his arms again, to be able to kiss him, to spend all my time by his side, to-. My happy thoughts were interrupted as my body shook with a particularly terrible coughing fit.

I groaned as I fell back against the fluffy pillows. I was beginning to get beyond tired of this sickness. The doctors have no idea what’s causing it, but it hasn’t proved lethal, yet. At first I thought it to be a common cold, nothing that would last too long, a week at most. I don’t think that anymore. This is much worse than any cold I have had the displeasure of experiencing. My whole body aches, I have a terrible cough and sore throat, I had a high fever for a few days, and I’m terribly tired all the time. To top it all of the doctors have condemned me to bed, I am not allowed to leave it unless going to the bathroom.

Knowing George, he will agree with the doctors, since they obviously know best, and have me stay in bed. At least when he’s back he can provide company for me, maybe I could even convince him to read to me with that soothing voice of his. I was hoping to no longer be sick by time he returned, but at this rate I highly doubt I will be.

“Mrs. Washington? I have brought you some tea, maybe it will help sooth your sore throat.” A young maid said, peeking through the cracked open door. Sitting up, I smiled as I motioned for her to come in. “Thank you very much.” I said gratefully as she poured some of the steaming hot tea into a tea cup and handed it to me. “Of course.” She nodded as she placed the tray holding both the tea pot and another tea cup down on the bedside table.

The maid, to my disappointment, then turned around and walked away. “Wait, please don’t go! It’s so lonely without anyone here, I know you’re busy but at least stay with me for one cup of tea.” I called out after her. She turned back around with a smile. “I would love to, but I am afraid I am far too busy. I’m sorry, Mrs. Washington.” She apologized then silently slipped out of the room.

I sighed sadly, looking down at the hot liquid in my cup. I lightly blew on it before taking a sip, but I still managed to burn my tongue. A few minutes passed as I very slowly drank my tea, but gradually my throat started feeling a little better. My attention was stolen from my tea by a soft knock on the door.

“Come in!” I struggled to say, having to clear my throat to just barely get it out. In peeked a familiar handsome face with a familiar smile. “George!” I gasped, almost dropping my tea. He chuckled and crossed the room over to me. He sat down on the edge of the bed close to me and placed a hand gently on my cheek. “Hello again, my love. How are you feeling?”

“Better now that you are here with me, Dear. It has been oh so lonely here without you.” I said, placing my tea cup down on the tray so I could move freely to embrace my husband. I sighed contently as he wrapped his arms around me in a warm embrace, it’s been too long since I’ve last been held in his arms. “I’ve missed you so much, George.” I whispered, although I don’t know if he could hear me since his shirt muffled my words. “As I have you.” He whispered back, almost as quiet.

“You won’t ever be away for that long again, will you? Please, tell me you won’t.” I asked, but before he could reply he was cut off by me going into another coughing fit. George soothingly rubbed my back until my coughing subsided. When I opened my eyes once again I saw he was looking at me in concern.

“Are you okay?” He asked quietly, picking up my tea cup. “Yes, I’ll be fine.” I croaked, my throat was once again extremely scratchy. I thankfully took the cup from his hands, sipping at the now lukewarm liquid. “To answer your question from before, I promise I won’t ever leave you alone for that long again.”

A few hours later, George and I were both relaxing on our bed. He was reading Shakespeare to me as I rested on his shoulder. Even if the moment in the story was intense I had never felt so at ease. Soon enough, George’s reading brought me to a half asleep state. Against my will I yawned, stopping him mid sentence. “I see you’re feeling tired, why don’t we call it a night? I can always read to you again in the morning.” He murmured, placing a bookmark in the book before putting it on the bedside table.

I sleepily nodded and snuggled under the blankets, George doing the same beside me. I cuddled into his side and he wrapped his arm around my shoulders. “I love you so much.” I breathed, my heavy eyelids sliding shut. “With all my heart, I love you too.” Was the last thing I heard before I slipped into the world of dreams. Yet this time, I didn’t go to sleep lonely, I fell asleep next to the love of my life with a smile on my face.

#hamilton #hamilton imagine #hamilton imagines #hamilton x reader #hamilton one shot #george washington #george washington imagine #george washington imagines #george washington x reader #george washington one shot #george washington fanfiction #hamilton fanfiction

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mostthingskenobi · 7 years ago

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SIDIOUS AND SKYWALKER -- Chapter 3

SUMMARY: Luke is trying to come to terms with the horrible things Sidious showed him.

Hope people are enjoying this story... somehow... lol! I know it's a bit of a departure from my usual Obi-Wan.......But I need more dreamboat Luke Skywalker in my life right now......

CHAPTER 3

Luke didn’t move for a long time. He lay there, staring up at the cell ceiling, as his brain tried to make sense of everything he had just learned. His heart felt heavy, burdened by watching his father suffer. The shame Sidious had forced him to relive was nothing; the memories stung at first but after a little while their power over him dissipated. He wasn’t a boy any more; he had developed emotional distance and a mature perspective that had begun to serve him well. Revisiting his own sad past was difficult, but the memories were his; he wasn’t afraid of them because they belonged to him.

But his father…

What had transpired between Vader and Obi-Wan was something Luke could not understand. Ben had always seemed so kind and protective, often speaking of the Jedi path, of honor and duty. How could a man who had devoted his life to a higher power simply stand there and watch his friend burn to death? How could that gentle old man be the same Jedi who dismembered Anakin Skywalker?

Luke thought about how Obi-Wan had leaned down and picked up Anakin’s lightsaber, dragging the beautiful hilt out of the obsidian gravel as he turned his back on his ex apprentice.

Your father wanted you to have this when you were old enough.

Luke squeezed his eyes shut as the memory made his heart twist.

Had Obi-Wan told him the truth about anything? From a certain point of view.

Holding his father’s lightsaber for the first time had changed Luke. The weapon had felt alive, like the kyber crystal humming at its center was somehow tied to his heart. Luke had felt drawn to it, or maybe it was drawn to him. The hilt felt sacred, like some sort of holy relic. He could sense his father’s residual energy as he turned the lightsaber over in his hands.

I hate you!

Luke shook his head. He had to stop thinking in circles. The stimulants he’d been injected with were gradually starting to wear off but he was far too distracted to rest. He decided to try another approach. Luke pushed himself up, slowly stretching his stiff muscles. He winced and placed a hand on his back. The vibrospear wound was still healing. Though the medical droid had fused it shut to stop the bleeding, it was very sore. Luke sat cross-legged on the durasteel slab and leaned back against the wall. He took several deep breaths and gently stretched his neck. Meditation would help calm his mind. He centered himself and closed his eyes.

What if all this was a lie created by Sidious? he immediately thought. Why am I taking the word of a Sith over the word of a Jedi?

Luke shook his head again. You’re supposed to be meditating, remember? he chastised himself. He took another deep breath and tried again.

The dim running lights lining the cell floor suddenly went out, plunging the young Jedi into complete darkness. “Great,” he muttered sarcastically. The cell was freezing cold, he hadn’t eaten for days, and now he couldn’t see a thing. Use it to your advantage, idiot. Luke snorted to himself in the dark. “Good idea.”

He closed his eyes and tried to clear his thoughts. He reached out with his feelings and let the absence of light press in against him, wrapping around him like a cloak. For a moment Luke enjoyed lovely silence.

Ben lied to me about Vader. His internal conflict flared to life instantly. Neither he nor Yoda told me the truth. They let me fight Vader – hoped I would kill him – and never once thought I should know that he was my father.

Frustration got the better of Luke and he slammed his elbow into the wall behind him. Quieting his mind for meditation seemed nearly impossible; his emotions were far too complex to process all at once. He methodically rubbed his temples before pushing his fingers up into his hair, letting his palms rest over his eyes.

Who was the liar?

I must know.

He knew what he had to do.

Luke took another deep breath and exhaled slowly. He closed his eyes and let his feelings extend into the Force, reaching from his heart out into living energy that surrounded him. It did not take long for him to find what he was looking for.

Father.

Son.

Luke could sense that Vader had become very still on the other end of their bond. The Sith had not expected his son to reach out to him. Skywalker paused, realizing he wasn’t exactly sure what to ask.

I sensed a great disturbance in the Force, Vader said. You were in terrible pain earlier.

Yes. Luke swallowed thickly then soldiered on, his chest tight and nervous. There’s something I must ask you.

Vader did not respond but Luke could sense he was still listening.

The Emperor showed me something… something horrible.

The Sith remained silent.

A confrontation between you… and Obi-Wan Kenobi.

Luke felt Vader’s anger crackle across their connection, sending a chill up the young man’s spine. Skywalker wasn’t sure why but he was suddenly overwhelmed by his own feelings. His heart sank and he fought to breathe through the emotional swell. He felt so lost, so betrayed, so adrift. He knew Vader could sense all his feelings, but Luke was too tired and angry to care.

Is it true? He couldn’t keep his rage at bay any longer. Did Obi-Wan leave you for dead? Did he mutilate your body and then turn his back on you?

The Sith was surprise by his son’s fury, by his compassion. Terrible conflict battled inside Luke.

Is Obi-Wan the reason you’re in that horrible suit?

There was silence between them for a long time. When Vader responded he only spoke the truth.

Yes.

He could feel his son’s devastation.

Tears slipped down Luke’s cheeks. His mentor had betrayed him in so many ways. How could he ever trust any of his teachings now? And his poor father had suffered unfathomable anguish. How could a man ever turn back from such a traumatic ordeal?

Do not pity me, Vader said almost angrily. Pity and compassion leave you vulnerable.

Luke disagreed. In a moment of surprising clarity he realized that he pitied all of them – the Emperor, Vader, Obi-Wan. They were blind to each other’s pain and that made them compassionless and single-minded. It narrowed their view of the Force and prevented them from seeing the power of truth.

Vader was shocked by the boy’s quick recovery and emotional fortitude. For a single instant he was reminded of his wife.

The Sith quickly changed the subject. Is the Emperor aware of our connection?

I… I don’t know.

Vader wondered how much Skywalker had revealed during his interrogation. The Sith knew his position with his master was precarious at best. Sidious had forbidden him from being present during Luke’s questioning. The dark lord didn’t trust him.

You must rest, son. Clear your mind. The Emperor will come for you again soon.

Luke let their connection fall away. Knowing the truth didn’t make him feel better, but at least he could say there wasn’t hatred in his heart. He certainly felt disappointed, bitter, and heartbroken, but he was relieved to realize he did not hate anyone.

He bent his legs up and rested his forehead on his knees. Wrapping his arms around his abdomen he let the darkness envelop him, mindful of his breathing until he fell asleep.

END NOTES

NEXT CHAPTER: Round 2 with the dark lord... What will Sidious want from Luke this time?

READ IT ON AO3 - Kudos and Comments Welcome :-)

READ CHAPTER 1

READ CHAPTER 2

READ CHAPTER 3

READ CHAPTER 4

READ CHAPTER 5

READ CHAPTER 6

READ CHAPTER 7

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phantom-le6 · 4 years ago

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Episode Reviews - Star Trek: The Next Generation Season 1 (5 of 6)

Kicking off February 2021 in terms of episode reviews from Star Trek TNG, we have our penultimate round of reviews from the show’s first season. Long-time fans of the show will know what that means, so be sure to have your black arm-bands to hand as we move into yet more episodes from the final frontier…

Episode 20: Heart of Glory

Plot (as adapted from Wikipedia):

The Enterprise enters the neutral zone to investigate the distress call of a Talarian freighter. The freighter is badly damaged, and three life forms are detected aboard. An away team beams over and finds three Klingons; Korris, Konmel and Kunivas, the last of these three being wounded. The away team returns with them to the Enterprise before the freighter explodes. Kunivas is taken to sickbay and Korris meets with Captain Jean-Luc Picard. The Klingon explains that they were passengers when the freighter was attacked by a Ferengi ship; the Klingons took over the freighter to fend off and destroy the Ferengi ship, but the damage sustained left the freighter adrift and faltering. As Korris and Konmel are shown to quarters, they are surprised to see a fellow Klingon, Lt. Worf, serving as a Starfleet officer aboard the Enterprise.

Meanwhile, Kunivas' condition worsens; Korris, Konmel, and Worf are present when he dies. The three let out a fierce roar as per Klingon custom (Date later explains this is warning to the dead that a Klingon warrior is about to arrive). As they return to the Klingons' quarters, Konmel is disappointed that Kunivas was not killed by an enemy, leading Worf to question the nature of the attack on the freighter; Korris and Konmel quickly change the subject. Worf forces Korris to reveal the truth: the three had commandeered the freighter, in order to seek out a place they could live as true Klingons, and the damage to the freighter was a result of a battle with a Klingon ship. When the two are seen near the ship's battle bridge, hoping to steal the drive section and escape, they are placed in the brig.

The Enterprise is soon met by a Klingon battlecruiser, captained by Commander K'Nera, who demands the return of the fugitive Klingons. Knowing that Korris and Konmel will be tried and executed if they are returned, Worf argues instead for their exile to a hostile planet. K'Nera agrees with Worf’s position, but refuses out of duty to his orders. Korris and Konmel use parts secreted on their uniforms to assemble a disruptor pistol and escape from the brig; Konmel is killed as Korris takes over the Engineering deck. Picard and Worf race to Engineering, and Worf tries to reason with Korris, who is trying to commandeer the drive section of the Enterprise, threatening to destroy the warp core and take the Enterprise with him if refused. Korris attempts to persuade Worf to come with him and conquer the galaxy as a true Klingon, but Worf retorts that a true Klingon fights out of honor and loyalty, and that Korris has demonstrated neither. Korris is enraged, and Worf takes the opportunity to shoot him dead. K'Nera is told of the deaths of the fugitives, and Worf declares that they "died well" when asked of their manner of death. Worf agrees to consider an offer to serve aboard the Klingon battlecruiser after his service aboard the Enterprise is complete, but when communications with K'Nera are broken off, assures the bridge crew he was just being polite.

Review:

After Data and Geordi as the avatars of the differently abled and Picard for being a very effective captain, Worf is probably the next character down the main cast list that I really enjoy. Like Data, he’s very much an outsider among the crew, and he’s also the main ‘bad ass’ of the show. Much like the ‘Datalore’ episode was for Data, ‘Heart of Glory’ finally answers the question of why there is a Klingon in Starfleet. Adding that dimension, that Worf was taken in by human parents and raised by them akin to such characters as Mowgli from Kipling’s Jungle Book or the Edgar Rice Burroughs creation Tarzan really gives Worf some great character dept, as well as resonance with audience members who perhaps come from families that might be mixed in the sense of having an adopted child in the family.

We get a lot of Klingon elements established here that will underpin later episodes of this and other Trek shows, and overall it’s a very good episode. However, it’s not without the odd flaw here and there. The way the top-down shot on Worf is done during the second Klingon death cry looks stupid, the staggered zoom out being a choice I simply don’t see as being necessary or doing the shot any favours. The camera should have just stayed static on Worf and not zoomed at all, or at the very least only zoomed out a short distance very slowly in a gradual manner. Also, Worf routinely comes off as the better character out of himself and Tasha Yar in any situations where Yar is involved, which I think is writing on the wall for what is to come. However, throw in the interesting feature of the bridge crew seeing through Geordi’s visor with all the other good points, and flaws aside this episode is one of the best of the season. From me, it gets a score of 8 out of 10.

Episode 21: The Arsenal of Freedom

Plot (as adapted from Wikipedia):

The Enterprise has been sent to the Lorenze Cluster to search for the USS Drake after it vanished while surveying the planet Minos, which many years ago became wealthy by selling weapons. When the ship reaches the planet, they are met by a recorded video message advertising "The Arsenal of Freedom", which invites the crew to the surface. Commander William Riker, Lt. Commander Data and Lieutenant Tasha Yar beam down to the surface to investigate. Riker is met by Captain Rice of the Drake, but determines the captain is an imposter and feeds him false information. After further questions, the "captain" disappears, revealing a floating sentry probe, which fires a stasis field around Riker before Data and Yar can destroy it.

The Enterprise cannot beam Riker through the stasis field, so Captain Jean-Luc Picard and Doctor Beverly Crusher travel to the surface, and Lt. Geordi La Forge is left in command of the Enterprise. As Picard and Crusher attempt to free Riker, another sentry probe appears and fires on them. Picard and Crusher are separated from Data and Yar in the skirmish and fall into a pit, severely injuring Crusher. Meanwhile, Data and Yar discover that the second probe is more powerful than the first and requires their combined power to destroy it. While Picard tends to Crusher's injuries, Data manages to release Riker from the stasis field. Riker, Yar and Data are again attacked, with this new probe requiring even more phaser power to destroy it. Data deduces that each probe learns from the previous probes' experiences and adapts to become stronger, and that the next probe might be unbeatable.

Meanwhile, the Enterprise is fired upon by a cloaked attacker, with each subsequent attack stronger than the last, straining the ship's shields. Chief Engineer Lt. Logan goes to the bridge to demand that the Enterprise flee the planet and attempts to take command, as he outranks La Forge, but La Forge refuses, pointing out that Logan lacks the authority to remove him, and orders him to return to Engineering. As the attacks continue, La Forge recalls Logan to the bridge and orders a saucer separation, leaving Logan in charge of the saucer. La Forge then takes command of the drive section from the battle bridge to return to Minos to rescue the away team.

Still underground, Picard discovers a computer terminal, which he activates, causing a hologram of the salesman to appear and explain they are witnessing a demonstration of an intelligent weapon system which is able to upgrade in response to any enemy threat. Picard surmises that the Minosians and the Drake were destroyed by the weapons. He unsuccessfully attempts to coerce the hologram to end the demonstration. Data is able to locate Picard, and determines that while the sentries could be set to destroy their own power source, the resulting explosion would probably take out the whole area, including the away-team. Picard finally tells the salesman he will buy the system, causing the salesman to disappear and the probes on the planet to shut down. Meanwhile, La Forge uses the planet's atmosphere to reveal the location of the space-born probe and destroys it. The away team returns to the star-drive section, where Picard insists La Forge stay in command until they rendezvous with the saucer section, remarking that he left him with the ship intact and would like it returned in the same condition.

Review:

This episode starts with a single plot that splits in two part-way along and recombines at the end. The moral lesson in the A-plot concerning the use of weapons rings a little hollow considering the kind of firepower the Enterprise tends to pack, not to mention the away team always firing away and never getting anywhere near a computer terminal to shut the whole thing down until the end. Throw in the lack of any apparent debate about such weapons, and it’s really just a snooze fest. Frankly, watching Geordi wrestle with the intricacies of command in a combat situation in the B-plot makes for far better viewing, and we not only get a better warrior in Worf than in Yar, but Troi is also well-used here in the B-plot. On balance, I’d give this episode around 5 out of 10.

Episode 22: Symbiosis

Plot (as adapted from Wikipedia):

The Enterprise attempts to rescue the freighter Sanction, which has been disabled by a star's magnetic field and is about to collide with a planet. An agreement is reached to transport over the crew of the freighter, but they surprisingly send over cargo barrels first. The Enterprise crew attempts to transport the freighter's crew, but is only successful in recovering four of them before their ship is destroyed. Two, T'Jon and Romas, are scruffy and unshaven, while the other two, Sobi and Langor, are groomed and well dressed. They all show relief that the barrels made it over, and little remorse for the lost ship and crewmen. Both groups start to fight over the ownership of the barrels using some form of electrical shock attack from their bodies and are escorted to the observation lounge under guard.

The two pairs come from different planets within the same system. It is explained that the barrels contain felicium, a medicine for a plague which is ravaging the planet Ornara. The medicine is produced on the planet Brekka, but the Ornarans are the only race in the system with the means of space travel; however, the two remaining Ornaran ships were all built long ago and are beginning to fail due to overuse and lack of maintenance, and the Ornarans no longer know how to repair them. Captain Jean-Luc Picard offers to return them each to Ornara and provide replacement parts for the remaining freighters. The Brekkans, Sobi and Langor, argue that they retain ownership of the felicium, as the items the Ornarans offered in payment were lost on board the freighter. T'Jon and Romas, of Ornara, are suffering from the effects of the plague, and are sent to sickbay where Dr Beverly Crusher can find no reason for their symptoms.

In a gesture of goodwill following a request from the Ornarans supported by Crusher, the Brekkans offer two doses of felicium for T'Jon and Romas's immediate needs. Langor explains that the entire Brekkan economy and industry is devoted to producing the medicine for Ornara, whose inhabitants provide Brekka with the necessities of daily life in return. After T'Jon and Romas take their doses, Dr. Crusher realizes that felicium is actually a highly addictive narcotic. Further research by the crew determines the plague itself was cured long before, so the symptoms believed to be attributed to the plague are actually withdrawal symptoms. Crusher wants to offer assistance to aid the Ornarans in breaking free of their addiction, but Picard warns that the Federation cannot intervene due to the Prime Directive. He and Dr Crusher later question the Brekkans alone and confirm that the Brekkans know the truth regarding the plague being eradicated, and the addictive nature of the medicine, and are consciously exploiting the Ornarans because Brekka's economy would collapse if the Ornarans no longer needed felicium.

The Enterprise arrives at Ornara, and Sobi and Langor have agreed to provide the felicium to the Ornarans for later payment. However, Picard announces that as the Prime Directive prevents him from interfering in the transactions between the two planets, it also prevents him from providing any replacement parts for the aging freighters. T'Jon and Romas are furious at the decision as it means that the trade between Ornara and Brekka will stop because the freighters can no longer make the trips without the parts. After the four are transported off the Enterprise, Picard confides to Dr Crusher that while the Ornarans may suffer from withdrawal symptoms in the short term, this will be an opportunity for both races to advance in their own ways.

Review:

To anyone who watches this episode and feels it was unsubtle in its anti-drug message, stop being such bloody idiots. Addiction in general, and drug addiction in particular, is a very serious problem, and sometimes even the Star Trek shows can’t hide its moral messages behind metaphor and cotton wool as it often does at its finest. Sometimes important issues like this need to come at the audience with the subtlety of a Bat’leth, and I don’t think this episode needed to be subtle, so that’s fine. However, I do feel the issue was perhaps mis-handled; I’ve seen the same concept of addiction dealt with far better by the West Wing than I have by this episode.

The keys issues with this episode are as follows. First, the guest aliens having energy discharges? Not necessary, and seeing Riker get caught out twice in as many episodes tends to make you question how he lived to reach his present rank of commander. Second, given that not all alien races will be at the apparent level of 24th century humanity from a moral or life quality stand-point, Dr Crusher looks criminally incompetent for not even suspecting withdrawal symptoms until after the Ornarans take the drug. Why does she persist in pursuing the story about a plague when she can’t find any trace of a viral or bacterial infection? Either Starfleet Medical is woefully negligent in its training of doctors, or Crusher has really lived a sheltered existence.

The episode also fails to explore the full nature of addiction; Yar’s conversation with Wesley answers some of it, but fails to point out key aspects like addiction being a mis-wire of the brain, and that anything can become addictive under the right circumstances. It’s not all about taking drugs to escape reality; gambling, sex and various other things can all become addictive, but there’s no mention of that here. Instead, we get into another debate on the Prime Directive, which in another episode might have worked. Here, it just gets in the way of the main issue. For this episode, I’m only awarding 3 out of 10.

Episode 23: Skin of Evil

Plot (as adapted from Wikipedia):

The Enterprise receives a distress signal from a shuttlecraft returning Deanna Troi from a conference. They find that the shuttle has crashed on a desolate planet, Vagra II, and while they can find the life signs of Troi and the pilot, Lt. Ben Prieto, they are unable to beam the two to the ship. An away team beams down and discovers an animated pool of a tar-like substance, a malevolent life form that calls itself Armus. When Lt. Yar attempts to approach the shuttle, Armus hurls her back with a psychokinetic blast, killing her instantly. The away team is brought back to the Enterprise but the damage to Yar is too great for Dr Crusher to repair, and they are unable to resuscitate her. A second away team is sent to the planet. Armus taunts the crew members and maintains his grasp of the shuttle. During this time, Troi has communicated with Armus and learned that it is a physical manifestation of evil from the bodies of an ancient race, abandoned on Vagra II.

The away team scans Armus' energy field, finding that when Armus engulfs the shuttle and speaks to Troi, forcing him to confront his anger at being abandoned, the field disrupting their transporter signals is weakened which could allow them to beam Troi and Prieto out of the shuttle. After Armus toys with Troi by completely engulfing Commander Riker, Captain Picard beams down to speak to Armus directly, sending the rest of the away team to the ship. Picard engages Armus in a heated discussion to discover its motive, which is to seek revenge on those that abandoned it on Vagra II. Armus is riled to a point where the energy field is dissipated enough, allowing for Picard, Troi and Prieto to be safely beamed back to the Enterprise, leaving Armus wailing in fury and alone once again. After destroying the shuttlecraft from orbit, Picard orders a quarantine on Vagra II.

As they leave Vagra II, the crew holds a memorial service for Lt. Yar, with a pre-recorded simulation of Yar addressing each of the senior crew members telling them what they meant to her and what she learned from each of them. After the service, Data, who had previously become close to Yar, tells Picard that he is confused as to the purpose of the service. He says that his thoughts are not for Tasha, but for himself, because he can only think of how empty his life will be without her. He asks if he has missed the point, but Picard assures him he got it.

Review:

The fact that a main member of TNG’s first season cast actually wanted to leave the show before that season had even been completed just goes to show that the cast wasn’t much more impressed than the audiences of the time. Actress Denise Crosby was right to ask for an exit, given how poorly her character was being handled by the writers on the show, because no one should have to act out a role that is being badly written on a regular and consistent basis. However, it would have been better still to kick out the writers responsible and get in those who could write all the roles better. The stupidity of the solution is almost as bad as football teams firing managers for the failures that are actually the fault of the team on the pitch. Credit where credit is due, blame where blame is due as I often say.

As if to prove my point, this episode handles Yar’s death badly. Granted, the scenes prior to Yar being attacked and Yar’s memorial are great for her, but the death itself was bad. She’s attacked with a telekinetic strike of some kind, but Dr Crusher claims she’s ‘had the life sucked out of her’. For that, you get an energy beam that shows clear syphoning of energy from victim to attacker, not a telekinetic hurling, and that should have caused Yar to show evidence of impact trauma. Instead, we get some random red blotch on her cheek, and that’s it. Combined with a villain who, as a concentration of all things negative, lacks sufficient depth or motivation to be a decent villain, and Yar’s death really does fall flat. Only the legacy of Yar’s death in the advancement of Worf, Data missing her and so on make this episode even remotely notable. Another 3 out of 10.

Episode 24: We’ll Always Have Paris

Plot (as adapted from Wikipedia):

The Enterprise, along with others in the sector, experience a localized time-distortion, and soon after receive a distress-call from Dr Paul Manheim in a nearby system. Captain Picard recalls that Manheim left Earth 15 years ago with a group of scientists to work on experiments around non-linear. They find the distress signal coming from a facility on a planetoid surrounded by a force-field. En route, Picard visits a holodeck recreation of a Paris café from his past, but leaves when confronted by a young woman who has been stood up by a young man. When the Enterprise makes contact with the facility that sent the distress signal, a woman requests help to save her husband, Dr Manheim, and lowers the shields.

The two are brought aboard and while Dr Crusher tends to Dr. Manheim, who is having convulsions, Picard discovers Manheim's wife is Jenice, his former love whose simulated younger self was the young woman on the holodeck. Jenice warns that her husband was working privately in his laboratory, but that she didn't know what he was working on. She also alerts the crew to numerous security protocols that he has installed at the facilities. As the crew prepares to send an away-team to investigate the laboratory, they experience more time distortions, described by Data as "Manheim effects". In one instance Picard, Riker and Data enter a turbolift only to see their past selves conversing outside of the lift. The crew find that they cannot complete a transporter beam to the facility due to the security measures in place there.

Dr Manheim recovers long enough to explain that he was doing experiments involving time, gravity, and portals to other dimensions, and suspects his last experiment is running out of control. Manheim explains that he is trapped between two dimensions and Data determines that the experiment must be shut down during a time fluctuation or else it will simply grow larger. Manheim provides the crew with the correct coordinates to beam down to avoid the security fields. Picard admits to Jenice that he was afraid he left her in Paris years ago, and vows to correct Dr Manheim's experiment.

As he is affected less by the distortions, Data is sent down alone and disables the remaining security measures before entering Manheim's laboratory. He finds a column of energy emanating from a dimensional matrix, the source of the time distortions. Data, though briefly affected by the time distortions, is able to add anti-matter to the matrix, causing the matrix to stabilize and halt the time distortions. Dr. Manheim fully recovers, and he and Jenice thank Picard and the crew for their help. Picard and Jenice use the holodeck to recreate their missed encounter at the Paris café, before she returns with her husband to the planet.

Review:

Looking at what Wikipedia cites about this episode in terms of what other reviewers have said, it’s clear many have missed the point. Forget for a second the weird time distortions and ensuing technobabble that accompanies them, because going by the episode title, that’s not the core of the story. The core of the story, the A-plot, is a character piece about Picard coming face to face with the woman he abandoned to carry on with his career in Starfleet. It’s a character piece with a Trek technobabble crisis-of-the-week worked in just to facilitate the encounter.

Because the episode is a Picard-centric character piece, it’s good because you’ve got Patrick Stewart taking up a lot of screen time, which is almost never a bad thing. That said, the fencing at the beginning and Picard having stood up his former love in Paris are a bit cliched, and I imagine some French audiences might be irked by them. I certainly would be if they’d shown Picard as a British captain who enjoyed boxing and abandoned his girlfriend in London. Why isn’t Picard interested in another variety of sport not native to France? Why the French capital and not Calais, Brest, Bordeaux, Toulouse or Marseilles? Why is it that anything made in the US can be so varied in showing off its own back yard, and yet so stereotypical any myopic about other cultures? Thankfully, I think this does improve later on. All in all, I’m inclined to give this episode 6 out of 10.

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theseviolentdelightss · 7 years ago

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Counting Paths V

Series Summary: After a lifetime on the run from the Empire, Reader makes a move that could have drastic impacts for both friend and foe. A Reader insert/fanfic. Gifs belong to their respective owners.

Word Count:2825

Author’s Note: Lots of expo in this one and it gets pretty dark. Fair warning. As always thanks so much for liking and rebloging. I’m so glad you’re all enjoying it.

Part I Part II Part III Part IV

It felt as if only minutes had passed since you closed your eyes when you suddenly awoke. The early morning glow filling the room; yet, failing to chase away the sense of dread that swelled inside your heart. It didn't matter how many times you had replayed that same awful memory over and over in your mind. It never ceased to leave you trembling like a child. Your breath ragged as you struggled to focus on anything else.

Years ago when you had first confided in Theodren of the horrid nightmares that infested your sleep every night he had suggested a rather simple solution.

“Where were you born?” He had asked, it struck you as an odd question at first and completely irrelevant yet you had answered.

“Coruscant.” You replied, the confusion clear in voice.

“And after that, where did you go?”

“Alderaan.”

“And after that?”

“Yavin 4.”

Slowly it dawned on you what Theodren was trying to achieve by asking you to name off the various planets and moons you had at one time called home. In doing so it kept your mind preoccupied, too busy to think of the dream that had left you shaken. Smiling weakly you had continued on until it had became a sort of mantra. Now as you sat, clothing clinging to your back with cold sweat, eyes shut tightly as you attempted to steady your shaky breaths you repeated the names again.

“Coruscant, Alderaan, Yavin 4, Corellia, Antar 4...”

You must have recited it a dozen times before your heart finally slowed to a moderately normal rhythm. No longer clambering against the inside of your chest like a hammer against cloth. At some point the sound of your voice must have woken Cassian.

From across the room he watched you from his own bed as you repeated the names quietly to yourself. Normally he would have been angry at someone for waking him. Particularly considering the small amount of sleep he had gotten over the last few days; even so, he couldn't force himself to tell you to be quite. To hush you and insist you go back to sleep. It was still early, even by the Alliance standards. Contrary to popular belief even rebels needed sleep; none the less, he remained silent. His eyes fixed on you. He had considered asking you if you were alright but decided against it. Knowing that some battles had to be fought on your own. Gradually you settled back into your bed, pulling the blanket tightly around you. Unaware that he had been the one to drape it over you as you slept the evening before. Not even Theodren stopping by had woken you.

Falling back asleep was a useless venture, not with so much on your mind.

The deposition was only a handful of hours away and you had yet to discover a way in which to explain what had transpired in the years since your supposed desertion. Telling them the truth, the whole truth felt right; yet it was one hell of a risk. They may banish you, or even worst have you killed. Refusing to believe the awful reality that you had lived through. That you in part blamed them for. It was hard not to be angry but it wouldn't do you any good. As much as you wish it weren't true you needed their help if you ever hoped to make things right.

To clean the red from your ledger.

Staring at the ceiling you searched your mind for an alternative. A way to explain your actions in the simplest terms. To show them that your intentions were nothing less than amicable. Hours passed with you lying there, questioning yourself as you always did in times such as these. Before you knew it you found yourself dressed and following Cassian into the dim light of the council room.

It was considerably larger than the one you remembered from Dantooine years before; nevertheless, it held the same stillness that sent the shivers running down your spine. All the same, you refused to let it show. Instead approaching your former superiors with your head held high as you pulled out the center most seat and settled into it. Glancing around at your surroundings.

“Intimate.” You began, running your hands across the smooth curves of the large circular table in front of you. “Lovely table and much more practical than the old council on Dantooine. I like it.”

“We're not here to discuss furniture.” General Draven stated matter of factually, as if you had honestly thought otherwise. Your sarcasm lost on him. Still, both Mon Mothma and Theodren allowed the slightest of smirks to grace their faces. Cassian however remained stoic, leaning against one of the rooms pale green illuminated dividers.

“That's a pity.” You continued, testing the waters.

“With all due respect we are here to discuss serious matters. I would appreciate it if you would stow the sarcasm Miss (Y/N L/N)” Mon Mothma began, causing the blood to drain from your face in a cold rush. It had been over a year since you had been referred to by your true name and for good reason.

“Please don't call me that.” This time there wasn't even the slightest hint of humor to your tone.

“It is your given name is it not?” Mon Mothma continued.

“It is.” You replied. “But I have done everything in my power to ensure the Empire that the owner of that name no longer exist. I'd like to keep it that way.”

“A bit paranoid don't you think?” General Draven added in the same callous tone as before.

“I prefer the term cautious.” You sneered, meeting the General's gaze. “I know well enough to fear the Empire and if you had an ounce of intelligence in that thick skull of yours you would too.”

“Perhaps we should begin with your last mission.” Mon Mothma interjected in an attempt to defuse the rising tension. “What transpired on Ryloth?”

In that moment it was as if everyone and everything had suddenly fallen silent. The hum of the various machines ceased. The shuffling of officers feet faded. It had all dissipated, leaving behind only the sound of your chest rising and falling uneasily. Ryloth was a memory you had much rather remain in the deep recesses of your mind. None the less, there was no way you were leaving this room without providing answers. Even if you had to adjust them slightly to fit your means.

“It was suppose to be a simple reconnaissance mission.” You sighed. “Small squad, only eight of us, probing. We weren't sent to engage, only evaluate. Access the level of the empire's occupation. There had been rumors that a number of the locals had been sabotaging their efforts. We were sent to determine rather or not those rumors were true and if so, could they be used to our advantage.”

You could feel all of their eyes glued on you as your words trailed off. Brown eyes, blue eyes, green eyes, all watching you with the same deep curiosity. Eager to hear your story unfold. Still, you couldn't bring yourself to look at any of them. Instead choosing to stare blankly ahead as the memory played out like a film in your mind. It had been years yet you could still smell the smoke in the air. Could feel the humidity clinging to every bit of exposed skin. The metallic taste of blood in your mouth.

“What followed?” Mothma inquired, her voice calm yet with a hint of sympathy.

“They knew we were coming.” You continued. “From the moment we sat foot on the surface we were doomed. Out numbered, out gunned, by the time we realized they were onto us we were already surrounded...we didn't stand a chance.”

A thick lump began to form in your throat but you forced it down. Hoping to instead view the memory in your mind as a work of fiction rather than the horrible truth of it. If only it were that easy. Beneath the table your hands began to tremble in your lap even as your grasped them tightly together.

“Most died fighting. Some though, when they realized it was hopeless...chose another route.”

“Lullabies.” Theodren spoke softly, his voice nearer to you than any of the others. Simply nodding you kept your eyes downcast. Praying that the images flashing in front of your eyes would stop. The way their bodies had convulsed from the quick effects of the rebellion issued suicide pills. The foam seeping from the corners of their mouths as they lay on the wet ground. The stillness that followed.

“Can you recall whom?” General Draven inquired, the audacity of it causing your eyes to snap in his direction with another icy glare.

“Why should it matter?” You practically growled. “They gave their lives for the Rebellion. The manner of their death is none of your concern. They did their duty.”

“And yet you did not.” The gruff General continued, returning your harden stare. However, this time you weren't alone in your anger. From out of the corner of your eye you could see Theodren's hands ball into fist as his eyes darted the man that stood opposite him.

“I bled in the mud for this Rebellion.” Each word escaped your lips like ice. “I would have gladly given my life along with the others but that choice was taken from me.”

“By what?” Theodren asked, the concern in his voice offering you some small comfort.

“By the same blaster that gave me this.” Pulling aside the collar of your dark brown shirt revealed a fist sized scar beneath your collar bone. “It was destroyed along with my transponder. Before I could even raise my blaster to my temple they were on me.”

The four of them shared glances among each other as you straightened out your shirt and attempted to still your rising nerves. It was folly. Not once had you spoken to anyone about what had happened on Ryloth. Just the mention of it had awakened all of those terrible memories you had struggled to bury deep. Only to have them now exhumed at your expense.

“I fought...and I lost.”

The expression on Draven's face slowly faded. Replaced with a semblance of guilt; yet, yours remained unaltered. Still cold and just as unwavering as the pain in your eyes. It felt as if years passed within the silence. Deep down you knew that your hatred wasn't truly directed at the General to your right but you couldn't keep it from bubbling up inside. He had simply been foolish enough to push your buttons on a very touchy subject. Gradually you turned your attention to the others, all of whom remained transfixed on you.

“They took you captive?” Mon Mothma spoke, at last breaking the quiet that hung pregnant in the air. The only response you could manage was a nod. “Where?”

“The Spire.” You muttered, glancing down at your hands as they continued to tremble.

It was so unlike you. For years you had prided yourself on remaining cool and collective regardless of the situation but now you felt yourself unraveling. Closing your eyes tightly you hoped they wouldn't press you further though you knew they surely would. The tension in the air was so thick it felt tangible. Perhaps it was best to get out ahead of their inquiries. To answer their questions before they had even been asked. It would at least allow you to control the direction of the narrative.

“They starved me, beat me, tortured me for days on end.” Your voice was little more than a whisper. The memories flooding back all at once. The shivers running along your shoulder blades now in double time. “They wanted information that I would not give. I thought they would eventually grow tired and kill me, but that would have been a mercy. There is none of that in the Empire.”

“How is it you managed to survive?” Theodren asked, his blue eyes filled with despair at the thought of the horrors you had faced.

“By doing the last thing they expected. I defected. I convinced them that they had broken me, molded me into something that could be of use. I lied right to their hostile faces and they were foolish enough to believe me.”

Of everything you had intended on telling them, this truth was the one you were the most concerned with. Surely, it had occurred to them. How else would you have managed to stay alive so long? None the less, it would undoubtedly raise questions as to where your loyalties lie. Though you had yet to look his way you could feel Cassian's eyes boring holes through you. Knowing that if this was all some elaborate ruse to reveal the Rebel's location the fault would lie with him.

He had brought you here after all.

“I played the part of woman who had come to see the error of her ways. I did everything in my power to make them believe that I had truly denounced the cause I had been ready to give my life for.” The steadiness returned to your voice as you spoke. The trembling in your hands beginning to subside. “All the while I collected every bit of information I could, troop movements, covert operations, anything that I thought could be of use to the rebellion. As soon as the opportunity to escape finally arose I seized it.”

“How?” Mothma questioned, no longer able to keep her face void of emotions.

“They had sent me to a small outpost on Arkanis. I was meant to retrieve sensitive information regarding one of the Emperors boldest moves yet. It's the very reason I am sitting before you today. As soon as the data files were handed over....” You couldn't help your voice from trailing off again. The memory of what came next still haunted you regardless of how many times you assured yourself that is was a necessary evil.

She had been so young, and far too trusting, but for your death to be believable a sacrifice had to be made. You could still feel the sensation of your fingers lacing together around her throat, the slowing of her pulse beneath your fingers, the weight of her limp form as you carried her to her end.

“I over powered a young female Imperial recruit, placed her inside my ship along with my tansponder, set the auto pilot, and waited.”

“Waited for what?” Mothma continued. You couldn't bare to bring yourself to look at Theodren. Of all the things you had done during your time as a captive for the Empire this one had stuck with you.

“The fire, the explosion in the sky.” You again struggled to keep your voice steady. “I had placed a small bomb on board. Designed it to appear as a critical mechanical failure. I needed to insure that the Empire wouldn't ask questions.”

The shock that passed between the four of them was nearly electric. As if you had formed a chain and sent a current flowing down the line. That feeling of static clinging to freshly washed clothing.

“You killed her?” Even Draven appeared uneasy at the callousness of your actions. Not that he, or any other Rebel would have hesitated to lay waste to any number of Imperial officers if it meant gaining back their own freedom. Still, you doubted that they had expected your story to turn quiet so dark.

“Yes.” You stated simply, no longer afraid to look the others in the eye “I needed a living body on board at the time of detonation and I needed it to be destroyed beyond any semblance of recognition.”

Now that you had finally allowed yourself a glance between all four of them you found the same vacant look on each of their faces. All of them unsure of what to make of your actions. You knew they were in no place to scorn you; none the less, the uneasiness rising up inside them had reached the surface. The same eyes that had looked at you with pity only minutes before had become something else entirely. The guilt of your actions might have burned like a fever inside of you but you hadn't allowed it to show. The Rebellion had taught you how to kill and the Empire had turned you into a killer.

“She was not the first life I took for the sake of the Rebellion.” You continued, the nervousness from before entirely absent in your voice. Instead replaced with cold certainty. “And I doubt she will be the last.”

#cassian andor x reader #cassian andor imagine #rogue one reader insert #cassian x reader #rogue one fanfic #cassian imagine #Counting Paths

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walterfrodriguez · 4 years ago

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Submerged in securities: Many CMBS hospitality loans may be underwater soon

Hotel operators trek into special servicing and it may take years before they get out (iStock)

Carlos Rodriguez Sr. set off from Costa Rica nearly 25 years ago for what seemed like a surefire bet: developing and operating hotels in Florida, where both tourism and business travel were in perpetual demand due to the area’s warm weather, white sand beaches and proximity to Latin America.

Carlos Rodriguez Sr., Driftwood Capital and Driftwood Hospitality Management

Rodriguez, who oversees the hotel investment and management companies Driftwood Capital and Driftwood Hospitality Management — which have a combined portfolio pegged at about $3 billion — steadily grew his businesses around the country over the years by acquiring 21 and managing 70 hotels.

“We are losing money hand over fist. We lost millions of dollars.”

Carlos Rodriguez Sr., Driftwood Capital

But as the pandemic drove U.S. occupancy levels to near record lows in recent months, Rodriguez said his company has stopped paying dividends to investors and believes he will just break even by the end of 2021.

“We are losing money hand over fist. We lost millions of dollars,” he told The Real Deal. “We are in a position to withstand it, but it’s a painful hit.”

The hotel industry has since seen a gradual uptick in occupancy levels in recent weeks. And Rodriguez said his companies are still well capitalized, noting that he recently raised $250 million from investors for new hotel deals and that he’s also looking to acquire distressed assets.

But the country’s hotel industry, as a whole, continues to take a beating. For Driftwood and other operators, Covid-19 and the country’s growing economic uncertainty have weighed heavily on revenues. In addition to the high costs of running a hotel, paying staffers and making sure all property taxes are covered, keeping up with regular debt payments has become equally concerning.

In particular, hotel and retail owners are scratching their heads to figure out how to best manage debt payments on commercial mortgage-backed securities.

What was seen as a cheap and easy way to secure non-recourse financing just a few years ago now faces a reckoning as hotel borrowers are exposed to more than $85 billion in outstanding CMBS debt, the research firm Trepp reported in March.

The complicated structure of these loans, which are pooled together and sold to investors in so-called tranches, has left some borrowers struggling to make ends meet. The delinquency rate for all CMBS loans jumped to 7.2 percent last month from 2.3 percent in April, the largest spike in delinquencies since 2009, data from Trepp shows.

And unlike conventional loans from a bank that can be reworked and restructured, CMBS loans have to go through a sometimes lengthy process through a third party entity known as a special servicer in order to be modified. Already, $32 billion of loans on commercial properties were in special servicing as of May, according to Moody’s Investors Service.

Insiders say the fraught servicing process could leave some borrowers in a blackhole — with high debt installments and additional fees that could take months, and in some cases, years to pay off — before they are able to regain control of their properties.

Debra Morgan, BlackEagle Real Estate Partners

“If you are asking for a material modification to the loan, it might take six months to receive approval, or it might take much longer,” said Debra Morgan of BlackEagle Real Estate Partners, a commercial real estate firm that works with CMBS investors and servicers. “Servicers have stakeholders to answer to and extensive contracts and procedures to follow.”

Swamped servicers

Rodriguez said part of his issue with navigating the CMBS market is simply getting someone who’s working on the loan to pick up the phone.

“First issue here is getting someone to answer your request,” Rodriguez said. He added that special servicers are not adequately staffed “to handle the flood of people requesting forbearance.”

The country’s largest special servicer, Midland Loan Services, managed a portfolio of $177.7 billion in CMBS loans at the start of last year with a staff of just 26 employees, according to figures from S&P Global Ratings. Rialto Capital Advisors, the country’s second-largest CMBS servicer, meanwhile, had a staff of 56 as of mid-2018. That was roughly half the number the firm had at the end of 2014.

Ann Hambly, 1st Service Solutions

Servicers “are going to get overwhelmed very quickly,” said Ann Hambly, CEO of Texas-based 1st Service Solutions, which provides advisory services for CMBS borrowers.

Not only are many of them swamped with calls, but unlike lenders who have a fiduciary duty to work with borrowers, CMBS special servicers are only obligated to help the bondholders and mitigate losses. This structure can lead to servicers to take in more fees the longer the loan is in special servicing.

“They make money the longer you are in there,” Hambly said. “They are not incentivized to do a quick resolution.”

The inherent nature of CMBS presents risks to borrowers, according to several industry sources. In some cases, for example, special servicers will reduce commercial rents to lower costs rather than to make actual upgrades to the property or the building.

“To reduce servicing advances, servicers may exchange rent or offer lease concessions in lieu of funding significant tenant improvements for office and retail,” said Morgan of BlackEagle Real Estate Partners.

The rules for securitized commercial mortgages are also problematic for some borrowers at a time when the federal government is releasing loan programs to help businesses during the pandemic.

For one, CMBS borrowers can not take on any additional unsecured debt, which could include loans under the federal Paycheck Protection Program. This means that a special servicer could potentially take over property with CMBS debt for accepting a PPP loan if it does not first get approval from the servicer.

“It would be a further indebtedness, and it could open up to bad boy carve-outs,” said Lee Mackson, a creditors’ rights attorney with Shutts & Bowen in Miami in reference to certain loan provisions, which, if violated, allows the loan to become recourse against the borrower.

Suzanne Amaducci-Adams, a partner at the law firm Bilzin Sumberg in Miami who represents special servicers and CMBS borrowers, said “CMBS loans specifically prohibit additional secured debt.”

“So any new loan that has security is going to be problematic because you will have two creditors fighting over the same collateral if there is a loan default,” said Amaducci-Adams

High exposure

The CMBS market exploded in popularity in 2007 as U.S. property values rose to all-time highs, but the market came to a near halt during the great financial crisis.

“I think the New York [hotel market] is going to take four to six years to recover.”

Andrew Broad, Avison Young

Lenders, borrowers and investors eventually returned to the space after the recession as property values recovered and borrowers sought out the CMBS market since the loans were offered at lower rates and oftentimes easier to obtain than traditional bank financing.

CMBS deals are typically bundled together in pools of mortgages backing one or more commercial properties. The mortgages are then transferred to a trust which sells the mortgages to investors as bonds. The bonds are sliced into different asset classes based on their credit risk — the lower the class, the greater the risk for investors.

During good times, this agreement with the bondholders is generally not a concern for CMBS bondholders as long as the borrower makes regular payments. But experts now project a wave of defaults, and many properties backed by CMBS debt could be taken over by loan servicers.

For example, a growing number of retailers are in dire straits as Neiman Marcus, JCPenney, J. Crew and other major stores file for bankruptcy. At the same time, the retail industry lost 2.1 million jobs in April before seeing some much-needed gains in May, according to the U.S. Bureau of Labor Statistics.

Hotels are perhaps in even worse shape. Nationwide, hotel occupancy stood at just 36.6 percent for the week ending May 30, according to the industry data firm STR.

Andrew Broad and Rick George, Avison Young

And occupancy could be much worse since these numbers do not account for hotels that have shut down due to Covid-19, and many hotels may be underreporting, according to Andrew Broad and Rick George, hospitality brokers at Avison Young.

They estimated that there are 4,500 U.S. hotel assets backed by CMBS debt and the average annual operating loss on a 120-key limited service hotel will be $500,000. The brokers also projected that it will take the average hotel one year just to break even.

“I think the New York [hotel market] is going to take four to six years to recover,” said Broad.

No love from the Fed?

Industry groups and some private equity firms like Tom Barrack’s Colony Capital have been advocating for more relief from the government to asset backed securities as the group faces a $3.2 billion default on its hotel portfolio.

But in late March, the Federal Reserve said it would only guarantee relief for Triple A CMBS securities — the highest tier for investors — through its Term Asset-Backed Securities Loan Facility (the central bank launched the stimulus program in November 2008 to help spur lending to small business and consumers)

The Fed also excluded single-asset, single-borrower CMBS transactions from TALF, which account for nearly half of all CMBS issuance in 2019, a figure pegged at $98 billion, according to the Commercial Real Estate Finance Council.

Lisa Pendergast, CREFC

Lisa Pendergast, CREFC’s executive director, said the lack of backing from the Fed will cause mortgage rates to increase on new loans, making the availability of financing for borrowers more scarce.

“Conservative or not, you can’t underwrite assets with no current income and little insight as to what that income will look like once it does materialize,” she said.

One single-asset, single-borrower deal includes a nearly $1 billion CMBS loan backed by the hotel where James Bond first met Auric Goldfinger in the movie Goldfinger, the Fontainebleau Miami Beach. The property’s loan went into special servicing in late March and the development group led by Jeff Soffer is asking its servicer for forbearance on payments due to cash flow concerns, according to Trepp.

Brett Mufson, Fontainebleau Development

Brett Mufson, president of Fontainebleau Development in Miami, stressed that the property has not defaulted on any of its payments.

“We view all our lenders as partners and now more than ever it’s important to work hand-in-hand to ensure a smooth transition back to normalcy,” Mufson told TRD.

History repeats

Borrower and lender attitudes could dampen going forward, due to rising fees and the cumbersome process of reworking CMBS loans, sources say.

It could be especially difficult for smaller hotel owners to get financing in markets where there are fewer lending options.

Sam Chandan, NYU

“If a CMBS lender is not active in a particular market, that can have a significant impact on liquidity,” said Sam Chandan, an economist and dean of NYU’s Schack Institute of Real Estate.

During the last financial crisis, CMBS issuance fell from $229 billion in 2007 to just $3 billion in 2009, Chandan noted in a 2012 research report. Issuance later rose to more than $97 billion in 2019, according to Trepp.

Given the broader economic impacts of the pandemic, hotel and retail borrowers may feel the process is too difficult and turn to other sources of financing, said Hambly of 1st Service Solutions, though in some cases it’s cyclical.

During the last recession, many borrowers said they will never return the CMBS market, which bounced back within a few years, she noted.

“We saw it in the 2008 downturn when people said I am never doing that again,” Hambly said. “It’s almost like childbirth [where] every woman says I am never going to do that again. You kind of forget the pain.”

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poop4u · 5 years ago

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How to Help a Scared Dog

#poop4u #dogs

The post How to Help a Scared Dog by Jill Breitner appeared first on Dogster. Copying over entire articles infringes on copyright laws. You may not be aware of it, but all of these articles were assigned, contracted and paid for, so they aren't considered public domain. However, we appreciate that you like the article and would love it if you continued sharing just the first paragraph of an article, then linking out to the rest of the piece on Dogster.com.

Living with a fearful dog can be challenging for us, but imagine what it’s like for our dogs. Fearful dogs are often misunderstood because they may present with undesirable behaviors, often dubbed “bad behaviors,” such as being stubborn, running and hiding, barking, snarling, growling, lunging and even outright aggression. These misunderstood behavioral displays do not make a dog bad. These behaviors are most often a manifestation of fear or anxiety.

Left untreated, these behavioral displays can become habit or a way of being, leaving dogs unable to cope with the things they fear. Dogs are captive animals living in our human-dominated world. Although they have adapted quite well, they are not free from the stresses caused by living in a human environment.

What does fear look like?

Treating fearful dogs is a welfare issue, as well. Behavioral problems are the No. 1 reason that people relinquish their dogs to shelters. They don’t realize that fear is an emotion, not a behavior. Understanding the emotional state of dogs goes a long way to mitigating the massive numbers of dogs in shelters today.

The expression of fear ranges from obvious to extremely subtle. Look at these signs:

rounded body

tucked tail

whale eye

body and facial tension

panting

yawning

ears back

dilated pupils

tongue flicking

If your dog is showing these signs of fear, it’s time to begin a treatment plan to help alleviate that fear. These dogs are not “bad,” they are merely expressing some level of stress. Becoming fluent in dog talk is key to understanding and helping a fearful dog become less fearful.

Use this helpful chart when looking for signs of fear in your dog. Photography by : ©Denise O’Moore | Mighty Dog Graphics

What causes fear?

Some dogs are afraid of other dogs or people, some lacked proper socialization as a puppy during the critical fear period the first 14 weeks of life, while others inherit fearful behaviors from their fearful mother or are genetically predisposed. Other dogs are afraid of different types of surfaces or doorways, noises, and yet others can become fearful because they were punished during training.

Another often overlooked cause of fear is unrecognized pain. Always get veterinary clearance before any kind of behavior modification is offered for a fear-related behavior.

A foundation of trust

We can help dogs feel safe by recognizing the signs of fear or anxiety and then becoming someone they trust. Trust happens when we create an environment that makes them feel safe. As dogs’ advocates and guardians, it’s our duty to be trustworthy.

Learning to see the world from a dog’s perspective helps us be that trusted person. They need a benevolent leader, one who is understanding, compassionate, kind, patient and fluent in dog. They need our undivided attention and know who we are before we can truly help a fearful dog.

Adopting a calm demeanor with a gentle, kind tone of voice, while reassuring and consoling them, allows them to assess and experience their world at their own pace. Fear is an emotion, and we can’t reinforce emotions, only behaviors.

Since fear is an emotion, not a behavior, we know that when dogs are in an emotional state of fear or anxiety, they are incapable of learning. They literally lose the ability to process information, therefore trying to train them while they’re afraid is impossible.

Think about this. If you are afraid of snakes, as I am, it would be impossible to concentrate with even just one snake slithering around you. You couldn’t think of anything else but how to get out of there as quickly as possible.

Dogs are no different. If they are afraid of other dogs and are on leash, unable to get away, even if the dog means no harm, they will not be able to relax until they are far enough away from the dog. At this point, and only at this point, will you be able to start a training program to help alleviate their fear of dogs. While in a state of flight or fight, no learning is possible.

How to help

The techniques we choose to help dogs move through their fears are desensitization or classical counter-conditioning. Never use flooding or punishment, or worse, ignore them, thinking they’ll just get over it. They won’t!

Desensitization is a technique whereby we gradually and systematically expose a dog to something that scares him, starting at a very low level, so we don’t incite the fear. Gradually, over time, we may increase the level of intensity, paying attention to the dog’s emotional state via his body language, keeping him comfortable before moving on to the next level. (Zoologist and Certified Applied Animal Behaviorist, Emeritus, Patricia McConnell, PhD, has a detailed book, The Cautious Canine, that explains this in even more detail.)

We all remember Pavlov’s dog, where the dog salivated every time he heard the bell, anticipating food. This is classical conditioning. We, too, can change the association from fear to comfort by using classical counter-conditioning. By pairing something that the dog is afraid of with something he loves — like his favorite food, toy or game — we can help him overcome his fears. This may take days, months or even years depending on the severity of his fear. The goal being that the dog has a positive emotional response to the fear because he knows that something good is going to happen.

For example, I have a dog who was traumatized in a car before I got him. He was brought to me in the back of a U-Haul truck, filled with household furniture, rattling around his crate in the dark with no food or water for two days straight. He wasn’t carsick, he was traumatized at the sight of a car. He began to shake uncontrollably, pant, whimper and drool all over himself and the car. I used a combination of desensitization and classical counter-conditioning to help him overcome his fear.

Using a high-value treat that I knew he loved (cut up pieces of hot dogs), I made a trail of treats, leading up to and around the car. I didn’t ask him to get in, only had him associate the car with food. Slowly over time, he walked around the car without needing food.

Next step, I opened the car door and got his favorite toy, a ball for fetching. We played fetch around the car. Over a few days of no anxiety around the car, I opened the door and threw pieces of hot dogs in the car. He jumped right in to get the treats. I didn’t do anything else. I let him jump out if he wanted to. I threw treats back in, and he got in three or four times. That’s all I asked for that day.

I repeated this for a few days and the next time, I shut the door and sat inside with him, feeding him treats. This went on for another few days. At every juncture, I paid attention to his body language, making sure there were no signs of fear. If so, we went back to the previous step until he was comfortable again, progressing on his terms.

I increased the amount of time in the car and then started the engine for one minute, increasing the time the engine ran, by minutes. When he was comfy, we backed up in the driveway a few feet and parked, calling it a day. The first trip we took was to a neighbor’s home with his favorite playdate, two doors down. Gradually, over time, we could drive to town, go to a park, play fetch and come home.

Helping a fearful dog requires kindness, patience, consistency, trust and knowledge. The journey we take with our fearful dogs can be the most humbling and gratifying experiences of our lives while dramatically deepening the human-dog bond.

Finding the Right Trainer

When searching for the right fit for you and your fearful dog, look for someone who:

uses positive rewards

has science-based training

is fluent in dog speak

specializes in fearful dogs

This type of trainer will have the experience and knowledge to help you help your dog. A veterinary behaviorist (not a general practice veterinarian) is also a great choice. Although this can be on the more expensive side, it’s worth it if you can’t find an experienced and knowledgeable trainer. In the United States, at this time, dog training is still an unregulated field, although we do have excellent professional organizations and certifications available to trainers. The law does not require dog trainers to follow only training techniques that don’t cause harm to dogs, so do your research.

About the author:

Award-winning writer Jill Breitner has been training dogs since 1978. Her passion lies in teaching people about dog body language. Jill created the Dog Decoder app as a way to enhance the human-dog bond by understanding them better. You’ll find her at play near the ocean. Follow her at dogdecoder.com, facebook.com/dogdecoder and on Twitter @shewhispers.

Learn more about fear and anxiety in dogs at dogster.com:

Have a Fearful Dog? Keep These 6 Things in Mind

7 Means of Dog Anxiety Treatment

What Are Dogs Scared Of? How to Help Dogs Overcome Their Fears

via www.Poop4U.com Trippy.Tube, Poop4U

#poop4u #cute #dogs #puppies #petlove #cute pets #funny pets #funny #doggrooming #puppy dog

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walterfrodriguez · 4 years ago

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Submerged in securities: Many CMBS hospitality loans may be underwater soon

Hotel operators trek into special servicing and it may take years before they get out (iStock)

Carlos Rodriguez Sr., Driftwood Capital and Driftwood Hospitality Management

“We are losing money hand over fist. We lost millions of dollars.”

Carlos Rodriguez Sr., Driftwood Capital

“We are losing money hand over fist. We lost millions of dollars,” he told The Real Deal. “We are in a position to withstand it, but it’s a painful hit.”

In particular, hotel and retail owners are scratching their heads to figure out how to best manage debt payments on commercial mortgage-backed securities.

Debra Morgan, BlackEagle Real Estate Partners

Swamped servicers

Rodriguez said part of his issue with navigating the CMBS market is simply getting someone who’s working on the loan to pick up the phone.

Ann Hambly, 1st Service Solutions

Servicers “are going to get overwhelmed very quickly,” said Ann Hambly, CEO of Texas-based 1st Service Solutions, which provides advisory services for CMBS borrowers.

“They make money the longer you are in there,” Hambly said. “They are not incentivized to do a quick resolution.”

The rules for securitized commercial mortgages are also problematic for some borrowers at a time when the federal government is releasing loan programs to help businesses during the pandemic.

Suzanne Amaducci-Adams, a partner at the law firm Bilzin Sumberg in Miami who represents special servicers and CMBS borrowers, said “CMBS loans specifically prohibit additional secured debt.”

“So any new loan that has security is going to be problematic because you will have two creditors fighting over the same collateral if there is a loan default,” said Amaducci-Adams

High exposure

The CMBS market exploded in popularity in 2007 as U.S. property values rose to all-time highs, but the market came to a near halt during the great financial crisis.

“I think the New York [hotel market] is going to take four to six years to recover.”

Andrew Broad, Avison Young

Hotels are perhaps in even worse shape. Nationwide, hotel occupancy stood at just 36.6 percent for the week ending May 30, according to the industry data firm STR.

Andrew Broad and Rick George, Avison Young

“I think the New York [hotel market] is going to take four to six years to recover,” said Broad.

No love from the Fed?

Lisa Pendergast, CREFC

“Conservative or not, you can’t underwrite assets with no current income and little insight as to what that income will look like once it does materialize,” she said.

Brett Mufson, Fontainebleau Development

Brett Mufson, president of Fontainebleau Development in Miami, stressed that the property has not defaulted on any of its payments.

“We view all our lenders as partners and now more than ever it’s important to work hand-in-hand to ensure a smooth transition back to normalcy,” Mufson told TRD.

History repeats

Borrower and lender attitudes could dampen going forward, due to rising fees and the cumbersome process of reworking CMBS loans, sources say.

It could be especially difficult for smaller hotel owners to get financing in markets where there are fewer lending options.

Sam Chandan, NYU

“If a CMBS lender is not active in a particular market, that can have a significant impact on liquidity,” said Sam Chandan, an economist and dean of NYU’s Schack Institute of Real Estate.

During the last recession, many borrowers said they will never return the CMBS market, which bounced back within a few years, she noted.

The post Submerged in securities: Many CMBS hospitality loans may be underwater soon appeared first on The Real Deal Miami.

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