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zaffrenotes · 3 years ago

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[TRR: WD106] Avoiding A Blunder

Summary: Prince Liam has to fill in for Crown Prince Leo, and Murphy’s Law is put into motion at the end of his trip. Chaos ensues, condensed Wacky Drabble style. Fic Rating/Warning: M; alcohol consumption, minor health/medical emergency, anxiety/angst Author’s Note: All main characters belong to Pixelberry/The Royal Romance, I’m just borrowing them * Fictional versions of IRL individuals are included with affection; any other characters mentioned in this piece are my creation * This is my submission for @wackydrabbles Prompt 106: You’re gonna get us busted! * You have @the-soot-sprite and @ao719 to thank for this ridiculousness, lol - Soot reblogged a photo, Betsy sent me this request

and...this is what my brain came up with (PS - thank you both for the movie discussion) * For the purposes of this story, Triydalia is a fictional country that shares a border with Thailand * Word Count: 1999 😅 (7 minutes reading time)

Taglist (if your name is crossed out, I'll tag you in the comments): @/ao719 @burnsoslow @gkittylove99 @neotericthemis @ofpixelsandscribbles @rainbowsinthestorm @superharriet @/the-soot-sprite @choiceskatie @jaqren @aestheticartsx @bbrandy2002 @dcbbw @gnatbrain @jared2612 @kingliam2019 @ladyangel70 @lovingchoices14 @nestledonthaveone @princessleac1 @queenjilian @sfb123 @texaskitten30 @theroyalheirshadowhunter @yourmajesty09

Liam was used to filling in for Leo at a moment’s notice; participating in conference calls with ambassadors for early morning updates when Leo overslept, and attending meetings with ministers when Leo went AWOL. He’d grown accustomed to his brother’s antics, but he wondered how Bastien managed to keep his position, when he’d lost track of Leo’s whereabouts countless times.

While Leo spent more time avoiding his duties as Crown Prince of Cordonia, Liam dutifully took on the extra responsibilities in stride. It often meant partitioning his already packed schedule to sit in on vital cabinet meetings or dining with visiting dignitaries, but sometimes Leo’s vanishing acts gave Liam the opportunity to travel.

Though their ambassadors handled the majority of day-to-day relations with other countries for trade, Constantine preferred to meet face-to-face when he could. One such time, a lingering cough turned to walking pneumonia, restricting Constantine to as much bed rest as possible. It also meant sending Leo to Japan for a meeting with the Prime Minister in his stead.

It would have been fine, if Leo hadn’t pulled another one of his disappearing acts.

A week later, Liam was seated on the royal jet on his way back from Tokyo, navy attache with espresso brown leather trim in the chair next to him. Across from him, Maxwell chatted with Anya over various Thai dishes. On the other side of the plane, Drake was in a heated discussion with leggy blonde Anitah while the ladies’ petite friend Donna observed in silence, fighting back a grin. “You’re an imbecile if that’s your opinion,” Anitah declared, raising her hands up in the air. “Are you sure that’s the hill you wanna die on?”

Drake smugly sipped from the crystal tumbler in his hand. “I’m right and you know it.”

“What are you two talking about?” Liam asked, relieved to think about anything other than what was in the bag and why it was so important he hand deliver it to his father.

“Fight Club being a better cinematic masterpiece than The Princess Bride,” Drake replied. “You guys agree, right? If you could only watch one movie for the rest of your life, you’d want to watch Tyler Durden fight the system instead of some…” he paused to sneer at Anitah, who crossed her arms and stuck out her tongue at him, “...story about a swashbuckler rescuing a princess? She’s not even a real princess!”

“Fight Club is such a guy movie though,” Anya argued, turning in her seat to face Drake. “Princess Bride appeals to men and women, with a much larger audience.”

“Okay, that’s two for Buttercup,” Drake sighed. “Maxwell? Li?” He looked at his friends expectantly.

“Fight Club, definitely,” Maxwell said, nodding his head. He’d spent the better part of the trip doing everything to get into Drake’s good graces after the octopus incident on the first night in Tokyo.

Before Liam could respond, a commotion from the front of the plane made everyone’s heads turn, where a pair of Kings Guards and two flight attendants were seated near the galley. One of the guards slipped into the cockpit, rushing out a moment later in Liam’s direction, as the jet slowly tilted to the right. “Apologies, Your Highness. Do you or any of your guests happen to speak Triydalian?”

Anya slowly raised her hand. “I knew a bit when I was a kid, but I haven’t used it in years.”

The guard motioned for her to join him. “Please come with us, miss. The pilots need a translator.”

“Is everything alright, Remy?” Liam peered past the guard, eyes widening at the sight of the other guard and one attendant hovering in front of the other attendant in a chair.

“We need to land the plane, Sir,” Remy answered, ushering Anya up from her seat. “Ramona passed out. She’s breathing but unresponsive.”

Twenty minutes later and after a jarring landing, they’d arrived at a small airport in the Republic of Triydalia, at the edge of one of the country’s many jungle forests. Calling it an airport was generous - it was more of a cleared dirt path in the middle of the jungle with a shack for an airport tower, and a man that looked like more of a hunter than an air traffic controller. After a choppy conversation that required pantomiming and hand signals, Anya left with Remy and the man from the tower to fetch a tribal doctor, while Anitah and Donna assisted the other member of the cabin crew to look after Ramona. They were warned to remain as quiet as possible and to stay inside the jet.

Minutes passed by in tense observation; Anitah and Drake continued their debate in low whispers, growing louder as they defended their choices. Liam could see the pilots discussing something pointedly as they checked readings on the instrument panel and worked on calculations. One of them stepped out, claiming that he needed to stretch his legs, and walked cautiously down the runway. When he returned, the other pilot joined him outside, despite the original warning to stay inside. Liam peered out the windows and checked his watch, worrying about Anya and Remy, along with his father’s instructions to avoid delaying their return.

While the remaining guard headed towards the back of the plane to pace back and forth for the eighth time, Liam took it upon himself to speak with the pilots. The air was thick and stifling the moment he stepped outside. Around them, there was nothing but green, green, and more green from the wilderness that surrounded them, abuzz with tropical birds and insects. At his side he carried the blue attache, remembering the promise to his father that the bag wouldn’t leave his sight. He spoke in a hushed tone when he approached the pilots. “You’re doing more than just stretching your legs, aren’t you, Captain?”

Both men grimaced slightly. “Yes, Your Highness. Even if we pulled back to one end of the runway, we’re still at least five hundred feet short of clearing takeoff.”

“What if we worked to try and clear the brush on either end?” Liam offered, looking off into the distance.

“There’s no way to clear out the trees, even the young ones,” the co-captain answered. “We might be able to take off if we could drop some weight, but the larger concern is the longer we wait, we increase the risk of encountering someone who doesn’t want us here.”

Liam nodded gravely; months of civil unrest in Triydalia meant rebel groups assembled faster than the government could contain them. There was no guarantee of anyone’s safety, stranded on a remote runway. There was no telling what was wrong with Ramona while she was unconscious, and therefore no way to treat her without the aid of a doctor. Ensuring the safety of the crew and his friends could have been avoided altogether if Leo didn’t constantly opt out of handling the duties of his station. In that moment, Liam abhorred the never-ending list of responsibilities thrust at him as a result of having to pick up the slack for his brother, knowing if their roles were reversed, Leo would manage to find a way to leave Liam to solve problems on his own.

“Could you excuse me for a moment?”

He’d barely finished asking the question before walking into the tall grass by the edge of the runway. Ignoring the pilots’ calls to return, Liam sprinted into the dense greenery, dodging between vines and scanning the ground for tripwires until he could no longer see the plane over his shoulder. When he finally stopped running, he bent over, hands on his knees as he gulped in air. Liam looked down at the blue bag in his hand, wondering what on earth was so precious to reduce him to a courier.

Shaking the bag did nothing; it felt practically empty, though he could tell something was inside. He couldn’t open the bag to check, since Prime Minister Abe and his father were the only ones with keys, and PM Abe handed him the sealed bag when they parted ways. Liam wanted to throw the infernal “murse” the ladies had good-naturedly teased him for into the bushes. Perspiration dotted his hairline, and he let out a primal scream, before taking slow, deep breaths to quiet the worrisome thoughts racing in his head and bring his heartbeat down to normal.

Cursed courier bag in his right hand, Liam braced his arm against his torso, pinning it in place with his elbow when he bent his other arm up towards his face. Curling his fingers into a relaxed fist, he pressed his lips against his thumb, thick brows furrowing in thought. All around him, wild birds called to one another amidst the chittering clamor of insects hidden in the foliage. He was so busy running through scenarios in his head that he didn’t hear the quiet click of a camera, turning to look up only when he heard a branch snap in the distance.

“Watch it! You’re gonna get us busted!” Donna hissed to Drake. She pocketed her phone, elbowing Drake in the ribs as they crouched behind large leaves. She ticked her head in Liam’s direction. “Go get your boy, none of us are safe out here.”

After some coaxing, Liam headed back to the plane with Donna and Drake, walking briskly through the jungle, eyes trained to look for anything out of the ordinary. Liam was alarmed when he heard and then saw the engines running, until Drake explained the pilots were burning off fuel to lighten the plane. They’d begun to walk up the steps, when Maxwell popped out above them. “Whoo!” Maxwell exclaimed, digging for another snack from the container he cradled in his arm. “Feels like a sauna out here!”

“Lower your voice, Maxwell! Please!” Liam seethed. His features pinched together in disbelief. “Are you...eating? Now?”

“You know I stress snack,” Maxwell replied, shrugging his shoulders. He shoved another cookie into his mouth.

Liam’s eyes lit up and he took the stairs two by two, knocking on the cockpit door before swinging it open. “What if we unloaded whatever’s not bolted down? The decor, dinnerware, the food and drink?”

“That...would certainly help,” the captain replied, looking back over his shoulder. He turned to his co-pilot. “It could be enough to get in the air after burning off the excess fuel.”

“You heard the man, Maxwell,” Liam said, offering his friend a nervous grin. “Get Drake to help you start unloading the plane. Has Ramona’s status changed?”

“Donna found the first aid kit just before she took off with Drake to go after you. Anitah found some smelling salts that gave her a rude wakeup call. Turns out her insulin pump shorted and she just needed some juice.”

Several more minutes passed as the group removed whatever they could from the plane, leaving piles of cookware, food, throw pillows, and even seat cushions to lighten the load. Drake whined when they gathered up the liquor, but he stuffed a bottle of whiskey in a cabinet by his seat. They’d nearly finished when Anya and Remy returned, running on foot. “That thing better be ready to take off!” Anya hollered, motioning for everyone to board. “Rebels on our tail! Time to go!”

Everyone scrambled back onto the plane; Liam relayed the urgency to depart to the pilots, who rapidly went through their flight checklist. Remy pulled Anya up onto the steps and they all clamored to buckle into their seats, the sound of gunfire in the air as the jet rolled forward and lurched up into the air, barely clearing the canopy.

Adrenaline pumping and breaths shallow, Liam looked around at his friends and the crew, thankful they were safely in the air again.

Liam thought he was having a stroke at twenty-four when he saw the contents of the bag. Constantine smiled with glee at the small gold cat, one paw raised.

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celticcrossanon · 3 years ago

Note

I’m so sorry for the rant. I just needed to clear my head and got compelled to do it in your inbox. 🙇🏾‍♀️

Not a question just some thoughts. Sorry I’m spamming you so much. I just read your latest reading about the wanna be“tour” and all I can do is SMH. I think to some extent we saw this coming but they are dialing it up and expanding. Conscious humans would’ve called it quits by now. The Remembrance Day pap walk, Going to elementary schools, “donations”, writing letters like they are world leaders, etc. On one hand I can’t see this becoming much of a “thing”. I don’t think MM and Jarry will go on doing this for long unless they can get some Hollywood to pay attention and acknowledge them. I think another reason with the more public European Royals work so well in their media is because their countries are relatively small, like California and Texas are on the large side in comparison, am I right? So much can happen on one side of the country that I only hear of thanks to friends back in California. I can’t see these two visiting any farm in Montana as “royals” if ever. They got a Clinton and Perhaps more big names and “engagement” is to come (oh god 🤦🏾‍♀️) I’m sure they and the sugars are just loving it but it all looks, sounds and feels so incrediblly STUPID & ABSOLUTELY VAPID AND INSULTING. etc etc. I cannot stand entitled people and the fact that these two cut off, trashed, and demand from their own families for a fleeting moment in the spotlight is unfathomable. That’s a testimony to how strong narcissistic delusions can be. It must be the best high I could ever ask for. 🖤Im new to “Royal Watching” if you can call what I do ‘that’, so I don’t really care about all the other indiscretions. I don’t trust the media and I think it’s just the BRF turn in the hot sun to catch hell. See Andrew, see the Clintons and all the others. Whatever drama is going on with Charles, see the rest of big business. I’m a narcissistic abuse survivor and I still study on the disorder. Now here I am watching these two who make my skin craw, this train needs to SPEED UP . I think I’m just looking for a bit of JUSTICE in the world right now. Between this administration, COVID, my job and all my other drama (I’m sure we all have some, if not BLESS YOU and pass it on 🥺) I’m flabbergasted and a little sick in my stomach at watching yet another set of people be able to walk through life seemingly so unbothered. It’s like the world is closing in and I’m suffocating. 🖤Like, your telling me that just because he was born a Prince and she married him and found a way to have children they get to get away with all of this?. The entitlement, the lies, the forced Wokery, using heavy and important subjects like mental health and racism for a PR boost all just to get a⭐️ on the Hollywood walk of Fame? For a couple of royals they sure know how to dump cold water on ya, they are the epitome of LIFE ISNT FAIR. And I’m sure that all depends on perspective, for example; their sugars who must be going diabetic RN. THEY think they have suffered as well. Look at the Cambridge’s who have not put a foot out of place yet have to deal with these tantrums from all over their family. All families have drama and I can see how the Harkles and the rest could be a payback of the Firm and family as a whole. The Queen covered so much and never really saw that Henry and Andrew and god knows who else were set straight. Look what having so much privilege can do. But is there a limit, anywhere?🖤

🖤Anyways, another thought I had was, this could be the end for any thought of reunion. This Narcissist has worked her magic and this clueless tone deaf fool has really gone and done it. I was driving and I thought of Prince William and the entire remaining Windsors & Mountbatten Windsor’s and the whole Aristocracy cutting the Harkles off entirely because the BRF called a wrap (or had to) and the UK became a Republic after Her Majesty. MM get the privlage in her narcissistic head that she’s the last ever to become a Duchess, Cathrine wouldn’t become the Princess of Wales and it all came down in part because of her and Henry’s actions. Yes Andrew and whoever else aren’t helping but these two made it exceptionally difficult. I think they would take pride in that especially publicly but only when they are praised for it. I think the Cambridge’s would have an easier time with moving on with their family, free to live as they please with no pressure to serve the public. Cathrine can be “lazy”, sleep in, & raise her kids and Wills is free to🖕 the paps who would surely still follow them. A La “where are they now”. The two that would have it the worse are the Harkles as they last bit of what they had to separate them from the rest of Hollywood is gone, no more Royal sheen but they don’t have much now. It would be stupid to use the titles after an abolished monarchy but they’d do it and expose themselves further.🖤 If you made it this far, one last thing. I got cut off while driving. That’s not unusual in this Miami traffic and usually i ignore it but with my mental state I couldn’t help but to compare. it was a packed road and I just really wanted to know where the heck the fire was. Why did this person need to rush so much on a busy road that no one else mattered even though we all have somewhere to go? That’s how I feel about the Harkles. What’s the point, where are they going? They went to New England for Christ sake to play faux royalty, in more trashy outfits might I add. 🤦🏾‍♀️

I guess I do have a question, DOES THE WORLD REALLY BELONG TO THOSE WHO JUST Get UP AND TAKE IT?

Thanks for humoring me and providing this space. ✌🏾

Note: My apologies for this very long post, everyone. I can't put a page break in and the writer needs to let it all out. I am sure a lot of you will be feeling somewhat similar to them.

Reply under the cut, so this is not any longer

Hi april14vc,

You are welcome to rant here.

It sounds like you have a lot going on at the moment and it is all becoming a bit much to handle, as there is no relief anywhere. Is there something fun and relaxing that you can do for you sometime today, just to have a break from it all? I feel like you need to tune out for a bit and do something that is just for you.

I am so sorry that you suffered from narcissistic abuse, and so glad that you survived this. I think the Harkle shenanigans must hurt you in a more personal way than those of us who have never suffered under a narcissist. It is very hard to watch the Harkles seemingly get away with all their entitled abuse without any form of justice coming for them.

I think the Harkles are suffering. They usually are unable to get any sort of attention from the media unless they pay for it, and even then they don't trend - it is a 'blink and you miss it' situation. Look at what happened with Meghan's 40 for 40 program - it was dead in the water before the day was over, and she spent a fortune on PR for that. Compare that to the natural (not paid for) hype that surrounds anything that the BRF does, especially the Cambridges or HMTQ. That hype and attention is what Meghan wants, and she is not getting it.

What the Harkles are getting, and what they hate, is mockery. Look at the response to their Times 100 cover. Look at the comments on this pseudo-royal tour. They are a walking joke, and no narcissist would like that. They tried to cull all negative press while they were members of the BRF, were unsuccessful in stemming all of it, and now have no clout at all to stop any negative media attention. The Harkles may live in a delusion of success, but to the vast majority of people they are no more than very risible z-list celebrities.

The Harkles also have serious money troubles. They may be ignoring them, but those debts will have to be paid, one way or another.

What we are seeing now is the slow slide of the Harkles into obscurity, and their desperate attempts to reverse the process, which never work. They are no more popular and wanted now than they were at the time of Megxit, and in fact their popularity has declined since those days. They may look like they are winning, but it is all an illusion, caused by the amounts of money they are prepared to pay to give the illusion of wealth and star-quality celebrity. The paid for events happen, and then nothing. The paid for PR happens, and then nothing. Their slide downwards continues, and nothing that they do is reversing it.

Yes, at the moment they are on a high and beaming put of every report on their activities. Wait a week and then see where they are. This is like the Oprah interview all over again.

My next reading is going to be on the consequences of this pseudo-royal tour for the Harkles, so maybe there will be some justice for you there.

Edited to add: As for taking down the monarchy, I can't see that happening. For starters, the British government would have to put the matter to the people for a vote, and even if they are insane enough to do that, I can't see the British public voting to remove a beloved Queen because of the antics of two people who are despised that that country. The logistics of replacing the monarchy are also staggering - you have to rework the entire government of not just Great Britain, but of all the commonwealth realms who have HMTQ as Head of State, and that is not an easy task or a light undertaking. In addition, those Commonwealth Realms can keep HM as their head of state even if she is ejected by the British people (which would never happen, but I am stretching the bounds of probability here). After HMTQ comes Charles, who will have a short reign simply because of his age and health, and then William will be king, and he is also loved by the British public. I just can not see all that thrown away for the Harkles, who are rightly hated by the British public.

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marvelsimp · 4 years ago

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The New Kid: Arrived

The New KId Masterlist

Ch. 4

Genre: Fluff, Angst Pairing: Peter x Lesbian!reader (Platonic duh), Avengers & Reader Warnings: swearing, nerdiness, mentions of homophobia and being kicked out, panic attack, Description: Y/n's birthday continues. Reader’s Powers: Healing, telepathy, and empath. Word Count: 2,217

“Cupcake, please.” says a small voice, Morgan.

This causes the room to erupt in everyone’s laughter including your own. The group then sings “Happy Birthday” to you and as you blow out the candles you wish that one day your parents will love you enough and that if that doesn’t that you will be okay.

“Morgan,” you say calmly, “You get to pick the first cupcake since you asked so nicely.”

She smiles and jumps up and down. She takes a second but finally picks one. You decide to take the one from the top and very happily take a bite.

“Hey, before everyone splits off,” Peter says, “Let’s get Y/n to open her presents!”

Presents? Seriously? Today was honestly enough. You open your mouth to protest but Peter stuffs your cupcake in your face and leads you to a chair that’s surrounded by gifts. He forces you to sit down just as you get the last bit of icing off of your nose. “You guys seriously didn’t have to get me gifts, today was enough.”

“Shut up,” Peter retorts.

You put your hands saying, ‘ok fine.’

“Open mine first!” yells Carol.

You blush, you honestly forgot you were still holding it. You open the bag and inside is a Captain Marvel plushie, you let out a chuckle and get it out of the bag to show everyone. There are a few laughs and aww’s around the room. You look up at Carol who’s grinning and give her a nod of approval which she seems to enjoy.

You next grab a small box it reads ‘The Starks’ and you open it, it’s a bracelet. Tony tells you about its functions and how to use it. Most importantly, you can get her to send messages although you can’t hear Friday through it.

The next gift is from Nat and Clint, it’s a few sets of training clothes. She informs you that in a week you’ll start basic combat training, you aren’t too excited but it's better than dying. That training will also help teach you about the present from the Starks.

Next is a gift from Scott, Hope, and Cassie it’s a beautiful Captain Marvel necklace. You look up at Peter, “So you told EVERONE.” There are a few nods around the room, and you can feel carol trying not to laugh. You blush a little harder.

Next is a gift from Sam, Steve, and Bucky as you open it you let out an evil laugh, there’s around Spider-Man pillow. You quickly pull it out of the bag and smack Peter in the face causing him to fall on the floor. There is an eruption of laughter. “Okay, I like her!” Sam yells. You look back in the bag and there is a set of matching Spiderman PJ’s. You get them out and toss a pair to Peter, who is still on the floor. There were a few ‘awws’ to that one.

“Well,” I’ve got to put this one to bed,” Pepper said standing up.

Morgan pouted.

Pepper picked her up, dismissing Morgan’s protests. “I might come back down once she’s asleep. Happy Birthday, Y/n!”

“Happy Birthday,” waved Morgan who was still very annoyed that she had to sleep.

“Sweet Dreams,” you tell Morgan waving back. As they get on the elevator you pick up a tiny bag that’s from Ned, when you open it you discover a Deathstar keychain. You tear up a little bit and explain to everyone how you met Peter. (In case you don’t remember, Y/n first messaged Peter after he posted a picture of the LEGO DethStar.)

Next, you open it from MJ, it has three books in it. MJ is quick to explain that she wanted to share her favorite but couldn’t pick just one. You thank her you know how important books are to her.

Next is a rectangular box from Thor ‘and Loki’ seems to be added later. In it is a simple yet beautiful dagger, it leaves you a little confused, but Nat offers to teach you how to use it and you accept.

You still three gifts and one card left. You decide to go on ahead and open up the card, it’s from Rhodey. You open it and it’s just a simple Birthday card signed Rhodey and $20 falls out when you open it. “Like I said I didn’t know until this morning and I had to come from the west coast.” His defense makes you smile, and you assure him that you’re pleased.

Next is a large gift bag from Wanda inside is a large amount of “spa day” items, bath bombs, face masks, candles, etc. You tell all the teens, including her, that there has to be a spa day. The girls accept pretty quickly while Ned and Peter are a little more hesitant but accept anyways. The next gift is from Bruce, it’s a decently large box.

You start to unwrap it and discover it to be a microscope, you let out an excited gasp. “I saw yours this morning, it looked ancient so I thought you might enjoy a newer model,” Bruce explains, “We do have some more powerful ones in the lab, but I thought that you might enjoy your own.” You’re like a kid on Christmas, excited to try out all of your new gifts.

“One more,” Peter smiles handing you a bag. It’s from him, obviously, you take out the tissue paper and there are two toy lightsabers one has “Peter” engraved on it and the other one has “Y/n.”

“Haha, you nerd!” you giggle out. You grab yours and toss Peter his. You stand up and turn on your saber. You pause for a second, looking for his approval. He nods in return.

“I have brought peace, freedom, justice, and security to my new empire.”

“Your new Empire?” Peter replies in the worst British accent you’ve ever heard.

You can’t contain your giggles, neither can Peter or Ned.

“Don’t make me kill you,” you say trying to contain your smile.

Tony has his hand on his head, you can hear him mutter, “Dear god, not another one,” under his breath.

“Anakin, my allegiance is to the republic, to Democracy!”

You start to carefully walk around Peter, “If you are not with me, then you are my enemy.”

“Only a Sith deals in absolutes. I will do what I must.”

“You will try.” That’s when the very epic battle began, as you fought you both making noises like “Vruummummm” or “Schvrmmmm.”

You could see Bucky’s concerned/confused face that Steve seemed to be amused at. You also saw Steve lean down and whisper something in Bucky’s ear which seemed to calm him. Finishing the battle, you jumped up in the air as Peter pretended to chop off your limbs.

He laughed and reached his hand out for you to get up. You accept and he pulls you up. The crowd is laughing and a few of them are clapping so you and Peter bow which causes them to clap a little louder and a few cheers.

“Imma guess that you’ve never seen Star Wars,” you say to Bucky as you go to reclaim your seat. He just shakes his head.

“Well, that’s a problem,” laughs Peter.

You nod, “That means a movie marathon sometime soon.”

Over the next two hours, the group just hangs out. You disperse back into smaller groups. Rhodey and Carol have to leave about 30 minutes after the battle. They both wish you a Happy Birthday and go back to the west coast or space.

You’re with the teen group, Wanda and you are the only two who are done with high school, Peter, Ned, and MJ still have a year and a half while Cassie has two and a half left. Wanda is nice, she could snap any of you in half if needed but you know that she wouldn’t. Cassie is pretty goofy like her dad; she and Wanda aren’t nearly as nerdy as the rest of the group, but they know enough to keep up.

“Ok so why do you like the sequels better?” Peter asks, he already knows the answer but wants you to say it.

You let out a nervous laugh. “Come on, Pete.”

He grins waiting for your answer.

“Fine,” you say lowering your head a little bit in shame. “I don’t like the others as much because of how they sound.”

“What?” Ned breathes out.

“I know! It's just… they sound so weird and fake. I hate it.”

Wanda giggles at your answer, which causes you to smile.

“Y/n, I don’t even know what to say,” giggles Ned. “Seriously, that’s the reason?”

MJ looks down at her phone, “Oh, shit I got a curfew.”

Ned’s eyes widen, “Me, too!”

You hug them both as they wish you Happy Birthday again.

“I kinda wanna put on my PJ’s,” says Cassie, she, Scott, and Hope are staying the night.

“Yeah,” you say looking at Peter, reminding him of your matching PJs’.

As you and Peter go down the hall to go to your rooms, Peter takes you into his room. “I have one more gift for you,” he says smiling a little. He grabs a box from his desk and opens it. It’s a lesbian pride flag, you smile and wrap your arms around him. You’ve never had one before.

Peter shoves you out the door after you separate from the hug. He tells you to put on your PJs. When you walk into your new room you set your new flag on your desk. You quickly head to your bathroom and change. When you step back into your room a surge of emotions rush through you. You’re so happy that you’re there but all that you want to do is tell your parents. On your bedside table is a picture of the three of you, it’s one of your favorites. You pick it up. It was taken on your first day of high school and you all look so happy. Why couldn’t they just be here? Why did they have to kick you out? Why? Why did they not love you? You see your tears drop onto the picture.

Your angry, you’re so angry that they’re not there. You just want to hug them and tell them about how great your day was and how fun it was. You want to just want to be able to collapse into them because of how exhausted you are, but you can’t. You can’t because they are not there. They’re not there because they kicked you out. And they kicked you out because they don’t love you enough to have a lesbian as a daughter. And do you want to know the worst part of it? You still love them.

You throw the picture against the wall, causing the glass to shatter. Why couldn’t they just love you are you are? You didn’t decide to be this, you just are. You can’t breathe. You can’t get any air in it's like the world is You let out a sob. What parents would decide not to abandon their child because of who they love?

Peter enters with some of your gifts. He sees the picture on the floor and picks it up, putting it on your desk. He drops the gifts he is holding and rushes to your side. Steve and Bucky are behind him with gifts in their arms as well. They were smiling at first but now they’re concerned. Peter sits down on the bed next to you, his eyes are asking you what’s wrong. Steve and Bucky quickly set down the rest of the gifts and leave.

“Y/n, what’s wrong?” he looks concerned, sad. “You gotta breathe.”

“They don’t love me,” you explain in between sobs.

Peter’s concern turns into anger, he can’t believe that someone’s parents would kick out their wonderful daughter just because she likes girls. “Fuck them,” he says pulling you into his chest as you sob. “You are incredible, Y/n. You deserve the world, but they are too stupid and too blind by their stupid ass beliefs to see that. You are one of the best, kindest, most intelligent people I know and if they don’t see that as worth it then fuck them.”

You let out a small chuckle. He tells you to follow his breathing and you do. After a few minutes, you’ve calmed down. “I still love them.”

Peter pauses for a second. “Of course, you do,” he sighs, “You’re allowed to love them, they’re your parents. But that doesn’t mean that they didn’t hurt you or that you can’t hate them. THEY are in the wrong, not you. You never forget that you did absolutely wrong and you are not wrong. You are perfectly you.” He pauses for a second, not because he doesn't know what to say and not because of what he is going to say, he's told you a million times before so it isn't new. But because of how important it is that you hear it. “And I love you, I’ll love you enough for both of them and more, Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Come on,” Peter says wiping his eyes. “Let’s go watch a Pixar movie and eat some ice cream.”

Next Chapter

Arrived - deleted scene

#Avengers #avengers x reader #avengers x platonic reader #peter parker x platonic!reader #peter parker #spiderman #reader #reader-insert #wanda x reader eventual #avengers x lesbian #lesbian #lesbian reader

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chokemeanakin · 4 years ago

Text

Give Me Love

Chapter Six

Wc: 1.2k

MASTERLIST

Smut warning!

You wrenched yourself out of sleep, faintly hearing the horrifying shrill of your alarm clock in the deepest part of your sleeping brain. You groaned, swearing you had just fallen asleep, when you turned over to read the clock.

Shit.

Launching out of bed, you quickly pulled on a new pair of scrubs and threw your hair up in a messy style. You had approximately 10 minutes to get to your station, and the Jedi Temple was 5 minutes away at a sprint. You smeared some quick makeup on, dragged deodorant under your arms, and then shoved your feet in your shoes, fleeing down the hall as fast as your sleep-dizzy body could take you.

You realized, after just making it to the medbay on time, that you hadn’t been able to grab something quick for breakfast. Oh well, you would have to skip it. Serves you right for sleeping through your alarms and then waking up at the last possible minute. The adrenaline was just wearing off, leaving you grumpy and more than a little exhausted as you flicked the lights on in your station. Bleary eyes took a moment to focus on your surroundings before they fell on a styrofoam cup from your favorite coffee shop sitting on your supply table, a note beside it.

Meet me in the hangar after your shift ends.

-Anakin

+++

“No please?” You thrust the letter at him. He closed his hand over your fist, returning it to your side as he grinned and pulled you alongside him toward his ship.

“Not this time. I pulled a lot of strings in order for this to happen.”

“For what to happen?”

Anakin didn’t answer you. Instead, he climbed up the ladder on the side of the ship, slipping into the cockpit of his interceptor.

“Come on,” he beckoned with his gloved hand. “Get in with me.”

You found yourself smiling like a fool, giddy with anticipation as you climbed the ladder. Anakin Skywalker was taking you for a spin in his famous Actis-class interceptor. You heard this was the fastest ship in the Republic fleet. How much better could this day get?

So much better.

You realized this as you reached the top of the ladder, hesitating as you scanned the cockpit for a place to sit. There was only one seat, and he was in it. Where were you going to go?

“It’s a little small… there’s only supposed to be enough space for one person. I just thought you could sit here, if you’re okay with that—“

Doubt seemed to taper his words as his sentence trailed off, unsure that you would be willing to get so close to him. A surge of something hot and ready ignited in your chest, a desire to prove him wrong. You weren’t the stumbling, scared girl he had met in the diner last night. You were more than that, and you could prove it to him now. First by… sitting on his lap?

“Here, scootch forward a bit. Just so that you’re not right on top of me. Otherwise I can’t see.” Your body was putty in his hands as his hands closed around your waist— just barely, but enough for sparks to shoot across the places he touched. You found the edge of a leather seat, and then he encouraged you to lean back into him as his legs bracketed yours. It wasn’t as squished as you originally thought. In fact— you really liked it. The small space gave you an excuse to get up close and personal with Anakin, and the feel of his firm body pressed against your back sent large waves of happy chemicals to your brain.

“Comfortable?”

Oh fuck.

That voice, right up against your ear, lips ticking your skin, oh shit. He had to know what he was doing.

You nodded, humming a little in confirmation, as you didn’t trust your voice not to shake. Anakin smirked knowingly, although you couldn’t see it as he began pressing random buttons on the dash.

His arms brushed over your shoulders as he closed the glass dome over you, mumbling into his earpiece to Artoo. The ladder retracted, wings expanding, and suddenly, you were flying.

Watching Anakin pilot was something magnificent altogether. That night, you lived it over and over in your head, rubbing yourself in time with his fingers flying over the dashboard. You reached your peak because of the most random, scandalous things. The grip of his glove over the throttle. The flex of his bicep as he pulled it back, almost touching you. The steady breathing of his hard chest behind you. Even the way he shot orders at Artoo, then praised him for a job well done after every command. That was a droid, and he was so good to it—

You thought you had really hit the highest point of your life, until he gifted you with that glorious laugh in your ear, and then asked, “You wanna see something cool?”

You nodded— of course you did. And suddenly, you were spinning around and around and around. Your hands clutched at his thighs for stability as the ship circled around in the dead of space. The stars blurred into continuous lines around you, your entire point of existence narrowing down to your dizzy brain, the man laughing in boyish glee behind you, the screaming droid in the back, and your hands gripping at his muscular thighs.

And when he finally stopped spinning, and you finally stopped laughing along with him, and you finally managed to focus your eyes again on the endless black night before you, he lowered his lips to your ear again and murmured, “Was that okay? Too much?”

You’re pretty sure you gushed right there, on the spot.

Was he doing that on purpose? Did he realize the effect his words had on you?

No matter the answer, you had reached your peak three times tonight from that moment alone. You could still feel the tickle of his lips as they brushed against your ear. The flex of his hard muscle against your back. The warmth of his presence surrounding every inch of you.

You wanted him here, right here, in bed with you. Pulling these sounds from your lips with his hands, these wonderful feelings from your core.

Your fingers paused on their way to your 4th orgasm.

Was that really what you wanted?

Yes.

That wasn’t the question you should be asking. Of course you wanted that, you’d be crazy not to. The real challenge was, how would you be able to get over all of your fears and insecurities to a point where you could even think about doing that with him?

The thought had a familiar, agonizing nausea building up in the pit of your stomach. You were sick of it, deciding to ignore it in order to lose yourself in your fantasies one last time. You delved deeper into your mind, drawing yourself to a high against sweat-slicked sheets, spasming and convulsing around your hand and a whimpering prayer of, “Anakin, Anakin, Anakin.”

After that last high, the blanket of shame was thrown over you again. How could you keep doing this to Anakin? Breaching his trust like this? Imagine what he would say if he found out you had these perverse thoughts about him. You had to stop, immediately.

Taglist:

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Join the Taglist!

#give me love #Anakin x fem reader #Anakin fic

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nettlestonenell · 3 years ago

Photo

Let’s talk.

Citizens of the Republic, Subjects of the Kingdom, and Gentle Readers, here you will find Part 3 of a failing attempt to dictate my thoughts during a The King: Eternal Monarch rewatch.

Touching on topics such as:

the Netflix-available trailer review

how looking like you stepped out of a manhwa might harm your career trajectory

other ways in which Netflix destroys my constant-pause viewing style and how to switch them off

Hangul v. Hanja

thoughts on the opening credits

Anyway, back to the trailer. Does this trailer, is the question, does it make me wanna watch this show?

I'll watch it again, it's one minute long and then I'll review it.

Actually, it says god had released demons into the world and it shows us the flute. And it talks about how demons opened up the passage to a parallel world, OK, so my review of the trailer is that trailers on Kdramas are really hard for me because I have to read subtitles. This trailer is full of a lot of quick cuts, and so because of that, I can't really absorb what is generally going on.

And of course, TKEM trailer is gonna be even more confusing because it's babbling on about parallel worlds and doppelgangers and all these other things. It's just too much to keep track of. Obviously, it makes sense to me now because I've watched the show. But in so far as something that would make me wanna watch the show, I don't think that it would.

Now mind you, most Kdrama trailers are not gonna make me want to watch the show that they're for, 'cause once again It's just like my eyeballs are pingpong-ing between trying to see what is going on and reading subtitles. And it's just System overload.

It has really, it has some of the great music. That great instrumental? I'm not gonna know what to call it, but maybe I'll look up what instrumental that is that's playing. [I didn’t] It shows a little bit of that high-level, that elevated cinematography that you're gonna get [on this show]. That's very pretty. And then of course, while I don't know that it fully highlights him, because it does, but I think it probably does highlight him. It shows you LMH and it just brings to mind the quote that I heard, one of the directors said for Gangnam Blues, which was that he looks like he stepped out of a manhwa. [the director mentioned this when saying that quality got in the way of whether he should cast LMH in the role he ultimately got] And I mean, the person that said this, I think it tickled them and made them giggle in the same way that it makes me giggle because I find LMH to just be ridiculously striking on-screen, particularly in TKEM.

And of course, LMH's got all these glamour shots taken of him as if it's the 1940s, black-and-white-Hollywood, where they’d take four days to film an actress’s perfect close-up. So they’d look peak beautiful.

LMH definitely hits all of those notes in this trailer where you might have to just take a minute after watching it and try to, I don't know, recompose yourself, take a sip of water or find your smelling salts.

Someone bring KGE a glass of water, or a cold towel. As shown, her working conditions are egregious.

But if you looked back to the subtitles, it definitely says that the portal is opened by demons, so I don't know. I think I might have to ask. I can't think of her name. I'll have to look it up [@accioecho ] to get in her asks and see if she would translate the word as ‘demons’ when we're looking at the flute, or if that's referring to the Traitor. Who? What are the demons? But then also it, of course, as I say, it said that god had let demons into the world. Does that make The Dragon King of the East Sea god? I mean, he does seem to be a divinity in Korean culture. But as far as I can tell, not having studied Korean culture, there is polytheism at work historically. There are many deities. So, I don't know. Which god are we talking about?

I mean, somebody started us down this path before the Traitor took the wheel

Are we ready to start watching this? Says I've talked 5 pages. And I don't know if that makes me ready to start watching the show or not.

This is a show that I like to watch at night. When it's dark outside. Because for whatever reason, it's a show that makes me feel very cozy. Obviously, your mileage may vary as to whether this show makes you feel cozy, and I'm sure it didn't make me feel cozy when I originally watched it, because how could it?

I will also say that I'm tickled that Netflix has finally added a double thumbs up ability for me in rating the show because that was an issue that I was having that Netflix would always be asking me to rate things and I would think well, you know, I liked it, but did I like it the same as Rookie Historian? No, I liked Rookie Historian just fine. I liked it a reasonable amount. It scratched the itch that I had and I found it a pleasant experience, but I would not put it on the same par as this show which obviously is enough of an obsession that I am now talking to you about it, into a voice dictating word processing program.

If you don't think that every time that I hear the da dong of the Netflix “N” coming up on my screen and think of Eun Sup folding laundry, then you’re wrong.

Additionally, it is not lost on me that this is also the product of Studio Dragon, just like Crash Landing on You. Generally, when I was originally watching the show, I would skip after watching the credits once, I would consistently skip the credits. I don't do that now. I think because originally I was just very anxious to get down to business. I needed to see what was gonna happen on the show. But now I find the credits really enjoyable. They're moody, the music is cool. There's a lot to look at, and so I appreciate it more.

The icon which is, I don't know, the writing that has a clock sunk into it, and the clock is ticking backwards. Other than hopefully I think it means to show that time is not functioning properly, it's not like we really turn time backwards here, is it? I guess you could say that going back to the night of the treason is in a sense turning time backwards, but then we don't have to relive it in the same way, we don't really live through all of that time [again]. Anyway, it I like it. I like the ticking. I know that they use it in a couple of episodes at the end. I'm not sure that they use it in every one. I guess we'll find out [in this rewatch]. But I think it's effective.

Interestingly, although in canon the flute is made of bamboo, I think it's mentioned several times and then also historically the flute, which if you look it up, is a historical item, though no one that talks about it travelling between worlds, but the Manpasikjeok is definitely a historical item, and it is made of bamboo. But the tree that we're shown in the credits. I think is not. It's certainly not a bamboo tree. Is it a ginkgo tree?

Of the [kdrama] shows that I've seen, I feel like this is one of the few shows or possibly the only show that's going to give you both English and Korean for the names in the credits. Is it the Hangul or the Hanja? [I think Hangul] And then a Westernized version and one without hyphens, whichever one that is [it’s neither Revised Romanization or McCune–Reischauer, those would be: Revised Romanization= Gim Go-eun McCune–Reischauer= Kim Koŭn, it’s like a hybrid] of actors’ names. So that to me is interesting [the notion that already with the credits we are being shown that this program is expected to appeal to audiences outside of Korea].

But here's this first shot on the bridge where the bridge is twisted and there's someone standing on the bridge. And then we're seeing at the top of the screen it's, the truth is, it's not like we're seeing the Republic and then the Kingdom on the bottom, because we know that the Kingdom also has very highly technologically advanced modern cities, but it is something that's showing duality where we're sort of seeing a version of ancient Korean architecture on the bottom of the screen,

This is the yellow screen that has LMH and KGE’s names in the opener.

If a person is Korean, some of the buildings, when they start showing specific things they're gonna maybe be notable. We get like an arch, which of course to my Western eyes anytime there's an arch I think of L’Arc de Triomphe in Paris, which obviously this is not, but I assume that it might be a significant Korean landmark.

(also it morphs into another arch)

And then we end on an image that I just adore with all my being:

You've got the statue of Admiral Yi Sun-Shin in the background at Gwanghwamun Square, which I was familiar with before, when I truly watched (not that first time when I gave up)-- I was aware of that square because of Memories of the Alhambra where people are like fighting in it when they're fighting in their altered reality.

But this, this image I really love, so I paused Netflix and I like this image a whole lot where she's opposite him on the horse. And there's the reflection in the water. And it's just beautiful.

What doesn’t it tell you about this show? There’s reflection, calling out the parallel worlds in the water, but also Lee Gon’s side is bluer, Tae-Eul’s is yellow/orange, they’re in opposition to each other. We’re in Seoul, the wind has JTE’s coat but not Maximus’ tail. Lee Gon not only looks white knightly/kingly, he’s seated on a very tall horse, elevated from JTE who stands on the ground in her very regular trenchcoat. The leads are not on equal footing.

The image is epic, showing the type of story we’re going to get, and the high quality of the cinematography to come is also teased by it. It is, as GBBO would say, an absolute showstopper.

I could talk about it for a long time, probably, but this brings me to this annoyance that I currently have with Netflix that I don't know that I can stop, and that is when all they want to do is slap these advertisements over a paused image.

I like the paused image. I wanted to see it, but I can't see it, because now you're telling me I need to watch Hi, Bye, Mama. And this is not like much time elapses as I'm sure you know. If you watch Netflix, before this pops up, this pops up Kaboom almost instantly. And I don't know if that's 'cause they don't want me to take a screen grab of it. I mean, I'm watching it on my television so I wouldn't have the ability to do that anyway. Maybe i need to get down into the Netflix settings and see if there's some way to get rid of this but boo i hate it.

For me at least, these advertisements popping up are newer. I used to spend time like trying to look in the reflection [of the image] to see if things were different, of them standing on the square, looking at each other, but I have not been able to discover if anything is different. I I think it's the same. I think that it's the actual reflection of what we're looking at, but you can never be too sure with this show, 'cause this the show has got a lot for you to look at on reviewing, as I'm sure you know if you're willing to still be reading six page in.

[PSA:: Here’s how I found you can turn off those image suggestions that pop up when you pause Netflix:] There's a way to turn them off.

Account page, scroll down to the link for "test participation"

Once you are in the test-participation page, simply toggle the button to "off"]

...tbc..

Good news! In the next post we’ll actually start the show!

#tkem #tkem meta #the king: eternal monarch #the king eternal monarch #lee gon #jeong tae eul #queue-een jeong tae-eul #kdrama #more like okay: drama #the king: eternal monarch netflix #nell chats tkem #chez nell mind palace #lee min ho #tkem rewatch

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the-wisteria-house · 4 years ago

Text

Beifong reader

"Hello everyone." President Riko begins "Today we are all here to celebrate the founding of The United Republic-"

Your attention is drawn away from the speech to your mother, who looks nervous. "Hey."You elbow her arm lightly."What's up."

"The Avatar's going to be here to day. I'm afraid she'll cause trouble."She shrugs.

You could tell she was lying. You may be a tween, but you're not stupid. "You should have more faith in her."you then continue"Yes she can be impulsive and ignorant. But she'll grow out of it at some point. She's a good person."

Your attention shifts back to the president when you don't a response.

"Everyone will be paired up with someone with a different nationality or bending. Listen for your name, and the name of your partner." They start to list off pairs. After a few minutes you hear your name.

"(Y/N) Beifong, and Jinora of the Air Nomads."

"Alright bye."You say once you spot a girl in orange.If you would have looked at your mother. You would have seen the panic cross her face.

Lin begins to eternally panic. 'Why didn't I think about this? I knew this was a bad idea-'

"I didn't know you and your sister where back in contact."Her thoughts are interrupted by Tenzin.

"We're not."Lin raises an eyebrow before it clicks. He didn't think you were her's. "Oh, then who's-"

"She's mine."The woman interrupts.

"I just thought- because-well you-umm. Never mind..."The monk stammers awkwardly.

With you and Jinora

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

"I didn't know Lin had a daughter."Jinora looks to the slightly taller girl.

"Yeah,I get that a lot."You laugh ignoring the slight sting of hurt.

"So how old are you?"

"I'm 13, how about you?"

"I just turned 11."You nodded to show you were listening.

"Cool. What do you wanna do first?"

The girl thinks for a moment. "How about we do each others training?"

This confuses you.

"What do you mean? Like for me to drill you like an earth bender, and for me to do you're training?"

"Yes exactly! Well of course excluding the bending part."she gets excited

"I don't know.....do you really want to be trained like an earth blender?"you question

"Yes, it's the opposite of air. I might learn something new."

You chuckle 'She's serious.' "Okay...."

"Let's go fine our parents and let them know what's up."

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

"I haven't seen you in ages!" Katara smiles at Lin.

"Katara, how have you been?" Lin smiles back at the older woman.

"Oh,hey Lin!"Kya greets.

"Hey,Kya."she waves to her old pro-bending partner.

But before they could get to deep into conversation. TZwo young girls come running up to them."Hey,Dad can (Y/N), and I go to air temple Island? I want to show her the meditation spots, and the quart yard."Jinora asks excitment evident in her voice.

"I don't see why not."Tenzin responds.

"Hey Chief, can I go check out air temple Island with Jinora?"Katara raises a brow in confusion. Why were you asking Lin?

"Chief?" Kya questions.

Lin realizes she never introduced you to everyone. "Oh, this is (Y/N), my daughter."she gestures to you.

"Hello."You wave to the adults. Wanting to get out of there emedenty.

"Hey why don't you run me through those drills?"Jinora saves you.

"Alright, are you sure though? Let me warn you. These aren't for the sensitive. I can go easy on you if you want?"You bargen.

"No,don't go easy on me I want to learn the right way!"She incestsis stubbornly.

You laugh "Sue it yourself. You have the stubbornness, that's got sure."

"This should be interesting."Katara sips her tea.

"This is the horse stance."You demonstrate. She copies,but her mussels are to loose.

You walk up to her. "Brace yourself."You warn before pushing her slightly.

You demonstrate again

"Tighten your muscles. Be firm,face it head-on."

After an hour of teaching. Jinora wanted to take things up a notch. "This is cool but I want more of a challenge."she describes. "Okay sure."You pull out a blind fold which confuses the air bender. "What's that for?"You ignore Jinora and put it on. "Do everything I just taught you."You say sternly.

An hour or so later

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"No,no no! Keep your knee's high Twinkle Toes!"you say still blind fold. "I can barely since you you're like a dancer something."

Katara pauses and looks at her daughter. "Did she just call Jinora-"

"Twinkle Toes?"Lin laughs "Yes,yes she did."

"So Lin,what are some of (Y/N)'s interest?"Katara makes conversation."She's a major history buff and always has her nose in a book when she's not earth bending." Lin chuckles. Katara joins in. "I remember when Aang and your mother were there age. She'd run him around the same way. Well she was alittle apologetic." The old woman reminisced.

Lin didn't respond. You did remind her of her mother sometimes. With you witty responds and smile. Though she didn't see it much only when you spoke about earth bending or your new favorite book.

The metal bender it snapped out of her thoughts "Who's the father?" Bumi asks before earning a hard snake on the back of the head from Kya.

"Now Bumi,you shouldn't you pry. It's non of our business." Katara scolds.

Lin shifts "No,it's fine. He was a guy who I worked with here and there. He was nice, just didn't work out." Lin technically didn't lie, but didn't tell the full truth.

"Why'd you keep her a secret?"Pema Pipes up. Lin only laughs. "She never was a secret. She's just is a quiet kid. Avoids the lime light."She smiles."Well except when it comes to earth bending or combat. She's very can become very competitive."

Before to long you two girls made your way to air temple Island.

It's been a few months since you meet Jinora. You currently where on the air ship helping fine new air benders, and to protect Korra with your mother. Though mainly that was her job.

"Hey (N/N)! Look what I found!"Jinora runs up the ramp of the air ship. Causing you to smile."What is it?" You asked the younger girl.

"It's a pamphlet for a fortune teller!"

"Ah, cool."

"Can you come with me?"She pleads."It'll be fun!"

"I don't believe in that stuff." You wave dismissively.

"I really want to go."She smiles. You glare but then your smile seeps through.

"Fine I guess it won't hurt anything. Come on."

You both make your way off the ship. After briefly telling your parents you're going into town to explore.

"I wonder what my fortune will be?" The metal bender smiles. "Jinora dear.Thake what they say with a grain of salt. It's a shame." She nods.

"It may be. I wanna see for my self if there's truth behind it."

The benders pause in front of a medium sized tent. "This is the place?"

"Yeah, come on."She grabs your hand.

"Welcome,welcome. How can I help you?" A old woman with long gray hair asks in a raspy voice.

"Hello, we're here to get our fortunes." The air bender response.

"I see. Why don't you and your sister follow me."The gray woman walks behind a large tapestry.

"We're not-"You begin to correct her before Jinora interrupts."Come on!"

"What do you see?"Jinora stairs intently at the woman reading her palm. "You will live a long life. All of your children will be powerful benders. Oh I'm getting something else." The woman closes her eyes. "Someone you know they will push you away. You mustn't give up on them." She ends.

"Do you know who?"Jinora pushes.

"No, they did not say."You roll your eyes at the old woman.

"It's your turn miss.(Y/N)." The woman looks to you.

"I never told you my name." Your eyebrows cress in suspicion.

"I know."

You sit down in front of her.

"Let me see your hand." You reluctantly place your hand into her's.

"Your mother isn't around much. Your father has been absent all your life. You have mastered multiple sub forms of earth bending,sand bending, metalbending,and seismic sensing."Your shocked to say the least. "Okay, what else?"

She frowns "You marry a fire bender, one you never expected to fall for. You'll search for the truth of your origins, and get more than you asked for." This left you confused. "What do you mean?"

"I'm only the messager. I don't know anything else."

The metal bender stands."Thank you for your time."

You walk out the tent Jinora tailing after you.

"That was...strange."She says awkwardly.

"Eh, she could be lying. Why don't we go get some thing to eat?"

"Yeah,sounds good to me." Jinora agrees not wanting to push things.

Sorry I know that was bad...I only briefly looked over everything. So there might be some spelling errors. I hope you guys enjoyed. Feel free to leave request, or to ask questions.

#mako x reader #jinora x kai #jinora #toph beifong #lin beifong's daughter #lin beifong #suyin beifong #tenzin #tenzin x lin #tenzin x pema #meelo #the legend of korra #loki fanfic #katara #commander bumi

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zoryany · 4 years ago

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(Of Loyalty and Royalty) "You know, Captain Solo," the Empress said, delicately putting her wineglass down. Han tried not to stare at the motion, or at her, or anywhere. Things were always awkward around her. "I had my doubts, but I am beginning to see what Luke sees in you. I am glad he has you." Han breathed a sigh of relief. Then the Empress *had* to add, "Of course, my husband does not share this response."

Royal Imperial Skywalker AU (parts 1-6)

Send me things!!(always accepting, for this or any other verse, just… slow)

It had taken several minutes of insisting, and some creative thinking on his part, but Han had finally gotten Goldenrod out of his and Chewie’s collective hairs, having sent him off on some convoluted mission to find a very vital component for modifying the Falcon. It was weird enough being in the Palace, even with Luke, so being here without him was absolutely surreal. The night before had not been a restful one, that’s for sure.

At least now he had Chewie with him. Something about that big, walking fuzzball made everyone feel more at ease, it seemed – aside from the moments it was clear he was about to lose his temper. Then? It was best to steer clear, unless you wanted to lose an arm. But… even in the early days, Luke seemed to be comforted by his presence.

Han would argue until the day he died that he was not out of his mind for missing the fact that Luke was, indeed, the Imperial Prince, given just how fumbling the kid was right off the bat. Too earnest for his own good and stumbling over his words, you’d think he’d never spoken to another human being before. Which… well, clearly wasn’t the case, but perhaps he just didn’t have as much experience with the sorts of conversations regular folk might have. And for that, he always seemed so nervous when he tried to talk to Han. It was endearing, of course, and played a large part in winning the scoundrel over, but it absolutely screamed “Outer Rim Crop-Duster” without giving a hint at any form of nobility. And yet, when he was around Chewie, he seemed to just… relax. Words flowed much more naturally, whether he addressed the Wookiee or the captain, and a good portion of the tension he carried in his shoulders would just evaporate.

The ease of interaction between him and Luke had grown over the weeks, of course, but Chewie had always been an effective buffer in any situation. He was also effective when it came to negotiations for that very reason, and it was why Han almost wished his first mate had been around for the previous night’s dinner. True, all parties agreed it was for the best that he’d stayed behind, but still; it would have saved Han a lot of discomfort.

“Well, pal,” Han sighed, flopping down on his overly luxurious bed and sprawling out, “how’s it feel, living the high life?”

Perched awkwardly on the foot of the bed, Chewie gave Han a look absolutely brimming with irony. Given his history, as well as that of his people, Chewbacca had never really been in favour of an Imperial Regime in and of itself, but there was a certain level of respect he’d always held for the newfound freedom the Wookiees experienced under the current system. He would speak ill of the life of his people under the Republic, and the galaxy headed under Palpatine, but he carefully maintained an air of neutrality towards the current Royal Family. Through it all, though, Chewie had never sought a life of luxury. He’d always been content to live day to day, repaying the life-debt he was convinced he still owed Han and doing whatever he could to find his place in the galaxy.

Han supposed that over two centuries was plenty of life lived, and sometimes you just had to find your thrills no matter their source.

“Yeah, yeah, I getcha,” Han conceded, sitting back up and running a hand through his hair. “Can’t say I’m feeling all that at home here, either.”

Chewie took a few moments to glance around the room, taking in the décor and the pure extravagance everything seemed to exude, before he finally rumbled out his opinion on the matter.

As he pushed himself off the bed and wandered over to the balcony door, Han shook his head and sighed again. “Yeah, I agree, buddy. It really is… A lot, isn’t it? No wonder the kid felt restless here. I never woulda pinned him to live in a place like this, either.” He spent a brief moment looking out at the sprawling city below him, wondering just how Luke felt every time he took in the same view, before a wry grin spread across his face. “Wanna see a little more of where your new favourite cub grew up?”

Chewie rolled his eyes. On occasion, Han would complain about how much more Chewie liked Luke than him, a joke which seemed to have worn a little thin, but the fuzzball ultimately nodded, and the two breezed out of the room to get a closer look at the wing in which they were to reside for the foreseeable future.

***

“I know, pal.”

It turned out the Imperial Palace – or, at least the sections of it they had proper access to – was not as interesting as they would have liked it to be. They were in the guest wing, of course, and had encountered far too many droids restricting access to other, more interesting sections of the building. The two could make it past if they so chose, but decidedly chose not to, if only to avoid landing on the Empress and her husband’s bad side, and to not to piss off Luke or land him in any more hot water than he might already be in. So instead, they’d settled onto an elevated veranda, sprawling and luxurious and attended by a number of other droids who sought to meet their every need, feeling every bit as though they had landed themselves in a gilded cage of their own.

“I’m not sure what the next move is either.” Chewie draped a warm, hairy arm around his shoulders, and Han was grateful for it. “I can’t live here any more than you can. It just ain’t gonna happen. Luke knows that too.”

He left the next bit unsaid, and as Chewie finished his thought for him, Han found himself wishing he didn’t understand Shyriiwook nearly as well as he did.

For a moment, he tried ignoring his first mate, but another, more insistent rumble, accompanied by a not-quite-painful squeeze to his shoulder had him groaning. “You’re right, of course. As usual. I can’t stay here, and I can’t just drag Luke away from this place. I’m not sure we get to be happy, yanno? In a perfect world, I’d just take the kid with us, travelling the galaxy, adventurin’ from place to place, non-stop.” He paused and allowed the wry smile to twist at his lips. “Pretty sure Luke wouldn’t be strictly opposed to that, either. But…”

Silence rang heavy between them, even with the bustle of the city-planet below them. On another occasion, Chewie might have chimed in with the missing thought, again, but right now, it was clear there was no need. Han wasn’t avoiding it because he didn’t want to acknowledge it; he was avoiding it because it brought a level of pain he never wanted to confront when he was only just getting closer to Luke.

At the end of the day, it was duty that came into play, before anything else.

“Ah! Captain Solo!” Han nearly jumped out of his skin at the crisp tone of the droid as it interrupted his thoughts. “Here you are. And Chewbacca! I nearly thought I had lost you.”

He had to suppress a groan as he forced a grin and faced the gleaming golden droid. “Nope. Still here. Can’t get rid of us that easily.”

“Well, that is indeed excellent,” Threepio continued, completely missing the irony. “I do believe I have found the component you were looking for. I have placed it with your ship until such a time that you may require it.”

“Well,” Han drawled, genuinely surprised the droid had found anything, given his description, “I guess I’ll just have to take a look at it next time I’m fixin’ up the Falcon, and I’ll let ya know how you did, yeah?”

Chewie chuckled softly from behind him, but the droid carried on. “Her Majesty has requested your presence, Captain Solo. I must request that you follow me.” Request was more than likely putting it mildly.

Chewie raised a brow at the droid, rumbling a soft inquiry in Shyriiwook, but Goldenrod seemed unfazed. “I apologize, Mr. Chewbacca. While I recognize your desire to accompany the Captain, the Empress has asked to speak with him alone. However, if you so choose, I may wait with you outside her chamber while they carry out their business.”

The Wookiee was losing patience with the droid almost as quickly as Han was, but Chewie had always been better at maintaining his composure. Despite his own frustrations, he growled an agreement. Both Han and Chewie followed the protocol droid to the hallway leading to the Empress’ chambers, Han being ushered in while Chewie was pointed to a position just to the side of the doorway.

“Mistress Padmé awaits you inside, Captain Solo. I advise you do not keep her waiting.”

“Yeah?” Han felt his lips contort into a wry, contrary sort of smirk. “Well, I’ll make sure I don’t. I know better than to keep a woman like that waiting.”

“Indeed, you do have some wisdom in you after all, Captain Solo.” Threepio’s voice was chipper and polite as ever, but if he didn’t know better, Han would almost think the droid was mocking him.

“Right,” he replied, face darkening slightly, before turning to his friend. “See ya later, Chewie,” he said with a nod. “Try not to tear off Goldenrod’s arms while I’m in there.” He’d lowered his voice, but not enough to go undetected by a droid’s auditory sensors, and Han took more pleasure than he probably should have in the way Threepio seemed to jump at the comment.

Striding forward, the assured steps he took into the chamber worked to conceal the anxiety that truly roiled beneath Han’s composed exterior. Something about the Empress caused his legs to turn liquid and his wits to escape him. Luke was able to disarm him with his charm and catch him off guard enough to force him into idealism; the Empress disarmed him completely with her ability to read right into the core of his being.

Actually, every member of the family seemed to share that ability. His thoughts hadn’t felt private since he’d landed on Coruscant. The Empress could see right through him, the Princess shared her mother’s eerie personal precision, the father had his own brand of intimidation, and Luke…

Luke had always been able to sense Han’s vulnerabilities. Even when it wasn’t obvious that was what he was doing, it was present enough that the kid seemingly maintained a solid connection with him no matter what. Now that Han knew just what Luke’s connections and abilities were, he couldn’t help but feel just a touch more wary of him. He’d never much believed in the Force, nor did he really know what it did, and he didn’t quite trust it.

But… he did trust Luke.

He knew just how gentle the kid could be. Despite the insecurities they both felt, despite knowing what seemed to eat at him the most… Han held faith in Luke. It made him uncertain. Han was unaccustomed to uncertainty like this. But even though he was entirely unsure what the future held, he knew he had faith. A faith he hadn’t come close to holding for years before this, but faith nonetheless. He was not about to abandon that just because he was about to face the Empress, the most powerful woman in the galaxy, and someone who could very well dismiss his existence on a whim.

“Captain.”

The door closed behind him, and Han found himself in another room that seemed overly lavish and luxurious compared to what any being actually needed. He hadn’t really noticed, but they’d moved beyond the guest wing of the Palace. The droid’s escort had been so seamless that he didn’t even realize the route they were taking was unfamiliar and led past paths that had previously been obstructed. He’d been purposely misled to this chamber, and would be escorted back to his own private room so he could not find this one again, he was sure. It instilled a growing sense of unease within him, but Han would not back down. Holding his own against the Empress was all he could do. It even seemed liable to become his greatest achievement ever.

Han was not an Imperial Loyalist. He never had been. He wasn’t a rebel, by any means, just went where the credits were, but most Imperials were fairly stingy with their credits. It was the outlaws who paid the best, and for so long, he’d pledged himself where the fortune laid. But now… well. Was it fortune that drew him to Luke? Or something else? So many could look at his history, look at Luke’s identity, and draw their own conclusions. Han Solo, smuggler, scoundrel, and Imperial Leech.

Luke had never seen that in him, though. And, well, if Luke believed in him…

“I can sense your discomfort.” The Empress’ voice was somehow both cool and warm. She had an inviting air about her, something that begged you to share your every last secret, but she never shed her nobility. Calm, collected, and in control… that was the Empress, and Han wasn’t sure he would ever stand a chance against her in any sort of battle, of the wits or otherwise. And yet, he wasn’t sure that mattered. He would hold his own against her for Luke’s sake. That much felt so certain, no matter what.

“Discomfort, Your Majesty?” Yeah, playing it off seemed like his best bet. What else was he supposed to do? Just admit to the fact that he felt uncomfortable around her? No, that was a weakness he wasn’t about to show off just yet.

It seemed, though, he couldn’t fool her. The Empress wore an expression that seemed far too similar to a predator capturing its prey, though it did not contain the same level of cruelty as one who was about to devour. No, she seemed ready to play with her food before deciding if it should be consumed immediately, or if it was worthy of keeping around for a bit longer.

“You have not shown any signs of comfort since arriving at the Palace, Captain.” Her smile grew, but as it spread, it only became more inscrutable. Han really had no idea whether it carried more welcome or intimidation with it, but he could certainly tell that it carried more. “It is my sincerest hope that you may find some level of ease within our walls. I do not wish you to be on edge for the entire duration of your stay. After all, what kind of hosts would we be if you could find no trust in us whatsoever?”

Han quirked a brow. “I really gotta say, Majesty, it ain’t nothin’ personal. Promise. Your family’s done nothing wrong to me. Got no reason to stand against ya. Plus with Luke around, I’m really not about to do anything stupid like that. But you can’t blame me for being a bit nervous. I ain’t used to dealing with big shots like your family. And I’ve got no interest in kriffin’ things up. Especially not for Luke. Kid’s been through enough. He don’t need me comin’ in to make things even worse. It was his choice to have me here, and if I didn’t think he actually wanted me anywhere near the rest of your family, you better believe I wouldn’t have agreed. Sorry to say it, but my interest in politics is almost negative, so it would take either a huge stack of credits or the word of someone I trust to get me at the Palace at all.”

Did he actually just say all that? In his head it hadn’t sounded that bad. It just sounded like his usual ramblings. But actually saying it out loud…

The Empress clutched a delicate goblet in her gloved hand. It was filled with wine, and she took a long drink out of it before setting it down and smiling at Han. “You know, Captain Solo,” she said as the glass delicately took its place atop a coaster on the end table. Han tried not to stare at the motion, or at her, or anywhere. Things were always awkward around her. "I had my doubts, but I am beginning to see what Luke sees in you. I am glad he has you." Han breathed a sigh of relief. Then the Empress had to add, "Of course, my husband does not share this response."

“Well, Majesty, can’t say I expected him to.” Han hadn’t noticed, but a droid had placed a full tumbler of Correllian Whisky next to him, and he was quick to take a swig of it before he continued. “Can’t say I expected any of you to like me at all, to be honest. Still not sure if that daughter of yours is all that sold on me, either.”

Bright peals of laughter echoed through the chamber. There was genuine joy and amusement in the Empress’ expression, and it was enough to make her seem purely human. It was likely a side of her that only the closest and most intimate of associates would see from someone so regal. He’d seen the holos. The whole galaxy had. She was gentle yet stoic, kind yet solemn, genuine yet guarded… She was what you would expect a beloved Empress to be. But this – this seemed to be who she really was, and an unexpected warmth bloomed in Han’s chest at experiencing it. Maybe… maybe he wasn’t so doomed here, after all, if he’d won over the most powerful woman in the galaxy.

Maybe he’d have a chance at winning over the old man…

“My dear captain, you do understand my children well, I must say.” The light remained in her eyes, and Han could practically feel the tension in his shoulders unwind – though, that could very well be the whisky’s work. “Winning over Leia is no easy feat, but I think you have a better chance than most. She worries for her brother. And I assure you, it isn’t personal.” Clever woman, using his own defense against him. “You took her brother’s attention and caused him to be away from her. She was worried sick and missed her twin. It is not your fault – my son has always been reckless and acts of his own accord – but she resented you before she even knew who you were. Please be patient. Luke adores you. She will come to accept you no matter what. Even if she does not choose to show it.”

Han finished the last of his whisky, grimacing a bit at the thought of the princess. She resembled her mother a fair bit and had been seen in public with the Empress more often than Luke ever had been. The twins didn’t look all that much alike, really, especially when seen separately. While together, though, the similarities shone through. Similar mannerisms, expressions, body language… and they definitely interacted like siblings. Seeing them in this capacity left no doubt in his mind that the twins were, well, twins. But the princess always seemed far more like The Princess than Luke ever did The Prince.

The Empress took another sip from her goblet and her eyes settled on the dark liquid within. “My son has always been more trusting than his sister. He has a gentle heart. I know the dangers he faces because of it. That gentle heart is far too fragile for his own good, and while I know that Luke is strong… well. We all know that Luke is strong. He is not some delicate, withering flower that will crumble to pieces with a strong gust of wind. He is trusting, though, and will offer up that most vulnerable and breakable part of himself far more readily than any of us would prefer.” She paused, emptying the contents of her glass before setting it down and meeting Han’s eyes with a piercing, imperious gaze.

“The unease my family feels around you isn’t personal, Captain Solo. Neither we nor you have any reason for it to be, correct? But our concern stems largely from Luke himself. We know his nature, and when he left Coruscant for such a prolonged period of time, we all worked ourselves into a frenzy of worry about just what harm he might bring upon himself. Physical danger concerns us, of course, our family has guards for a reason, even given our own martial prowess. But Luke’s emotional state, especially when he’d fled searching for freedom… you understand why we would be concerned, yes?”

Han just nodded, wishing he had another glass of whisky.

“My husband may not be swayed just yet. Your status as a smuggler certainly does not help, either.” She really knew how to reassure him when it came to tall, dark and terrifying… “The best way to win him over, however, is to continue as you are. Make Luke happy. That is all we desire for him, first and foremost, and the finer points of status can be discussed at a later date.”

Han met her gaze with gritted determination and nodded sharply. “I will, Your Majesty. Swear on the Falcon. I will not let the kid down.”

“Good,” she replied, humour in her voice while intensity remained in her gaze. “See that you don’t. Farewell, Captain Solo. Until next time.”

#han solo #chewbacca #padme naberrie #Padmé Naberrie #padme admidala #skysolo #han and chewie #imperial royal skywalker family au #c3po #wow it sure has been a while #since I've posted anything #I've had this sitting for a while #it needed heavy editing #and I'm still not sure I'm happy with it #but hey!#han and padme

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biqherosix · 4 years ago

Text

the challenges we’re facing - part two

angst, fluff

(the legend of korra — romantic! mako x waterbender! reader)

after months of constant forgiveness for other people and yourself, it's time to consider the next step: forgiving and overcoming your fears

cw / fire

a/n — haha didn’t think i’d grow to like this one but i did ! part two is kinda meh but i missed them <3 enjoy ! btw on a side note i miss mako and kyoshi warrior reader,,, i should get on them again-

eight months. eight months of slow, lingering touches, jinora's never ending wisdom, and much meditating later, the nightmares slowly ceased and you began to open yourself up again. eight months after your outburst in the pavilion with mako, you knew you were ready to take the next step in your healing.

though you never admitted it out loud to anyone, they knew. they thought about it every time pema made a hot cup of tea, when lightning storms rained through republic city, and when mako simply held a scarce flame in his palms.

but you were confident, and held your head up high. taking a deep breath, you made your way to jinora and mako. they seemed to be in a heated argument, the stern glares towards each other giving it away. and their loud discourse of course.

“mako, i respect your opinion, but how can you hate noren when he had a solid redemption arc?!" she asked.

“are we reading the same book? he fell in love and that was a horrible take at redemption! they could have at least backed up his arc with actions to prove he was a better person!" he exclaimed, pointing to a page in the book. the girl placed her hands on her hips, tilting her head up towards the firebender in intimidation. he wasn't fazed. you halted in your tracks, bursting out into laughter at the sight. their attention diverted towards you, clutching your hand towards your stomach. you tried ceasing your laughter, but it only made it worse as tears sprung out of your eyes and you wheezed endlessly. jinora now crossed her arms amused, and mako looked to you with an raised eyebrow. you let out a delighted sigh, walking over to your two favorite people.

"you wanna tell us what's so funny y/n?" mako asked, instantly wrapping his pinky with yours. you smiled, giggling.

“i don't have to, but if i must. you were really about to fight a sixteen year old, huh? i mean okay i get wanting to throw kai off air temple island sometimes, but jinora? how could you hurt this face?" you pouted, pulling the girl in front of you. she smiled widely, and he rolled his eyes.

“i could have gotten away with it if you didn't meddle." he joked, and you all laughed. jinora turned around to face you, curiosity filling her eyes.

"wait, you said you were going to hang out with kai while mako and i finished up our discussion. where is he?" she asked. your eyes widened, and you rubbed the back of your neck.

“well, i kind of told him ikki needed a sparring partner and now they're gossiping in the meditation pavilion."

"y/n!"

"i know! not my best idea jinora, but i really needed to talk to you. of course, i didn't think i would walk into an almost warzone, but this is actually important." you let go of mako, sitting down. they followed suit, mako sitting next to you and jinora across from you. a pit in their stomach formed. their looks of concern made you want to back out right now.

"y/n? are you okay? is there anything wrong?" jinora laid a hand on yours. you felt the warmth creeping up on you. lightly wincing, you exhaled.

"i don't exactly know how to say this…ugh i didn't think this was going to be so hard, it's literally just you two!" you facepalmed, and mako laid a hand on your back.

“hey, remember what we talked about? you can be open with your feelings! no one here will judge you." jinora assured, taking a quick glare to the firebender before gesturing to the air. you buried your face in your hands. mumbles came out, and they moved their heads closer to you.

“hey, we can't help you if we can't hear you." he spoke up softly, running his fingers through your hair.

"i want to get over my fear of fire. i think i'm finally ready." you sighed defeatedly. mako's eyes widened and jinora smiled. she was about to respond when the boy stood.

“oh i uh just forgot, jinora we have to go help your parents with lunch! come on, we don't want a yelling tenzin in the kitchen. yeah, sorry y/n! we'll talk later, yeah?" he rushed out, kissing your forehead lightly before taking jinora's hand. you waved bye, shaking your head.

"i knew this was a bad idea." you muttered, taking jinora's book before heading over to join ikki and kai at the pavilion.

"wait, mako. my book!" she was going to run back when he gripped her shoulder. he shook his head.

"y/n grabbed it, kai can give it back later." he huffed, pulling her back and wrapping an arm around her shoulders. she crossed her arms, looking up to the boy.

"okay, what's wrong now?" she asked.

"nothing's wrong!" mako flustered.

“you're a horrible liar. i know that my dad doesn't even walk into the kitchen. and mako, i think you're great. really, i do! but you blew y/n off after they told us some amazing news! aren't you happy for them?" she elbowed his rib, and he winced.

"of course i'm happy for y/n!" uncertainty filled her features.

"i don't believe you, so you should tell me before i take my book back on team avatar..

"okay okay! jeez, when did you get so bossy?"

"always have been, just never to you. now, tell me." he facepalmed.

“it's just, don't you think it's too soon? i mean, it took y/n six months just to look me in the eye. but fire? it's a completely different story; there are so many possibilities. some days they're fine with the warmth, other days they can't even bring themselves to wear a jacket when it's cold because of what i did. they could get hurt again if we start the wrong way. then we're back at square one" mako frowned, and jinora elbowed him again.

“progress has never been linear, mako. look at korra! it took her three years to overcome her trauma. she thought she was ready and wasn't, so she took more time get better. it's an amazing feat it only took y/n six months to be able to talk to you. and we shouldn't make an effort to compare their traumas because they're so different, but valid nonetheless" she explained with a sly smile.

"okay, but who's going to teach y/n if we plan on doing this?" he asked aloud, and the girl looked up to him defeatedly.

“sometimes i wonder how you can be so intelligent and dense at the same time." she deadpanned. he gave her a pointed look.

"jinora...whatever you're thinking. i don't support it. i was joking" she wrapped her arms around his middle, giving him a shake.

"come on, you're the only firebender we know!" she exclaimed.

"that's a lie and you know it." her nose crinkled at his response.

“fine, you're the only firebender on air temple island we know!" jinora compromised, and he smirked.

"that doesn't make it any better for the both of us."

“you're so- you’re so difficult!" she stammered out, glaring at him again.

"as i've been told," he shrugged. she groaned, sending a light wave of air to his face.

"mako, just please think about it. we've supported y/n for this long now, we should let them try at the very least. if it makes you feel better, i can talk to opal and see if we can find any alternatives to this. though, you know better than anyone that you can't read your way out of overcoming a fear; you actually have to experience it." she huffed, waving to kai and ikki.

“now, you're lucky i'm not busting you just to spend time with kai and ikki. let's sit out in the kitchen and continue our discussion on noren. i am determined to prove you wrong!" she removed herself from him, taking his forearm and speed walking. he chuckled weakly, letting her words ring through his mind.

after mako's horrible attempt at lying and waiting out in the kitchens, he managed to excuse himself from everyone for the rest of the day. sitting in his room, he fiddled with a trinket ikki had given him. it had been hours since jinora called him out on his fear, something he was actually grateful for. looking outside his window, he cracked a smile at the swirling colors of the sky, and a few airbender kids gliding through it. as they waved to him, he saluted them back, a knock interrupting them. he pointed to the door and they nodded in understanding before playing again. he slid his door open, only to come face to face with you. oh, he was in for it now.

“can we talk? and this time i'm not letting you push me away." you tilted your head, and walked in at the slghtest nod. sitting on his bed, you smiled at the trinket.

"cute." you avoided his gaze, but started talking when you felt him sit beside you.

"you know i would have understood if you didn't think it was a good idea for me to overcome my fear of fire yet. i know i've had my off days about it too. but we're in this together, mako. you shouldn't be able to hide things from me, or walk out on me, especially now." you explained, moving closer to him. you placed a hand on his thigh.

"if i've learned anything from jinora through this whole thing, it's that we should at least try. and i'm sorry, i shouldn't have acted the way i did. truthfully, i was...scared." he admitted hesitantly. he let out a breath, crossing his arms. you looked to him.

"why would you be scared? i mean, of course it's valid of you, but why?"

“because…” he groaned.

"that's not a reason, fire boy." you mocked, deja vu washing over you two.

"it'd mean i'd have to help you overcome your fear. and i don't want you to think of me as the same brainwashed mako from back then. i don't want to push you too hard." your arms were now touching by how close you two were. you grimaced, taking his hand in yours.

"these last few months, you've done everything you could to prove that what happened back then would never happen again. i think i'm the most qualified person here to say i'm not scared of you anymore!" you exclaimed. he pinched the bridge of his nose.

"i'm not going to lie to you, this won't be easy. but if i told you i would have helped you from the beginning despite my feelings, would that have made you feel better?" he asked, and you appeared puzzled.

"wait, what are you saying?"

"i'm saying i'm with you. i'm gonna help you."

help, he did. after your initial shock upon his agreement ("why couldn't you have started with that?! jeez it would have saved us a whole conversation. at least our feelings are in the open."), it took you and mako at least another week to mentally prepare yourselves. and another three months to get you used to the heat. but it had been smooth sailing from there and you couldn't have been more grateful.

“you've been learning well. i'm proud of you." he would say after a respectful bow at the end of the lesson.

"thanks." you would respond, along with a soft hug or squeeze of the hand. but tonight would be different.

you stood on opposite sides of the airbending arena, taking protective stances.

“you sure you're ready for this? after i throw a punch, there's not much turning back." you rolled your eyes.

"mako, you're forgetting we used to be probenders! you said it yourself, i've progressed well. now hit me!"

“sprits i'm going to regret this." he muttered, before throwing a flame off course. turns out mako didn't have anything to regret. you moved away from it quickly with no expression of fear. the heat made you sweat, but it didn't bother you anymore. this had gone on for several hours. his flames only got brighter as yue's spirit shined over you both. serenity and power washed over you again, and he smiled.

“think that's enough for the night?" a flame flickered, the light kissing your faces. you shook your head.

“there's one more thing i wanted to try today actually." you leaned in, and he pulled away clearing his throat.

"and what is it...that you want to try?" he began to wince at your smirk.

“i want you to throw fire at me. straight at me." you stated, and he shook his head.

"what? why would i do that?!" he exclaimed. you placed a hand on his shoulder, the other bending your water above you.

“i know this isn't ideal for the both of us, but you said it yourself. we should always at least try!" you pouted, and he furrowed his eyebrows.

“okay but that doesn't mean i should throw fire at you right away. we've only been throwing fire around for a few days at most!"

"mako, trust me. the hardest part through all of this was trying to open up to you again. i can do this." you reassured, and he sighed. kissing your forehead, he lightly pushed you back. your eyes lit up and you took another step back. water at the ready, he took a deep breath before nodding. when the red flames were aimed towards you, you stumbled back. mako's eyes widened at your wince. he was ready to disperse the flames, but you stood your ground. stretching your arms out, the water acted as your shield. you closed your eyes as if that would shield you any better. awaiting the impact, it never came as mako halted his tracks when a loud sizzle filled the air and steam covered up the arena.

you opened your eyes to a shocked mako and a whole lot of steam. you inhaled much of it due to excitement and started coughing. the firebender made his way over to you. gripping a hand to your shoulder, he gave you a once over. patting your back, your coughs ceased and you looked up to him, his amber eyes standing out against all the smoke you caused. you pulled him into a hug.

"i did it!"

“yeah, you did."

his eyes flinched at the sudden contact, and he patted you on the back awkwardly. you pulled away before smiling. in a spur of the moment you grabbed the collar of his shirt, pulling his lips to yours. mako's eyes widened. it had been a little under two years since you had initiated any heavy physical contact. if anything, he had been more than content with the light forehead kisses and interlocking pinkies. mako had just wanted to respect your boundaries. but this, he didn't realize he had craved this moment more than anything.

kissing back, one hand caressed your waist as the other held the back of your head. he wondered if this was truly real, pulling you as close as he possibly could. when you pulled away, you wrapped your arms around his neck, pressing your foreheads together.

"wait okay, what was that?" he asked.

“um, a kiss?" you raised an eyebrow, and he facepalmed.

“well yeah i know, but why?"

"oh uh, spur of the moment thing i guess. but, it was nice. i've missed this." you smiled, and so did he.

"think you can do it again?" he asked sheepishly, a tint of red coating his cheeks. you laughed, pinching his cheeks.

"aw, is mako touch starved?" you joked, resting your hand on his chest. he rolled his eyes. he pulled himself away from you, taking a step back. "wait, no i'm sorry! i was kidding! i just...didn't think you were ready to head back into that again. we've been taking it slow for so long i guess i felt like you weren't ready to try to get back to the old us again." you pulled him back with a defeated look, maintaining a grip on his arm. he softened, and shook his head.

“y/n, we've been in this together for who knows how long now. i didn't want to push you back then, and i didn't want to push you now. but you have to remember i'd wait for you and i've got your back. i'm ready when you are." he smiled, trailing his fingers down your face. you flustered at his touch. leaning in again, your lips barely brushed when you pulled away with a smirk.

“you're gonna have to work for it. race you to the dining area for dinner!" you exclaimed, before making a dash towards your designated location. he froze, but shook his head at your antics. following suit, he thought about what this meant for you both. two years of challenges and hardships could now be put past you, and it was time to embrace what you had in front of you. he knew that though this challenge was coming to a close, new ones were bound to pop up when you were a part of team avatar. but as long as you trusted each other, you could get through just about anything.

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annewritesfic · 4 years ago

Text

Happy Endings Don’t Exist

i sat down and worked on this for the last FIVE HOURS y’all better appreciate it

based on chapters 4, 6, 9, and 10 of scarlet by marissa meyer

tw: mentions of gun, knives, blood, attempted murder... i think that’s it but lemme know if i missed anything

word count: 7266

The incarceration of Captain Farrah Thorne had gotten off to a rocky start.

(Farrah was fully aware, of course, that technically she’d been only a cadet when she’d gone on the run, but captain just sounded better.)

After the soap rebellion, Farrah had been put in solitary confinement, but she’d managed to sweet talk one of the guards into giving her their port screen. It was honestly probably because the guard thought Farrah was an idiot and wouldn’t be able to do anything with it, but no matter the reason, Farrah was now sitting cross-legged on her bed, fidgeting with the port screen.

Of course, the guard was right about Farrah not being able to do anything with the port screen.

She’d had it for several hours now and still hadn’t accessed her comms, any news feeds, or anything else useful. Looking up “how to break out of a high-security prison using only a port screen” probably wouldn’t get her anywhere, so now she was just absentmindedly entering the names of people she used to know, wondering where they were now.

The cell was painfully, obviously quiet, but slowly, Farrah noticed the sound of what almost seemed like a drill, coming from the ceiling. She looked up and briefly scanned the room, but there wasn’t much to see - the same plain, shiny white walls. If the prison was remodeling, Farrah hoped her cell was next.

The drill noise suddenly came louder, clearly directly above Farrah’s cell, and she watched curiously as one of the ceiling tiles was removed and someone jumped down, landing in a crouch and facing the wall opposite Farrah. The someone had messy brown hair tied in a ponytail, a crumpled white prison uniform, and one bare foot… and one metal foot. In fact, Farrah realized that the person’s left hand was plated with metal, too, and one finger had a screwdriver sticking out of the tip.

“Hello,” she said pleasantly. The cyborg jumped and slipped, turning to look at Farrah. “It seems you’ve stumbled into the wrong jail cell. Do you need directions to get back to yours?”

The cyborg narrowed her eyes at Farrah. “What…?”

Farrah smiled charmingly.

“These cells aren’t supposed to be occupied,” the cyborg said. Her voice was a little bit hoarse, like they hadn’t spoken in awhile.

“Special circumstances.”

“You’re not a murderer, are you?”

“Stars, no.” Farrah popped her collar proudly. “I started a riot in the yard. We were protesting the soap.”

The cyborg stared at her.

“The soap,” Farrah said again. “It’s way too drying. I have sensitive skin.”

“Huh,” the cyborg said, turning away. They stood up and kicked the fallen floor tile to the side, looking around, then knocked the side of her head with the heel of their human hand. “Stupid, stupid… one room off.”

Farrah watched them press a hand against the wall and blink a few times, like there was something stuck in their eye. “You’re escaping, aren’t you?”

“Not at this very moment, but that is the general idea, yes.” The cyborg sighed frustratedly, then spotted the port screen in Farrah’s hand. “Hey, what model is that?”

“I have absolutely no idea,” Farrah said honestly.

The cyborg crossed the room and snatched it out of her hand. “I need your vid cable.”

“My what?”

“Your vid cable. Mine’s on the fritz.” The cyborg sat cross-legged in the center of the room, port screen in her lap. Farrah realized that the screwdriver in their metal hand was a drill, and she watched curiously as the cyborg used it to remove the back panel and pulled out a yellow wire. She kicked the port screen aside and reached up to the back of their neck, unlatching a panel there. After a moment of fidgeting, the cyborg pulled out a blackened wire and then replaced it with the yellow one from Farrah’s port screen. She tossed the blackened wire aside and sighed, a brief smile crossing their lips. “Ugh, that’s so much better.”

Farrah picked up the port screen, mind whirling. “You have a port screen in your head?”

“Something like that.” The cyborg began running a hand across the wall. Farrah watched her pry one of the panels off the wall, and tried to make small talk, but the cyborg ignored her.

“When they locked you up, didn’t they think that maybe there were some… security weaknesses with you?” Farrah asked.

The cyborg sighed, sitting back on their heels and blowing a strand of hair out of her eyes. “There weren’t. The hand is new.” They stared at the open wall for a moment, thinking.

“You wouldn’t happen to be convicted of breaking and entering?” Farrah said, only half joking.

The cyborg rolled her eyes. “If you really have to know, two counts of treason, resisting arrest, and unlawful use of biolectricity. Oh, and illegal immigration, but I kind of think that’s a little excessive.”

Farrah squinted at her. “How old are you?”

“Sixteen.”

“How the hell-”

“It’s really complicated and I don’t wanna talk about it,” the cyborg snapped.

“O-kay.” Farrah sat back. “By the way, what’s your name?”

No response. The cyborg kept doing… whatever they were doing behind the panel.

“I’m Captain Farrah Thorne,” she said. “Most people call me Thorne, though. Or Captain. Or Captain Thorne-”

“Kate,” the cyborg said. “Just Kate.”

“Wonderful to make your acquaintance!” Farrah smiled brightly. “Are you in need of an accomplice? Because I happen to be a criminal mastermind-”

“Go away.”

“Um.” Farrah looked around the small, one-room cell. “Where?”

Kate closed her eyes for a moment, took a deep breath, then kept working.

“What’s your plan for when you get out?” Farrah asked.

“The most direct route out of the city is north,” Kate muttered. White flecks of plastic from the wall dusted their dark hair, but she didn’t seem to notice.

“Oh, my poor, sweet, naive little convict,” Farrah tutted. “That’s exactly what they’ll be expecting from you!”

“Please stop distracting me.”

“We might be able to help each other!”

“Leave me alone.”

“I have a ship.”

Kate actually looked at her.

“A spaceship,” Farrah said in a sing-song voice.

“A spaceship,” Kate repeated doubtfully.

“Yep!”

The cyborg paused, as if reading something on the wall behind Farrah. “It wouldn’t happen to be a stolen ship from the American Republic?”

“Yeah, how did you…” Farrah trailed off, then grinned and tapped the side of her head. “Port screen in the head?”

“The Republic hasn’t found the ship yet?”

“Nope. At least, I hope not. Stripped the tracking equipment, and it’s hiding in a warehouse over by the plague quarantines.” Farrah raised an eyebrow. “So? Need that accomplice?”

Kate said nothing and turned back to the wall.

“You look exhausted,” Farrah commented. “Need a back rub?”

Kate jolted upwards with a growl and whipped around to face Farrah. “Please, just-- just stop talking. Leave me alone.”

Farrah gasped a little and fell back against the wall, mind whirling. Kate’s image wavered just a bit, like heat in a desert, and Farrah’s heartbeat sped up, her head filling with thoughts of worship and devotion and surrender.

She was beautiful. Divine. Perfect.

“All right,” Farrah said slowly. “Anything you’d like.” She turned to face away from Kate, eyes watering, and the silence settled over both of them. Farrah and the cyborg, prison mate, goddess.

FARRAH THORNE

ID #0082688359

BORN 4 JUNE 106 T.E., AMERICAN REPUBLIC

FF 437 MEDIA HITS, REVERSE CHRON

POSTED 12 JAN 126 T.E.: EX-AIR FORCE CADET, FARRAH THORNE, HAS BEEN CONVICTED AND SENTENCED TO A SIX-YEAR PRISON SENTENCE AT THE END OF A SPEEDY TWO-WEEK TRIAL…

The green text scrolled across Kate’s vision without prompting, showing them a detailed record of the crimes of the annoying convict sitting just ten feet away. Despite only having turned twenty a few months ago, Farrah Thorne was guilty of one count of military desertion, two counts of international theft, one count of attempted theft, six counts of handling stolen goods, and one count of theft of government property.

“Government property” didn’t seem to do justice to the fact that Farrah Thorne had stolen a spaceship from the American Republic military. The spaceship she was so proud of.

She was currently about six months into her six year sentence in the Eastern Commonwealth (for attempted theft of a second-era jade necklace), but she was also wanted in Australia and, of course, America, and after this sentence was completed, would be standing trial and serving time in those countries as well.

Kate didn’t pause their work to think, even though her mind was racing. Escaping from prison was one thing, but could she really aid the escape of this actual, real criminal, in a stolen spaceship?

It’s a whole lot harder to find a criminal in space than on Earth, their mind tempted. Kate scowled and shoved away the thought.

Behind them, Farrah Thorne sat on the little white cot, chin resting in both hands, staring at the wall. Kate only risked half a glance back every few minutes - just looking at her made them feel guilty.

Leave me alone.

The words had tasted like fire, like ashes and burning and smoke. That heat had spread through Kate’s veins again - not as painful as it had been at the ball, but still not comfortable, either. She was pretty sure that using her gift - a genetic trait Lunars were born with that allowed them to sense and manipulate the biolectricity of other living creatures - wasn’t supposed to burn like that, but it was probably just a side effect of using it again for the first time in years. Probably for the first time ever, really. Kate didn’t know much about the Lunar gift, but it seemed unlikely that a three year old would be able to control it, and she’d only lived on Luna until they were that old.

Thirteen years ago, though, Queen Levana had tried to murder Princess Selene.

She’d tried to murder Kate.

By some miracle, Kate had survived and was smuggled down to Earth, and now thirteen years later, the lost Lunar princess was kneeling in a jail cell, white flakes of plastic decorating her white prison jumpsuit, the drill implanted in their metal hand helping her break out of New Beijing prison.

Literally, what the fuck?

Dr Erland had figured it out weeks ago, but had only decided to tell them less than twenty four hours ago, after Levana had recognized them at the annual peace ball and threatened war if Kate wasn’t immediately thrown in jail for being an illegal Lunar emigrant. Dr Erland had decided that was the perfect time to pay Kate a visit, give her a new foot (seeing as theirs had fallen off on the palace steps), a fancy new cyborg hand with the latest attachments, the biggest shock of her entire life, and instructions to meet him in Africa. Right. Easy-peasy. Break out of a high-security prison and meet a crazy doctor in Africa.

Kate risked another glance back at Farrah, still sitting on the cot with that dazed smile. A spaceship would make it easier to get to Africa…

Still, just looking at Farrah brought back that flash of guilt, and Kate had to turn away.

She hadn’t meant to use their gift on Farrah. They were still learning how to use it. It took three tries to convince a guard to move her to a more convenient cell, and shutting Farrah up had been completely on accident - she’d just wanted Farrah to stop talking for ten seconds, and the heat of their gift had surged from the base of her neck and spread to her fingertips and leaked into her voice, prompting Farrah to do…

To do exactly what Kate wanted her to do.

It hadn’t felt good. It made Kate feel awful and guilty and like the worst person on Earth - stars, how could Lunars stand having this gift, let alone love it the way they did?

I don’t want to have this gift. I don’t want to be Lunar.

I just… wanna be the old me again.

Kate pushed away their spiraling thoughts and stood up, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. Farrah looked up at them with wide eyes, sitting up eagerly.

“I’m sorry I manipulated you,” Kate said, the words coming out a little bit jumbled. They tried again, slower this time. “It was an abuse of power and it wasn’t fair. I’m sorry.”

Farrah frowned. “Are you the same person who was just here?”

“Yeah…?”

“Oh.” Farrah looked her up and down. “You seemed a whole lot prettier before.”

A little bit of Kate’s guilt faded away. “Listen, Cadet-”

“Captain,” Farrah corrected.

“Cadet,” Kate repeated forcefully. “You can come with me if we make it to your ship, and if you try not to talk so much.”

Farrah eagerly stood up, almost losing her balance for a moment. “Sick!”

Kate glanced back at the hole they’d created, having found the entrance to the air ducts. “So this ship of yours is the one you stole from the American Republic, right?”

“I prefer borrowed. They didn’t exactly have proof I wasn’t gonna give it back.”

Kate immediately began to regret this.

“And you’re sure the ship isn’t traceable?” they asked.

“Of course I’m sure.” Farrah tossed her hair over one shoulder. “I told you, I removed all the tracking equipment immediately.”

“Oh, that reminds me.” Kate held up her left hand and ejected the stiletto knife in the thumb. “We need to remove your ID chip. Hope you’re not squeamish.”

Farrah’s eyes widened, but she closed her eyes and held her wrist out. “Please try not to hit anything important, okay?”

Kate quickly removed the ID chip and tossed it aside, then cut a strip of cloth from Farrah’s sleeve for her to wrap around the wound. There was already a scar there, probably from where she’d cut out her ID chip the last time she’d been on the run.

Farrah pressed the cloth against the cut on her wrist and grinned at Kate. “Is it just me, or is this a big moment in our relationship?”

Kate glared at her. “Do not make me regret this.”

The air duct was cramped and hot and uncomfortable. Kate’s metal leg scraped against the bottom of it every time they crawled forward. Farrah, to her credit, stayed quiet, but Kate was so agitated that even just her breathing was annoying. Any sound ran the risk of getting them caught. Honestly, it was a surprise they hadn’t already been caught.

Kate checked the clock in her head. She’d left their cell thirty two minutes ago.

The prison blueprint glowed brightly on the retina display over the dark air duct, a tiny blue dot representing Kate and displaying where exactly they were - and with Farrah in tow.

Stars, Kate had to sneak both of them out safely. This was going to be hard enough on their own, how was she supposed to get both of them out?

You could glamour her.

Kate bit their lip. That was true… she could convince Farrah that she wanted to tell them exactly where her ship was, then make her decide that she didn’t want to come after all. Farrah wouldn’t have a choice but to listen.

“You good?” Farrah asked softly.

Kate shook her head just a tiny bit. No, they wouldn’t glamour her. Not again. She’d made it sixteen years just fine without a Lunar gift, and they’d be fine without it now.

“I’m fine, just… checking the blueprint,” she whispered back to Farrah. “Almost there.”

“Bluepri- ohhh, port screen-”

“In my head, yes.” Kate rounded the corner and saw a grate just a few feet ahead, casting a checkered square of light into the duct. “Okay, that’s it.”

Slowly, carefully, Kate crawled over the grate and then awkwardly turned around so both of them could look down. Below was a loading dock, where food and other supplies were brought in for the prisoners, and almost directly below the grate, a storm drain, exactly where Kate’s blueprint promised it would be. The drop was a full story, and there was concrete below, but besides that, this was almost going to be easy.

“The exit ramp should be that way,” Farrah whispered, pointing.

Kate shook their head. “No, we’ve got to get into that storm drain.”

“We’re going through the sewer?”

“What, did you think we’d just walk to your ship in broad daylight wearing bright white prison uniforms?” Kate rolled their eyes. “The sewer is our only way out.”

Farrah started to reply, but the sound of voices below made both of them duck away from the grate, out of sight.

“I didn’t see her dancing with the cyborg, my sister did. Her dress was soaking wet and wrinkled like a garbage bag.”

“But why would the empress dance with a cyborg? And then for them to go off and attack the Lunar queen like that… no way. Your sister was seeing things. I bet she was just some crazy who wandered in off the street, bitter over some cyborg injustice or whatever.”

The conversation cut off at the sound of a delivery ship. Kate bit their tongue at the voices shit-talking them and dared to peek over the grate again. The delivery ship passed by below, backing towards the loading bay and coming to a stop directly below where Kate and Farrah crouched in the duct. Kate took advantage of the noise and unscrewed the grate’s screws, then Farrah carefully lifted it up and to the side. Kate ignored the way their heart was thundering and carefully moved lower, looking down to get a better view, and saw, just a foot away, a rotating camera.

Kate jerked back up and crouched lower automatically, her retina display recommending deep breaths to calm down. The camera wasn’t facing their direction, thank God, but between the camera and the delivery workers unloading below, there was no way they’d make it to the storm drain undetected. And every second brought the risk of a guard discovering their empty cells - twice as many empty cells as Kate had planned to leave behind.

They made a decision and, without leaving time to question it, slowly and carefully reached their cyborg hand out, palm flat against the ceiling, and felt around for a moment before finding the camera’s lens. The plastic crushed easily in her bionic fist, the crunching noise terrifyingly loud.

“What the hell was that?” Farrah hissed.

“Camera.” Kate listened for a moment, but none of the workers below seemed to have noticed. “Time to go. We probably only have a few seconds before they realize they’re missing a camera.” Kate took a deep breath, pulled herself over the edge, and dropped down onto the roof of the delivery ship. Farrah followed.

Kate’s metal leg clanged loudly against the roof of the ship, and the whole thing shook on both impacts, immediately drawing the attention of all three workers. For a moment, the five of them just stared at each other, but then one of the workers reached for the port screen on his belt.

Kate focused for a moment, and the man’s hand never reached his port screen, hovering in the air just above it instead.

“Don’t,” they hissed, pushing away the guilt. The fire began to spread through her body again, but they ignored it, mind whirling.

Turn around.

They did.

Close your eyes.

They did.

Cover your ears.

They did.

Hum.

They did.

Farrah gaped at Kate. “What are they doing?”

“Obeying,” Kate muttered over the buzz of the humming. Hopefully that would keep them from hearing the storm drain open and realizing where the two escaping convicts had gone, and that was the only thought that kept Kate from releasing them, even as the guilt and the hatred of this stupid goddamn gift began to spread alongside the fire.

The fall into the storm drain was about as far as the fall onto the ship, but this time, Kate almost gagged at the sensation of the oily water against their bare foot. She envied Farrah’s shoes as she landed beside them, replacing the grate, and then they both turned to the round concrete tunnel beside them. It was only waist height and stunk like garbage and mildew, but Kate set their jaw and crawled into it.

“Ew, oh my God, that’s disgusting! Get it off me!”

Kate nearly slipped in their haste to turn around and look back at Farrah, who was jumping and squirming in the cramped tunnel, shrieking. Kate’s embedded flashlight flicked upward to the ceiling, and the cluster of cockroaches made her shudder, but they turned away and kept going.

“A cockroach won’t kill you,” they called.

“It’s in my fucking uniform-”

“Be quiet, there’s a manhole up ahead.”

“And we’re exiting through that manhole, right?”

Kate scoffed.

The idea of a cockroach in their shirt did make her shiver a bit, but Farrah’s squeamishness wasn’t as important as the map of the sewer system overlaid on top of their vision, guiding her to the warehouse where Farrah swore her ship was.

Plus, Kate was walking through ankle-deep sludge with one bare foot. That was easily worse than a thousand cockroaches.

“Wait, what's that noise?” Farrah asked.

“The combined main line,” Kate answered just as the worst stench Kate had ever had the displeasure of experiencing reached them.

“Aces and spades,” Farrah said, choking. “That had better not be what I think it is.”

“We’re not just gonna be walking through surface water runoff soon,” Kate said simply.

“You’re joking. For the love of fuck, tell me you’re joking.”

Despite the stench, Kate smirked.

That smirk didn’t last long as the stink got worse. They both took shallow breaths, but Farrah had her shirt over her nose by the time they reached the sewer connection. Kate’s flashlight washed across the edge of a concrete wall, then against the metal grate on the far edge. It was stable enough for maintenance workers, although unfortunately covered in rat droppings - although the rat droppings were easily preferable to the churning, brown, two-meter river of sludge between them and the grate. Kate hadn’t eaten since before leaving the apartment building before the ball, which was the only reason she didn’t vomit from the stench.

“Alright, ready?” She inched closer to the edge. “The faster we do this, the faster it’s over with.”

“Wait- no, no, what the hell are you doing?”

“What do you think?”

Farrah almost backed up against the wall, but thought better of it when she felt the slime there. “I’m not walking through that. Don’t you have some sort of gadget in that fancy hand of yours that could get us across?”

Kate rolled their eyes and glared. “Oh, wow, thanks for reminding me about my grappling hook.”

The water, thankfully, only went up to their thighs, but Kate still barely managed not to gag as they crossed, the current surprisingly strong against her legs. Something squished under her foot, and Kate almost screamed. Thankful for the weight of her metal leg keeping them from losing her balance, Kate made it to the other side and crawled up onto the grate, still taking shallow breaths even as they began to get light headed.

“Okay,” they shouted across to Farrah. “You either cross, or you can go back and serve the rest of your sentence, but you have to decide right now.”

Farrah gulped, staring at Kate’s legs. They risked a glance down and pushed away the wave of nausea at the way the stark white pants now clung, greenish-brown and sopping wet, to their legs.

“Are you coming?” Kate shouted.

Farrah scrunched her face up and muttered a series of creative curses, then lowered herself into the sewage and trudged across, still muttering curses the entire time. She finally made it to the grate and heaved herself up beside Kate, glaring daggers. “That was the worst thing I’ve ever had to do.”

“That’s what you get for complaining about the soap,” Kate said lightly. “Which way?”

Farrah pressed her lips together, thinking. “It was near the old Beihai Park, whichever way that was.”

“You mean we didn’t have to cross that river?”

Farrah’s eyes widened. “What?”

Kate smirked again. “Only messing with you. C’mon, this way.”

“How long have we been walking?” Farrah asked as they started down the tunnel. “Feels like hours.”

Kate checked her internal clock. “Twelve minutes.”

“Bullshit.”

Kate saved their breath and didn’t answer. To Farrah’s credit, it did sort of feel like they’d been walking for a few lifetimes, hearing the sounds of rats skittering past and water dripping from the ceiling. Kate’s flashlight glistened on the slimy walls, and they passed another manhole before finally making it to the one by Beihai Park.

“We’re about a block away from the park,” Kate said, putting a hand and a foot on the ladder. “Does West Yunxin sound familiar?”

Farrah squinted. “I think?”

Kate rolled their eyes and started to climb. She pushed the manhole cover up and to the side, almost gasping at the sudden gust of fresh air, before a hover glided overhead. Kate ducked down below the manhole, heart pounding at the lights atop the vehicle, but then it turned a corner and the red cross painted on the side revealed itself as a medical hover, not a police one, easing Kate’s fearful vision of androids with cold, emotionless voices and brain-interface-overriding tasers. The old warehouse district was near the plague quarantines, so it made sense that there were medical hovers.

Kate glanced to make sure the road was deserted before pulling themself up and into the sun, uniform glaringly bright against the pavement. Farrah followed and replaced the manhole cover, and Kate crossed her arms, pushing down the worry about being caught. “Okay, which way?”

Farrah squinted. Turned in a circle. Twisted her lips to the side thoughtfully.

Kate resisted the urge to scream.

“You have to recognize something, right?” they asked desperately.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s just been awhile,” Farrah said quickly. She turned to face down the street. “This way!” She walked five steps, then stopped and looked around again. “Or, um… maybe this way?”

“Do you have an address?” Kate demanded.

“A captain always knows where her ship is! It’s like a psychic bond,” Farrah protested.

Kate glared. “If only we had a captain, cadet.”

Farrah rolled her eyes and marched down the street with spectacular confidence, and Kate followed, jumping at every sound and hugging themself nervously. They walked for three blocks without seeing anyone, and Kate started trying to think of a backup plan as Farrah slowed and began scanning the nearby buildings.

“There!” Farrah said, pointing. “That one, I’m sure of it!” She walked up to the warehouse, which looked the same as every other warehouse within a mile, and tried the door. “Goddamnit, it’s locked.”

“D’you have a key?”

Farrah glared at Kate. “Yep, let me just pull it out of my prison issued pocket.”

She’s got your escape ship, Kate reminded themself, teeth grit. You can’t hit her.

They kneeled down besides the ID scanner, examining it. “D’you think it’s alarmed?”

“It had better be! I’ve been paying rent this whole time, and it wasn’t for my darling to be sitting in an unprotected warehouse.”

Kate was beginning to wonder if one punch would really be so bad when the door swung open.

“Thorne!” the strange man said loudly. “I just saw the news, thought you’d be showing up here soon!”

Farrah’s eyes lit up. “Hey, Alak, what’s up? I’m on the news? How do I look?”

Alak’s attention flitted over to Kate, and the smile slipped from his face. Kate kept her expression neutral (mostly, but a glare was part of their resting expression anyways) and took a second to check the newsfeeds. Sure enough: ESCAPED CONVICT. CONSIDERED ARMED AND DANGEROUS. IF SEEN, COMM THIS LINK IMMEDIATELY.

“Saw you on the news, too,” Alak said flatly.

Farrah coughed a little. “Hey, I need to pick up my ship. We’re kind of in a hurry.”

Alak shook his head. “Sorry, Thorne. The feds already watch me close enough. I can always claim ignorance to storing a stolen ship, but assisting a felon, and assisting… one of them-” Kate wondered if he was referring to their Lunar heritage or cyborg limbs- “If they track you here, I’m toast. I won’t tell anyone I saw you, but I can’t let you take your ship ‘till this all blows over. You understand, yeah?”

Farrah made an extremely offended face. “But she’s my ship! I pay you a lot of goddamn money, Alak, you can’t keep her from me!”

“Every man for himself, you know how it is.” Alak looked back at Kate with an expression of revulsion. “If you leave now, I won’t comm the police. And if they show up here, I’ll tell them I haven’t seen you since last year when you dropped off the ship. But if you stay a minute longer, I swear to fuck, I will comm them myself.”

Kate glanced down the street, and their heart leaped into her throat at the sight of an emergency hover without the red cross on the side. “Look, we need that ship. We don’t have anywhere else to go.”

Alak sneered and stepped back into the doorway. “I’m trying to help you out, ‘cause Thorne’s been a good customer for awhile, and I don’t rat out my customers, but it isn’t a favor to you. I wouldn’t blink twice about sending you off to rot. It’s the best you freaks deserve. Now fuck off, before I change my mind.”

Kate clenched her fists, barely containing a cry of pain as the burning returned, white hot as it spread from the base of her neck. They managed to stop the burst of electricity, white spots blinking in their vision, just in time to see Alak’s eyes roll back as he passed out.

Farrah caught him, groaning. “Aces, he weighs a ton!”

Kate fell back against the wall, suddenly dizzy. “He’s not- fuck, he’s not dead, is he?”

“No, I think he’s fine.” Farrah groaned again under the weight. “Ugh, help me, will you?”

Kate reached for Alak’s feet, and they tugged him into the building. The office to the left had two net screens with security footage on one side and a newsfeed on the other.

“He’s a selfish ass, but he’s got good taste in jewelry,” Farrah murmured, holding up his limp wrist with a golden watch.

Kate slapped her hand. “Can you focus?” They both turned and scanned the warehouse, packed with all sorts of ships - cargo ships, podships, personal flyers, raceships, ferries, cruisers-

“Hey, look, there was another jailbreak.”

Kate looked back at the netscreen, reading the words that scrolled across the bottom. LUNAR ESCAPES FROM NEW BEIJING PRISON. CONSIDERED EXTREMELY DANGEROUS. Wonderful.

“This is awesome!” Farrah said with a laugh. “If they’re tracking down a Lunar, they won’t think twice about us!”

Kate pressed her lips together and looked back at the array of ships.

“Wait… you’re Lunar?!”

“Yes, dumbass, I can’t believe you haven’t noticed.” Kate put their hands on their hips and raised an eyebrow, hiding the way she wanted to curl up under the desk and hide until the world forgot Kate Dalton had ever existed. “Which ship is yours?”

“Woah, woah, woah. Assisting a crazy Lunar is a bit out of my league-”

Kate laughed sharply, humorlessly, throwing their hands in the air. “If it wasn’t be me, you’d still be rotting in that fucking jail cell, so you owe me. And you’re already on the news as my accomplice, so it’s a bit too late to go back. You look stupid in that picture, by the way.”

Farrah looked at the screen that showed her own prison picture besides Kate. “I think I look pretty good.”

Kate took a deep, shaky breath. “Farrah, please.”

Farrah thought for a moment, then sighed heavily. “Fine, let’s go.”

Kate managed a sigh of relief and followed Farrah into the mess of ships. “I hope it isn’t one in the middle.”

“Doesn’t matter.” Farrah pointed up. “The roof opens.”

“Huh.” Kate looked where Farrah was pointing, at the seam across the ceiling. “Convenient.”

“Here she is!”

Kate’s retina display automatically began downloading the ship’s information as Farrah proudly pointed to it. It was larger than they’d anticipated - way larger. A 214 Rampion, Class 11.3 cargo ship. Two satellite podships, six crew quarters, a galley and a washroom… definitely enough room to avoid each other.

“You know, there was a time when she housed a crew of twelve men,” Farrah said, patting the side of the ship.

Kate walked around to the main entry hatch, noticing that the seal of the American Republic had been hastily painted over with the silhouette of a lounging woman. “What the hell?”

“Painted it myself,” Farrah said.

Kate sighed.

“Over here!” an unfamiliar voice shouted from across the warehouse. Kate glanced back and saw a man in the uniform of the Eastern Commonwealth’s military crouched over Alak’s unconscious body.

“Shit, fuck, shit,” they muttered and shoved Farrah’s shoulder. “C’mon, time to get out of here, let’s go.”

Farrah turned to the hatch and cleared her throat. “Alright, Rampion. Code word: Captain is queen. Open hatch.”

Nothing happened. The hatch stayed stubbornly closed. Kate started to panic.

“Captain is queen,” Farrah said again. “Captain is queen! Rampion, it’s me! Captain Thorne! What the hell-”

“Shh,” Kate said quickly, pressing up against the hull of the ship. Just on the other side, soldiers with searchlights had begun making their way through the warehouse, combing it for them.

“Maybe the power cell is dead,” Kate thought aloud.

“But it’s just been sitting here-” Farrah cursed. “I left the headlights on, didn’t I?”

Kate ignored their rising panic. “Maybe it’s the auto-control system? I’ve never worked on anything bigger than a podship, but I doubt it’s that different.” They put a hand on Farrah’s shoulder. “Stay here and keep trying to get in, okay?”

“Where are you-”

Kate snuck around the side of the ship, moving as quickly as possible, the blueprint she’d downloaded a few minutes earlier glowing over their vision. She found the access hatch easily and got it open even easier, and crawled into the undercarriage of the ship, barely avoiding the wires that criss-crossed in her way. The second interior door was more of a challenge, but with their flashlight and screwdriver, Kate was in the engine room within a minute.

The engine was bigger than she was, looming against the opposite wall. Kate brushed past it and found the computer motherboard, pulling the universal connector cable from their hand as they went, and snapped it into place. The flashlight dimmed, and Kate turned it off as her power was diverted, reading the pale green text that took over her retina display.

DIAGNOSING COMPUTER SYSTEM. MODEL 135v8.2

5% … 12% … 16% …

Farrah pressed herself behind the landing gear, heart pounding in her ears. “Captain is queen, captain is queen,” she hissed, even though she was pretty sure it was useless.

A subtle hum started up over her head, and she looked up at the running lights flickering on near the ship’s nose with a spark of hope. Gears started to rumble, and Farrah rolled out of the way just in time to avoid being squashed beneath the ramp.

“There!” shouted one of the soldiers.

Farrah swung herself up onto the ramp. “Rampion, close hatch!”

Nothing happened.

A bullet pinged off the overhead light. Farrah swore and ducked behind a plastic crate. “Rampion, I said close hatch!”

“I’m working on it!” said a voice overhead.

Farrah froze and nervously glanced up. “Rampion…?”

No response.

Just before the soldiers could follow Farrah onto the ship, the ramp creaked and began to rise, blocking more and more bullets as it went. Once it was safe, she rushed to the cockpit, keeping her balance with a hand against the wall as she slid into the pilot seat. The windows were filthy, but she didn’t have time to worry about that right now.

“Rampion, ready for liftoff!” she ordered.

The dash lit up - only the most important controls and screens.

That same cold feminine voice rang over the speakers. “Farrah, I can’t set the automatic lift, so you’ll have to take off manually.”

“Why is my ship talking back to me?!” Farrah yelled, panicked.

“It’s me, dumbass!”

Farrah furrowed her eyebrows. “Kate?”

“The auto-control system has a bug, and the power cell is weird, too. I think it’ll make it, but you have to take off without computer assistance.”

Farrah gulped. “Without- are you sure?”

“You know how to fly, right?”

“Y-yeah, of course!” Farrah scanned the controls.

“We’re fucked.”

Farrah reached for the controller on the ceiling and blinked as the warehouse doors opened, smacking her in the face with a bright beam of sunlight. She jabbed at the ignition and engaged hover mode, smoothly easing the ship off the ground with the help of the magnets beneath the city. Farrah’s breathing began to steady.

Then the ship began to tilt to the left.

“Woah- hey, stop that!” Farrah shouted, leveling the ship.

“The power cell is going to die. You’ve got to engage the backup thrusters.”

“The wha- wait, no, I found them.”

The sudden jolt of power made the ship lurch to the right, and Farrah winced as she slammed into the ship beside her. A wave of bullets slammed into the starboard side. Farrah shivered.

“What’s going on? What the hell are you doing?”

“Stop distracting me!” she shouted through gritted teeth. She tried to right the ship, but overcompensated and they tilted too far to the right.

“We’re gonna fucking die.”

“This isn’t as easy as it looks! Normally I have an automated stabilizer to take care of this for me!”

Oddly enough, she received no sarcastic reply.

Another panel lit up to her right. MAGNETIC CONDUCTORS STABILIZING. POWER OUTPUT: 37/63 … 38/62 … 42/58 …

The ship settled and once again began to hover evenly.

Farrah grinned. “Exactly like that!”

The engine roared as the ship soared upwards, a last wave of bullets sending them away as they broke free from the warehouse.

“C’mon, darling,” Farrah said softly, as the ship easily broke through the magnetic field of the city and speared through the clouds of the morning sky. The skyscrapers of New Beijing were only visible for a moment before they dropped away, and then it was just Farrah and the ship and the open starry sky ahead of them.

Farrah’s knuckles were white around the controls until the ship made it to neutral orbit, then she slumped back into the chair, shaking. She forgot to speak for several minutes, her heart too loud to hear anything else, before she said “hey, if you want a permanent position on the crew, you’re hired.”

No response.

“And I don’t mean, like, the lowest rank,” she continued. “First mate? I mean, everything’s available. Mechanic… cook… a pilot would be nice.” She waited. “Kate?”

Nothing.

Farrah sighed and pulled herself to her feet, leaning against the wall as she walked along the hallway that was as familiar to her as her cell in the prison had eventually become, down to the engine room. The screen by the door didn’t say anything about space vacuums, or about a living cyborg inside.

Farrah unlocked the door and shoved it open. The engine room was loud, hot, and stank of melted rubber. It was too dark to see, but Farrah squinted anyway, a bit terrified of what she’d see.

“Cyborg? Are you in there?”

Nothing.

Farrah squeezed her eyes shut. “Lights, on.”

A red emergency light was the only one that turned on, casting a sinister light over the revolving engine and masses of cords.

Farrah spotted something white.

“Kate?” she called again, getting closer. Kate didn’t move. As Farrah got closer, she saw them on their back, dark hair fanned over the steel floor, eyes closed and bionic hand plugged into a computer panel.

“Hey,” Farrah said nervously. She put a hand on Kate’s shoulder and gently shook, but got no response. Farrah pressed an ear against her chest, but the engine was too loud to hear a heartbeat.

Farrah reached and unplugged Kate’s hand from the computer panel, and a robotic voice came overhead, the same one Kate had used to talk to Farrah during takeoff. “Auto-control system disconnected,” it said. “Engaging default system procedures.”

“Cool, you do that,” Farrah said, dragging Kate into the hallway. God, whatever the hell those cyborg limbs were made out of, it was way heavier than a normal human limb.

Farrah propped Kate up against the wall and frowned. At least in this brightness, it was obvious that they were breathing. “Do you have, like, a power button or whatever?”

Her gaze fell to the hand, a cord still dangling from her pinky.

“Aha!” Farrah leaped to her feet and opened the podship dock, then tugged Kate in between the two small podships. She grabbed for the podship’s charging cord from the wall, then paused, looking back and forth between the charging cord and Kate’s cord. Dammit, two males. They’d never connect.

Farrah glanced down and saw the small latch on the back of Kate’s head.

“Aces and spades,” she groaned. “Tell me it’s not…”

But all signs pointed to yes.

Farrah kneeled next to Kate and looked away as she opened the panel, then snuck a glance and breathed a sigh of relief when she realized Kate’s control panel hid any brain tissue from view. The compartment was shallow enough that the ship’s lights were enough to see by, and she quickly spotted a small outlet, the same size as the plugs.

“Gotcha,” she whispered, hoping she wasn’t about to majorly fuck up as she plugged it in and leaned Kate back against the wall.

For a moment, nothing happened, but about a minute later, something hummed inside their skull. It got louder and louder, but then stopped, and Farrah gulped, tucking her knees up to her chest.

Kate’s eyes flew open, and she gasped, looking up at Farrah.

“Kate…?” Farrah said nervously. “Are you dead?”

Kate took a moment to speak, and when they did, the words were slurred. “Auto-control defaults… almost drained my power system…”

“Uh, I think it did.”

Kate stared at her for a moment with a confused expression, but then reached up for the cord still plugged into the back of their head and yanked it out, slamming the panel shut. “You opened my control panel?” they demanded harshly.

“I didn’t want to! And I saved your life!” Farrah pointed out.

Kate paused and thought for a moment.

“Well… I guess that was quick thinking,” Kate finally assented.

Farrah grinned. “Are we having another moment?”

Kate slumped back on the floor. “I guess. If you consider another moment to be me not wanting to strangle you for the first time since we met - although maybe I’m just too exhausted.”

“I’ll take it!” Farrah stretched out on the floor beside Kate, enjoying the coolness of the steel, the humming engine next door, the smell of sewage still wafting from their clothes, and the sensation of freedom.

#we are the tigers #the lunar chronicles #kate dalton #farrah watt #blood tw #gun tw #knife tw #ask to tag #holy shit this took forever #this is probably going to be the longest installment of this whole series #enjoy

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detroitbydark · 4 years ago

Text

Chapter 11

Characters: Fox/Mouse (reader), appearances from Hound, Thire, Rule, Mace Windu, Yoda, and Padmé Amidala.

Warning: angst (y’all want me to hirt you right?)

A/N: so get ready to read nearly 6000 words of Fox’s self loathing, the CG being supportive vod, Jedi being Jedi, and Mouse being hurt yet again.

Current

The choices had been fresh ink or gut-rot barracks hooch. Fox chose the ink.

He’s down in the levels, he can’t remember which one exactly, far enough from prying eyes and questioning vod, that was all that had really mattered. The artist, a pantoran with a nice portfolio, was busy laying out the design. He can feel the cool transfer as it’s pressed over his heart and he drags in a ragged breath. This was penance. This was the closure he needed. He’d messed up. For two weeks he’d messed up and now any chance he had was gone along with her.

“You wanna talk about it, man?” The tattoo artist asks as he peels away the flimsy leaving the outline on his skin.

“No”

Two weeks earlier

Fox hates the sterile smell of the hospital, the beige walls, the gleaming metal all around. It reminds him of Kamino and a medbay he’d spent more than enough time in. He was never quite as strong or quite as fast as the other CCs in his batch, men that would go on to bear monikers like Gree and Bly and Wolffe. He made up for it in other ways. His mind was sharp, quick to come to a plan of action, he could think on his feet.

He remembers Sargent Kal coming into the CC classroom one day for a talk on urban combat- something that had piqued CC-1010’s interest from the word go- and how by the end of the lesson he’d ended up the star of the day. His observations as they’d talked through scenarios had left Kal remarking that he was “Sly as a Fox” and that the Triple Zero would be a good place for the likes of him. He was only the second in his batch to earn a name and he wore it around like a badge of honor.

Now he didn’t feel so honorable or so sly. He felt a lot of other things though. The psych droid, a loathsome device of he'd ever seen one, had talked him through what had happened in the Supreme Chancellor’s suite. It had questioned him over and over, maybe expecting the answers to change, about what his part in the assassination of Sheev Palpatine had been. He was tired. He wanted to wrap himself around his cyar’ika and pretend the whole day had been a nightmare.

That was impossible, she was somewhere else in the hospital being treated, shoved into a bacta tank. It had only been Rex’s firm voice that had convinced Fox to let the medic’s anywhere near her. When he’d let them take her limp body away from him-

Fierfek.

The handprint- a bloody partial across the left side of his breastplate, was still there.

“Commander Fox” a familiar voice cuts through the silent world of the room“ Much to think about you have“

He recognizes the Jedi Master, Yoda, immediately. There was no one else the ancient green Jedi could be mistaken for.

“I prefer to not“ being around a force wielder was not high on Fox’s current list of things to do.

“Such Is life”

“With all due respect sir,” he can hear the petulance in his own voice but he has neither the energy nor will to rein it in “I didn’t ask for this life.”

“But given to you it was, nonetheless. Choices you must make with what to do with it.“

Fox is quiet and the small Jedi Master matches it until the door opens again and General Windu joins the pair. Fox meets his gaze and the Jedi nods solemnly.

“Much discussion Master Windu and I have had these last few hours-“

“So it’s back to Kamino then? Reconditioning or Termination?” Fox can’t hide the bitterness in his voice. He doesn’t want to. He wants the world -or at least the two Jedi in the room- to see his pain. To feel it like he was.

Yoda sighs and moves to him, walking stick clicking in time with his steps. He hops up on the cold metal table next to Fox in a way that makes Fox think that the walking stick was not really necessary. He fights the urge to move away.

“A great disservice has been done to you, Commander. No, Kamino is not where you belong, deserve punishment you do not.”

The words burn. Fox is trapped between relief and a slow simmering rage, one that demands he be punished for his inability to protect those most vulnerable. First Fives. Now Mouse. He failed because he was weak-

“Stop” General Windu’s voice is firm. The look on Fox’s face must read pure terror because the Jedi huffs softly, “I don’t need to see inside your head to know what you're thinking. It’s all over your face. Do you know the kind of power Sidious possessed? To fight off that kind of insinuation would have been nearly impossible and that was before the chip-“

“The chip?” Fox attempts to rise to his feet but three green fingers press down on his arm. He looks down at the tired, ancient face of the Jedi Master and sits back down. “What of the chip? What has it got to do in all of this?”

The answer is simple. Everything.

Fox sits in cold shock as the Jedi describe to him what they’d learned of Palpatine’s- no, Sidious’ plans for the clone army. He stops them once to go to the bathroom and vomit. It wasn’t just Tup and Fives and him. It was all his vode. The entire clone army programmed to turn on their leaders, their friends with the utterance of a single phrase. He thinks of the hints Bly had made about his Jedi when they’d last spoken.

For a moment it’s more than he can fathom, and he holds a hand up for quiet. The Jedi allow it. He gives himself a minute, just one, before he pulls himself together, before he sits up straight and pushes the anguish, hurt, and the dirty feelings deep down.

“What now?” The implications of what has happened are finally becoming clear “The Republic can’t know the truth. There’ll be chaos in the streets. They’ll turn against the clones entirely” Fox worries more for his brothers than ever before. If the citizens knew…

“Correct you are, Commander” Yoda agrees..

“It needs to stay under wraps. The only people that will ever know it was anything other than an sudden death by natural causes will be us and the others that were in that room. Skywalker, Captain Rex, and-“

“Don’t say her name” it comes out as a growl, “leave her out of this.”

“There she was, Commander. Secrets she must learn to keep.”

Fox’s nails bite into the palms of his hands, “you won’t-“ he can’t bring himself to say the words.

“We will not force thoughts into her head.” Mace clarifies. “From what I’ve heard of her I think she’ll understand our reasoning for secrecy. Her injuries will be said to come from a mugging. You’ll fill out the report. Wrong place wrong time”

Wasn’t that the truth.

Fox nods slowly, “and what of my brothers?”

“Come out the chips must.” Fox flinches when a green finger taps at his temple, “but uncomplicated and quick it is.”

“We will let it be known that the chips are faulty and to continue to use them puts the clones in danger of having unforeseen medical problems.” Mace’s eyes narrow as Fox scoffs. He raises a brow challengingly, “do you think they’d rather know that they were all ticking timebombs? That at any moment they’d be triggered into mindless killers? Pawns?”

A tense moment passes with the two men glaring at one another. Of course Fox doesn’t think that would be any better.

“We’ll begin rotating troops through the nearest medical units capable of removal immediately.” Mace explains. “We can have the entire Coruscant Guard done by the end of the week and it appears with minimal down time. A day, tops.” He explains.

A quick nod is all the acknowledgement Fox can muster. He doesn��t like the idea of keeping the Guard in the dark and he hates having them undergo any medical procedure even more. He wasn’t the only clone who had lingering emotions when it came to the medbay, not by a long shot.

“I’ll go first.”

The Jedi at his side makes an agreeable hum. General Windu nods.

“As I would expect a good leader to do.”

Fox isn’t sure how much he buys into their approval.

13 days earlier

The official story was that Supreme Chancellor Sheev Palpatine had succumbed to a sudden illness. The holonews was ablaze with stories: from the official release to the tabloid fodder. Fellow politicians waxed poetic on him as a man and a leader, someone who stepped forward when the Republic was in its darkest hour to take control of the chaos.

It was said his last words were, “and sorry I couldn’t give more for my people and the galaxy.”

If Fox’s eyes rolled any harder he was sure they’d fly from his head and ping around in his bucket. Sidious was dead. He didn’t deserve the adoration of billions or the high honors of his burial. He was a hu’tuun. The skanah was better suited as feed for the carrion birds than the marble burial chamber he’s laid to rest in with military honors provided by clones he’d have used as weapons against the very Republic they swore to protect.

10 days earlier

Four days without Mouse and Fox feels twitchy. It’s been over a year since he’s gone more than two days without laying eyes on her. Knowing that she was recently released from the bacta tank doesn’t make it any easier. He’d not wanted to see her floating in the tank for a plethora of reasons, the least of which was his own guilt. That didn’t stop him from setting up a guard rotation at her door as soon as he was cleared to return to duty. It also didn’t stop him from demanding regular updates on her care from the kits he was setting up at her room.

Ryk had been present when she’d been taken out of the tank and said she’d seemed in good spirits as she’d slowly come too.

Wren had gently indicated that she’d love some company while she was on bed rest.

Rule had given him a look that screamed, ‘don’t be a scum sucking piece of nerf fodder.’ As he’d explained that Mous’ika had been asking for him.

She’d been asking for him. Even after everything she wanted to see him.

And he couldn’t do it.

He’d made his way twice to the nurses station before turning and making an excuse to leave.

He couldn’t look at her. Sidious’ words still swirled in his head. even though General Yoda had reassured him that he was no longer under the sway of the Sith, the thoughts still lingered.

You were supposed to use her to fuck your baser urges out.

She’s using you to obtain a foothold in the guard.

She’s fooled you all.

The underlying message was unmistakable.

Why would anyone choose to care for a clone?

Fox almost wishes the headaches would return so he could focus on the pain in his head vs. that dull empty ache in his chest, a black hole behind his rib cage, but he hasn’t had one since both the Sith Lord and the chip were removed from his life.

9 days earlier

Bail Organa is voted into the Chancellorship by an overwhelming number of his peers.

It’s the best choice, as far as Fox is concerned. With Senator Amidala announcing a leave of absence to give birth to the best guarded secret since the clone army, it’s the only choice Fox finds acceptable.

Not like anyone would ask his opinion.

Organa is a good man, even if he is a politician. He’s only ever looked out for the Republic, never given in to self indulgent whims, never taken more than he deserved.

Fox touches the fresh scar on the right side of his head gently as Holonet News continues to replay the new Chancellor's inauguration from earlier. Barely more than a week and everything has changed.

General Windu was correct, medical had been able to get through the entire guard in rapid fire. All of his men were sporting matching scars, many were more than a little curious as to the actual reason their chips had been removed. He’s both insanely proud and horribly frustrated at the theories being bandied about. Some far too close for comfort.

They can never know. Nobody can ever know.

But somehow Bail Organa knows.

He’s only had one meeting, early this morning before the inauguration, in private with the new Chancellor but he’d alluded to things that left Fox speechless. He’d known Bail to have friends in high places, but he hadn’t realized how high.

“Think he’ll do better than the last one?”

Thire hovers in the doorway, unmoving until Fox inclines his head toward the open seat across his desktop.

“Can’t be any worse.” There’s no humor in his tone but Thire huffs out a quiet laugh.

There’s a lag in the conversation, not like one has truly begun, and Fox takes a breath before setting down his datapad and flicking the holo off. “How long have we known one another?” He asks looking up at his lieutenant.

“Long enough.”

“So, you and I both know that you're here for something else and It's not just to make quips about the new Alor.”

“I suppose that’s true” Thire’s face gives nothing away. Fox liked that about the shock trooper. He was reserved, yes, but also pragmatic. A problem solver, not ruled by his emotions. Which was all well and good but something about the way he’s staring makes Fox feel like he’s the problem needing solving.

“Spit it out.”

“Go see her.”

Fox raises a brow in his vod’s direction. “Is that an order”

“Respectfully sir” the corner of Thire’s mouth quirks almost imperceptibly before it falls away.

The little shit.

In reality, Fox had known this one going to come from one of his men. He’d expected Rule or Hound, the more brash and aggressive boys, to be the ones but Thire is not a complete shock. He’d never seemed particularly close to Mouse but the lieutenant did play things close to the chest.

“She had a nightmare last night while I was on watch. Woke up crying your name.”

Inside Fox crumbles. No amount of talking to a psych droid was going to fix that feeling. No amount of time would make him feel ok about what he’d allowed to happen to the woman he loved. Thire continues.

“A clone's lot is not much. They decant us. They train us. They ship us out to fight in their war. We live, maybe. We die, more likely. Nothing is given to us.” Thire runs a hand over his head, fingers scratching at the crown. “Sometimes though, a di’kut like you gets a break. That woman in that bed cried in my arms. Talked to me like I was you for over an hour and I let her. You know why?”

Fox has to unclench his jaw, work past the jealous ache rising up in his chest to respond, “why?”

“Because it’s the closest I’ll ever have to feeling that kind of emotion. I’m not ashamed to say I pulled your girl into my lap, held her close and said soft things I didn’t even know I knew into her pretty hair until she calmed down. I was happy to pretend to be your atin’shebs but you know what the real kicker is, Vod?”

Fox’s hands are like vice grips on the edge of his seat, knuckles pale white as a shinies armor. The thought of Mouse hurting is one thing, but to have someone else be the one to comfort her? It tears at him. “What?” He asks through gritted teeth.

“When she calms down she says, “I know you're not him. Thank you for letting me pretend for a minute”.

7 days earlier

He pretends like he doesn’t know where he’s going. Like talking to the kriffing psych droid really had him so out of sorts he didn’t realize he was getting on a turbo lift and heading up three flights after his appointment.

He tries to act like he doesn’t know his feet are carrying him to the room with the familiar red and white sentinel outside the door.

Rule quirks his helmet before snapping to attention.

“Commander Fox, sir?”

“At ease Sargent.” It's late, well past visiting hours but the few sentient nurses and the droids assisting them make no move to rush him along. Perks of the armor.

Rule relaxes and glances through the small transparisteel window on the door behind him before turning back.

“She just had some medicine.” He explains, “pain was getting pretty bad again.”

Fox’s bucket hides his cringe, allowing him to outwardly remain impassive and aloof, his voice even as he asks simple questions about visitors and any possible issues arising.

“No problems here sir. I think I heard her Doc say something about discharge tomorrow. She’s doing ok” what isn’t said hangs in the air.

She’d be doing better if you were with her

“That’s good. That’s good” Fox agrees, readily avoiding the things left unspoken. “Have you been relieved for dinner?”

“I have a ration bar in my pack sir.”

“Do I need to say it?”

The sunny tone of Rule’s voice tells him everything he needs to know. He can imagine the shit eating grin that accompanies it. “I’m not entirely sure what you mean, sir?”

A quick glance up and down the hall shows nothing but gleaming white tile. No staff. No visitors. No one but Rule to bear witness to his moment of weakness.

“Take the night off Sargent. I’ll cover the watch.”

He stares at the emotionless visor for a beat waiting for his kit to argue, for him to make a smart comment.

It doesn’t happen.

Rule rolls his shoulders, stretching slightly as he makes his move past Fox. At the last second, Rule's hand shoots out, resting over Fox’s vambrace. The moment lingers without either speaking until Rule gently pulls the Commander in and knocks his bucket against Fox’s, pressing his forehead to his Commander’s.

Fox, claps a hand behind the sargents head and they sit there frozen for a moment in time, Rule offering more comfort in that one gesture than he’s felt in days. A Keldabe kiss to ease his fragile psyche.

“Alverde.” Rule offers quietly when the pair finally part.

“Sargent” Fox gives a minuscule nod. “Enjoy your night.” He watches the youngster head down the hall until he turns a corner and is gone from sight.

Fox manages to avoid looking in the room for five minutes exactly. He’s able to fight off the pull to enter it for another twenty. The draw of her is too much in the end and he finds himself slipping into her room before the first thirty minutes are even past.

The lights are low and the monitors and electronics surrounding her hum and buzz steadily. Everything is white and stark. His cyar’ika is nearly the same color as the sheet she lays under.

She looks small, and so achingly fragile Fox is afraid the weight of his look alone will break her. She shivers lightly and he lurches into motion, dragging the itchy comforter over her legs and tucking it around her shoulders. Her body stirs as his gloved hand grazes along her cheek.

He freezes as her eyes flutter open. Her pupils aren’t quite right. It seems to take her a moment to piece together what’s going on but when she does the realization that washes over her is visible.

“Fox” his name sounds like a long lost friend rolling from her lips. She struggles to sit up. A look of pain flashes across her face as she twists under the blankets.

“Stop that” he demands impotently, his gloves moving to press gently against her chest. “you’re going to hurt yourself.”

She blinks owlishly up at him in the way only a person on good pain meds can, like she doesn’t quite understand what’s been said and she’s not sure whether she should comply or question it. It’s somewhere between bemused and scared.

He cups her cheek in his hand, “easy precious girl.” He soothes. Mouse relaxes into his touch as his gloved thumb rubs softly. Her eyes flutter shut and he can feel the soft sound she makes against his palm.

This was already far past what he intended. He just wanted to see her, to prove to himself she was really alive and in one piece despite him.

Now, he finds himself already slipping into old habits.

More focused, her eyes open. Her hand slips up and grips his vambrace. Slowly she pulls his hand away from her face. She lets her fingers slip down into and through his. Her voice is thick with sleep when she speaks and Fox has to lean in to hear her.

“I knew you’d come”

Of course she had. Fox wonders if she knew him better than he knew himself. This was always going to happen no matter how many times he’d lied to himself. He pulls his hand away. Mouse’s hangs empty in the air for a moment before she sets it down over her chest.

The quiet burr and hum of the monitors around her are the only sound between them until he reaches up to his bucket and lets the seal pop with a soft hiss.

Her eyes scan his face as he sets the helm off to the side. There’s a question there he can’t decipher. “What can I do?”

A harsh laugh escapes Fox’s lips and Mouse frowns at him.

“I think you’ve done enough, cyar’ika.”

“Fox-“ it’s a scolding tone that holds no weight when she looks like a battered doll in a too big hospital bed. She closes her eyes when he doesn’t give in and offer her more.

The bed dips under his weight as he sits at the edge of it. “I just wanted to make sure you were, ok. Alright?” He holds back from touching her again. It takes an enormous amount of will.

“I’m ok, Fox. Because of you.”

It’s a lie. All of it. It can’t be anything else. “You're in a hospital bed,” he growls, pushing up to his feet and stalking toward the window. He can’t look at her. “You spent days floating in bacta. You-“

“I’m alive.”

“That’s not because of me.”

He hears the ruffle of sheets as he looks out over Coruscant. The lights of the buildings and speeders in the sky lanes, like stars in the polluted evening light.

“Fox-“ her hand touches his arm and he spins to steady her. Anger swells up in him.

“Kriff- Mouse, get back in bed” he orders lowly, “you’re going to get hurt.”

She sways gently on her feet in the too big hospital gown but her jaw is set, “will you listen to me?”

“Will you get back in bed?” Fox pinches the bridge of his nose and takes a deep breath before looking at her again. “Get back in bed and I’ll listen. Please.”

Mouse stands, arms crossed, glaring pointedly. Fox has had enough. Quick and smooth like a tactical insertion he scoops her up. Mouse makes a small noise as his arms slide behind her knees and his other arm cradles behind her shoulders. She breathes heavily as she looks up at him.

“You’re going back to bed.” He covers the small room in just a few steps. When he goes to set her down she slips her arms around his neck and holds on for dear life.

“I’m not getting back in that bed unless you come with me.”

“You’re not in the position to make demands.” But that’s a lie because, with him, she was always in the position to make demands. She just never had to.

“Please, Fox. I just want one good night. You can leave as soon as I'm asleep.”

It’s hard to say if it’s the tired tone of her voice, the smell of her skin so temptingly close, or just his own beaten down need to be close to her, regardless Fox gives in.

“The armor stays on.” He says as he settles into the bed, he tries to keep his boots off the bed the best he can. Mouse curls tighter against him. It can’t be comfortable against the plastoid but to look at her he’d never know. One hand rests along his jaw while the other wraps around his back keeping him from easily disentangling himself.

Fox can’t help himself as he slips one glove off and cards his fingers through her hair, stopping every so often to work out a tangle. Mouse sighs against him.

“Precious girl,” he hums lowly as her fingers trace along the stubble at his jaw, “go to sleep.”

“You're going to leave once I do.”

“Yes, that was the deal.”

“You’re not going to come back.”

Again, he’s struck with how well she knows him. “No, cyar’ika. I’m not.”

6 days earlier

His knuckles are wailing in pain and it feels so kriffing good. His hands, wrapped in protective tape are held tight and safe as he tenderizes the heavy bag in front of him. A low, guttural growl works its way up from his chest with each landed blow.

It’s the first time he’s felt in control in days. Even if it only lasted for his duration in the sparring rooms he didn’t care. When he closes his eyes he doesn’t see Mouse at the end of his blaster, the way her body recoiled and convulsed at the first shot. He doesn’t hear the scream that rips through her when the second bolt burns through her side. He doesn’t dwell on the voice in his head demanding the kill while Fox did everything to drag his near perfect aim away from center mass.

He pictures Sidious’ face on the bag and the pile of sloppy mash his fists were making it into. There’s catharsis in the exertion that a psych droid couldn’t give him.

“Commander, sir?”

Fox turns to see Hound stripped down to just his black under armor pants. He was a burly boy as far as clones went, thicker and more muscular through the torso, next to Hound, Fox looks almost lithe.

Fox pants lightly as he dips to grab a bottle of water and straighten back up. “What can I do for you?”

“I- do you need to-“

Fox watches as the man chooses his words carefully, finally gesturing first toward the mat.

“You wanna go a few, rounds? Looks like you could use it?”

A roll of tape is flipped through the air in answer. Hound catches it smoothly, giving Fox a happy grin as he begins wrapping his hands.

5 days earlier

There’s a neat hole in his wall, fist sized and fresh, less than a week old. Fox pretends like he doesn’t see Chancellor Organa eyeballing it with some amount of apprehension. What he can’t pretend is that a visit from the newly minted Chancellor to his office isn’t a surprise.

“Commander, you can drop the title with me.” The Chancellor says for the second time since his arrival.

“Sir, it’s frowned upon-“

“-not by me”

Fox huffs and closes his eyes to hide the roll of them. “Ok, fine. Can I get you something to drink? Some caf?”

Bail waves off the offer, “I won’t be long and it looks like you're woefully underserved.” He tips his head back toward the door and the empty desk.

A bristle of irritation tingles down Fox’s neck. “She was in the hospital. She was…” the words trail off. Part of protecting his little Mouse was keeping her involvement in the Sidious event quiet.

“I know, Commander.” Bail says quietly, “we share a friend on the council who’s made me aware of many interesting things.”

It feels like he’s being baited. He likes to think Organa wouldn't try to try to weasel information from him but his trust is a very delicate thing at the moment and he’s not willing to give an inch. His loyalty is to his men and the republic, after that only one other person had earned any devotion from him and that was not Bail Organa. At least not yet.

“If there’s anything I can do for her, anything she needs we can make that happen.”

Fox glances at the picture on his desk. It had come by courier earlier in the day. It’s been neatly matted and framed to be hung, a children’s drawing of a small green twi’lek child and him holding hands. He’d stared at it on his desk in silence for far too long before he felt something ugly bubble up. Now he had a hole in the wall. He hoped the picture would cover it.

Fox continues to look at the picture. He needs a second to pretend like he knows what Mouse needs. He doesn’t listen to the nagging voice inside of him saying it to him. He hates that voice, would smother it if he could.

“She needs time to heal.”

“I can make that happen.”

“Thank you.”

Earlier this day

“Senator Amidala” Fox greets the senator at the door, “this is a surprise. If I keep receiving politicians in my office I’m going to have to have it made more suitable.”

The senator gives him a bright smile, “it’s good to see you Fox.”

He lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, “it’s good to see you too Padmé.”

They were friends, of a sort. They’d seen enough together that Fox would gladly file her under battle buddies in his short list of friends. She looks lovely, as always, absolutely glowing. Her hand rests softly over the growing baby bump she was now proudly displaying.

“You look wonderful. Congratulations on the coming Ik’aad.” He offers gesturing toward her belly. His eyes linger and he remembers laying Mouse across his bed, placing kisses in a ring around her naval and imaging what it would be like someday when he-

Fox gives his head a quick shake and refocuses on the senator.

“Thank you.” He watches her eyes travel to the child’s drawing on the wall behind his desk before returning to him. “And how are you doing?”

“As well as can be expected. Chancellor Organa keeps a busy schedule and he’s insistent that I go with him. He’s got a lot of ideas and he asks my opinion. It’s different… but it’s nice.”

Padmé slips into the chair across from him.

“That’s wonderful” but she doesn’t sound like it’s wonderful. She sounds like she was here on a mission that he hasn’t been briefed on. He raises a brow at her. They’ve known each other long enough that she should know to just come out with it.

“We’re leaving for Naboo today. I want to have the baby in the lake country. It’s beautiful and peaceful.” She lets out a tired laugh, “and far away from the prying eyes of the holonet news.”

“They’ve been very… interested in you as of late” he offers diplomatically.

Another small laugh, “to say the least” Padmé sobers. “I just wanted to make sure you were ok with her going?”

Confusion must show on his face. Her?

Padmé frowns gently, the look of pity is out of place on her serene features, “you weren’t told, were you?”

“I’m afraid you’ll need to speak clearly.” Fox tries to bite back the tension but it slips into his voice.

She says Mouse’s name. Her real name.

“The Chancellor asked if we would take her with us. That she needed a place to finish recovering.” Padmé is watching his face. She’s trying to gauge his reaction.

He tries to give her nothing.

“She’s an amazing woman. She said if she went then she had to be useful. She’s going to be my assistant while I’m on leave-“

Fox holds up a hand. “She’s excellent at what she does. You’ll never be in better hands.”

“What about you?”

“I’m not her keeper. Mouse deserves to be safe and happy.” He shoots her a forced smile. “That’s not with me.”

Current

He had the rancor etched into his arm after Thorn had been killed in action on a mission Fox was supposed to have led. It was an inside joke they’d heard as shinies. Something about a Jedi and a rancor walking into a cantina. He can’t remember the punchline. It wasn’t funny anyways.

The Pantoran works the needle over his freshly shaven chest. Back and forth, outlining and filling. Pressing the ink into his skin to permanently mark him with another mark of regret, penance. Everytime he looks in the mirror, stripped down from his armor and his blacks he’ll see the reminder of what never was supposed to be, the thing that he went after when he knew it wasn’t allowed. The love that nearly destroyed the person he cared for beyond all others.

“So, this picture is pretty wicked” the Pantoran says conversationally. He glances back and forth from the reference picture Fox gave him, a partial hand print pressed against his armor, the fourth and fifth finger only partially visible and the heel of the hand smeared red. “Was it done in ink?”

“No. Blood.”

The Pantoran makes a sound of understanding. The buzz of the tattoo gun fills the quiet.

Seconds, minutes, hours it’s all the same as Fox sits still as stone in the chair, the press of the needle intimately familiar.

He thinks of Mouse on a shuttle to Naboo.

This was what he’d needed. Mouse far away, somewhere safe. Somewhere no one could hurt her. Where he couldn’t hurt her. No matter what he’s told he still doesn’t believe there isn’t something in him that can be persuaded, to be flipped on, that won’t harm her.

He needed to focus on his job, his men, the Galactic Republic. There was no world in which he and Mouse would work and it was better that she wasn’t there to know that.

“Alright, mate.” The Artist sets the gun down and claps his hands once before rubbing them together. “You’re all set. Why don’t you take a looksy in the mirror while I grab the bacta gel and a dressing?”

Fox nods and pushes himself up. His back is stiff from laying still and he takes a moment to stretch and twist before stepping in front of the mirror. His eyes trace the ink. It’s a perfect replica of the picture, deep vibrant red fingers pressing into his armor, only now pressing into his heart. A reminder of what happens when he becomes selfish. When he wants more than the greater design allows for.

“It’s perfect.”

#fox and mouse #commander fox/reader #cc 1010 #commander fox #fox fanciers #tcw

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fvrxdrm · 4 years ago

Text

Why (Songfic)

Leon Kennedy x Reader

Warning: none

Song: Why by Sabrina Carpenter

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

You like New York City in the day time

I like New York City in the night time

You didn't know why he despised the city when the skies begin to darken and the sun wasn't out. You figured it was because he was afraid of the dark? Maybe he had nightmares when he was a kid and they just stuck with him while he was growing up? You didn't know.

While he hated the city during the night, you loved it very much. You loved how the stars would just twinkle and their brightness would contrast to the deep-colored skies as well as the city lights that would really captivate you when you look out the window.

Now to him, he knew you would never understand why he hated it during the night. Not just New York though, everywhere he goes he's hated the darkest times. It was night time when the unexpected nightmare happened back in Raccoon City and most of his past missions happened during the night. The only time he's had a mission with the sun still up was in the Eastern Slav Republic and a little bit of New York. Though, when the New York incident happened the horrors really began at night and it gave him more reasons to hate the darkness.

You said you like sleeping with the air off

I don't, I need it on

There was this one time when you felt like it was too hot and was about to lower the air conditioner's temperature more but Leon told you not to because he felt cold already. You were puzzled because the temperature was literally at 25 degree Celsius AND he was huddled up in his thick blanket even though you were slightly sweating and no blanket was covering you. You weren't even wearing a pair of long pajamas and long-sleeved shirt when you went to bed that night. He was a really different story.

Leon didn't want to admit that the reason he didn't really like the cold is because most of the time his surroundings was chilly it was when another bioterrorism attack happens. From the cold waters he manages to end up to to the cold night air that would always send chills down his spine. That's why he always wears a jacket whenever he's on a mission.

You like the light coming through the windows

I sleep late, so I just keep 'em all closed

Like I said, he hates the darkness and the light coming through the windows was one of the things that would keep him sane whenever he falls asleep besides you. Though, he just rings up the curtains and never opens the windows because like I said, he doesn't like the cold. The light makes him feel safe for some reason.

You though, liked to keep the windows closed because it made you feel more peaceful. Like nothing could interrupt your late slumber. But when you began dating Leon and found out how he likes them open because it makes him feel safe, you didn't mind it that much and have gotten used to it over the years. You just wanted Leon to be safe. Safe from whatever horrors have been going through his head.

You ignore the music on the radio

I don't, I sing-along

You see, Leon was a loner after Raccoon City and before he met you. He never really experienced fun and was mostly silent. He's mouth only ran when he has a plan or when he has a snarky remark planted on his head, ready to be used.

Whenever music would play in the car he would ignore it even if it was one of the favorite songs he used to love during his youth years. The music at the bars he go to? Bleh. He doesn't even pay attention to them. His mind would always block off the world around him.

So when he met you and noticed how you would sing-along to every music that played on the radio out loud, he paid attention to you and only you because he found it cute how your body would move dramatically as if you were in a concert and you're the singer. He still wouldn't sing-along but he would watch you with loving eyes.

"Here", Leon gave you a handgun and a knife to defend yourself with. Your eyes widened. You know how to use a knife. It's easy. Just stick the whole blade in and you're done. But a gun? That's a whole different story.

"Leon, I-I don't know how to use a gun", your gaze slowly shifted from the weapons in your boyfriend's hands to the ocean-eyed man's face in front of you.

"That's why I'll teach you how to. Here", Leon made sure that no undead would come and get you before he turned you around so your back was facing him and held both of your hands with the handgun he gave you tight in your grasp. He taught you how to aim, shoot, and reload correctly and you nailed it quickly in a matter of minutes.

Now, you were sitting on a dusty and abandoned couch to catch your breaths. You had so many questions running through your head.

Was this real?

Was this some sick joke?

Was this just a random nightmare you were having?

God, you wished it was. You really did. You wished you would just wake up in your bed, cozily snuggled against Leon.

"So, you know how I hate the dark, right?" Leon broke the silence that was surrounding you both.

"Yeah"

"You know how I hate the cold?"

"Yeah"

"You know how I was a loner before I met you?"

"Yeah", you were now starting get puzzled as to why he was mentioning the things he doesn't like while you were in a situation like this.

"This is why"

What?

This confused you.

This is the reason why? What? Huh?

As if he could read your mind he spoke out his answer with trauma hidden in his voice.

"This is my job. To kill the undead. Heh. I know it sounds crazy but it isn't, really. I got used to it", he took a long pause before he continued to speak the truth about his hatefulness towards certain things.

"I was one of Raccoon City's survivors. It was my first day as a police officer and...this is exactly what happened", Leon raised his arms up to emphasize what he meant by 'this is exactly what happened'.

Raccoon City. You've heard about it before but all you knew was that the government wiped the city out but never knew why.

"A virus made by a pharmaceutical company broke out. It infected the whole city's people and only four of us survived"

You were speechless. You didn't know what to say. You wanna tell Leon that everything's gonna be okay but that's really ironic considering your situation right now and your mind just seemed to scramble things around.

"Before I met you I drowned myself in alcohol. Didn't really care if I was slowly killing myself", he spoke again while he kept his head high towards the ceiling.

"You're different. You're peaceful. I'm not. You're always this bright sunshine while I'm this gloomy ass moon, dependent on the light you give", he chuckled in his throat and turned towards your direction before speaking again.

He was very grateful that you were patient with him. He really was. Words can't express how grateful he was to have you.

"I'm...sorry if I'm not the ideal guy you want", your eyes widened in shock at the words that left his mouth.

"What?"

"I'm not like you. We mostly don't have similarities", before he could speak again you cut him off by letting your heart out too.

"Leon, if I didn't want you do you think I would've said yes when you asked me to be yours?" Leon went silent and gestured you to continue what you were saying. You held his hand as gentle as possible while your e/c eyes continued to stare at his blue ones before speaking again.

"I don't care if we're not alike. I love you because of who you are. You care for me as much as I care for you and that's enough. As long as I feel safe with you and you feel safe with me then I'm fine. Do you feel safe with me?" Leon nodded his head while muttering a 'yes'.

"Then I'm perfectly okay with it", you placed a quick peck on his slightly chapped lips that you love before pulling him tightly in your arms.

"You know Romeo and Juliet, right?" You questioned the man that had his nose nuzzled against your neck. It was sticky and sweaty due to the amount of running you did but he could care less. All that's important to him is that you're here with him.

"Mhm. The star-crossed lovers", Leon voice became muffled against your skin but you heard it clearly.

"This may sound cheesy but that's what we are. Two completely different people who fell in love with each other" you smiled softly before placing a gentle kiss on top of his head.

It was silent for a moment until Leon's low chuckle broke the silence again.

"This is really working, huh?" He spoke.

"Yeah"

I don't ask for you to change, baby no no no

And you don't ask for me to change

Tell me how we're not alike

But we work so well and we don't even know why

Funny how the stars crossed right

'Cause we work so well and we don't even know why

You can call it fire and ice

But we work so well and we don't even know why

We don't even know why, no no

We don't even know why, no no no

"And sometimes...we don't even know why", Leon spoke before he laid the both of you down on the couch and pulled you closer, making sure that you were safe and sound before drifting off to dreamland with you.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

I'm sorry. This was kind of rushed and I used my phone to write this and it's a struggle. LOL.

Anyways, Reunited still has one last part. It's smutty. It's still in the writing. I was in the middle of writing it and I got lazy for some reason. LMAO.

#leonxreader #leon+kennedy+imagine #leonkennedy #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy x reader #leon+kennedy+fanfic #leon+s+kennedy+x+reader #leon kennedy imagines #leon s kennedy x reader #songfic

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