#sorry it's an oc afternoon apparently

[dira333]

Hurting together - Aizawa x Reader

mentions of Chronic pain, requested by @alienaiver I hope this is in any way what you've imagined.

“Nervous?” Shouta asks after a full 120 seconds of your leg bouncing without stopping.

“Huh?! Oh, oh, I’m sorry!” You scramble to a halt, arm resting on your leg to keep it in place. “I didn’t even notice I was doing it.”

“Doesn’t mean you have to stop now. But if you wanna talk about it, I heard that helps.”

“Oh, uh, I don’t wanna … I don’t wanna annoy anyone,” you mutter, eyes flickering from left to right.

“Do you wanna hear my story then?” He asks, not because it’s something he likes sharing, but you’re cute and what’s the alternative? Staring at the wall until he gets called in.

“Oh, if you… if you don’t mind?”

He huffs out a breath. “Well, apparently it’s not healthy to break a bone every single week.”

“Oh!” Your eyes grow huge. “Every single week? Wait, is it the same bone.”

“No,” he snorts softly, “At least then I’d have a better story. I’m a pro Hero, I just happen to get into fights.”

“And what’s your Hero Name? Fragile Bone?”

It takes him a second to recognize the joke, snorting loudly when he does. You’re snappy, now that the anxiety fades.

“No, it’s uh… Eraser Head.” He waits a second for you to recognize him, the star-struckness to hit. But it doesn’t. Instead, you cock your head to the side and eye him thoroughly. 

“Interesting,” you say, “I remember an Interview you were forced to give a few years back. Uh, I think there was a streaker at the Sports Festival?”

He laughs. “Good Memory. Yeah, that was one of our students. He didn’t have his Quirk under Control back then.”

“And you’ve got a broken bone now? Or is this just a check-up?”

“Bloodwork.”

“Yikes,” you pull a face, “me too. It’s the worst.”

“It is,” he agrees, dares to ask before he can lose his courage again. “Want me to hold your hand through the process?”

And it’s smooth, smoother than he’s ever been able to - maybe the absence of his friends does benefit his ability to flirt - and he might even get his hopes up for a second there - until your face falls.

“That’s really tempting, you know, but I… uh… my hands are hurting. That’s why I’m here, you know, to figure out why they’re hurting like this. So hand-holding is kinda a no-go.”

“Oh, I understand,” the dejection must be audible in his voice because you reach out for him, though you don’t take hold.

“But if you want,” you offer, voice a little breathless, “you could… uh… put your hand on my shoulder? It might look weird, but-”

“I’ve seen weirder things,” he offers and your smile lights up the room.

-

“Oh, I didn’t know you were coming in together,” Doc Oc greets him and for a moment he is paralyzed, frozen between two different emotions. Surprise, because Doc OC’s obviously familiar with you and he’s got the worst memory when it comes to names. Embarrassment, because it’s usually not the best thing if a Doctor remembers you by name, let alone this one.

“Ah,” you smile, “We met in the waiting room. Bloodwork, you now. It’s easier if it’s done together.”

“That I can agree with. Now, who wants to go first?”

-x-

“Now, I believe you owe me something,” Recovery Girl announces one afternoon, a big smile cutting into her wrinkly face. “What’s her name?”

“Huh?” Shouta had been busy reading through this week's assignment, deciphering the texts. Denki’s Handwriting almost requires a PHD in decoding.

“Doc Oc and I have been friends for quite some time. One would call us even… very close… if you know what I mean. He said you brought in lovely company.”

“Oh, uh, yeah, I guess…” He can’t help but blush at her tone. Too much information.

“Well, are you going to ask her out? You cannot count this as your first date, surely? A fancy Dinner is a must.”

“A fancy Dinner is a must for whom?” Hizashi’s leaning around the door and Shouta groans. Of all people to overhear this.

“Shouta’s girlfriend.”

“Shouta has a girlfriend? Shouta, my man, why didn’t you tell me? Don’t you love me anymore? Your best friend?”

He crawls further into his sleeping bag, closing his eyes. Those assignments can wait, if he can fall in to a coma first, he-

-x-

“So?” Rumi leans against your Desk. “Did he call you?”

“Not yet,” you’re chewing on your lower lip, “But he’s probably busy.”

“Busy my ass,” she snorts angrily. “You’re a catch. If he doesn’t get a groove on you’re gone. He should know that.”

You level your friend - and boss - with a glare. “I’ve been single for a year.”

“Which he doesn’t know,” she sings. “But on another note, have you’ve gotten the results from your bloodwork? You know we only need that so we can get started on your hands-free Desktop.”

“Why do you sound more excited about this than I am?”

“Because you’re afraid of change and I am not. Just think, your hands will finally get to rest!”

“Yay,” you wave them around half-heartedly when your phone pings.

Rumi’s already grabbing it from your desk, always faster than you. “Oh, it’s your guy.” She hands it back. “Not looking.”

“Thank you for respecting my privacy,” you joke and open the short text only to gasp.

“He’s asking me out.”

“Great, so he’s not an idiot. Confirm.”

“No, no, he’s asking me out for a date tonight. You know how bad my legs have been today, I can’t show up with a cane.

“Why not?”

“Because,” you drag out, “the last time I did that there was no second date.”

“And you think he’s that shallow?”

“I just don’t want to jinx it.”

“Fine,” she huffs, crossing her arms. “Tell him you can’t tonight because you’re working late. Ask him if he’s able to reschedule for tomorrow or Friday.”

You hesitate, but do as you’re told.

“And now,” she grabs your bag as soon as you put your phone down, “you get your cute ass home and rest. I want you as fit as you can be tomorrow so you can enjoy that date.”

“But work-”

“Work is like my ex - it will always wait for you.”

-x-

“Fuck,” Shouta groans, head on his arms. The pain is strong today.

“You… uh… you good?” He hears a familiar voice from the door. Shit, he forgot about training with Hitoshi.

“Fantastic,” he grinds through his teeth though he does not dare to lift his head. Lunch was decent, but he doesn’t want to taste it again.

“Do you need Recovery Girl?”

“No, I’m going to be fine. Can you get me my painkillers from my bag? I would, but moving-”

“Sure, sure.” He can hear rustling and then a pill is dropped into his outstretched palm.

Slowly, carefully, he drags his arm back to pop it into his mouth, swallows it dry. He’s got loads of practice.

“Give me twenty minutes and I’ll be right as rain.”

“Uh, if you say so.”

-

He’s got a black eye.

He’s got a black eye and a date in about thirty minutes and the painkillers are making him particularly loopy today.

Hitoshi wouldn’t have been able to hit him in the face if his reaction time hadn’t been so slow. He’s lucky no bone is broken.

Something tells him that it would be better to reschedule, but wouldn’t that make him look disinterested when he’s not?

-

“Mew.” 

Shouta turns to the sound, surprised to see a black cat looking up at him. There’s a hedge there, and he bends down to pet the animal. 

“You’re loud, huh?” He comments on the purring, taking a seat on the ground when his knees turn a little wobbly. He really is getting older. 

The cat disappears into the hedge and he holds out a hand, making little sounds to lure her back out.

Just as he can spot the green eyes blinking back at him, a banknote is dropped into his hand.

“Here,” a voice says, “It’s cold out.”

Shouta freezes, only to look up into your face.

“Uh,” he makes, suddenly envious of Kaminari when he cooks his brain. 

“I didn’t mean-” you say just as he exclaims loudly: “There’s a cat.”

“Where?” You ask, peering into the hedge. “I love cats.”

-x-

“This was nice,” you tell him after Dinner, the episode with the Cat now something you can laugh about. “Would you like to do it again sometimes?”

“Yes,” he nods slowly, “I’m sorry if I was a little loopy today. I took… uh, I forgot to take a nap.”

“Ah,” you smile, “You’re getting old too? If I don’t get my usual lunch nap I’m not so nice to be around.”

Shouta laughs. “Somehow I find that hard to believe. You’re very nice to be around.”

“You think so?” You ask, heart skipping a beat when he nods.

“How are your hands?” He looks down at them, “Can I hold them? Or do they still hurt?”

“If you don’t squeeze them I should be fine,” you say, praying that it’s the truth.

It is a little uncomfortable, if you were to tell the truth, but he’s gentle and your heart blooms at the implications.

If only you could put this moment in a jar, keep it for all the days where it’s hard to get up.

 -

“So?” Rumi leans over your desk, grinning wide. “Gimme the scoop.”

“We went out, it was amazing, I don’t know when I’m going to see him again.”

“That’s not the scoop, that’s a short summary. I want every detail. Also, what does it mean you don’t know when you-”

The ringtone of your phone cuts her off. You take a peak only to gasp.

“It’s him. He’s calling.”

“Well, pick up. I’ll come back as soon as you’re finished. And I want all the details.”

-

It’s hard to find time for another date.

Shouta works two fulltime jobs and you’re overwhelmed with just one.

But he calls or texts every day, sending you pics of cats whenever he’s out on patrol.

It’s nice, but it could be nicer.

When he asks what you’re doing and you’re in bed, pain holding you down, you cannot tell him the truth. Because he doesn’t know the truth. And telling him over the phone seems insensitive.

Sometimes he sounds pretty loopy when he calls and you wonder if he’s getting enough sleep. But when you ask him about it he evades the question so masterfully, that you only remember it hours after the call.

“I think I have to come clean,” you tell Rumi one day during lunch, your hands in thick compression gloves to combat the pain. “This season is hitting me hard and I cannot postpone our next date again just because I cannot go anywhere without a cane.”

“I’m sure it’s going to go well. From what you’ve told me about him he seems very nice.”

“Yeah,” you sigh,”so nice I don’t want to lose him.”

-x-

Of all the moments for a migraine to hit, this has to be the worst. 

Okay, maybe the second worst, because he’s not currently fighting someone.

But he’s been pressing his temple against the fridge doors of this Konbini for half an hour now, clearly unsettling the other shoppers, and his painkillers are far, far away in his car’s glove compartment.

Every time he thinks he’s got it now, turning away from the coldness has his lunch rise up in his throat.

“Shouta?” A familiar voice asks and the ice seeps into his veins. It’s you.

“No, I’m not Shouta. You must mistake me for someone else.”

“You’re wearing a nametag. Backward, but you’re wearing it.”

He sighs. “Can you just pretend you’re not seeing me?”

“I could, but why?”

“This is embarrassing.”

“I mistook you for a homeless man, I think we’ve already reached top embarrassment.”

“I’m having a Migraine.”

“See,” he can hear the encouragement in your voice, knows exactly how your mouth curls at the words even if he cannot see it. “That’s very low on the embarrassment list. Do you need a painkiller?”

“Yeah, but they’re in my car.”

“What are you using.”

“I doubt you have that. You can only get it via prescription.”

Shouta names it, hears you chuckle.

“Oh, you bet I got that. One pill is enough, right?”

“Right.” He can hear rustling before a pill is pressed into his hands. He swallows it dry. 

“It will take me a minute to come to my senses.”

“No worry at all. I can stay here with you.”

“You don’t have to.”

“Oh, but I want to. By the way… the Bloodwork… was that about your Migraine?”

“Yeah,” he swallows around the lump in his throat. “And other stuff.”

“Mhm.” Some more rustling.

“How did you get those pills by the way? You don’t work in a pharmacy, right?”

“Oh, no, I don’t deal drugs if that’s what you’re asking.” You laugh, but it tapes off awkwardly. “I… I suffer from chronic pain.”

“I’m sorry.”

You laugh again, but you don’t sound amused. “Yeah, me too.”

Silence settles between them. Slowly, the pain in his head eases into something manageable and he peels himself away from the cool glass to look at you.

You’re staring at the ground, a cane in your hands. 

“I’m going to be pretty loopy for the rest of the day,” he tells you, lump in his throat, “But do you wanna grab a coffee after this?”

The surprise in your eyes tells you what he’d already assumed. You’re not used to people accepting your condition as something that just is. 

“Might ask you some questions as soon as my head works properly again,” he adds like a threat, “but for now I’d just like to look at you. You’re really pretty.”

“You’re really loopy,” you giggle.

“Mhm, it’s going to get even worse, sugardrop.” His hand finds your elbow, careful to avoid your hands and you knock your head lightly against his shoulder.

You’re probably a weird-looking couple to the outside world, but he’s never cared much about that anyway.

[sheisjoeschateau]

misha's masterlists

Hi, I'm Misha. Thank you for diving into my stories and supporting my writing :)

My fanfics [+this blog] are dedicated to Steve Harrington. All fanfic series, one-shots, blurbs, etc. listed below are written by me. Do not repost or share anywhere without proper credit. Thank you.

SERIES MASTERLISTS:

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"Oh, so we DO love Steve..."

Steve Harrington x Bauman!fem!reader enemies to lovers, heavy angst, hurt/comfort, upside down mayhem, S2-S4, post S4 universe hot-take, end-of-the-world / dystopian setting, ugly fights turned smut (...but with hella plot). 18+

[PART I] | [PART II] [PART III] | [PART IV] | [PART V] [PART VI] | [PART VII] | [PART VIII]

[Part IX - blurb] | [Part IX - full]

[Part X] | MORE COMING SOON

SUMMARY: WHEN THE UNEXPECTED NIECE OF MURRAY BAUMAN GETS THROWN IN THE MIX, THE GANG HAS NO IDEA JUST WHAT THEY'RE IN FOR. SCRATCH THAT - STEVE DOESN'T KNOW. YOU GET ALONG WITH EVERYONE WELL. YOU BANTER WITH THE ADULTS, WHO APPRECIATE YOUR HELP. THE KIDS LOVE AND WORSHIP YOU. YOU'RE HELPFUL ALL AROUND. BUT AS FAR AS STEVE IS CONCERNED, YOU'RE JUST NUISANCE. AFTER ALL, YOU'RE THE REASON HE LOST THE LOVE OF HIS LIFE AND MISSED OUT ON A LIFE THAT "COULD'VE BEEN." IF YOU HAD JUST KEPT YOUR SORRY ASS OUT OF THE PICTURE... IF YOU HAD NEVER GONE WITH NANCY AND JONATHAN AFTER THEY LEFT YOUR WHACK-JOB UNCLE, MURRAY BAUMAN'S, BUNKER? HE WOULD BE HAPPY. SO F*CKING HAPPY. BUT HERE YOU WERE. YOU WERE BASICALLY THE COOLER (...AND SURE, MUCH MORE ATTRACTIVE) FEMALE VERSION OF MURRAY BAUMAN. YOU WERE SARCASTIC, QUICK-WITTED, TOO SMART FOR YOUR OWN GOOD, AND APPARENTLY BUILT FOR THE WAR. SURE, YOU WEREN'T AS BRASH AS YOUR UNCLE. BUT IN STEVE'S EYES, YOU WERE SOMEHOW FAR MORE OBNOXIOUS. HE DOWNRIGHT HATED YOU.

HE WILL FOREVER HATE YOU...

BUT WILL HE?

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"You're there. You've always been there."

Steve Harrington x OC!fem!reader Childhood friends to lovers. Sloooowburn. Angst. Romance. Smut with plot. Action. Told from second-person view, reader is Nicole (character from S1), different POV, hurt/comfort, upside down mayhem, pre-S1-S4, eventual post-S4 universe.

[PART I] | [PART II]

Summary: Steve Harrington was six years old when he met you: Nicole St. James, the girl who carries the other half of him. Since 1972, the two of you have been inseparably tethered by the soul. You give Steve a home in his big house with no parents, and he gives your introverted heart a longing for someone. The King of Hawkins High and princess of this small town, you tell each other absolutely everything...except that you are in love with each other.

Everything changes that one afternoon at school, when you catch the school's social outcast -- Jonathan Buyers -- has been stalking Steve, his posse and his girl, Nancy. Little do you both know, the monsters in your favorite fairytales are real. And you're both going to have to fight them together.

You both share the best days and worst days, through childhood and teen years, until you both find yourselves roped into the perils that exist beneath your feet in Hawkins.

But through it all, despite all the doubt, Steve knows one thing: you're there. You've always been there.

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"At the Chateau, We'll Be Alright."

Steve Harrington x Jonathan Byers x fem!reader A crossover au inspired by Saltburn and Call Me by Your Name. Additional Inso from Joe's theater performance as in Spring Awakening. Song Inso: "Chateau" by Djo

Strangers to best friends to lovers. Slowburn. Angst. Romance, with polyamory themes and schemes. Smut with hella plot.

[MULTI-PART SERIES] COMING SOON. Click here for a preview.

Summary: The reader lives with her parents at a fancy chateau, in France.  This year, her father offers their home as a housing sanctuary to a select student or graduate.  He decides to invite two graduate students to live with their family over the summer, coming from different working class backgrounds, and help with their academic paperwork as a professor of archaeology.

Steve Harrington: a rich kid from a swanky boarding school with a bad boy reputation and too much charm for his own good.  Surprisingly, his grades say otherwise.  A’s and B’s, his parents claim that is seeking one-on-one tutoring so that he can progress in his studies — but it sounds more like an excuse to ship him off for longer periods of time, giving them an out for having their son around during the summer.  The pretty boy’s all about ladies…but that’s only because he hasn’t met a boy who awakens his bisexuality.  Yet.

Jonathan Byers: a kid from the lower working class, excelling in his studies and AP programs at the same boarding school as Steve which he only got into because of community sponsorship and grants.  Quiet wallflower, little to no friends, a bit cynical.  A closeted gay, he’s more determined to stick with being perceived as “ace” than come out of the closet.  Until he goes to stay at a chateau with a handsome boy, and a beautiful girl who understands him.

Twists, turns and terrifying risks, you all put your hearts on the line that summer at the Chateau. Add the reader's cousin Eddie into the mix, along with her best friend Robin, Steve's ex-girlfriend Nancy, Jonathan's estranged mother and your progressive parents alongside Steve's absent parents -- it's a cruel summer.

[girlbloggerbae13]

Against Better Judgement - Part 1

I have re-entered my hyperfixation of The Boys due to season 4's release. Unfortunately I am a maladaptive daydreamer and can insert an original character into any given piece of media. So this is a Butcher x OC story, where OC is Hughie's big sister...so it does fit the story of the show pretty much to a tee (that is just how my brain cooks it up, sorry) - but there will be more details, side stories, etc to make it more fun for the Butcher storyline! And of course, it's written in OC's pov, so you get to know her backstory and thought process quite a bit. Please let me know what you think!

At 2 o’clock in the afternoon, Mickey should have been awake. A functioning, stable, put-together 29 year-old would be. Not Mickey. She was passed out in bed (a full size mattress resting on the floor in her room), her body still trying to process all the alcohol she had consumed the night before. And the morning before. As well as the few consecutive days before that. That’s how it had been for as long as she could remember, at least since – 

The phone rang. Mickey groggily lifted her head from the pillow, reaching for her cell phone. She had apparently neglected to plug it in before she fell asleep last night. Hughie? She stumbled over to the corner, where her charger was plugged in, not quite able to reach the bed. I’ve been meaning to call him.

“Hughie? I’m sorry, I really have–,” she started, already guiltily rambling, but she was cut off by her brother’s wails. “Hughie?” He wasn’t stopping. “Hugh? Hugh? Hey, what happened? Hughie?” Mickey was already standing up and putting her shoes on, despite the hangover-induced migraine that was making her ears ring. 

Hughie sniffled, gasping, then went silent. His breath was shaky. “Hughie?” Mickey warily said to her brother.

“She, she was j-just standing there,” he started.

“Who was? Hugh. I’m on my way, but I need you to tell me what happened.”

“We were just…I was leaving work, and she…,” his voice cracked as Mickey grabbed her keys, wallet, and flask. Empty. She’d grab something on the way to fix whatever had ruffled her little brother’s feathers. He was a sensitive kid, always had been. It was probably just some car accident he had seen while going on lunch, or even worse, he had been riding his bike and, distracted by the great Billy Joel, accidentally hit a kid. That had happened before. That would make sense. Everything is okay. The bad stuff happens to me, not him. 

“Robin.” He was gasping for air now. Mickey’s heart dropped. “She was one step off the fucking…and he just came out of nowhere…she– I, I didn’t have time to…God, Mick, oh my God, Mickey…Robin, she’s gone.”

Mickey was about to open the door, but she turned around and threw up in the kitchen sink.

—

“The service was beautiful,” Dad said. Mickey had to stifle her laughter. She always did during times like these. Funerals, memorials, the like. The drinking helped, for a little bit at least. When it stops helping, it just means you need to drink more. 

Mickey took a sip of her drink – some shitty wine her dad had likely bought to assuage the “divorcee blues” – and took a look at her brother. He was staring forward, scowling, with blank eyes. She knew what he was thinking. Hughie was asking himself what he could have done differently. What he could have said, or in his instance, where he could have stood differently. He’s wishing it was him instead of Robin. Maybe he’s thinking about joining Robin in death, or maybe that had just been Mickey when her husband died.

She had stood, motionless, next to Liam’s casket, as friends and family came up to her and gave their condolences. Mickey had sat with her head down, avoiding eye contact with Liam’s mother and father. He had been an only child. Perfect Liam. Hughie had nudged her to signal that it was the part of the funeral where she was supposed to stand for the family honors. Had they never married, the “honors” would have gone to his parents. She was the one that wanted a big, white wedding. 

Mickey’s eyes had been squeezed shut as the rifle volleys were fired. Why do they fire blanks at a military funeral? The loud noises can’t be good for attendees suffering from PTSD. Like Liam had been. Mickey counted the shots.

One. Liam's face flashed in her mind.

Two. She squeezed her eyes tighter.

Three. Everything Mickey had ever wanted. Gone.

One of the other soldiers started playing Taps. She didn’t even have tears left, just rage. Mickey wanted to grab the stupid fucking bugle and slam it on her husband’s casket until it split open. She wanted to pick Liam up by the collar of his stupid fucking uniform and shake him back to life. She wanted to scream at him for leaving her a stupid fucking mess. For leaving her alone. All alone. She wanted to smash his head into the pavement until he died. Again.

They handed her – the next of kin – the neatly folded American flag. Mickey didn’t want it; she would have happily given it to her in-laws. She didn’t need another reminder of the mess he had gotten himself, or herself into, for that matter. Liam and his stupid patriotism. He had worshiped Supes, but unlucky for him, wasn’t gifted with any super ability. So he joined the military. For what? A couple years overseas firing at whatever your commanding officer told you to, a shitty government job where you’re just another cog in the wheel of the “Great Big American Dream” (the military industrial complex), and a never ending B-roll of whatever tragedies you had bore witness to. Mickey’s superiority complex had gotten her into psychology, then into the FBI’s training program to be a special agent. But this happened. And when you fire a gun at your officer’s foot – it was the ground next to him…it was never going to actually hit him…she had fantastic aim, and he was pissing her off – you can’t be a special agent. 

That left her a widow at 26. Jobless. And an escalating alcoholic. 

That wouldn’t happen to Hughie, though. Mickey wouldn’t let it. 

She was brought back to reality by her dad. “Michaela, please make sure your brother signs the papers today. It’s what Robin would have wanted” She waved off her dad, scoffing.

The Vought attorney? Paralegal? PR motherfucker. Had some sense of entitlement coming in and asking Hugh to keep his mouth shut. And for only $45,000, as if that could immediately fix his grief. Obviously, it would work in Vought’s favor. No one would ever know that A-Train had run right through Robin, leaving only her hands, still holding on to Hughie’s. And the TV “apology” the asshole had given was disingenuous, to say the least, and a cover-up, to tell the truth. In the middle of the road? Yeah, right. 

“Can I think on it?” Hughie asked the suit. Mickey breathed out a sigh of relief. It’s not like she hated Supes in general, but they reminded her of the military – especially Homelander – so each day her distaste for Vought, The Seven, and any asshole with super-strength grew exponentially. 

“Good choice,” Mickey told her brother after she hastily escorted the suit out the door. “I know the money seems nice, but in my experience, it only pisses you off more. Plus, you’ll probably blow it on something stupid.”

“Like booze?” Hughie gave a half-smile to his sister for the first time since the accident.

“Ha-ha, asshole. Exactly like booze. I’ll stop when I’m ready to come back to real life.”

“Well while you continue to bury yourself in liquor, I’m going to bury myself in work.”

“Not any time soon, though, right?” Mickey asked, standing up.

“Why not? It’ll be a good distraction.” Hughie shrugged. This behavior wasn’t like Hughie at all, granted she had never witnessed him after he lost a significant other before, not like this. Maybe it will be beneficial, at least more beneficial than the coping mechanisms she chose. Everyone handles grief differently, right?

—

“Sorry, we’re closing–” Hughie turned to see Mickey walking through the tech store door. “Oh. We are getting ready to close.”

“I know, I know. I’m not here to shop. Now that you’re back at work, stupidly, might I add, I wanted to offer my free labor. I figured we could do the opposite of what we did when we were little and had chores. You get to sit and boss me around, and tell me what to do,” Mickey dropped the Tupperware of funeral food on the checkout counter. “Plus, I brought you dinner.”

“Really? Funeral leftovers?”

Mickey rolled her eyes. “Look, dude, it was already made. Now will you tell me what wires I need to put where so we can go home and–”

Both the Campbell siblings turned to the door. The bell rang, and the door was open, but neither of them could see a customer.

“Who are you?” A voice said.

“What the fuck?” The siblings said in unison.

“Right in front of you, pricks.” They were staring at the voice when whoever it was held up a small disc, waving it in Hughie’s face. “You think I wouldn’t find this thing?”

“What did you do, Hugh?” Mickey asked her brother, gritting her teeth. Wanting revenge on A-Train was one thing, but if her hunch was correct, this invisible guy was none other than Translucent. How did he get tangled up with one of the other Seven?

The Supe grabbed Hugh’s badge. “Hughie,” he jeered, then without warning, slammed Hugh face down into the counter, cracking the glass case. Hugh was launched over the counter. “Pussy! I followed you from the fucking tower,” Translucent said, lifting Hughie up again.

“The fucking tower?” Mickey was now yelling, but still frozen. “What the fuck, Hugh?”

Hughie was then launched into one of the store’s windows, cracking it. She had to do something. “Oh, and who’s this, Hughie? Your little accomplice?” The voice got closer, and Mickey could hear footsteps making their way towards her. 

An invisible hand grabbed her by the hair, and she instinctively raised her knee, hard, hoping to hit Translucent where it mattered. He groaned, releasing her hair. Mickey tried to dash over to her brother, but was yanked up by her hair again and thrown backwards into a shelf of routers. Now her and Hughie were both on the ground, coughing, and Mickey still had no fucking clue what was going on. She propped herself up against what was left of the shelf, blinking and trying to reset her eyes. 

“Who’s that guy you were with? In the car?” Translucent asked a panting Hughie. “Who was he? He put you up to this?” Now he was screaming, Hughie trying to escape, and Mickey was trying to get herself on her feet. 

“I, I don’t know! He was just some Uber driver, okay?” Hughie’s voice cracked as he pleaded with the Supe. 

Mickey grabbed an extension cord from the ground and slowly prepared to blindly wrangle their attacker, but unable to see the Supe, she didn’t see him making his way over to the wall closest to her, and in one fell swoop, Translucent grabbed the extension cord and threw it, and Mickey still holding on, to the opposite side of the store. She landed behind the shattered glass counter, still faintly able to understand what was transpiring through the ringing the blow had left in her ears.

“Oh don’t give me some bullshit! Uber driver?” Translucent mocked Hughie. Mickey could see a TV being lifted off its wall mount. “What, you think I’m some fucking idiot?” Translucent was walking over to Hugh, the flat-screen lifted high. “Why’d you plant the bug?”

“Please, please. Please, please, no. Please,” Hughie pleaded.

“We’re The Seven. Earth’s most mighty.”

Mickey had to do something. She propped herself up and took position to leap onto the invisible asshole. 

“Champions of the innocent, motherfuc–”

A car drove right into the shop, shattering the windows, knocking down merchandise, and just barely missing Hughie. “Sorry about the mess,” a bearded man said as he exited the vehicle. “You should fuck off, Hughie.”

Mickey stood up shakily. Now she was really confused. “Who the fu–”

The Cockney-accented man turned towards her. “You must be the sister. Sorry to meet’cha under these circumstances, but you two need to scram.”

Holding a tire-iron, the man slowly walked towards where Translucent had landed, smirking. “Well if it ain’t the invisible cunt,” he chuckled to himself, then began swinging blindly around the TV wall. Moments later, he was launched into a rack of pagers.

“Hughie, Hughie, you heard him, we need to go,” Mickey said, trying to usher her brother onto his feet and away from the store.

“No, no,” Hughie stood up, brushing her off. “We can’t leave him here.”

“What the hell are you talking about? Yes, we can!” Mickey was practically pulling Hughie to the emergency exit when he stopped in his tracks. “Hugh. Hugh! No, don’t even–”

Hughie stepped back into the floor of the store with such force that he yanked her back with him. Mickey huffed and ran her hands through her hair. She inhaled and blood ran down her throat, greeting her with the familiar metallic taste.

Brit was attempting – and failing – to wrestle Translucent to the ground. Looked like he was tasting that red metal too, because with an erratic grin, he spat blood all over the Supe, revealing Translucent’s position. Smart. The bearded man then had the upper hand after headbutting the “invisible cunt” and landing a few punches, whilst slowly covering more of the Supe’s body outline with more bloody spit. 

Though England put up a good fight, Translucent got one good lick in, and the man was down on the ground. Translucent looked up at Mickey, who, overcome with agitation and confusion, had not moved her feet, and she was now standing directly behind the groaning Brit. She swallowed a mouthful of blood. She was trained for this at one point in time, right? She at least had the pent-up anger for this. Mickey stepped over the Brit’s body.

“Hey, sweetheart, why don’t you just come back to the Tower with me, and I’ll make sure you don’t ever have to see these assholes ever ag–”

Mickey cut him off with a punch, slugging Translucent right across his face. Predatorial asshole. “Fuck,” she hissed, shaking her hand. She forgot how much she hated hand-to-hand combat.

Translucent stumbled a little, but popped back up, rubbing the side of his jaw. “Look, lady, I’ll give you that one, but let’s just–”

Mickey hit him again, this time with an uppercut. He charged back at her, grabbing her hair – again? – and landing a few blows to her stomach. Mickey snapped back into it, grabbing his forearm and pulling herself around so that her back was against the Supe’s chest. She flung her head back. Hard.

The Supe instinctively launched her into the wall. Now she could really taste the blood. But before she could steady herself, Translucent kicked her in the stomach, knocking her through the wall of TVs.

Thankfully, this had given England enough time to regain his strength, and he stood up, ready to attack, when Translucent gave him the same swift kick he had just given Mickey. 

“So who are you?” Translucent asked. “Fucking spy?! For who, huh? You’re gonna fucking tell me!” Translucent picked up the Brit’s tire iron from the ground. “Or I’m gonna smash your fucking scalp off! Who the fuck are you?”

Through the Mickey-sized hole in the wall, she could see Brit propped up on one of his elbows, smirking. “I’ll tell you who you are,” he said. “A fucking moron. Translucent doesn’t even mean invisible. It means semi-transparent.” England made a quick glance to the other side of the store, where Mickey was able to faintly see Hughie holding an exposed wire. Hughie’s wire couldn’t reach, so England quickly kicked the Supe, sending him backwards where he waltzed right into the wire.

Translucent screamed as he got electrocuted, lighting up the store. Hughie kept screaming until Translucent’s limp body fell backwards onto the ground.

England stood up with a groan, and through shaky breaths, Hughie asked, “Is he…is he dead?”

The bearded man kicked the Supe. “Well he ain’t movin’.”

Mickey, limping, emerged from the wall she had been kicked through, and ignoring the mystery man and the Supe, yelled at Hughie, “I’m gonna need some answers, Hugh. What the fuck have you gotten into?” She gestured back at England. “And who the fuck is he?”

England put up a hand to silence her. “Whoa, whoa, darlin’, don’t fret. Name’s Butcher, and I’m just a friendly neighbor helpin’ out’ya brother here, alright?” He turned to Hughie. “Now, kid, how’d you know the electric could do the job?”

Hughie was still sitting against the TV wall. “Skin’s carbon…highly conductive. I saw it on, uh, Jimmy Fallon…”

Butcher raised an eyebrow, “Would have taken me forever to work that one out. Good job.” One thing about Hughie is that he knows the most random shit. This time it might have just saved them. Butcher made his way to Translucent’s lifeless body, and against her better judgment, Mickey followed his lead. Hughie wasn’t going to go down for this. “Let’s get ‘em in the boot.”

Hughie brought his hands up to his head. “W-wait, wait what?”

“The trunk,” Mickey and Butcher said in unison.

“See, your sister knows the lingo,” Butcher said while trying to get a grip on the Supe’s upper half.

Hughie looked at his sister, then at Butcher. “No, no, I mean, what are we doing with him?” Hughie was panicking now.

Butcher looked up at Hughie. “Well, Hughie, you just offed one of The Seven, mate.”

Mickey let out a mix of a scoff and a laugh, much to Hughie’s dismay. “Me? I…I…,” He turned his gaze to Mickey. “You’re okay with this, Mick?”

“Well no, but…I mean, he has a point, and I’m not getting in trouble for this.”

“What?! I…I…Butcher, you hit him with a fucking car!” Hughie shouted.

Butcher dropped Translucent’s torso. “Look, potato fucking potahto, we’re all in a shitload of trouble–”

“No, no! No, no, we’re not. He attacked us, and you’re…you’re a federal officer, you know?” Hughie argued, and Mickey dropped the Supe’s legs, standing up to cross her arms. This smug, sloppy, arrogant asshole is not a federal officer. “Just…just call the fucking FBI!”

The hesitation in Butcher’s voice confirmed Mickey’s suspicions. “Yeah, o-okay, so look…technically I’m not a fed,” he said, shrugging, as if this wasn’t just the atomic bomb of all bombs to drop on Hughie right now, let alone a less-than-awesome first impression to have on Mickey. 

“Jesus, fuck,” Mickey started, holding her head in her hands, shaking it.

“WHAT?!” Hughie practically screeched. “Then who the fuck are you?”

[natsukishinomiyaswife]

Reversible

Hello ♡ This is just something I wanted to write for my Into the Yumeverse series, to help me get back into writing ♡ (Sorry for not having posted anything in a while, I've been dealing with health issues!! ♡ I'm trying to get back into the swing of things though, so hopefully I'll be able to write more soon)

*Please note that this fic may not include/mention everyone featured in the series!

OCs featured/mentioned (along with their OC x Canon) include: Yuusha (@crystallizsch) x Jamil, Mayu (@anbaisai) x Jamil, Rebecca (@0honeybones0) x Jamil, Astrid (@cheerleaderman) x Jamil, Damali (@midnightmah07) x Jamil

Silas (@theolivetree123) x Jamil, Fayrouz (@fell-e) x Jamil, Dranav (@justm3di0cr3) x Jamil, Jeanne (@midnightmah07) x Kalim, Copper (@cyanide-latte) x Kalim

Chris (@selfinserttothestars) x Malleus, Leota (@twsted-canvas) x Malleus, Sophie (@gl00myb3arz) x Malleus, Ellis (@starry-night-rose) x Malleus, Shuu (@oya-oya-okay) x Azul

Jewel (@jewelulu) x Floyd, Lysander (@offorestsongs) x Rook, Hopper (@amatsuchan-eiliniel) x Rook, Lizette (@twstgo) x Jamil

Enjoy! ♡

Lydia entered Scarabia with a sigh, feeling more exhausted than she expected. It was barely afternoon, yet she's had nothing but issues to deal with. First was Sebek, shouting angrily earlier this morning. Apparently Malleus has been leaving early in the morning with his group, spending each day out with them until the sun set. While Sebek believes it's dangerous for his liege to be "disappearing" with strangers, she knew Malleus had a good reason, not wanting them to be subjected to Lilia's cooking.

It happened when she first introduced Chris, Leota, Sophie, and Ellis to Malleus, Lilia watching with interest in the background. He was excited to have some new faces around Diasomnia, especially those who care for Malleus, telling them he would cook them something special. A welcome dinner is what he called it, Malleus leading them away as soon as Lilia left for the kitchen.

She reminds Sebek that Malleus will be back later, as he planned to cook dinner together with everyone (as a compromise). Having left Octavinelle in a hurry, she made her way back to check on Shuu and Jewel, finding them both in the Mostro Lounge.

"Ah, Lydia-" Azul starts as she made her way towards him, words getting cut off.

"I thought I told you not to work them in the Lounge! They're our guests, not free labor." Lydia states, putting her hands on her hips as a displeased expression comes to her face. Her attitude with Azul seems different than how it is with the others, feeling similar to how Jamil acts around him.

Azul clears his throat before responding, having expected her reaction. "Yes, but Floyd has a shift today. And you entrusted Jewel to his care, did you not? How can he watch after her, if she isn't here with him?"

"She could be a customer, or wait for him in one of the booths. She could even spend time with Jade if she wished, or anyone else on campus."

"Jade works today as well, and I doubt she would enjoy spending hours alone in a booth. If you're worried about compensation, I can assure you she will be paid for her work." Azul states, figuring the discussion would end there. One of Lydia's eyebrows raise as she gives him a look, already knowing what Jewel (and Shuu's) "pay" will be.

"With more than just a free drink, right?"

"..."

"Right?" Lydia stands there waiting, not budging on the subject.

Azul hesitates a moment before clearing his throat, muttering "... I'll see what I can do." His response seemed to satisfy her, dropping the subject as she went on her way.

Before heading to Scarabia, she passes by the Science club, checking in on Lysander and Hopper. Rook was showing them an experiment he was working on, with Trey chiming in on occasion.

As she entered the main room, Lydia was surprised to find Yuusha, Fayrouz, and Mayu wearing different clothes. Their shirts now read "Jamil Hate Club", the colors opposite of the "Jamil Support Group" shirts. Before she could question it, Jamil noticed where her eyes were drawn, saying with a sigh, "They're reversible."

"... What?"

"The shirts Yuusha made... they're reversible." He repeats, gesturing towards them. She wasn't sure how to respond, surprised by the craftsmanship of the shirts and how... thorough they were.

"Oh, are they reversible?" Kalim questioned, lifting the "Jamil Support Group" shirt he wore to see for himself. His didn't appear to be reversible, looking to Yuusha in confusion.

"Not all of them are, only... certain ones..." Yuusha informed him, Kalim nodding his head in understanding.

"I thought I told you not to wear that..." Jamil muttered under his breath, looking away from Kalim shaking his head. While Kalim sat between Jeanne and Copper, Jamil sat away from everyone. Not far from his group, but not close enough to be considered sitting next to them. If anything, it looked like he was sitting next to noodle Jamil (the snake plush) and...

"Is that stuffed animal... curry...?" Lydia asks, pointing to his right. She's never seen anything quite like it before, a stuffed animal made to look like a plate of curry, with a side eye expression on it's face.

"That's Jamicurry." Mayu chimes in, moving to stand beside Lydia. "It's hard to tell which is the real Jamil when they're lined up like this, don't you think?" Mayu teases, gesturing towards Jamil and the plushies. The expression on his face shifts at her words, now matching his plush companions (and proving her point).

"I'm surprised you stopped by today, considering the sleepover tomorrow." Jamil states, changing the subject. Since Kalim wasn't able to throw a welcome party for everyone, Lydia suggested having a slumber party instead, with everyone staying the night at Scarabia. Kalim loved the idea and immediately began planning it (with some help from the others), having sent out the invitations for it a few days prior.

"Well..." Lydia starts, growing nervous as she walks back to the doorway. She sticks her head out towards the hall, gesturing for someone to come. She moves out of the way as Lizette appears, unsure what to do with her hands other than gesture towards her.

"We may have... a new member... in the Jamil Viper Support Group..." She does her best to get out, noticing how done Jamil looks. "...Surprise?"

"I'll get you a shirt." Yuusha says, walking down the hall. At the same time Rebecca approaches Lizette, telling her, "I'll introduce you to everyone." before leading her towards the group.

"You've got to be kidding me..." Jamil mumbles, covering his face with his hands. Just where were all these people coming from?

"But hey! Sleepover tomorrow! That'll be fun..." Lydia says, hoping to make the situation better. No one else is gonna magically appear... right? ♡

I hope you guys enjoyed! ♡ Next will be the sleepover with everyone (held at Scarabia) and then the group breakfast (held at Heartslabyul) ♡

Thank you! ♡

[justrainandcoffee]

Mercy (Arthur and Tommy Shelby) + (Luca Changretta x fem!oc)

Summary: Who's that tall black woman entering the Garrison without asking permission? Arthur Shelby felt something when he saw her. She was looking around, when finally she saw his blue eyes. "Who are ya?" he asked. "Mrs. Changretta," she answered "and you're the one who killed Luca."

Warnings: None.

Words: 1.7k || I'm sorry if I didn't capture Arthur's voice perfectly. It's hard enough to write in other language 🙃.

Over a year ago.

One of her friends was trying to comfort her. Kelly was a dancer in the same place that Aveline sang and the same as her, she was a black woman.

Rumours were too loud to be false. And that explained his disappearance. Aveline was walking to her home when she first heard it.

"Luca Changretta is dead."

"He was betrayed. A mad man killed him."

Luca was dead. Aveline felt her heart breaking in thousand pieces but she refused to believe it. Anyone but Luca.

Next time she heard it was at her workplace. She was leaning against the counter when one man said to the other that the Changretta clan were part of the history now.

"Arthur Shelby."

"The peaky blinder?"

"The eldest one, yes. He shot him."

Her eyes filled with tears. Luca was an assassin and she knew that probably deserved to die, but it didn't mean that it hurt less.

"I'm going to England," he had said to her their last night together "I have business with certain family. But I'll return to you, amore mio."

Aveline smiled at him, while Luca kissed her bare shoulders. "Will you be alright?"

"Of course, Linnie. As always. My sweet Linnie."

They made love once again. That same night Luca gifted her his pocket watch and a brooch made of gemstones. "So you can remember me," he said. "You know, beautiful lillies are Italy national flower and when I saw this brooch I thought it was a perfect present for you. You're a beautiful flower."

She kissed him. Months later, Aveline still could feel his lips over hers and his tongue in her mouth. Luca was as passionate as dangerous.

That was the last memory she had of him.

Now

Birmingham has nothing to do with New York. It was cloudy, cold, rainy and full of mud. And in comparison it was really small. You could hide in New York but apparently not in Birmingham.

Small Heath was almost empty. Very few people pay attention to her.

"Where's the Garrison?" she asked to a man who was selling milk.

"Two blocks away, ma'am. But be careful, not good people."

"I know. And I appreciate your help, sir."

Arthur was smoking and drinking whiskey waiting for Tommy who was dealing with new partners and Michael. Their cousin was starting to be a nuisance and they tolerate him only because of Polly.

Some men were drinking there as well, minding their own business.

The door opened again. This time the person who entered was a really tall woman. Arthur looked at her. Her slim and yet curvy figure was covered by a purple dress. Her gloves were black as her hair. And Arthur could say that she was a pretty woman but most of all, he was impressed by her height. Taller than him, for sure who was the tallest of the family. So different from his wife. The black woman talked quietly with the barman and he pointed to Arthur who gulped.

He stood up when she walked towards him. He wasn't used to see people taller than him. He had to lift up his head to look at her.

"Good afternoon," she greeted.

"Good afternoon, ma'am. How can I help ya?"

"Are you Arthur Shelby?"

"Indeed, ma'am. The owner of this foockin' bar. Who are ya?"

The black woman extended her hand and Arthur took it "Aveline is my name. I'm from New York… and I'm Mrs. Changretta."

A cold shiver ran through his spine. Luca Changretta was married? That killer bastard had a woman? How could Tommy ignore that? Arthur could see Luca behind his wife smiling triumphantly at him.

"Did you really think that you could kill me without consequences, Shelby?" He imagined Luca bitting his toothpick and smirking. "I just sent you my beautiful black angel."

Arthur blinked, still confused. Luca Changretta had a woman and she was there, probably, to kill him.

"May I sit down?"

"Sure, yeah. Yes." Arthur moved the chair and helped her. Then ordered the barman to bring her a glass of gin.

"How can I help ya?" He asked seconds later when they were alone once again.

"I need answers. I really need answers." Aveline touched the glass but didn't drink. Her long fingers grabbed it, feeling the coldness of it. "Why?" Now her dark brown eyes were looking at him.

Arthur drunk another glass of whiskey before answering. "He killed my little brother. My Johnny boy. Then he tried to kill us one by one. I had to."

"You talked as you didn't have another chance."

"I foockin' didn't. It was him or us."

.

"Who's the woman Arthur is talking to?" Tommy Shelby arrived at the pub and saw his brother talking to a woman he had never seen before. The barman shrugged.

"No idea, Mr. Shelby, she came in and asked for Arthur they're talking since then."

From the distance, Tommy studied his brother. Arthur clearly wasn't flirting with her, he wasn't trying to seduce her. Arthur was uncomfortable, but the question was why.

The leader of the Peaky Blinders walked towards them. He put his cap inside his pocket and approached the lady.

"Who are you?" she asked confused by his attitude.

"Don't you know who am I?"

"Should I? I have no clue who the hell are you, sir, but I'm talking with this gentleman."

"He's my brother," interrupted Arthur. "The one in charge: Tommy."

So that was Thomas Shelby? Aveline stood up slowly and looked at him. He barely surpassed her breasts. She saw his blue eyes trying to reach hers, so Aveline lowered her head facing him. "Good afternoon, then, sir."

But Tommy wasn't a man who could be easily intimidated, not even for a tall woman. Why was she so tall? So he didn't apart his eyes from hers. The woman barely blink.

"She's Changretta's wife," Arthur said looking at the table. Only then Tommy stared at his brother and then at the woman again. "Luca Changretta in any case," clarified.

Tommy wasn't sure about it. He investigated. He really did it and as far as he knew, Changretta was a single man. Too busy for love, for a woman. "I need proofs," he said.

"What makes you think that I'm going to show you some proofs apart from my words? Do you want me to prove you that I knew him and that I loved him with every inch if my body? Luca was everything to me."

"He was not married."

"Not officially. Look at me, Mr. Shelby. I'm nothing but a black woman, do you know the atrocities I have to hear day after day? The things his family said to me! But Luca… he was different. We didn't married officially because it's forbidden, because in the eyes of the law I'm less than person. But we did married. Alone, just him and me. I became Mrs. Changretta one cold night after a particularly bloody massacre. I didn't approve it, but I always accepted Luca the same way he accepted me. I'm Mrs. Changretta. Like it or not."

Tommy lit a cigarette. It didn't seem to him that the woman was lying. Only a wife could talk that way of a man like Luca. What she wanted, then? Money? He offered her a cheque but Aveline cursed him.

"I came here because I needed to talk to Arthur Shelby. His name crossed the ocean. Of course, the hero who killed the monster."

"Not a hero, ma'am. Just a man. I won't ask for your forgiveness, this just our job."

"I don't believe in forgiveness. I don't believe in mercy. And considering your job, I don't think you believe in it either. Don't worry about that."

Aveline studied the eldest brother. Unlike the other one, he looked defeated. She imagined Arthur Shelby like a knight in a shining armour. Brave, arrogant, despicable. Instead, he was nothing but just a man. Probably haunted by his own demons. Amazing that he was the one who killed her Luca. Her poor Luca. It seemed he was more willing to talk until Thomas Shelby appeared, now it looked like he was looking for his permission to open the mouth. Tommy Shelby was clearly in charge.

"Then, if you already talked to Arthur and if you don't want money. Maybe what you want is protection, a shelter… I know a woman in London. She works helping women in need. Her name is Rose Solomons…"

"Ya foockin' kill Alfie!! Ya don't want two widows, thanks to the Shelbys, together, Tom."

"Oh, another one. What a nice hobby. Killing husbands must be a nice entertainment." Aveline, snorted.

"Same hobby as Luca. Ask John's wife what she thinks about it." Tommy replied.

"The same wife who run away from your family with the kids? That one? Esme Lee-Shelby, nice woman… she wants you dead."

Tommy chuckled, "I see you did your job."

"I'm a Changretta, do not underestimate me. But, I'm not a killer. My hands are clean and so is my soul." Aveline closed her eyes just for a few seconds. "Do not fear me. I'm harmless. I'm just a singer and now I'm just delivering a message."

"What's the message?"

"The blood of Luca Changretta will chase you. From now and for the next decades."

"All Changrettas are dead," affirmed Tommy Shelby.

Aveline smiled at him, "Wrong. There's still one. Augustus Caesar Changretta my son. His son. Named after the founder of the Roman Empire. Fascinating, don't you think? Maybe he'd found a new Italian empire. It'd be interesting that in the future a tall black man appears in front of you claiming vengeance for a father he never met."

Their last night together, Luca and Aveline had made a baby. The boy was a little over a year old now. The kid was protected by a person she trusted very much.

Aveline stood up and walked through the pub until she reached the door.

"I don't have anything else to say. Good afternoon, a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Shelbys." She was ready to leave but stopped for a moment "Do you know what Italian word Luca taught me first?"

Arthur shook his head and Tommy just looked at her.

"Vendetta."

[allmoshnobrain]

𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐫

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

part 33 of 35 | masterpost

word count: 2597 | ao3 link | fic's playlist

I could feel his heart tapping against my fingertips, a bit quicker now, a subtle blush coloring his cheeks. His blonde eyelashes looked almost see-through in the sunlight, his blue eyes sparkling and locked onto mine, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. I brought my hands up to his face, running my fingers over it slowly. He let out a sigh, lightly shutting his eyes like he'd been waiting for my touch his whole life.

✦ on this chapter: dave mustaine x female!oc, james hetfield x female! oc, oc is cliff's cousin, +18, language, slice of life, angst, romance

✦ a/n: Hi, everyone! I posted this chapter a little later than usual because I was too busy today, but it's here! Sorry for the delay. Also, some of you may have already seen this, but: I missed writing about Dave and Nore happy together a lot these last few days, so I posted a small extra chapter set somewhere between chapters 16 and 17 for all my Dave and Nore enjoyers 🖤 You can read it here. Hope you liked reading, feedback is welcome!

✧ you don't have to leave, you could just stay here, with me / forget all the party police, we could find comfort in debauchery ✧

“I should've been there with you,” James's voice, annoyed and concerned, crackled through the phone pressed to my ear. “You shouldn't have dealt with this on your own. I should've been right there beside you.”

“James, it's alright,” I mumbled, sparking a cigarette, propping myself against the payphone stand. It was late afternoon, and I’d dialed James to tell him all about my disastrous mission in Los Angeles. If I wasn't in tears at the moment, it was only because I'd already exhausted my supply in the hours before.

“Of course, it's not okay!” he burst out, matching my frustration. “Did you check with the neighbors? Wasn't there some dude you knew living downstairs?”

“Yeah, Ellefson. He bailed too. Apparently, they moved out together last week. Left no trace for anyone to follow,” I finished the sentence with a tremor in my voice, eyes burning with fresh tears, but I wasn't going to break down now. Not while James was on the line, his concern clear in every word he spoke.

“Fuck. What a mess,” he muttered. “Hey, it's gonna be alright. I think I've got his mom's address; I can try reaching out to her. We'll find him, Nore.”

“Thanks, James,” I said, feeling a bit better knowing that even if the day had turned to crap, he still had my back.

“I'm sorry about all this Pat shit. Had no clue she'd pull a stunt like that.”

“It's fine…”

“No, Nore, it's not. You know, you said the right thing to her. I never want to see that girl again. But I can hop over to Los Angeles if it means making her apologize to you,” he declared, his voice carrying a slightly menacing edge that hinted he might have wanted to go beyond a simple apology.

“James, you really don't have to do that. It'd be just playing into her drama,” I let out a heavy sigh. “All I want is to find Dave and sort this mess out once and for all.”

“We'll track him down, Nore. I promise. Everything's gonna be fine,” James tried to assure me, and I managed a small smile. There was something kinda sweet about how he was going all out to cheer me up, genuinely putting in the effort to help me out, just because it'd make me happy. 

James was just impossible not to like.

“I know, Jamie,” I replied, letting the warmth of my smile show in my voice. “Thank you.”

The rest of February breezed by quickly; I suddenly realized that the one-year anniversary of my move to San Francisco had quietly passed. It seemed pretty wild how everything that had unfolded in the last few months had managed to cram into a year, shaping me in more ways than I could express. It was like I'd been a part of the boys’ life forever, like I couldn’t quite picture who I was without them in the frame.

March rolled in, bringing the end of winter closer and closer. As the days lit up and warmed, James and I kept our long-distance communication going. The phone calls from San Francisco to Long Beach, initially a bit spaced out, soon became almost a daily ritual, and I found myself eagerly anticipating those moments in an entirely new way. Sweet words of affection began to find their way into our conversations more frequently. I had to admit, I missed James more than I'd care to confess — not just the tour moments but also his touch, the sound of his voice and laughter, the blue in his eyes, and even the warmth of his kisses and the feel of his body against mine.

Being back at my parents' house had its perks: with no job on my plate and studies yet to kick in, I found myself drowning in free time. I dedicated most of it to diving into my studies and building up a solid portfolio in visual arts, gearing up for the application grind at the San Francisco Art Institute. The prospect of being in the same city as Cliff and the guys again had me stoked, but in a genuinely good way — I could barely contain my excitement for things to click into place.

Another thing gobbling up my time was my newfound camaraderie with Charlotte, one of my old high school friends. She’d been pouring her heart into her debut starring role in a theatre play, and I'd been chipping in as an unofficial production assistant, giving me a reason to hang out with her and break free from my parents’ house for a bit. On a bright Wednesday morning, the moment I stepped into the auditorium where the theater troupe was fine-tuning their craft, Charlotte threw me a curveball with an unexpected ask.

“Nore!” she squealed with excitement upon spotting me, rushing over and grabbing my hands in hers. Her green eyes looked almost teary, and her lips formed a small pout. “Thank goodness you're here. Everything's going haywire today, and I'm not sure if we can sort it out!”

“What’s going on, Charlie?” I inquired, intrigued, as I shrugged off my jacket, tossing it onto one of the chairs in the vacant audience area. “Did the dressing room light decide to bail on us again? You know I'm useless with those things.”

“Of course not!” she retorted, indignant, and I released a low chuckle.

“Just pulling your leg. What's up?”

“I need you to act in the play.”

I blinked, puzzled, furrowing my brow as I crossed my arms.

“You... Hold on, what? Charlie, the play is in two weeks.”

“I know!” she sighed, slumping into one of the chairs, defeated. “Why do you think I'm so desperate? One of the actresses can't perform anymore. And now the director wants to cancel the play because we won't be able to find a replacement on time!”

“And you want me to step in.”

“Yeah!”

“In a play that's premiering in fifteen days?”

“Nore, you've always been fantastic in our school's Drama Club…”

“No way, Charlie! How am I supposed to pull that off?”

“Nore, please, please, please?” she clasped my hand in hers, her eyes pleading. “It's my first lead role, I've been rehearsing for months! I promise to help you with the lines, I'll do anything!”

I sighed, resigned.

“Fine. But you owe me one,” I replied, and she let out an excited squeal before hugging me.

“Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you! You won't regret it, I promise!”

Well, she was right — I didn't regret it. Actually, practicing for the play turned out to be a lot more fun than I thought. Plus, scoring some free tickets to hand out to my friends and family made me care a bit less about the crazy deadline to cram all those lines into my brain. Charlie and I basically lived in that auditorium for the next few days; I'd roll in there in the morning and wouldn't bail until way into the evening.

When Saturday rolled around, I decided to escape to San Francisco. Stuff for the band was picking up speed after those European shows. After snagging a deal to record the second album at a studio in Denmark, the guys figured a bash was in order to toast to the good news, and obviously, I had to be there. I arranged with my parents to spend the weekend over at Cliff's place with the boys. Luckily, they had some San Francisco business on the horizon, and agreed to drop by and give me a ride back to Long Beach when it was time to head back home.

I let out a sigh as I hit the old house where I used to live with Cliff, Dave, James, and Lars. It was like nothing had changed, memories still stuck in every nook and cranny; the first chats with the guys, James getting less shy as we got tighter, my first kiss with Dave, the first time we slept together, drinking together, smoking together, laughing together, loving together. And it stung, a sharp and dry ache deep in my chest, with the gut feeling that things would never, ever be the same again.

I mixed with the crowd, strolling into the living room; the first familiar face I bumped into was James', whose eyes lit up seeing me, a grin breaking out. He hustled over, grabbing my face and planting a surprise kiss on my lips, leaving me gasping, my face heating up in a flash.

“James!” I blurted out, pupils dilated in shock as I took a step back.

“My bad. Was that a no-go?” he mumbled, a persistent grin suggesting he had no regrets about the kiss. “Just damn happy you showed up.”

“I’m happy to be here too,” I whispered, my face still warm from his gentle touch.

“Geez, you two are such a clingy couple,” Cliff chimed in, coming over. I blushed, pulling James's hands off my face and avoiding eye contact.

“We're not a couple, Cliff,” I muttered, voice low, his comment knotting something strange and uncomfortable in my chest. “Excuse me, I need a drink,” I spun around, heading for the kitchen.

“Nore, hold up,” Cliff tagged along, standing by my side as I raided the fridge for a beer. “What was that just now?”

“Nothing,” I grunted, popping the kitchen door open and stepping into the backyard. Cliff sighed but joined me, leaning against the porch railing.

“Nothing? Seriously? You're not gonna start keeping secrets from me now, after 19 years?” he came closer, tilting his head to be right in my line of sight, impossible to ignore. I sighed, rolling my eyes at his persistence. “Hey. You and James weren't, like, a thing or something?”

“It's not like that,” I grumbled. “It's just... There's just too much going on, Cliff...”

I told him everything then: how James and I had decided to give in to our feelings during the tour, how I’d tried to find Dave after coming back, how everything went wrong, and now I had no clue where he was. And maybe involving James in all this was a mistake because, frankly, with each passing day, I found myself liking him more while still stuck on my feelings for Dave.

“Well, that sucks,” he remarked after I spilled my story, prompting a nervous little laugh from me. “So, you do like James, then?”

“Of course I like him,” I replied, with a resigned sigh.

“You like him, and yet you were upset because he kissed you just now?” he pressed on, and I rolled my eyes.

“Cliff, it's not that simple…”

"No, I get it ain't," he said, sparking up a joint, taking a slow drag before locking eyes with me, dead serious. "I get you still love Dave. I get you're on this quest to find him, and I'm betting it's gonna happen, Nore. You and him, you'll cross paths again 'cause I know you're head over heels for the guy. I'm pretty damn sure you two will work things out. But..." He hesitated, and I shot him a puzzled look. Cliff usually had his words lined up tight. It wasn’t like him to be unsure about anything.

"But?" I prodded, curious. He let out a sigh.

"But things are changing at warp speed for us, Nore," He handed over the joint, and I grabbed it, taking a slow drag. "We're growing up, for crying out loud. I mean, we're about to cut an album in Europe, can you believe that? A year ago, who would've thought? Things are moving quick, do you really wanna skip the chance to catch some happiness along the way? You don't know when you'll stumble upon Dave. No idea how long it'll take to straighten things out with him. Are you gonna keep dodging happiness till then?"

"Cliff, what are you getting at?"

"What I'm getting at, and I can't believe I'm saying this, but fine, what I mean is maybe you should quit fighting what you feel for James. I mean, you liked him before, but let's be real, you rolled back from Europe completely in love with him, didn't you?"

In love. Those words set my face on fire, my heart doing a marathon, and a zillion butterflies doing somersaults in my stomach. My first instinct was to argue with Cliff, but deep down, he wasn't totally off, was he? If I already had a soft spot for James before, now it was more like a full-blown obsession. It felt like a hunger, like I needed him to fill some kind of void inside of me. And somehow, this crazy feeling coexisted with the love I held for Dave, for the empty space he’d left behind. Everything was so damn new that I could barely wrap my head around it, let alone figure out how to handle it.

"I'm not in love with him," I mumbled weakly, and Cliff chuckled, giving me a shoulder hug.

"You're a lousy liar, you know that?" he said, and I rolled my eyes.

"Hey," a familiar voice called, and I glanced up, blushing when I locked eyes with James, propped against the door frame with a beer in hand. "Nore, everything cool?"

"I'm gonna find Lea," Cliff announced, sidestepping and shooting me a suggestive look before leaving me solo with James. I watched him saunter away, feeling my face heat up, and then turned my attention to James, his blue eyes zeroed in on mine.

"You alright? Sorry about that kiss earlier. Didn't mean to upset you," he said, his voice low, stepping close enough for me to sense the heat of his body. His attentive eyes studied my face, as if trying to decode my feelings from my expression. I sighed, my heart racing in a totally new rhythm when he gently cupped my face, resting my hands on his chest as he leaned in.

"James," I murmured, my voice shaking, almost like I was saying his name for the first time. He gave me a slight smile, his gaze zeroing in on my slightly parted lips with poorly disguised desire.

"What?"

"I don't want you thinking I'm here with you just 'cause I haven't tracked down Dave yet."

"I'd never think that," he whispered, edging even closer.

I could feel his heart tapping against my fingertips, a bit quicker now, a subtle blush coloring his cheeks. His blonde eyelashes looked almost see-through in the sunlight, his blue eyes sparkling and locked onto mine, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. I brought my hands up to his face, running my fingers over it slowly. He let out a sigh, lightly shutting his eyes like he'd been waiting for my touch his whole life.

"James," I murmured again, almost like a prayer, and the way I said his name seemed to light up something hungry in him. He yanked me closer, his mouth crashing onto mine with a deep, needy moan. I sighed, trembling, my fingers tangling in his hair as I surrendered to his kiss, the dawning realization that I couldn't resist him any longer.

Actually, that I didn't want to.

He backed off, peppering soft kisses on my lips before resting his forehead against mine. His hands clung to my waist, tugging me close enough for our bodies to touch.

"I think we should head to my room," he murmured, flashing a smile. I chuckled softly, throwing my arms around his neck, and pulled him into another kiss.

✧ if you'd like to be tagged on the next parts, let me know and I'll add you to the tag list! ❤ ✧

tag list: @killazilla777 @whatsupvic @70srogah @genswine9

[bellaireland1981]

Stubborn Hearts | 2

Summary: Reader (Firecracker, Sunshine) has been in love with Bradley since she was a young girl. Growing up the two were inseparable, apart from short periods of time when she was on the West Coast with the Kazanskys. One faithful decision by her dad to block Bradley from going to the Naval Academy resulted in a huge rift between father and daughter and left her without Bradley in her life. Now all grown up, she’s called back to the west coast at the same time as her father and Bradley. Her mission, according to her dying godfather, is to mend fences with her dad and Bradley. Can stubborn hearts be healed?

(I suck at summaries for real).

This will have multiple chapters… this is 2 of ??

Characters: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Mitchell! Reader, Pete “Maverick” Mitchell x Daughter! Reader, The Dagger Squad, Shay (OC), Penny, Tom “Iceman” Kazansky

Word Count: 5373

Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Death of character, TGM Spoilers, Smut (later on ), Turbulent relationship with parent, Friends to lovers, …Please let me know if I’ve missed any!

Part 1     

A/N- This is my first time writing for TGM. I do not own the characters or plot lines from the movie. I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION TO COPY OR REPRODUCE MY WORK ON THIS OR ANY OTHER PLATFORM! Reblogging is always welcome! Feedback is MUCH loved and appreciated. THANK YOU to @waywardodysseys​ for all support and bouncing ideas!!

Taglist: @gracespicybradshaw​ @memoriesat30​

The morning after your run in with Bradley, you came down to your aunt making pancakes in the kitchen. You cousins were sitting at the island, eating and preparing to head out to school shortly.

“Good Morning, Sweetie.” your aunt said, smiling warmly at you, “There’s coffee ready to go if you’d like some. I was expecting you to sleep in this morning.”

“Morning.” You replied, reaching for a mug from the cabinet. “I wasn’t out that late. The night didn’t go great.”

“Oh no.” she replied, pausing to turn to you. “What happened?”

“I ran into Brad…” You replied, “It didn’t go fantastic. I came home.”

“Are you ok, Y/N?” your cousin asked, looking up from her breakfast.

“I’m ok, Peanut.” you replied smiling, “Nothing I wasn’t expecting I supposed.”

“I’m sorry it didn’t go well, sweetie.” Your aunt said sympathetically. “Perhaps it was just the shock of seeing you for the first time in years.”

“No, I think it’s the fact that he apparently no longer sees us as friends.” you answered, “He made that abundantly clear. I’ll be fine though. I ran into Shay, so the night wasn’t a total bust.”

“His loss then and he’s a bigger idiot than I originally thought” She stated, “But I’m glad you ran into Shay. It’ll be good for you to have someone you can hang out with around here.”

“Yeah.” You replied, “I think we’re going to try to get lunch today. I have to give her a call.”

“Uncle Tom has a doctor’s appointment this afternoon, so we’ll be out for a bit.” She said, “I was thinking of putting some food on the grill for dinner…did you have plans?”

“No, I'll be here.” You replied, “Do you need me to go shopping or do anything to help you?”

“No, it’s ok.” She replied, “I think we have everything we need here already and honestly the cooking gives me something to do to keep busy.”

“Ok.” you said, understanding. “Just promise to let me know if you need help with anything at all.”

“I promise.” She smiled, turning to the kids, “Ok kids, hurry up. Your ride will be here shortly.”

You ate breakfast with your aunt before heading up to shower and get dressed. You sent a text to Shay setting up lunch for later that day. With the time you had this morning, you figured you’d head to the hangar and maybe take the plane up to clear your head. With the residual feelings from the night before, you felt air time was what you needed to shake it off and give you a mental break.

Coming downstairs you passed your uncle’s office, the door open, you could see him already sitting at his desk working on the computer. You shook your head, chuckling quietly. He truly never stopped.

“Morning, Uncle Tommy” You said, stopping at the doorway.

He looked up, smiling at you, motioning for you to come into the room.

Sarah said your meeting with Rooster didn’t go well. You ok?

“At the moment, not really.” You admitted, never able to keep anything from your uncle, “But I have plans to get up into the air this morning so I’m sure the situation will seem better soon.”

Don’t give up, Firecracker. Keep the door open.

“Uncle Tommy, I think that door was firmly closed by him. Not much I can do if he doesn’t want to be friends anymore. I can promise that I will …eventually… talk to my dad.” You assured him. “Brad did inform me you’d kept him up to date with my whereabouts occasionally, so thanks for trying.”

I wouldn’t count him out just yet. He cares. Going flying today?

“We’ll see.” You replied, “I am planning on flying this morning, then meeting Shay for lunch.”

Your Dad?

“You’re not letting this one go are you?” You replied, realizing how determined your uncle is when he sets his mind to something.

Not enough time to let it go, Firecracker. Time is always the enemy.

“I will call him tonight.” You promised, “He’s teaching now I assume, right? First day?”

Yes. More reason to reach out. He’s going to have a rough day.

“Tonight.” You repeated, “I love you more than the sky, Uncle Tommy.”

I love you higher than I can fly, Little Bird.

You wrapped your arms around your uncle from the side and dropped a kiss to the top of his head before heading out.

You grabbed your bag and headed to the hangar to get a few hours of flying in.

Thankfully, Frank seemed busy with other pilots and people that looked to be chartering a flight. You filed that information into the back of your head for later. If you were staying, you’d need a job. Maybe you  could establish yourself as a freelance charter pilot. If all else failed you could always ask Penny for a job slinging beers at the Hard Deck. Not that running into Bradley on the regular was something you wanted.

You ran through all preflight checks on your plane, making sure you had enough fuel and everything was safe. You looked over maps and plotted a flight plan that would take you out over the desert and back. Once you finalized your plan, you walked over to Frank to file the flight plan with him.

“Morning, Miss Mitchell.” Frank greeted as you walked over, “Getting some time in your plane today, huh?”

“Yes, sir” You replied, “Need to clear my head. I’ve got a possible flight plan here, if it checks out, I’d like to follow and get permission to take off.”

“Let me take a look, and we can get you on your way.” He replied, taking the plans you’d handed him. He looked at his computer screen and back at your plan before looking back up at you. “This should work, I’ll get you in the take off line-up now.”

“Thank you.” You replied, taking the paperwork he handed you, “See you in a few hours.”

The time spent in your plane did wonders for you mentally. You felt you could breathe easier as you radioed to the tower to get permission to land back at the hangar. It had been a smooth flight out and around. Clear skies all the way. Honestly, if you weren’t meeting Shay for lunch, you’d stay in the air longer.

Landing went as smoothly as the rest of the trip and you were taxiing back to the storage hangar in no time. Once you’d parked your plane you switched everything off and jumped down to start tying it down. The tasks, so familiar, you could do them in your sleep.

“Have a good flight?” Frank asked, stopping the golf cart outside of the hangar.

“It was great.” you replied, “Definitely did what I needed it to do.”

“Glad to hear.” He smiled warmly, “Say, if you’re plannin’ on being around here awhile, any chance you’d be interested in occasionally taking a charter?”

“I could do that.” You said, “A lot depends on how things go with my uncle though, to be honest. I’m here mostly because his health is declining quickly. I think I’ll be staying though, so maybe on a once in a while basis for now… until I know where my life is headed?”

“That’s more than fair.” He replied, “I’m sorry to hear about your uncle.”

“Thank you.” You replied, “I’ve got to meet a friend for lunch, but next time I’m here, I’ll bring a copy of my license and certifications.”

“Sounds good.” He said, turning the golf cart back on, “Enjoy your lunch.” Frank drove off with a wave heading back to the main office hangar,

You grabbed your bag and purse and walked to the Jeep parked outside the hanager. Turning your phone back on, you saw you had a text from Penny asking you to pop in during the day that week. Another text from your old boss asking if you’d consider coming back, and a text from Shay with the address of the Mexican restaurant you were meeting at for lunch.

You texted Penny back promising to stop in, your old boss telling him thanks for the love but you were planning to stay in San Diego, and lastly a text to Shay letting her know you were headed that way now.

Part of you wished you’d had a text from Bradley, but the logical part realized he probably didn’t even have your phone number anymore.

Putting it out of your mind, you entered the address for the restaurant into your phone and headed towards your lunch with Shay.

____________

“Hey!” She called, as you walked into the restaurant.

“Hi!” you replied, as you slid into the booth, setting your purse next to you. “How’s your day going so far?”

“It was pretty busy this morning, it makes the day move fast though so I don’t mind.” She replied, “How about you?”

“I had another heart to heart with my uncle. He made me promise I’d talk to my dad tonight. He said, ‘Time is the enemy’, so that’s going to be great.” You replied, “Then I went flying and life started to look a little better again.”

“How are you feeling about that impending conversation with your dad?” She asked, knowing the history. “How are you feeling after last night’s encounter with Bradley?”

“Honestly, I’m ready to talk to my dad. I miss him. One thing about Uncle Tommy fighting cancer… it put things into perspective. Being home and seeing him, knowing we’re at the end… just pushed the idea home. Being stubborn is dumb. I only have one dad.” You replied, “As for Brad… I was hurt and upset last night, and I still am, but now I’m also pissed. So fuck him.”

“I’m glad you’re ready and willing to try to patch things with your dad. You’re right… your uncle is right. Life is too short.” She agreed, “If you want, I’m sure Aunt Penny would be ok with you two meeting up there to talk… at least you’d have a referee if needed.”

“That might not be a bad idea” You laughed, “Penny always was a good go-between when her and dad were together.”

“As for Bradley…” she said, “I think it’s perfectly acceptable and justified to be pissed. I’m here if you ever need to vent…or need someone to help you hide a body.”

“I don’t think I’m at the homicidal level,” You laughed, “He’s not worth doing life in prison for. But thank you. I just may avoid the Hard Deck during peak hours for the foreseeable future.”

“Well that’s a shame.” She replied, “I mean, that other aviator was HOT last night. There were several others that were not hard on the eyes either…”

“He definitely showed interest in you!” You encouraged, “Hangman, I think, right? You should definitely pursue that.”

“He seems like he’d be a player though,” she reasoned, “Still, it could be fun while it lasted.”

“He may surprise you, Shay.” You said, “He certainly seemed interested, maybe there’s more to him that you saw.”

“Maybe.” She hedged, “You should come with me… I may need a wingman…woman…person.”

“I don’t know that my heart can handle having to see Bradley right now, Shay.” You replied honestly.

“I’ll block any interactions until you tell me otherwise.” She promises, “And I’m the female pilot…Phoenix? I’m sure she’d be willing to run interference… girl code and all. I know Aunt Penny would ring the bell on him in a heartbeat.”

“Ok…” You agreed, hesitantly, “I’ll come out with you. If it goes south though, you’re on your own afterwards.”

“I will take that deal.” She said, “What about tomorrow night? I know you’re talking to your dad tonight…”

“Tomorrow works.” You confirmed, “If it ends up a repeat of last night though, I am getting knock out drunk and you’ll have to take me home.”

“Also, a deal.” She said, “I promise to buy your drinks and be your drunk uber.”

After finishing up lunch you and Shay firmed up plans for the next night before you left to head to the Hard Deck to see Penny on your way home.

The parking lot was empty except for Penny’s beamer. You parked next to her car and headed inside. She was wiping glasses down and stocking the bar when you walked in.

“Hey Pen.” You said, walking up to the bar. “Need any help?”

“Nope, but I’ll accept company.” She said, smiling, “Hop up on the stool, my sweet girl. Do you want a drink?”

“Water with lemon if you have any sliced and handy.” You replied, “So, now that my dad’s back in town, any plans to pick up with dating again?”

“And here, I was about to ask you the hard hitting questions.” She laughed, “Our relationship is… complicated. I love him but I’m hesitant to take the leap. I have Amelia to think about. I need consistency, not on again off again.”

“I love my dad, Penny, but he’s got the emotional maturity of a toddler sometimes.” You laughed, “I know he loves you though, if that helps. Don’t accept anything less than 100%. You deserve someone who will put you first.”

“The same holds true for you, Kiddo.” She replied, gently. “I know last night was rough on you. I don’t know what was said between you and Rooster, but I saw the pain in your eyes when you left. I also saw the look on his face as he watched you leave, and the way he lit out of here after you left. Don’t write him off just yet, but like you said don’t accept anything less than 100%.”

“I think for now, I’ll just focus on trying to fix things with my dad.” You said, lowering your gaze, “I also just want to spend time with my Uncle and soak up as much of him as I can, while I can.”

“I understand.” She said, “When are you getting together with your dad?”

“I plan on calling him later tonight.” You said, “I know he started instructing at Top Gun today, so figured I’d wait until he had time to relax before calling him.”

“He would be more than happy to hear from you whenever.” She replied, “He misses you, but I don’t know how good he is at communicating that.”

“It’s not all his fault.” You admit, “I am my father’s daughter afterall. Stubbornness seems to run in the genes.”

“Knowing is half the battle.” Penny teased, “Aside from all of that, Amelia was asking about you. You should come out to the house sometime. Maybe come over on Sunday for dinner? The bar is closed.”

“I’d love to see her!” You said happily, “Sunday sounds good. Just let me know what time and what you’d like me to bring.”

“I’ll text you a time, and just bring yourself.” She said, “Amelia will be excited.”

“I can’t wait.” You replied, “I miss her. I can’t believe how fast she’s growing up.”

“You and me both, Kiddo.” She replied, “You and me both.”

“I should head back to the house. Uncle Tom had an appointment today. I know it’s been really hard on Aunt Sarah, so I want to hear how that went.” You said, “I’ll apparently be here tomorrow night with Shay though. She needs a wingman… she promised to run interference and protect me from unpleasant interactions with Bradley.”

“I will help as I can too, sweet girl.” She replied, “I’m happy you and Shay are able to spend time together.”

“It’s been great to catch up.” You replied, “I love you, Pen. For what it’s worth, I’ve always rooted for you and my dad to find your way back together.”

“I love you too.” She smiled gently, “Regardless of what happens or doesn’t happen between your dad and me, I’m always in your corner.”

You headed out to the Jeep and, checking the time, decided to send your dad a quick text.

You: Hey Dad… I hope your first day went well with the aviators. If you’re free tonight or have time… can you give me a call?

You took a deep breath and set your phone down before putting the key in the ignition and headed home.

The house was quiet when you walked in. You went up to your room to set your purse down and kick your shoes. Your phone notified you of a new message, sitting on your bed you pulled the phone to check.

Dad: Firecracker, I will never turn down talking to yout. It’s been… a rough day. How about I come get you on the bike and we take a ride?

You: It’s been awhile since we’ve done a ride on the bike… I think I’d like that. I’m sorry you had a bad day.

Dad: Nothing that time with my favorite girl won’t fix. :)

You: I’ll see you later, Dad.

Dinner that night was pretty quiet. Your uncle’s appointment, not being the greatest news. The cancer was progressing faster now that he was no longer receiving any treatment. Time really was running out. You were glad you made plans to see your dad later that evening, giving your aunt and uncle time with the kids to process and adjust to the new timeline.

Once everyone was done eating, you took over cleaning up for your aunt. You rinsed all the dishes and placed them into the dishwasher before wiping down the counters and putting away the leftovers. Once the kitchen was back to its immaculate state, you went upstairs to change into warmer clothes for the ride with your dad. While Southern California was generally warm, it still got cooler at nights, and on the bike it would be even cooler.

You got a text from your dad letting you know he was on his way so you made your way downstairs.

“I’m heading out in a few minutes with Dad, he texted to say he’s on his way.” You let your aunt know.

“Tell him to stop by tomorrow after he’s done teaching.” Your aunt requested.

“Not asking,” Tom rasped, looking up at you.

“I will let him know. I love you both.” You replied, understanding what wasn’t said.

“We love you too, sweetheart.” Your aunt said, “Enjoy your time with your dad.”

You hugged them both before heading outside. You didn’t have long to wait, he pulled on the motorcycle a couple minutes later.

“Hey, Firecracker,” He said, smiling warmly. One thing about your dad, his smile lit up his whole face and you always knew he was genuine. “I’ve missed your face, Y/N.”

“Hi, Dad.” You smiled back, seeing him face to face made you realize how deeply you’d missed him. “I’ve missed you too.”

“Hop on.” He said, handing you a helmet. “Let’s drive up the coast a bit.”

You took the helmet and pulled it on, securing the strap under your chin before getting on the bike behind your dad and wrapping your arms around him. His familiar woodsy scent mixed with the faint scent of jet fuel was comforting.

You enjoyed being on the bike, feeling the wind on your face and the warmth of your dad. You traveled up the coast, for several miles, taking in the sights. After about a half hour, your dad pulled off into a beach parking lot and parked the bike. You climbed off, stretching your muscles and removing the helmet. You set it on the seat of the bike, turning to look at the view.

“It’s beautiful here. Peaceful.” You commented, surveying the deserted beach, the sun starting to set over the horizon.

“That it is.” Your dad agreed, “Come on, let’s take a walk down to the water.”

The two of you headed towards the wood boardwalk that would lead down to the sand. Once at the sand you paused to kick off your shoes, preferring to walk barefoot through the sand.

You walked in comfortable silence before you stopped and plopped down onto the sand. Your dad followed suit, settling in next to you.

“How’s Ice?” He said, starting the conversation.

“It’s not good, Daddy.” You replied quietly. “The cancer is progressing really fast now that he’s stopped treatment. We’re going to lose him too soon.”

He reached over to wrap his arm around your shoulders, pulling you gently into his side. He turned his head and dropped a soft kiss on the top of your head.

“There’s never enough time, is there?” He asked, not really expecting an answer.

“That’s what Uncle Tommy told me” You replied, “Time is the enemy.”

“He’s a very wise man,” He agreed, “Much wiser than your old man.”

“I dunno,” You said, “You were wise enough to make him my Godfather.”

“Touche, Firecracker.” He laughed.

“Aunt Sarah said to stop by after you’re done with work tomorrow.” You relayed your aunt’s message, “And Uncle Tommy said, and I quote, ‘Not asking’”

“I know I need to…” He replied, staring out at the horizon, “Would you think less of me if I admitted that I’m afraid?”

“No.” You replied, “Because you’re being honest. I get it… we avoid what we’re afraid of. It’s why I kept putting off this conversation. But Uncle Tommy, Aunt Sarah and Penny said I needed to stop being hard headed so here we are.”

“You come by that honestly,” He admitted, “Sorry for that.”

“It’s ok to be afraid, Dad” You said, “I’m scared too. I don’t know how to navigate a world in which I can’t call Uncle Tom when I need him. But, if you don’t go see him, if you wait until it’s too late, you’re going to have to live with that guilt and it could eat you alive.”

“When did you get so smart?” He asked, smiling over to you.

“I come by it honestly.” You smiled back at him.

“What about this conversation scared you, Firecracker?” Mav asked, changing the subject.

“I’ve spent the majority of my teenage years into adulthood being angry at you…letting feelings of resentment stew.” You admitted, “I was mad at you for what you did to Bradley. I didn’t understand. I still don’t understand. I was angry that in doing what you did you ripped my best friend away from me. I’m angry as hell at him for leaving me behind too, don’t worry.”

You could feel yourself on a roll, all of the emotions and thoughts you’d pushed down over the years bubbled out now. Your dad, thankfully, just let you get it all out.

“When you were home, and it was us against the world, it was great. I could convince myself that I meant more to you than flying and the Navy. But then another call would come, new orders would arrive, a new mission would pop up and you’d leave. You looked relieved to be leaving. It felt like you wanted to leave. I’d get sent to Carol, or flown out here to Uncle Tom and Aunt Sarah and you’d go off and do what you loved….without me. As an adult, I figured it was just easier to make myself scarce so you didn’t have to choose and I didn't have to feel unwanted anymore.”

You hadn’t realized you’d started to cry until you felt a teardrop land on your hand in your lap. You brought your hand up to wipe away the unwanted tears. Staring, unseeingly across the ocean, trying to reign in the emotions and to calm your breathing.

“Y/N,” Mav said, voice thick with emotion, “I have never not wanted you. From the moment your mom told me she was pregnant I have wanted you with every single fiber of my being. I was beyond happy about being a dad…being your dad. I had absolutely no fucking clue what I was doing, how to be a good dad, but I wanted to be good. While your mom was alive, I could follow her lead, learn about how to be a good parent. She made it seem easy. After she died, I was scared shitless. I no longer had someone else to soften the blow or pick up the slack where and when I failed. I had this beautiful, intelligent, firecracker of a little girl that I now had the sole responsibility to raise. I’m not excusing my lack of parenting or minimizing your feelings. I just need you to know… you were wanted. I just didn’t know what I was doing.”

He paused, taking a few cleansing breaths, before continuing.

“When you were little, I could hide the fact that I was clueless. You were happy to travel with me, you saw it as an adventure. We had a home base, and that worked for us. As you got older, and you needed to be in school, Carol quickly pointed out you needed stability. So we formed a new plan. When I was gone you’d stay with her or with Ice and Sarah on longer deployments. You’d get the stability, the female role models you needed. Someone who knew what they were doing and wouldn’t screw it up. It may have seemed like it was easy to leave you… truth is… it killed me every time. I left a huge piece of my heart behind every time.”

You gave up  wiping the tears away at this point, allowing them to fall freely from your eyes. Your heart, which had been broken for years, was starting to mend. The gaping hole decreasing with your dad’s words. Just hearing that you were wanted and loved going a long way to fix what was broken inside.

“I am so sorry, Y/N that you spent even a second believing I didn’t want you. That I didn’t love you.” He said quietly, wiping his own eyes. “Flying… the Navy… neither can hold a candle to you, Firecracker. You are my world. The most important part of my life. Don’t ever forget that or doubt that.”

“I don’t remember much about mom.” You said, your voice rough from crying, “But I bet she’d probably be knocking both our heads together huh?”

“Absolutely no doubt about it.” He agreed, chuckling, wiping the remaining tears from his eyes, “Carol too. She’d call me an idiot and slap me. She’d have slapped Bradley too…”

“How is that going?” You asked.

“It’s been…icy” Mav responded, “He’s definitely still holding a grudge.”

“Dad… can you blame him?” You asked, “How would you feel if someone you loved and looked up to was responsible for blocking you from the Naval Academy? From standing in the way of following your dreams?”

“I’d probably be pretty pissed at them.” he reasoned, “I’d like to think I’d at least let them try to explain though.”

“Have you?” You asked, “Have you tried to tell him the real reason for standing in his way? Or do you just give him the response ‘he wasn't ready’?”

“It’s bad enough he hates me, Firecracker.” He sighed, “I couldn’t live with him being angry at his mom.”

“Maybe it’s time to come clean and let him decide who he is and isn’t mad at.” You offered, “He’s not a kid anymore, Dad. He’s a grown ass man, who, despite being set back, set him mind to achieving his dreams and became one of the top aviators in the US Navy. He might be an asshole that I seriously want to throat punch, but you can’t take the rest away from him.”

“Between the two of us, I’m so damn proud of what he’s accomplished.” Mav admitted.

“So you won’t just wash him of this mission?” You asked. Despite it all, you wanted Bradley to succeed and become everything he always dreamed of.

“He’s got just as much of a shot as the other aviators.” Mav said, “If he isn’t selected though, it’ll be because of his own lack of confidence and playing it too safe. He’s a damn good pilot but he gets in his own head too much. He thinks too much.”

“As long as he has a fair shake at this mission, that’s all I can ask.” You said. “And Brad’s always allowed himself to be in his head too much. He’s always been cautious.”

“You’re still in love with him aren’t you?” Your dad asked, watching you closely in the fading light.

“How did you know about that?” You asked, “Who ratted me out?”

“Nobody had to rat you out, Firecracker.” Your dad laughed, “You’ve had hearts in your eyes in regards to that boy since you were still in pigtails. It’s obvious to anyone who see you and knows you.”

“Great” You groaned, “That’s not at all embarrassing.”

“If it helps, I should have said it’s obvious to anyone except Rooster.” He clarified. “However, I used to see the same look in his eyes whenever you were around.”

“Well that look is long gone then.” You confirmed, “The message I got from him the other night was that I was no longer even worthy of friend status.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure, Firecracker.” Mav said.

“We’ll see.” You hedged, then decided to turn the tables, “hey, Dad?”

“What’s on your mind?” He asked

“What are your intentions towards Penny?” You asked.

“I don’t know how to answer that.” He sighed.

“Well, then… maybe until you do know… don’t do anything to get her hopes up.” You said. “Penny deserves more than on again off again.”

“I can tell you that I love her.” He admitted, “I just don’t know if I’m any good at relationships.”

“Well… if it helps, I love her too.” You said, “And I think you can do anything you put your mind to.”

“Thanks for the vote, kid.” He laughed, “I’m glad you love her.”

“Amelia too.” You said, “Wouldn’t mind a little sister.”

“Slow down, Firecracker.” He nudged you playfully, “One step at at time.”

“I can live with that.” you replied, nudging him back.

The ride back home was as pleasant as the ride to the beach. Mav stopped at an diner at the halfway point and bought the two of you milkshakes before driving the rest of the way home.

You hopped off the back and secured the extra helmet the back of the bike.

“Thanks, Dad” You said, leaning down to hug him, where he still sat on the bike. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Firecracker” He replied, “I’ll call you tomorrow after training and please let Ice and Sarah know I’ll be here.”

“I will.” You promised, “Be safe tomorrow. Don’t do any crazy pilot stuff.”

“Says the girl who does crazy pilot stuff in her own plane.” He said, smirking at you.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about” You feigned innocence. “I’m a very safe pilot.”

“Maybe we should change your name to Pinocchio.” he teased.

You stuck your tongue out and turned to head inside, your dad’s laughter following you. You turned to wave before heading inside.

“I take it, it went well?” Your aunt asked, smiling as you walked through the kitchen.

“Yes.” You confirmed, “Thank you, Aunt Sarah… you and Uncle Tommy pushing is definitely what was needed. I should have talked to him a long time ago.”

“You’re more than welcome Sweetheart.” She said, “You’d have come around eventually. We just didn’t want you to lose any more time. And… we both knew you’d need your dad, and he’d need you.”

“The world is going to suck when Uncle Tommy isn’t in it anymore.” You whispered, your emotions lodging in your throat.

“It won’t be as good, that's for sure.” She agreed, her eyes misting over. “The sun won’t shine as bright.”

You walked over and hugged your aunt tightly. You knew she was doing her best to stay strong for everyone else.

“We’ll get each other through.” You assured her

After saying goodnight, you headed upstairs to shower and crash. The emotions from the last 48 hours had been a lot. You needed a good night's sleep to refresh for tomorrow.

[the-trinket-witch]

Let's go fly a kite during the:

It’s August! So that means school’s about to begin again in Night Raven College. But August seems to be a month of birthdays, between Ortho, Riddle, as well as one Albert Eastwind. But there’s word of an event off-campus many are going to before classes come back in session.

Altus is an island city just off the coast of the Shaftlands, but is considered a territory of the Queendom of Roses. Its location and geography make it a breezy place, perfect for steampunk-esque airships and the like. In fact the whole city seems rather Steampunkish. It’s one weekend in the middle of August, that’s almost like clockwork with how predictable the wind blows. Such a westwardly breeze is the perfect weather for Altus’s ‘Airborne Afternoon’. The weekend is quite the jolly holiday, celebrating the city’s pivotal contributions to all things that take flight. Kites soar in craftsmanship showcases and heated dogfights. Tricked out airships, balloons and other vehicles dot the upper atmosphere like daylight stars.

Albert has talked it up the whole year, and had somehow convinced Azul, Jade and Floyd to come along. Jade had been curious about Albert’s hometown and what the hiking was going to be like; apparently the tallest hill on the isle was the epicenter of the festivities. Azul claims that winning even just one competition might get his name in some of the locals’ mouths, maybe drum up a bit of prospective business down the line. Floyd…Floyd heard about some Kite fighting and wanted to smear the competition.

Locals as well have a more eccentric ‘competition’. Every year, a member of the community gets voted as someone who ‘Just Needs a Good Laugh’. Usually, it’s the crotchetiest of the crowd, the biggest Grump in town. With a measured tether tied to their waist, they down a potion of levitation. The catch: the potion only works when the person laughs. The competition is basically a ‘Speed Comedy’ act. The tether the ‘judge’ wears is the quantifying measurement for how good the acts are; the routine that brings the judge to the heights of laughter wins.

Anyone is welcome to join in! Maybe bring a friend or partner? What does your kite look like? Will it take to the skies for combat? Want to check out all the tricked out flying machines? Have a hilarious sketch routine or joke you want to try out? Rather not compete? There’s plenty of hillside to have a viewing picnic or peruse the stalls lining up the hill.

This is going to be NOT an AU thing, but a regular ‘canon’ event, but the town has steampunk flavoring so ppl can dress up if they want.

(RULES FOR ASKS)

-Can not be on anon, sorry.

-Use #TwstAirborneAfternoonEvent if you wanna make something on your own

-One (1) OC per ask, with at most a plus-one. Let me know what your character plans to do in Altus! Are they putting on something sort of steampunk to blend in or just something casual? Are they bringing a kite? Lemme see!

-Please link a reference to your OC so I can write and/or doodle something accurately!

-I’ll either be writing a drabble of varying length for each ask, OR making a doodle of the scenario (at my personal discretion)

-This event runs from Tue, Aug 1st to Fri. Aug 18. Submissions sent after the 18th will regrettably not be considered.

-If you wanna write or draw something yourself-Tag me if ya can! I wanna see and show other folks too!

Albert SSR Voicelines:

Summon: No need for anything fancy, just some paper and string.

Groovy: If you'd like, I can take you flying sometime.

Set home: Give me a moment, please, to ‘reel’ myself in.

Home Idle 1: I don’t normally dress up this much, but it’s a special occasion

2: Altus has this event each year. The competitions can get pretty heated sometimes!

3: My cousin claims he could win the Joke Contest, if he could only get through his routine without being close to tears laughing, himself.

Home login: Today’s a rather nice day to go kite flying.

Tap 1: Was there anywhere you wanted to go? A stall or sight?

2: It’s nice to be back home, it’s been so long I may have to dust a bit~

3: The kite dogfights can get quite heated, sometimes you have to wonder which end of the string to watch more.

4: Theres free admission in the city museum; it's inside that decommissioned dirigible, the N.A.S Admiral. We call it 'Old Admiral Boom'

5: Afterwards, do you want to grab any of the meat pies Altus is famous for?

[mikyur]

Destined to be together~

yandere oc (Boy without eyes) x Fem/reader

warnings: obsession, injured reader, eyeless Yandere, general Yandere stuff.

Another day passes and the routine continues, in the afternoon he comes to clean your foot wound, he cleans it with all the care possible and takes care of you very well.

Are you really not going to tell me your name?. You ask again, very curious to know the identity of this man.

Why do you want to know this so much?. He asks focusing on his wounds.

I just want to know the name of my hero soon!.

He stops what he's doing and stays silent for a while and you're confused.

what there was?. You ask and he shakes his head as if coming out of his thoughts.

It was nothing. He responds and returns his focus to his foot.

Hmm apparently you won't tell me. You sigh in defeat. He doesn't say anything and you look at your foot and see that it is much better and is no longer swollen. And then you make an effort to move it and to your surprise your fingers move.

Are you sure my foot was broken?.

I have, why?. he asks and turns to you with his hand still on your leg.

Well, I think it's not normal that I can already move my fingers, isn't it too early for that? or maybe I have some kind of power!?. You say super excited, and still surprised that you can already feel your leg so quickly, because, like, it wasn't broken?

...

You were excited but for your excitement when you look at him and you see his lack of reaction he simply doesn't react he doesn't show any smile at the fact that you are improving a lot.

Aren't you happy for me? and... maybe you were mistaken, maybe you weren't really broken... You feel him squeezing your leg and you get confused.

what are you doing?. And with his question he does something you would never imagine he would do.

I said it was broken, so it is broken. Then he just broke his leg with a psychotic smile on his face.

W-what did you do...? why did you do that!?. You ask quite surprised, why did he do that!? Wasn't he a good person? Wasn't he helping you?

you ask yourself while screaming in pain and crying.

You can't leave me again. He says this calmly as he stands up from his chair.

what!? How can I leave you again? What are you talking about!?. You ask confused holding your broken leg.

I knew you would come back to me and this time I won't let you go. He says smiling and you start to lose your strength and consciousness thanks to the severe pain in your leg and the crying.

You're probably going to pass out now and don't worry honey I'll be here when you wake up, have a good rest.

And so you actually faint but before it goes away you catch a glimpse of his small smile, and you hated the fact that deep down you thought that smile was cute.

Sorry for any writing errors 7w7 and the lack of history before is because my translator is having problems and doesn't want to work ಥ⁠_⁠ಥ

[liamthemailman]

im writing this because i realized i havent done any acesoap in a hot minute since i was so busy with House of Cards

me being an oc creator is so fun and its even more fun with canon x oc because i can just go

Johnny woke up with an uneasy feeling. He shifts under the covers but can't find the urge to sleep despite being exhausted the whole day. The room felt unnaturally cold. Johnny turns in bed to find Ace, thinking his boyfriend would give him solace from his discomfort.

Johnny would find that the side that Ace usually took up was empty. There was the distinct smell of the guy lingering in the sheets, but Ace seemed to have disappeared into thin air. Johnny sits up in bed.

Johnny strained his ears. Perhaps Ace just was on a late night bathroom visit. Johnny sat and listened. The air in Johnny's apartment was undisturbed. No movement shook the silent atmosphere, save for some crickets outside. The closing of the bathroom door and the creaking of the floorboards never came. Ace wasn't in the house anymore.

Now, Johnny was really freaking out. He jumps up from the bed and winces slightly when he meets the cold floor. Johnny carefully searches his whole house, more desperate when each room is empty.

All of Ace's stuff seemed to have gone too. Despite it being Johnny's place, Ace would have a toothbrush in the toilet, a sweater or two lying around and a mug for his tea in the cabinet. None of these things were in their places.

Johnny recalls the days leading up to now. Ace hadn't shown any signs of wanting to split up, and he was not one to pull such cruel pranks. Hell, Ace cuddled Johnny as they fell asleep last night as usual, always in each other's arms.

Tears pricked at Johnny's eyes, worry weighing his mind as to why Ace seemed to have just up and left in the middle of the night. Johnny reached for his phone to contact Ace. Johnny's fingers had never dialed Ace's number so fast. He put the phone to his ear, and was sent immediately told that the number was not in service.

What the, Johnny thought. That wasn't possible, since they had called and texted just last afternoon when Johnny called Ace over.

Johnny felt ashamed to call anyone else's help for his issue, unsure how to explain just how he lost his boyfriend. However, he was growing desperate. He dialed Gaz's number despite it being the ungodly hour of 3:28AM on a Saturday.

"This better be important.." Gaz's voice grumbled through the phone. Johnny couldn't be happier to hear his best mate's voice. He immediately spoke.

"Gaz, I dunnae where Ace is! I just woke up not too long ago and he's just gaen! A' his hings tae! Gaz, I-"

"Mate, slow down.. I can barely understand you.." Gaz groaned, interrupting Johnny's babbling. "Who's Ace?"

"Quit pumpin' aroond, Gaz! The man's gone and I need to know where he went-"

"Johnny, calm down. I can't help you if you're all freaked out.. Who's Ace?" Gaz asked, genuine confusion in his voice.

Johnny went quiet. Was Gaz serious? He stared at his phone in disbelief for a moment before putting it to his ear again. Maybe it was because Gaz just woke up.

"Ace? Mah boyfriend. He has a scar going around his neck! Our bleedin' CO!"

Johnny was met with silence from Gaz.

"Ace. Ace Doe! Our lieutenant? Kinda short, angry face, always has his shades on, and wears a hoodie everywhere? Gaz!" Johnny's voice cracked with desperation and panic.

"Johnny. As far as I'm concerned, Ghost's our only lieutenant."

"What?! No, Gaz, I'm serious here-"

"So am I!" Gaz hissed through the phone, quickly silencing Johnny. "..Sorry, lost my temper."

Gaz, on the other end of the line, could clearly tell Johnny was seriously distressed. Whoever this Ace is, was really important to Johnny, and also their lieutenant, apparently.

"Just calm down.. and we can talk to Price in the morning." Gaz says. Johnny, satisfied, thanked Gaz and put down the phone.

Johnny thought about calling Price directly, since he was the first to meet Ace anyway. He couldn't wait another few hours pondering the whereabouts of his love. Johnny dialed the captain's number.

"..ello?" Came the sleepy gruff of Price on the other end.

"Ace is missing." Johnny said in a shaky voice.

"..Who's Ace? Is Ace a dog?"

Johnny takes in another shaky breath, his lips trembling slightly.

"Nevermind.." Johnny strained.

"Well.. I hope you find him soon.." Price says, now confused, and ends the call.

Who is Ace?

This question would echo in Johnny's mind as he slinks back to bed. Exhaustion was catching up to him. He seemed more lonely than alone. It didn't exactly help when his friends didn't even know who he was talking about.

Johnny pulled back the sheets and slipped under the covers. The bed seemed colder than it ever has been with the absence of someone else. The bed smelled different, like someone else laid in it before Johnny did. He shifts a little, the indent in the bed seemingly not fitting him, but someone else instead. Someone else.

Someone else? Johnny pondered.

And it scares Johnny even more, knowing that he was supposed to know. He was supposed to know when remnants of this someone else was in his bed.

Hours passed and Johnny couldn't get a wink of sleep, but he didn't move when the sun shined in through the curtains. Instead, he found himself thinking.

Who is Ace?

[chitsuu]

OC Kiss Week 2024: Rain

Still doing this little challenge this week, since I didn't manage to do it all last week, with my FFXIV character and his husband (@kitshunette’s son)!

Also, I’m not much of a writer, but I decided to write a little something for each drawing, little windows in their story (which is also why I’m using the @ockissweek prompt list but not in order)

I actually got overly excited over this one, even though this is not a paper made for very detailed illustration and I wanted to keep things simple,,,,, but it took form under my eyes and I couldn't stop,,,,,,

Eli decided he did not like the rain.

He frowned, glaring at the window of his bedroom, where he could see the heavy pouring that was currently taking place outside. It had been raining without a moment of rest since yesterday’s first light, and it showed no sign of stopping. Eli dramatically sighed. He was supposed to be on a date this evening, and yet he was stuck in his room - well, more accurately, in his bed. Apparently going out under the rain in a cropped vest and shorts was incompatible with the concept of being healthy, and he had caught a nasty cold.

He shivered a little, and concluded that since his night was ruined, he might as well give up and transform himself into a burrito. Just as he finished wrapping his long limbs inside the warm blanket, he heard a little rasp against his door.

“You can come in.���, he grumbled.

It was either his big sister coming to offer him some medicine, or her wife, who would never pass out the opportunity of snatching the warm cup of milk that was on his bedside table.

Except it was neither of them, and a much taller shape appeared at the door frame, hovering anxiously.

“Shashahua told me you caught a cold, and that you were stuck in bed. I wanted to check on you, are you feeling better?”, the blue haired man asked, a worried look on his face.

Eli felt a rush of very different emotions all at once. Happiness at seeing the familiar face of his now boyfriend. Embarrassment from getting sick just before their date. Flattered that he would still come to see him. Relief that his nose had stopped producing indecent amounts of snot a bit earlier in the afternoon. Mortified that he was currently looking like some kind of giant slug.

He coughed a little, hoping to distract Jisul while he tried to smoothly move the blanket around so that he would not look like he was being eaten by it.

“I’m feeling better this morning. You didn’t have to come you know?”, Eli started then promptly added, “No that’s not it, I’m actually really happy you’re here. Thank you.”

He could feel his face flaring up, and hoped the Au Ra would mistake it for the fever. Why did he have to be like that?

Jisul beamed, and Eli belatedly realized he had come all the way to his bedside. He scooted over a little, a shy unspoken invitation. An invitation promptly accepted, as his boyfriend sat next to him on the bed, looking a bit pink at the cheeks.

“I’m sorry we couldn’t go on our date. I know you wanted to see the Starlight festivities, and I wanted to see them with you too.”, Jisul said in a small voice.

He looked really dejected, as if the weather was somehow something he could have prevented. Well, knowing him, if he could do it for Eli, he would. And Eli would do the same.

The Elezen reached a hand outside the blanket, and took Jisul’s hand in his.

“You don’t have to be sorry for that. We can always see them later,” Eli softly said, “or even next year.”

Pulling the hand towards him, he gave it a gentle kiss. Speaking of future dates gave him butterflies, and he tried his best to stay casual. They started dating not so long ago after all, and even though they had a crush on each other for the longest time, at least according to his big sister and her wife, wasn’t he being a bit forward?

“Sounds good to me. Next year and the following years to come would be nice.”

Eli’s heart made a somersault. Jisul was looking at him with crescent eyes, full of a confident love. When their eyes met, they both blushed before turning slightly away, overwhelmed by the sudden confession.

“I should go”, Jisul started after a few moments of comfortable silence, “you need to rest more-”

“Can’t you stay a little?”

Eli was actually not ready to let him go, even though he was indeed starting to feel tired and in need of a nap.

“Please. Until I fall asleep?”, he pleaded.

As if pleading was necessary, considering Jisul had not even made the slightest movement to remove himself from the bed.

“Can I? What about your sister?”

The Au Ra looked a bit intimidated at the idea of getting told off by the Lalafell.

Eli chuckled.

“It’s fine. She and Sisi are probably expecting you to stay so they don’t have to worry about me.”

And so they can tease me come tomorrow.

Jisul laughed a little, and opened his arms. Eli found himself wrapped in a soft embrace and snuggled closer to his boyfriend’s chest. The Au Ra was more on the cold side in terms of body heat, but it balanced nicely with the warmth from the blanked and his fever.

“Should I sing you a lullaby?”

“Hm.”

Eli closed his eyes, unable to fight the drowsiness, as Jisul started to sing a soft ballad in Xaela.

Eli decided he liked the rain a little after all.

[lostfirefly]

Trembling, crawling across my skin, feeling your cold dead eyes, stealing the life of mine (Ch.3)

This fanfiction story is my present for my friend @yujo-nishimura.

Two things inspired me to write this fic: One of my fav songs from which the title is taken and Elena and Damon's dance (from The Vampire Diaries, S1).

Description: In the last chapter Crocodile kissed Yujo. What will happen next?

Warnings: The action takes place around the end of the 18th - beginning of the 19th century.

Words: 1318

Sir Crocodile x OC

The title is taken from "Dance with the Devil" by Breaking Benjamin.

English is not my native language, errors may occur. As always, feel free to share your thoughts :)

Taglist: @gingernut1314

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

Chapter 1, Chapter 2

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

Yujo came to her senses and found herself hugging Crocodile's neck. She forcefully pushed him away from her. 

"I beg your pardon, you took me by surprise. If you are a real gentleman, you know that it is not right to do such things to a girl who is engaged to your, as I understand it, companion." Yujo blushed and didn’t know what to do with herself. 

"I like to break the rules sometimes, you know." Crocodile walked up to Yujo and ran his thumb over her lips. 

"They're expecting us at dinner." Yujo said quietly, feeling goosebumps run through her body just from one Crocodile's gaze.

“This is my castle, I’m the boss here and they won’t start until I come. And I don’t plan to do that in the next five minutes.” He grabbed her around the waist with his hook again, put his hand on the back of her head and kissed her greedily again. Yujo felt his tongue slide across the roof of her mouth. She felt her legs gradually become numb and her fingertips began to pulsate.

"Please, sir, no!" Yujo forcefully pushed Crocodile away and ran out of his office. She stood in the corridor and tried to catch her breath. 

She quickly straightened her dress and hairstyle and walked towards the dining room. Yujo's mind was a little clouded by what had happened and she had no idea where she was going, but the sound of glasses and laughter told her where to go.

"Yujo, there you are! Where have you been?" Helena waved to her sister. "I talked to our father, he told me a little about this afternoon's meeting with Crocodile. I don't know anything about the swordsman yet but..."

"Can you be quiet?" Yujo barked at her sister.

"What?" Helena looked at her in surprise.

Yujo glanced at Helena, saw her wet eyes and sighed heavily. "Sorry. Sorry, please, my little sister. I got a little emotional today. So what's up with your swordsman, crybaby?" Yujo tried to fake a smile and wrapped her arms around her sister's shoulders.

"I won't tell you anything else." Helena became sad and carefully wiped her eyes.

"I'm sorry, Helena. I won't raise my voice at you again. I'm telling you, this is all the wedding, the preparation for it, this dinner. Let's do next, we'll come home and you'll tell me everything, okay? I bet Selena baked delicious scones for us. We'll take them to the bedroom and will be eating scones right in the beds, and you'll tell me everything, okay? In the meantime, we need to behave like ladies during the dinner. This cooperation with the Cross Guild is important to our father."

Helena became noticeably happier. Either because she could talk to her sister again about her future husband, or because she was looking forward to eating scones in bed.

Dinner went well, apparently. The girls' father talked for a long time with Sir Crocodile about something, they looked at some papers and at the end of the evening they shook hands. Yujo watched what was happening out of the corner of her eye, not forgetting to communicate with the guests of the evening but the kiss with Crocodile was spinning in her head.

Their family returned home. Helena ran to the kitchen for scones and tea, and took them to the bedroom. After changing into their linen nightgowns the sisters settled into their beds.

"Yujo, Yujo. Can you hear me?" Helena waved her hand in front of her sister's face.

Yujo snapped out of her thoughts, realizing that she had missed half of her sister's speech. “Yes, of course. Sorry. I’m a little tired. Ok, I’m with you again. Tell me what you found out.”

Helena happily took a bite of her scone. “Mmm, cherry. So... I found out that the swordmans is tall and wears a hat. Perhaps with a feather. Imagine. A real gentleman should wear a hat with a feather. I also tried to find out about the third member of this the Cross Guild, but there was no particular information for me. I wasn’t impressed. Can you imagine, sister, how great it will be! You will marry Mr. 3, and I will marry the swordsman." Helena put aside the plate of scones and turned around on the bed a couple of times. "God, I'm so happy!"

Yujo shook her head laughing. She liked this slight stupidity of her sister.

“What kind of information do you have? Tell me. Have you managed to talk with Mister 3 after the dinner? How are the preparations? Is everything ready? I’m so impatient to marry you off. By the way, I heard our father is meeting with Crocodile again tomorrow. Apparently, they agreed on cooperation. But I don't know the details, I was distracted by young countess Nami at the most interesting point and we started talking to her. Can you imagine, she is already engaged too. She will marry Count Sanji. Everyone gets married except me." Helena pouted.

"Calm down, Helena, dad will find you a good husband." Yujo said, laying down on the blanket. "I'm sure you'll marry your swordsman. In the worst case, don't forget about my version with the clown." Yujo laughed.

"Stop saying that." Helena said in a scared voice and covered herself with the blanket.

Yujo couldn't sleep all night. She tossed and turned in bed, remembering her kiss with Crocodile. Despite his menacing appearance, his lips turned out to be very tender. She remembered the coldness of the metal on her waist, his warm hand and his hot body that pressed her against the bookcase.

Yujo stood up, put on a thin robe and went to the kitchen to drink warm milk. Luckily, there was no one in the kitchen and Yujo breathed a sigh of relief. It seemed to her that her excitement was visible on her face, she blushed every time she remembered Crocodile. And she didn’t want anyone to notice her worries and not ask stupid questions. She heated the milk and returned to the bedroom.

In the morning, going down to breakfast, the girls heard loud male voices.

"Sir Watton, with all due respect, this is unfair. I spent a lot of money on all this."

"I already told you everything, mister Galdino." The girls heard their father's voice.

"Is this Mister 3?" Helena asked in a whisper. “What is he doing here? And why so early?”

Yujo and Helena sat down on the steps and began to eavesdrop.

“No, mister John Watton, take the trouble to explain why do I learn about everything not from you, not from him, but simply in the letter that the postman brought me? I thought we agreed on everything.”

"First of all, Mister 3, you're at my house. Where are your manners? Stop raising your voice at me. You'll end up waking up my daughters! Would you like someone to bring you your favorite earl gray tea and calm you down?"

“I don't want your stupid tea! It seems to me that I have every right to raise my voice at you. You violated the terms of the contract!” Galdino's loud voice seemed to reach every corner of their estate.

"Crocodile offered better terms." The girls' father said calmly.

“And that’s why you’re giving him your daughter?”

"What? Who are they giving away?" Helena asked in a whisper.

"I don't know. Maybe it's about you?" Yujo replied.

"Crocodile is a member of the Cross Guild. Cooperation with him is important to me. No matter what price I have to pay for this." Not a single word in their father’s voice wavered.

“For your information, I’m also a member of the Cross Guild!” Mr. Three sounded irritated.

"With all due respect, Mister 3, Crocodile has more power. That is why I am forced to break off your engagement with Yujo."

[girlbloggerbae13]

teaser - billy butcher x hughie's sister story

With season 4 of the boys coming out, I've re-entered my hyperfixation. I have a little story I started working on. It'll be Butcher x OC (Hughie's sister, Mickey). Said OC has been through it, and she's not the greatest person in the world. Definitely took all the bad stuff to heart so Hughie didn't have to. Anyway, here's a teaser, so let me know what you think!

-

At 2 o’clock in the afternoon, Mickey should have been awake. A functioning, stable, put-together 29 year-old would be. Not Mickey. She was passed out in bed (a full size mattress resting on the floor in her room), her body still trying to process all the alcohol she had consumed the night before. And the morning before. As well as the few consecutive days before that. That’s how it had been for as long as she could remember, at least since – 

The phone rang. Mickey groggily lifted her head from the pillow, reaching for her cell phone. She had apparently neglected to plug it in before she fell asleep last night. Hughie? She stumbled over to the corner, where her charger was plugged in, not quite able to reach the bed. I’ve been meaning to call him.

“Hughie? I’m sorry, I really have–,” she started, already guiltily rambling, but she was cut off by her brother’s wails. “Hughie?” He wasn’t stopping. “Hugh? Hugh? Hey, what happened? Hughie?” Mickey was already standing up and putting her shoes on, despite the hangover-induced migraine that was making her ears ring. 

Hughie sniffled, gasping, then went silent. His breath was shaky. “Hughie?” Mickey warily said to her brother.

“She, she was j-just standing there,” he started.

“Who was? Hugh. I’m on my way, but I need you to tell me what happened.”

“We were just…I was leaving work, and she…,” his voice cracked as Mickey grabbed her keys, wallet, and flask. Empty. She’d grab something on the way to fix whatever had ruffled her little brother’s feathers. He was a sensitive kid, always had been. It was probably just some car accident he had seen while going on lunch, or even worse, he had been riding his bike and, distracted by the great Billy Joel, accidentally hit a kid. That had happened before. That would make sense. Everything is okay. The bad stuff happens to me, not him. 

“Robin.” He was gasping for air now. Mickey’s heart dropped. “She was one step off the fucking…and he just came out of nowhere…she– I, I didn’t have time to…God, Mick, oh my God, Mickey…Robin, she’s gone.”

Mickey was about to open the door, but she turned around and threw up in the kitchen sink.

[audreysfanfics]

𝐂𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐈𝐂𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐍 𝐁𝐘 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐄 (Aemond Targaryen x Fem!Sand/Martell! OC)

— Chapter II: Red bricks, black waters

AO3 link (kudos & comments are appreciated 💚)

ᴘʀᴏʟᴏɢᴜᴇ || 1 || 2

────── ☀ ──────

As Qoren had predicted, the letter from King's Landing arrived only a couple of days after our raven had left, and it brought with it a positive response.

I happened to be in the Old Palace that afternoon, posing in my niece Aliandra's chambers while she painted my portrait, so I had the good fortune, or misfortune, to read for myself the words from the Hand of the King.

"To the Prince of Dorne and Lord of Sunspear, Qoren Nymeros Martell:

Your approval has pleased his Majesty, Aegon, the Second of his name, and has filled the halls of the Red Keep with joy.

House Targaryen has great respect for House Martell, since for a century they have seen in them a worthy opponent and envied the bravery with which you have faced their dragons. The King believes it is time for our forces to join yours and for the Rhoynar blood, brimming with bravery, to meet his own, and so he celebrates the union of his brother, Prince Daeron Targaryen, with your sister, Lady Alaessa.

That is why King Aegon II invites you and Lady Alaessa to King's Landing and eagerly awaits, as do all of us on the Council, that you leave for the capital as soon as you receive these words.

The Hand of the King, Ser Otto Hightower."

“Very nice words, yes, but did you notice that he didn't dare write my complete name?” I observed with the papyrus in my hand.

“It was the first thing I noticed, sister”. Qoren smiled at me, somewhat sympathetically, and walked over to his daughter. He looked at the portrait she was making carefully and then looked at me, comparing the two. “They're desperate”.

“I know," I agreed, shifting uncomfortably in the chair. “The problem will be when the war is over. What will they do with me then?”

“By then, you'll have Targaryen children and dragons in your possession," Qoren said.

“Alae, would you be quiet?”, Aliandra caught my eye with some annoyance in her voice. She held her pencil in her fingers.

“I'm sorry," I obeyed. I was in enough trouble as it was, without adding my niece's grumpiness.

“They say Daeron is the best of Viserys' sons," Aliandra interjected. “Aegon had to marry his own sister, and they say he spends more time drunk than sober, while the second brother, Aemond, is one-eyed. One of Rhaenyra's children disfigured his face for claiming a dragon”.

“Fucking Targaryen”, I sighed and tried to stand still, though my body was begging me to stand and walk. “They'll either marry or kill each other”.

“Apparently Daeron is handsome”. Both Qoren and I brought our attention to the princess, who was smiling smartly. “What?”, she questioned in annoyance when she noticed our stares. “Alaessa, this is the last time I'm telling you: stand still”.

“He must have got the handsomeness from his mother because, carrying so many generations of incest on his shoulders..." I observed.

I heard my brother burst out laughing. The surprise was so great that even his daughter put down the pencil to turn and look at him in confusion.

“You're right," said Qoren. “It’s a miracle of nature that he’s handsome. I think you'll even have to thank your God if the boy's cock gets hard…”

“Boy?”

There was silence. Aliandra cleared her throat uncomfortably and pretended to keep drawing, though I had already stopped holding the pose. I saw Qoren take a breath of air, as if it had suddenly dawned on him that he had unleashed a storm.

“Tell me, niece," I spoke directly to Aliandra, for I knew my brother was going to evade the question, "how old is Daeron Targaryen?”

Aliandra looked at her father out of the corner of her eye, cursing him inwardly for dragging her into this situation.

“Fifteen”.

“A fucking child”. Jumping to my feet, I closed the distance to my brother, clenching my fists. “You've betrothed me to a fucking child”.

“That 'child' is the age I was when I inherited the title of Prince of Dorne”. For some reason, Qoren had reddened. “At fifteen, I was already allied with the Triarchy in the Stepstones and I was at proxy war against King's Landing. By fifteen I had long since scattered my seed across the pillow houses of Sunspear”.

“You're overlooking the most important thing," I said, mumbling, "all of that, you did with your consent. Daeron Targaryen is being forced to marry a woman nine years older, and he doesn't even know me”.

“You care about a dragon now?” I saw a smug grin break out on my brother's face, and that was a bad sign: the counterattack was coming. “Well, you're getting attached to them faster than I thought”.

The punch went straight to the jaw and Qoren took it without complaint. The prick even let out a chuckle. That's when I decided to walk away.

“Where are you going Alae?”, my niece called me, “I want to finish this drawing today!”

“You'd better draw your father," I replied, barely turning around. “Draw him with that smile of his, and put special detail on the teeth, as I don't think he'll keep them much longer”.

As I crossed the corridor, I heard Qoren's laughter again.

“See you, dearest sister," he teased me. “Tomorrow, we’ll leave for King's Landing. Tell your maid to pack your best clothes”.

And, despite the annoyance and regret that was growing in me by the second, I did as he had said.

We set out for King's Landing at the hour of the nightingale and did so by land, for word had reached us that the Velaryon fleet had taken control of the Narrow Sea. We travelled through the deserts and barren ground of the Red Mountains of Dorne and then into the dense, damp forests of the Stormlands, where we had to kill a horse that had broken its leg after slipt. By the time we reached Storm's End, we were joined by twenty Baratheon knights as custody, and I had to endure my brother cursing them from then on.

Because of the setbacks, it took us nearly a week of ordeal to reach the Crownlands, and by the time we crossed the Kingswood, Qoren's moodiness was almost as insufferable as my own.

The first thing we met in the Capital was an unbearable stench that forced me to close the window, despite the heat. When passing through the King's Gate, the bustle and smell was so strong that Qoren banged on the carriage, demanding the driver to hurry up.

“This city is a shithole," Qoren couldn't sit still in his seat, and I was about to open the door and throw him through it.

“A shithole that will be my home”.

“Let's hope the Red Keep doesn't stink like this. Do you think this is why the river is called ‘Blackwater’?”

“King's Landing has nearly a million people, Qoren”. I sighed, begging for patience. “And those million people must shit every day”.

Holding my breath, I opened the window and peered out as I knew we were approaching the Red Keep. At the end of the narrow street, the red brick building stood monumental on its hill. I was in equal parts awe and fear, as I imagined its dark corridors, its endless rooms, and the ghost of kings and queens roaming them.

Our knights and the Baratheons preceded us carrying banners, and as we waited for the rake of the Keep being lifted, I caught a glimpse of a figure approaching at my window.

The next thing I felt was a spit in my face.

“Fucking Dornishmen," a thick, bald man with all his teeth missing insulted me. “Turn around and go back to your fucking desert, with your fucking scorpions and your fucking spears”.

I was ready to spit back at him, but then I heard the door on Qoren's side and as I turned I saw that my brother had got out of the carriage.

"Fuck, Qoren."

I had to watch as my brother beat the man to a pulp, rolling him in the faecal mud at the same time as a Baratheon knight tried to stop him.

“Let go of me, you bloody deer-fucker!”, Qoren broke free with ease. “Don't touch me with your filthy hooves”.

The commotion then escalated into a sword fight between Dorne and Storm knights, a conflict that had been brewing since the latter had joined us and got so out of hand that the City Watch had to intervene.

"This is pathetic," I thought as I wiped my face with a handkerchief. "Amazing how men are capable of sending diplomacy to the dogs when they feel their pride has been wounded”.

The idiot who had spat at me was taken between three men to the dungeons, and when my brother tried to get into the carriage, I locked the door.

“Oh, no. Don't even think of that with your clothes full of shit," I said. “You can walk from here”.

“I defended your honour," his hair was dishevelled and his yellow silk clothes were torn and dirty.

“I asked nothing of you, Qoren. Once and for all, stop deciding for me”.

The Green Council was to receive us in the afternoon. For my stay, I was appointed spacious and bright rooms in Maegor's Holdfast, the same place where the royal apartments were located and where the Queen Dowager, the King, the Queen, my future husband and the other brother slept. The butler who escorted me there took great pains to emphasise this to me, as if they were granting me some kind of privilege, but, in my opinion, they were only doing so because it was easier to study me if they had me close by.

I asked Nalia, my maid, to put on the purple silk dress that a lover had brought me from Tyrosh, for it matched my eyes and had been dyed with a color that was much sought after in Old Valyria. Over it, I wrapped a crisp shawl of linen and golden thread around me, matching the earrings and heavy necklace of pure gold that I decided to wear. My brother had strictly forbidden me to wear anything green, even though it was the colour of choice in the Red Keep, arguing his demand that he did not want the Hightower to think they had completely bought our support.

Qoren came to meet me, freshly bathed and beard trimmed, wearing the red and orange of our house. He offered me his arm and we made our way to the Council Chamber.

It was there that I met him for the first time, Maester. Yes, I’m talking about Aemond. I first saw him as we walked down the corridor with my brother, and he was coming from the opposite side, with hurried pace and clenched fists.

He was dressed in black leather from head to toe and his silver hair shone with golden highlights in the evening light. I knew he was the Targaryen prince Aliandra had mentioned because of his eye patch and I couldn't help but look at him: his gait exuded a certain magnetism as well as insolence.

With his one eye fixed on a point in front of him, I thought he had not noticed us, but then, as he passed us, I saw his iris glare at me. I held his gaze for that fraction of a second until he was lost behind us, leaving the smell of leather, ash and dragon in his wake.

I don't know what made me turn my head to watch him go, but I regretted immediately as he seemed to have the same impulse and turned as well, causing our eyes to meet again.

"Fuck," I cursed inwardly and turned, swallowing heavily.

“So that's the Kinslayer," my brother commented, passing by.

“What?”, I felt dazed.

“The one-eyed one, I mean," he explained. “A few weeks ago he had his dragon chase down and devour his nephew, the Black Queen's son, on the shores of the Stormlands," Qoren sighed and shook the head. “You should be thanking him for your future marriage, sister. It’s his fault that things among the Targaryen have been complicated of late, and that they’ve had to call on Dorne for support”.

The Green Council greeted us standing at their respective chairs, tense and silent. As soon as I stepped through the door, I noticed everyone's eyes on me. I saw the Queen Dowager inhale uneasily as she rubbed her hands together anxiously, the Hand of the King give a slight bow that seemed forced, and the rest of the members exchange glances with each other. There was also the King, who remained seated, with the crown of the first Aegon on his head, and a tall, silver-haired boy who half-opened his mouth when he saw me arrive.

"My future husband." I cursed Qoren inwardly, once more.

“Welcome to King's Landing, Prince Qoren and Lady Alaessa," Otto Hightower greeted us.  “I hope you had a pleasant journey”.

“Well, not necessarily”, my brother didn't even bother to say hello. “The overland journey was long and tedious, full of trouble, and when we arrived in the city we nearly died of shit-smell suffocating”. Qoren took his seat, as did I, and completely ignored the way the Council's mood was beginning to sour. The only one who was amused by my brother's words was the King.

“We are trying to fix that problem, my Prince, but the summer is proving hotter than we expected and... well, this weather can make the smells worse," Ser Otto explained.

“If I may, Ser, that's an excuse”. Apparently, my brother was eagerly to start a fight that day. “It's three times as hot in Sunspear as it is here, but it doesn't stink”.

“We will be delighted if, during your stay, you can give this Council some advice about urban planification," the Queen Dowager interjected, smiling. She was soft-spoken and seemed kind but did not give Qoren room to speak further. “By the way, Maester Mellos is going to be our scribe and will transcribe everything we discuss, for the record, in case our agreement does not come to fruition for any reason," she explained, cleverly. “Lady Alaessa, you are more beautiful than I was told," she added, out of the blue and, surprised, I turned my attention to her.

“Thank you, my lady”.

“‘My Queen’," a white cloak guard, whom I had not noticed until then, corrected me with impertinence.

“No," I spoke directly to the guard. “She’s not my Queen. Dornish people have no kings or queens, only princes and princesses”.

The atmosphere began to grow thick from there, and let me tell you, Maester, it would only get worse.

“She will be your Queen when you marry her son," Aegon spoke for the first time, and watched me with narrowed eyes.

“If anything, she'll be my mother”.

“Princess," a new voice added, and then I knew it was my future husband speaking. Aegon cursed under his breath when he heard him call me that, "You have no idea how lucky I feel to have you as my lady wife”.

I settled back in my chair and hated the silence that followed. Everyone was waiting for me to say something, even Qoren.

“So am I, my prince”.

“Well, I see little point in holding this meeting, when the bride and groom themselves seem to have come to an agreement," Ser Otto said, with some urgency. “Prince Qoren, if you wish, you and Lady Martell may join us for dinner," he added, and it did not take him a second to realise his mistake.

The awkwardness, the dense atmosphere and the eagerness played tricks on the calculating Ser Otto.

“Sand," my brother corrected. “Lady Alaessa Sand”.

“On that note, and with your permission, we plan to legitimize Lady Alaessa by Royal Decree and bestow the Martell name upon her," the Queen Dowager, Alicent, commented.

“Why?” I had to interject, after all, it was me they were talking about. “I don't need to be called Martell to know I'm one of them. Besides, I'm very proud of my bastardy”.

“Proud?” Aegon questioned. “Who the hell would be proud to be a bastard?”

“Any Dornish person, my lord," I countered.

I saw Aegon open his mouth, ready to say something, but Qoren beat him to it.

“In Dorne, bastardy is no shame. Lady Alaessa is the daughter of my father's former paramour, a worthy woman who was also his friend”.

“All the more reason she should be called Martell," Alicent insisted.

“My legitimacy would make me my brother's heir, would it not?” I questioned but received no answer. “Not that I don't trust you, my lords, but in order to safeguard the lives of my brother's children and the independence of Dorne, I prefer to keep my bastardy”.

“It's not about Dorne, my dear.” Alicent Hightower spoke to me in a calm voice, but her brow was furrowed. “We have Prince Daeron's image to look after. It does us no favours for his wife to be a bastard, for it would show weakness in the face of our enemies”.

“In that case," Qoren interjected, "there’s still time to stop this venture. I can marry Alaessa to Rhaeyra Targaryen's youngest son, as I hear he has not yet been betrothed and, like my sister, it is said he’s a bastard, so I don't think the Black Queen will mind”.

"Good move, Qoren," I congratulated him in my thoughts as soon as I saw the entire Green Council turn pale.

“Joffrey Velaryon is six years old," Ser Otto observed.

“Sister, would you be willing to wait ten years to consummate your marriage?”, Qoren asked, complicit.

“Of course, brother," I replied, humouring him.

“Sentencing Lady Alaessa to ten more years of maidenhood would be a punishment for her, Prince Qoren," Maester Mellos countered, speaking for the first time. “She is twenty-four now, so she would not be deflowered until she is thirty-four”.

“It’s nine years since I ceased to be a maiden," I blurted, and suddenly there was a silence as heavy as lead. But I enjoyed it, delighted, as did Qoren beside me.

“Don't write that, Maester," Alicent Hightower ordered.

“I like you, Lady Martell," Aegon said, smiling. Even though he was King and in the middle of a war, he took it all less seriously than he should have.

“If I may say so, this is a small matter, and as far as I know, only I, her future husband, should care about Lady Alaessa's maidenhood," Prince Daeron interjected, to everyone's surprise. “Princess," he insisted on calling me that, "I know these matters are handled differently in your land. Please let me adopt, little by little, your ways”.

I watched as Alicent Hightower's face drained of colour and her eyes widened in perturbation, while King Aegon smiled, delighted, as if the situation were hilarious.

“Any objections?”, asked the Hand of the King, after clearing his throat.

But no one said anything. Perhaps they had given up. Perhaps they were too stupefied to speak.

“We'll see you at suppertime, then”. Qoren stood up and offered me his arm. “It's been a pleasure," he added, haughtily.

We walked away from the Green Council without anyone having the decency to even stand up from their seats. When we opened the door, we saw that on the other side, leaning against the wall, was Aemond Targaryen.

He had been listening, it seemed, and his intention was to be discovered. When he saw us, he looked first at Qoren and then at me, taking more time.

“Are you lost, boy? In your own castle?”, Qoren provoked him with some annoyance in his voice.

But he did not answer. Instead, he uttered an almost imperceptible "hmm" and stalked off the way he had come, walking as if he could carry the world before him. Qoren and I watched him walk away and then started walking too.

“Are we really going to have to have dinner with that child?”, Qoren questioned.

“Surely, he's the King's brother too”.

“Every second I spend in this Keep full of madmen increases my regret that I got you into this," my brother said, and that annoyed me. It was impossible he had been oblivious to the atmosphere in King's Landing up to that point.

No doubt Qoren was trying to lessen his burden of guilt.

“Too late," I said , with a bitter feeling in my throat.

And in fact, dear Maester, it was late but not only for me, but also for Qoren, Daeron and Aemond Targaryen.

[shmaptainwrites]

[CH. 6] New Doctor on the Block

Chapter 6: Enemy Fire I

Pairings: Hawkeye Pierce x fem!Reader

Characters: Hawkeye Pierce, Max Klinger, Mr. Park (OC), Sherman Potter, Father Mulcahy

Summary: Reader, Hawkeye, Klinger, and Mr. Park are sent to the front to operate on soldiers that can't be brought to the 4077th

Warnings: general wartime violence/injuries, light angst

Notes: I'm just gonna be criptic here and say this won't be the last time you'll see this

Series Masterlist - NDotB Masterlist

When you heard the news to report to Colonel Potter’s office you had a feeling in your gut it wasn’t going to be for a pay raise. 

You gave Hawkeye a look as you entered along with Klinger and one of the male orderlies that helped in the OR, trying to figure out what in the world this group was called for. 

“Colonel, if you don’t mind can I ask why we’ve been called here specifically? Are we in trouble?” you asked. 

“Not particularly,” he shook his head. “One of our battalions is taking heavy fire in the front, they have a lot of wounded, but no choppers can safely get in to bring them out to us. It makes more sense to try and fix them up as best as we can where they are and send them to a unit afterwards.” 

“Are you sure we’re not in trouble?” Klinger asked. “Cause that sounds like a punishment if I know any.” 

“I’m sorry, but we drew names. Two surgeons, one enlisted man, and one nurse or orderly.” 

“When do we leave?” you asked. You hoped the fear wasn’t too evident in your voice. You hoped once you got on the scene your medical brain would go on autopilot and block out anything unpleasant. 

“This afternoon, you should all pack a small bag and whatever materials you might need.” 

The group of you nodded your heads and ran off to get your things sorted. Once all of your stuff was packed, you opened the drawer in your nightstand and pulled out a letter, something you’d drafted a while ago. 

You asked around the camp for Father Mulcahy and found him sitting outside his tent, tending to some potted plants. 

“Father, do you have a quick moment?” 

“Yes of course my child. What is it?” he asked. 

“This letter,” you handed it to him. “In case I don’t make it back can you see that it gets to my children?” 

The Father was a little taken aback, but he nodded his head. 

“I will, but I have faith that you and the rest of your company will make it back safely.” 

“Thank you, Father, I appreciate the sentiment.” 

“I will be sure to pray for your well-being while you’re away.” 

You smiled and shook the priest’s hand. “I’ll be praying right there with you.” 

You took a deep breath and swallowed your nervousness before making your way to the jeep that was going to take you out. 

You tossed your things in the back and sat in the front with Hawkeye while Klinger and Mr. Park sat in the back. 

You hated the army’s jeeps. You thought they were the most uncomfortable car in the world. You missed driving on regular paved roads, in normal cars, but you knew that was a luxury you weren’t going to have for a while. 

You tried not to talk, afraid it would give away how nervous you were. Instead, you took out the most recent photo your father had sent of Grant and Julia, smiling at how much they had grown since you last saw them. Apparently, Julia had asked your dad to teach her how to read and in exchange, she agreed to learn to play poker. You’d probably have some pretty hefty competition between the two of them when you got back. 

You tried your best to keep it in your mind. When not if. 

Around thirty minutes later you arrived at the camp and the Colonel wasn’t exaggerating when he briefed you on the number of wounded and the amount of fire they were facing from the North Koreans. 

“I’ll do triage,” you told Hawkeye. “You get started on the worst ones and I’ll join you once we’ve determined some level of priority.” 

You had to yell to be heard over the constant sound of shells going off, by the end of this your throat would be raw. 

You agreed that was the best first course of action. Klinger and Mr. Park set up some sort of makeshift OR for you both, giving penicillin when needed and cleaning everything with as much ether as they had. 

Before you knew it you were elbow deep in a soldier digging as much shrapnel out of him as you could. 

You could hear the faint whistle of some sort of bomb or missile and your eyes went wide. 

“Cover the patients!” you yelled and it was a good call as dust and rubble fell from above. Whenever that happened you did your best to irrigate the open wounds, but it felt like it was almost useless. 

Considering there were just the two of you surgeons it took you a while to attend to all the patients and by the time you did it was dark outside, but the shelling seemed nonstop. 

You were walking with Hawkeye, trying to check in on all of the patients as best as you could, identifying symptoms if there were any when another bomb went off causing whatever was left over of the structure above you to crumble down. 

“Look out!” Hawkeye grabbed you and pulled you out of the line of the debris, thankful it wasn’t on top of one of the wounded. You shrieked when you saw the cement fall in front of you, gripping tightly onto your fellow surgeon. 

It took you a moment to recover from your shock, but when you did you blinked a few times and looked over at Hawkeye. 

“You saved my life,” you whispered. 

“It’s in the job description, don’t mention it,” he shrugged, trying to lighten the mood, but all you could do was hug him, thankful he saved your babies from losing another parent. 

You tried to compose yourself, but you were a bit shaken for the rest of the evening. You couldn’t even rest as you sat and ate dinner out of a can, your hands carrying a tremor with them. 

While Klinger and Mr. Park went to sleep, you stared up at the blank sky, wondering where all the stars had gone.

“It’s been a long day,” Hawkeye said quietly from behind you. “You should get some rest.” 

You were silent for a moment before speaking, “This is where my husband died,”  your voice was reflective. “On the front I mean.”  

Hawkeye was quiet, he listened to you carefully. 

“I knew it was bad from his letters, but this…” 

“I know it’s not much of a consolation, but I’m sure there are a few wives who will be very happy with the work you’ve done here,” he reminded you. “Isn’t that why you came?” 

You nodded your head. 

“But what about my kids,” you asked. “Was it selfish of me to come out here? To risk orphaning them?” 

“I-” he shut his mouth. “I don’t know. I’m not sure I could ever know. I haven’t been a husband, or a father, and definitely won’t be a mother.” 

You chuckled at that comment. 

“Have I ever shown you a picture of them?” you asked and Hawkeye shook his head. You moved back to sit next to him and pulled out the picture from your pocket. 

“My dad tells me Julia doesn’t go anywhere without the doll you bought her,” you told him. 

“You said it was from me?” he asked and you nodded. 

“Yes, and they’re already very determined to have you visit us once we’re all back home,” you chuckled. “I miss them so much, Ben.” 

“I can only imagine,” he gave you a small smile. “Now come on, you’ve worked hard today. Let’s get some rest so we can go home tomorrow.” 

You finally agreed and were about to grab a blanket and lay down against your backpack when you saw Hawkeye motion for you to come closer. 

“I can grab my own blanket,” you remarked. 

“I know, but it’s not just for you.” 

You understood what he meant and laid with a part of your back against his chest, the side of his face pressed gently against the top of your head and his hands coming to steady your shaky ones. 

“Ben?” you whispered. 

“Mhmm?” His voice sounded groggy and quiet. 

“I-” you squeezed your eyes shut and decided against saying anything. “Goodnight.” 

“Goodnight,” he mumbled against your hair, a thumb rubbing against the back of your hand. 

You took a deep breath and closed your eyes, hoping you’d at least be safe for the night. 

Tags: @montyfandomlove

[deepspacedukat]

Safe Haven - Part Three

We’re here!!! We finally got to the part that has the scene from my dream in it!! I’ll put a note at the end to say which scene it was, but yeah! Enjoy! And thank you for taking this impromptu three-part ride with me! 💖

Also, for those of you on my taglist, I’m so sorry. I promise I’m not trying to spam you all. I’m just posting a lot because SoC and random plot bunnies.

Cross-posted to AO3 here.

~*~

S’Talon (OC) x Reader

[A/N: Implied smut/smut adjacent, so 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI!!!]

Warnings: Interspecies romance, angst, flirtation, cuddling, kissing, angst with a happy ending, implied interspecies sex, implied Human/Romulan sex.

~*~

S’Talon had caught her looking, he was sure of it. For once, any forwardness on his part was entirely an accident, but he was certain beyond the shadow of a doubt that she had glanced down intentionally.

A week after S’Talon discovered his labor of love in his hostess’s library, the subject matter of said painting reminded him that he had never asked about the water he kept hearing. He brought it up to her one evening, and she told him about the small creek snaking through the woods near the house. The narrow body of water apparently led to a crystal clear lake with a small beach along a section of the shore.

In the early afternoon the next day, he’d gone to the lake, stripped down, and dove in for a swim. It had been too long since the last time he’d gone skinny dipping, so he remained there longer than he’d anticipated. The cool water felt rejuvenating as it welcomed him into its depths, caressing him as gently as a lover as he swam deeper. Bright sunlight trickled through the trees and across the water, creating an idyllic scene as his head burst through the lake’s surface so he could breathe.

Shaking the water from his eyes, S’Talon blinked and caught sight of a figure on the shore near his clothing with a couple of towels slung over their arm.

Ah. He knew he’d forgotten something. He swam to lake’s edge and began to climb out before he remembered his state of undress. She seemed to realize he wasn’t wearing anything when the tops of his nude hips became visible, because she offered him one of the towels she’d brought. At the last moment, though, she glanced down as he approached, then quickly looked away biting her lip.

S’Talon couldn’t help the ego boost he got from her reaction. He was very aware that he wasn’t lacking in stature with any part of his anatomy, but it still felt good to know that she was impressed.

“Thank you. Are you alright, lhhei?” He asked as he draped the towel around his waist.

“Oh, I...you’d been gone for a while, and I just noticed you didn’t bring any towels with you, so I...yeah. I’ll uh...I’ll set the extras with your clothes and leave you to it,” she said before rushing back in the direction of the house. Perhaps one day - if he was extremely lucky - he’d be able to convince her to swim with him...

--

For a couple of days after that, their contact was somewhat more limited and subdued than before. S’Talon couldn’t help but wonder if she’d been more embarrassed than he had supposed by the incident at the lake. When he was preparing to go to bed one night, though, he smelled something somewhat familiar.

What was that? It was sweet...warm...even a little sugary. How odd. Slipping on a pair of sleep pants, the Riov padded quietly out of his bedroom and went to investigate.

When he caught sight of his hostess, he saw her staring pensively at the painting he’d completed for her. The majestic firefalls of Gal Gath’thong now hung proudly over the mantle above her fireplace, seemingly flickering and flowing in the light low, warm lighting of its own accord.

Something was wrong, though. Her brow was furrowed. She’d been so appreciative of the painting when he’d presented it to her that he was quite certain that whatever was troubling her didn’t have anything to do with the artwork. What could it be, then?

The mug in her hands was half-empty, but his nose told him that the liquid within was the source of the scent he’d detected only moments prior. It smelled almost like chocolate. What could she be doing drinking such a strong intoxicant at such a late hour?

Her eyes widened a bit when she noticed him standing in the doorway to the living area in nothing more than a pair of soft sleep pants. He hadn’t intended to bother her, especially not shirtless. Slowly, carefully, S’Talon made his way to the sofa and took a seat beside her, glancing from the mug to her face.

“What could be serious enough to drive a lady like you to drink alone?” He asked in a low, gentle voice. Even he could hear the concern lying beneath the surface of his words, but she simply looked amused.

“Chocolate may behave like alcohol for Romulans, S’Talon, but it doesn’t for Humans,” she murmured as a smile crept across her lips. “For me, this is nothing more than something warm and sweet.”

Oh, right. He’d forgotten that little biological difference. Humans really were remarkable. They had a third of a Romulan’s strength, yet they could stomach a large mug of warmed chocolate without so much as it lowering their inhibitions.

“Then...may I ask if you’re alright? You looked troubled a moment ago...” Curiosity permeated him in the wake of his relief. She took a leisurely sip of her drink before answering.

“Whenever I had something serious on my mind when I was growing up, my grandmother would make us hot chocolate and talk it through with me. Sometimes all I needed was someone to listen while I talked my own way through the issue,” she explained, and S’Talon tilted his head curiously as he turned to face her a bit more fully. So something had been on her mind.

“If there is anything I can do to help, I assure you, dear lady, I’m the soul of discretion. Anything you tell me or ask of me will remain entirely confidential,” the Riov promised, and she looked at him with an unreadable expression.

Taking the final sip from her mug, she set it aside and scooted close enough to lean her head against his bare shoulder. Her arms wrapped loosely around his bicep as she took a deep breath. S’Talon’s heart thudded faster in his side, and he rested his chin softly against the top of her head as his hand covered one of hers.

“You just being here is enough,” she murmured, and S’Talon smiled against the top of her head. If this was what she needed from him, he would happily oblige. In fact, there was very little he would refuse her, at this point.

He’d spent a significant amount of time sorting through his feelings, wondering what the hell she was doing to him. By the time he finally realized what was happening, it was too late to go back.

Riov S’Talon - the man said to be almost impossible to tie down - was in love. This wasn’t the same type of appreciation he’d felt for his past lovers, oh no. This was deeper. This tugged at his soul and consumed him as quickly and fully as a fire would a forest’s underbrush. He’d been so happy every time a friend had found the person who completed them, but he never thought that he’d be fortunate enough to find the one who would make him feel as though all of him was visible and desirable...

But he had.

He had no idea how long they stayed tangled up like that, but eventually he felt her shift against his arm. Looking down, S’Talon’s eyes met hers, and the soft expression on her face stole his breath away. Could she feel the growing tension between them too? Did she want to kiss him as much as he wanted to kiss her? Would she kiss him?

Her free hand reached up, cupping his cheek softly as she sat up. She didn’t move away immediately, and S’Talon’s heart leapt. Was this it? From his experience, that look from a partner usually meant they wanted to kiss him. Badly.

“...Thank you for your company tonight, but it’s getting late. I should get to bed before I fall asleep on you. I wouldn’t want to trap you here,” she breathed, and then she was on her feet, putting her empty mug back in the replicator before he could so much as find his voice to protest. She didn’t have to. He’d welcome her using him as a pillow anytime. He would adore her falling asleep on him. She’d been so gentle and soft in his arms. “Goodnight, S’Talon.”

“Goodnight, e’lev lhhei,” he murmured, noting how rough his voice sounded. When she disappeared down the hall and into her bedroom, the Riov felt more bereft than he had in all his life. All he’d done was not receive a kiss when he thought that he would. Why did he feel like he was crumbling into pieces?

This love was dangerous, and that realization didn’t bode well for his eventual departure. Rubbing his hands down his face, he sighed heavily. He was doomed. This woman was going to break his heart, and he had no idea how he was going to put it back together afterward.

--

When S’Talon finally forced himself out of bed a few mornings later, he spent a few moments watching the rain trickle down the window panes. He hadn’t slept that night. In fact, he hadn’t slept for any of the three nights since he mistakenly thought his beautiful companion was going to kiss him. That moment kept replaying over and over in his mind’s eye, driving him nearly to the brink of insanity. The gentle, affectionate look in her eyes...the soft caress of her skin against his as she touched him...

Had it really only been gratitude? Every instinct within him screamed that it was more, but if it had been, surely she would have kissed him as he’d hoped...wouldn’t she? She didn’t seem like the type of person to shrink away from a challenge. Then again, perhaps she was intimidated by him. If her reaction down at the lake was anything to go by, that could very well be the case.

It was more likely, though, that she simply didn’t share his feelings.

What a foolish old man he was! He shouldn’t have hoped that his feelings were reciprocated. After all, he’d be gone soon. Surely she wouldn’t want to subject herself to the same heartbreak that he would undoubtedly experience at his departure.

The thought that troubled him the most, though, was that he didn’t want to leave at all. With increasing frequency over the last week, the Riov found himself seriously tempted to stay with his lovely woman on this gorgeous planet. This felt like a major crossroads for S’Talon - one that he didn’t yet know how to approach.

As he always did when he was approaching a difficult question, S’Talon turned to his art for an answer.

Sighing heavily, the Romulan Captain dressed in a tunic that his hostess had replicated for him the day he arrived. The soft fabric was somewhere between slate blue and gray, bringing out the depth of color in his eyes. There was a pair of pants that complemented it, and he realized rather belatedly that there was an inherent sentimentality in his choice. She had replicated that outfit for him. Though the sleeves were a little long, she had believed that this color would look good on him.

He really was in over his head.

Truth be told, S’Talon enjoyed the feeling of someone caring enough to put real thought into something that was meant for him. Though she likely didn’t care for him the way he wished that she did, he still savored the feeling of the soft fabric caressing his skin.

Grabbing his sketchbook and charcoal, he wandered out of his room and toward the back porch in the hopes that the soothing natural rhythm of the rain would help him relax and distract him from his troubled thoughts. Maybe then, his subconscious would be able to sort out what he should do.

As he opened the door, though, his breath caught in his throat. On one end of the loveseat was the very woman who had practically made a home in his mind. When she looked up at him seemingly unaware that he’d been there for several long moments, S’Talon cleared his throat quietly, giving her a small smile in an attempt to appear more confident than he felt.

“May I join you, my lady? I find it soothing to sketch during a gentle rain.”

She smiled up at him and patted the seat next to her in invitation.

“Of course. What’s mine is yours, S’Talon,” she murmured, and the Riov thanked her, sitting beside her as she’d indicated.

The pair lapsed into silence, enjoying the sound of raindrops trickling down from the heavens and onto the ground below. The rustling of leaves in the wind added an almost musical quality to the atmosphere, and, with a particularly swirling gust, S’Talon made up his mind about what he wanted to draw.

As surreptitiously as he could manage, he stole glances at his companion, carving out her visage in profile on the page, even including the book that lay closed atop her lap. Gradually, he shut off his mind and began to lose himself in his art, creating the strands of her hair and the curve of her eyelashes with the ease of his many decades of experience.

The shape of her lips, the gentle slope of her neck as she reclined easily with the use of the small ottoman in front of her...S’Talon brought every part of her to life upon the page in front of him. He worked with such focus that by the time he’d filled the pair of pages in front of him with sketches of her, he couldn’t be sure just how much time had passed.

Just as he always did when he drew himself out of an intense sketching session, S’Talon felt as though he was waking from a dream...as though he had come back to reality from a land filled only with flicks of the wrist and smears of black and gray. He set his charcoal carefully into his sketchbook and allowed himself the rare luxury of observing his lovely companion unfettered.

Apparently, she hadn’t noticed yet that he’d stopped. He’d observed her before, of course, but usually he had the excuse of being in conversation with her. Now, though, he had no such reasoning to hide his interest in her. He wanted so desperately to reach out and touch her...to coax her into his arms and confess everything he felt for her, but he knew that wasn’t feasible.

He already knew that when he left, his heart would be torn in half by the loss of her. S’Talon didn’t want to give her any reason to experience the same pain. As much as he wanted her to feel the same, he didn’t want her to be hurt at his hands, physically or emotionally. If she was, he knew he could never forgive himself. She’d been so kind and generous and welcoming. How could he justify risking her heart, too? Surely he would experience enough heartbreak for the both of them–

The Riov blinked and she was looking at him. Her lovely, much-too-clever eyes were staring right into his soul, likely dissecting his feelings as easily as she dismantled encryption codes. Of course, he supposed that hadn’t exactly been subtle. He was quite certain that his feelings were plainly written upon his face - longing and love were undoubtedly obvious in his expression. He couldn’t hide it.

Alarmingly, he didn’t want to hide it anymore.

Looking down at his sketchbook, surprise flitted over her face as she realized that she had been the subject of his artistic endeavors on this rainy morning. Her eyes flicked back up to his, and she reached carefully over, rubbing her thumb over his cheek as she mumbled something about a charcoal smudge.

S’Talon knew she was just being helpful, but he couldn’t stop himself. He leaned into her gentle touch, allowing his eyelids to flutter shut for a moment before he caught her hands in his and brought them to his lips. Taking a shaky breath, he opened his eyes from his stolen moment of bliss just in time to see her swallow nervously and get to her feet.

His heart almost stopped in his side. Had he scared her away?

Instead of leaving, though, she set his sketching materials and her book aside  and took a tentative seat sideways on his lap. She braced her hands on his broad shoulders and was unfazed when he steadied her with his large, strong hands.

S’Talon could scarcely believe that this was real. Was he truly awake? His hostess looked as surprised by her own boldness as he felt.

“E’lev...you have no idea how much I want to kiss you,” he breathed, using the last of his restraint to hold himself back. This had to be her choice. He wouldn’t rush this. No matter how far they’d come or what he could infer from her behavior, this had to be her decision. He wouldn’t risk her heart with his own foolish wishes. If the flames of desire were to be fanned between them, he couldn’t be the one to start it. Not this time. She had to actively choose to take this risk.

And she did. One moment S’Talon was awestruck by the sight of the woman he loved in his arms, and the next, her soft, beautiful lips were against his. He kissed her back - of course he did - and she stole his thoughts and discipline all at once when she let out a quiet whimper against his lips. Wrapping one arm around her waist to pull her closer, the Riov wove his free hand into her hair near the base of her skull, trying to convey how much he felt for her with just his lips.

He didn’t rush her, didn’t change her pace, instead he simply met her passion with own. Eventually, they broke apart for breath, and S’Talon cupped her face as lightly as he could, dropping gentle kisses against her forehead, her eyelids, and her nose with all the tenderness he could muster.

When their lips met again, he could taste salt. Were those his tears or hers? Both, perhaps?

His curiosity was obliterated by the feeling of her fingers fumbling with the front of his tunic. Sweeping her up into his arms, the Riov carried his lover inside. She deserved to have their first time together be in a bed where he could spread her out and truly worship her.

Several hours later, having accomplished exactly that multiple times, S’Talon and his lady love were tangled up in each other, basking in the afterglow of the most intense orgasms of their lives. Her small, delicate fingers traced nonsensical patterns over his chest through the silvery hair that covered his pecs when he heard her sniffle.

It took him a moment to process what he’d heard, but when she sniffled a second time, alarm coursed through him.

“Sweet girl...Oh, e’lev, what’s wrong?” S’Talon asked as he gently kissed away her tears. “Have I hurt you?”

She shook her head, allowing him to wrap her in his arms and hold her close.

“I’m sorry,” she stammered against his chest, and before the Riov could ask what she meant, she continued quickly as if confessing to a crime. “I know this probably isn’t what you wanted. You probably have lady friends in every system, and this is likely just another affair to you, but I...S’Talon, I think I’m in love with you.”

Was he dreaming? She’d deduced rather early on that he was something of a lady’s man and a flirt, joking that he probably charmed every woman he came across, and he hadn’t dissuaded her of the notion. She was essentially correct, but he hadn’t realized that that particular fact had been causing her such consternation and anxiety. Was this what she’d been so troubled by the night he found her sipping hot chocolate and staring off into nothingness? Had she been afraid that he couldn’t return her affections because of his past?

Nothing could be further from the truth. He’d been grateful that she’d felt attracted to him in the first place, but for her to feel the same way he did...S’Talon knew he’d been given a miraculous gift. He just needed to ensure that she knew that, too.

With tears brimming in his own eyes, S’Talon pulled back just far enough to kiss his lover with all the emotion that had been pounding away inside his chest.

“You’re...not mad at me?” A small, damp laugh escaped him before he could stop it, and he kissed her forehead.

“Of course not. In fact, I’ll let you in on a secret,” he murmured, leaning in to whisper in her ear. “I love you, too, e’lev. I love you with all that I am.”

If the soft kisses she peppered across his face were any indication, they’d been sharing the same emotional torment. Her lips met his, and they twined together once more, reveling in the relief that they were both equally smitten with each other.

--

The weeks that followed were as idyllic as a dream. Melting into each other over and over, S’Talon and his lover lived as though they’d always been together and would be inseparable for the rest of their lives.

But they both knew in the backs of their minds that time was an imminent threat. Beneath all the sweet, romantic words, the kisses and caresses, there was the sobering knowledge that soon the Dhaemnasi would expect his Riov to come back to Romulus. Every moment, every second that passed drew them just that much closer to their hearts shattering irreparably, but neither of them would change their decision to be together for anything.

Finally, one morning while they were laying in bed together catching their breath, S’Talon realized there might be a way to delay time, even if he couldn’t stop it.

“E’lev, you get assignments from the Tal, occasionally. Do you have a secure commlink to Koval that I can use?” S’Talon murmured, and his little lover kissed her way softly across his cheek.

“I’ll set it up for you,” she promised before slipping out of his arms and grabbing a robe to do just that. How had he gotten so lucky? Mere moments later, he stood fully dressed in front of the comm screen and watched Koval’s face appear.

“Status report, Riov,” the Dhaemnasi ordered, and S’Talon obliged him, giving him a perfunctory nod of his head.

“The mission went without incident. There were no unanticipated problems or consequences,” he stated, and Koval lifted an eyebrow.

“There are still two weeks left before you return. If there were no complications, then what, may I ask, is the purpose of your communication?”

After a final, minor hesitation and a deep, steadying breath, S’Talon looked at his old friend and prayed that he would understand the significance of what he was about to do.

“I wish to request a leave of absence. It has been over a decade since I have taken more than a short pause between missions. As such, I should have a significant amount of time accumulated,” the Riov said watching as Koval tilted his head. “I realize this isn’t exactly the most convenient request that I could make, but...”

“A leave of absence? Are you certain, old friend? For a man of your standing such a break would not harm your career, but you’ve always been so enthusiastic and dedicated,” the Chairman said adopting a slightly more relaxed posture in his chair. “What happened?”

Allowing his own posture to slacken by a fraction, he leaned back against the desk behind him.

“I...believe I may have found something unique here, something...that I desperately need to explore.” Raising a placating hand, S’Talon cut off the other man’s objections before he could voice them. “I’m quite certain I know what you’re thinking, and no, I am not asking for this leave time in order to conduct a mere fling. I would never shirk my responsibilities for something temporary. This time...Koval, I have never felt a connection like this. Perhaps this sounds melodramatic, but there is a part of my very being that is screaming for me to pursue this, and if I don’t, I feel as though I’ll die. My old friend, you know I would never make a request like this unless it was for a good reason.”

S’Talon watched as his friend steepled his fingers. Silence stretched between them for longer than he’d expected, and just when he was certain he’d made a mistake even hoping for a positive reaction, Koval nodded his head.

“How long?”

The Riov could barely believe he’d gotten this far.

“Long enough to determine what she and I should do. If I recall correctly, I think I have over half a year of leave time built up, so...maybe two of those months?” S’Talon suggested, and Koval shook his head.

“No, that simply won’t do,” the Dhaemnasi said, and S’Talon’s heart plummeted. “Take three instead.”

Looking up sharply, he was quite certain that surprise was etched across his face.

“Pardon?”

“Take three months of leave. That should be sufficient time for you both to determine if you wish to truly pursue this, and if you do, you’ll also have time to consider how you will make such a relationship possible.” S’Talon could hardly believe what he was hearing. “Did you truly believe I would refuse you? I’ll handle the details. Now, go. Be with your mate. If you need anything else, you know where to find me.”

The Riov barely had time to stammer out his gratitude before the Dhaemnasi terminated the connection. He was free. Shutting off the terminal, S’Talon walked out of his lover’s study and found her humming a quiet tune as she poured tea into two mugs for them. He wasted no time in striding over to her and setting the teapot aside as he crushed his lips against hers.

“He said yes,” he breathed between kisses, and she threw her arms around his shoulders. “He must’ve been afraid of angering his best hacker. I’m afraid you’re stuck with me for a while, e’lev lhhei.”

“Oh, what a terrible shame,” she teased as he lifted her onto the countertop and stepped between her legs. Her fingers wove into his graying hair and S’Talon joyfully accepted her affection. They would have time to discuss their options and their future, but first, he wanted to make the woman he loved scream his name again.

~*~*~

Taglist:

@android-boyfriends @attention-bajoranworkers @bigblissandlove1 @darkmattervibes @emilie786 @horta-in-charge @live-logs-and-proper @slutty-slutty-vulcans @starrynightgardens @toebeans-mcgee

~*~

For those who are interested, the scene from my dream was the one where S’Talon joins the reader on the porch during the rain shower and sketches her. It was from my perspective, and I woke up right before I could try to wipe the charcoal smudge off his cheek, though. 😭 So now you know what drove me to the brink of insanity.