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translations-dark-matter · 10 months ago

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Living as an Extra in an Omegaverse novel

Side story Chapter 20

Shin Tae-oh rested his head on his leg and stroked the heads of the sleeping Se-hyeon. The only thing the two did when they came up to the attic was talk, but perhaps because he got tired quickly, Se-hyeon slept well even on the bare floor.

“Well, Se-hyeon did a lot of things today.”

He drove all the way here himself, and stayed by Shin Tae-oh's side the whole time even when he was drunk. And considering that he had been waiting for an opportunity to propose, he was sure to be tired.

“The ring will be given at the wedding hall.”

Although he said he didn't give him a ring on purpose, the person speaking had a more expectant look in his eyes. Until I had a baby, I was hesitant about the topic of marriage. Now it seemed like he too was accepting it.

It could be that he was doing it reluctantly, but looking at Se-hyeon's recent appearance, it didn't seem like that was the case.

Se-hyeon took each step step by step without skipping a single thing. This goes beyond his meticulous personality and reflects his desire to not neglect anything.

“Why do you always fall in love with people?”

Shin Tae-oh looked at the board again.

- The left side of his face looks better. It would be good to have Shin Tae-oh sit on the left during the interview.

- Always wear a navy blue suit for important contracts!

- Why do you wear your coat collar up like this…

I also collected a lot of press releases from SR Construction, but what caught my eye was the place where Shin Tae-oh's personal information was written. When he was working, he had a face so hard that not even a needle could go through it, but what did he think of himself on the inside?

“Se-hyeon, don’t I look pretty with my coat collar up?”

“Uhm...”

As Shin Tae-oh spoke, Se-hyeon squinted his eyes and pursed his lips.

“Are you lying on my left side so you can see the left side of my face?”

Shin Tae-oh continued to talk to Se-hyeon, who was still asleep. Even though Se-hyeon couldn't hear anything, Shin Tae-oh didn't stop.

“I didn’t even know that, I thought there would be no one for me in my life.”

I couldn't believe that I was only paying attention to other people without even knowing that there was someone there just for me. Se-hyeon stood next to him and silently received a gift for someone else and gave it to him. Every time I thought about that past, Se-hyeon felt shameless.

Shin Tae-oh sighed out of self-destruction that he had not yet shaken off, and then inadvertently discovered something. It was a memo pad hidden behind a board.

Shin Tae-oh reached out his hand to pick it up but stopped. My hand barely touched the pad. However, Se-hyeon's leg was cut to make it difficult for him to lift his body any further. I couldn't get up because I was afraid Se-hyeon would wake up.

Shin Tae-oh, who was in a difficult situation for one reason or another, looked at the pad wistfully.

Should I give up?

Then I can stay still so that Se-hyeon can sleep soundly again. But once you become curious about people, you start to want to see them.

I couldn't fold it like that.

Shin Tae-oh was biting his lip and thinking about what to do, but when Se-hyeon moved in his sleep, he quickly pulled out his legs and cupped his face with his hands. For a moment, Shin Tae-oh sighed in relief when he saw that Se-hyeon was not awake.

While wondering what he was doing, Shin Tae-oh used his slightly longer body length to grab the pad.

There were many books scattered around the board, but Shin Tae-oh didn't know why he needed to look at this memo. It was just a feeling.

Shin Tae-oh picked up the pad. It was yellow paper with lines drawn on it, so you could write on it whenever you needed and tear it up as much as you wanted. Shin Tae-oh had seen Se-hyeon carry this memo pad in his arms a few times, between his folders. Se-hyeon uses his cell phone the most, but he sometimes writes things down by hand.

To that extent, Se-hyeon also wrote in bold letters…

-Please use common sense for this reason.

-Oh, that same excuse again.

-I won't receive a gift...

...Is it mine?

-Taenyang... Do you have any intention of dating?

-You really like it, right?

"Haha."

I laughed because I thought I knew when the note was written. At that time, he always seemed to get things done quickly and without a trace of laughter, and I was thinking this.

Shin Tae-oh shook off his laughter and looked at the last phrase again.

-You really like it, right?

Se-hyeon had already felt what he realized too late.

So when he said he had a crush on Se-hyeon, it was natural that he thought it was a joke. I knew it back then, but now that I know Se-hyeon's inner thoughts, I can see that he didn't trust Shin Tae-oh even more.

“And yet you treated me well.”

He didn't accept it from the beginning, but it wasn't a harsh rejection.

"Ha."

Shin Tae-oh buried his face in the pad.

“Really, Ahn Se-hyeon, why is he so lovely?”

It's really crazy good.

***

Se-hyeon felt the hard floor against his back and realized that he had fallen asleep in the attic. Should I have closed my eyes with Shin Tae-oh when he slept? Still, it wasn't cold because his mother turned on the boiler.

Because I'm not alone anymore. Because I have honey rice cake, I pay more attention to it.

“Shin Tae-oh.”

Se-hyeon got up and looked for Shin Tae-oh. I wondered if he went down alone.

“I’m here.”

Se-hyeon turned to look at him at the sound of a voice coming from right next to him and pulled his body back in surprise.

“What’s wrong with your face?”

“What’s wrong with my face?”

Shin Tae-oh stroked his cheek and tried to shake his head to say he didn't know, but he flinched and bit his lip tightly.

"Are you sick?"

I thought it was strange that Shin Tae-oh's face was pale, but he couldn't hide it all and made a painful expression. Se-hyeon quickly grabbed his shoulder and checked his condition. The veins on Shin Tae-oh's face are so bad that they stand out. What is that big of a deal?

"...Lee."

"Yes?"

"Leg…”

Se-hyeon looked at Shin Tae-o's legs as the words flowed out of his mouth. It's stretched out somewhat to one side, but I don't know what's strange...

“It’s numb because the blood isn’t flowing.”

"Ah."

After hearing the reason why Shin Tae-oh was in pain, Se-hyeon belatedly remembered one fact. I slept on the bare floor, but where was my head?

"It hurts a lot?"

Shin Tae-oh shook his head as Se-hyeon said as he stretched his hand towards his leg.

“Don’t touch it.”

Shin Tae-oh was shocked and stopped Se-hyeon. As if he would never be able to stand still no matter how much he loved Se-hyeon if he touched him now, Shin Tae-oh begged Se-hyeon not to touch him with as much sincerity as when he confessed that he loved her.

Of course, Se-hyeon, who was so worried about Shin Tae-oh, could not ignore his plea.

Suddenly.

“Off.”

Hearing Shin Tae-oh's moans as if all the air was gone, Se-hyeon massaged his legs with even more strength.

“If you touch me like this, the blood will flow faster!”

“Oh, no.”

“It’s better than leaving it alone, right? Trust me.”

“...”

Shin Tae-oh seemed to be speechless anymore, with his mouth open and a very distressed expression on his face. Even my face, which had been gray, began to lose color quickly, perhaps because the blood was not flowing through it. As I was looking at Shin Tae-oh's blushing face, I enjoyed seeing it as it was.

How pitiful it was to not be able to struggle in the meantime.

Should we stop joking around at this point? I got numb because I gave up my leg to be my pillow, but I can't keep torturing him.

“Now, answer me now. Who is it, me or Kkultteok?”

"That…”

Se-hyeon kindly gave Shin Tae-oh a chance to let go. When Se-hyeon looked at him with expectant eyes, Shin Tae-oh closed his eyes tightly.

“I’d rather endure it.”

“...”

It would be better for him to choose me over the honey rice cake that hasn't even been born yet, but he is stubborn.

“You really can’t choose?”

Se-hyeon climbed up onto Shin Tae-oh's legs and sat down.

"Ah."

At this level, everything should be resolved. No matter how long he endured, Shin Tae-oh has not yet escaped the pain. However, he stubbornly persisted, and even Se-hyeon was amazed.

“Kkultteok... could resemble Se-hyeon.”

“...”

“So you can’t choose.”

Shin Tae-oh shook his head and said that he could never like anyone more. Se-hyeon saw that and tilted his head to one side.

“What if they look like Shin Tae-oh?”

“I’m not going to think about that.”

Shin Tae-oh went beyond his choice and just showed his desire for a honey rice cake that looked like Se-hyeon.

He's a human being who puts pain over something that doesn't really matter.

Se-hyeon came down from Shin Tae-oh's leg as if he had accepted him. It's definitely not because I see him getting better. Never.

“Now go down.”

He had to check how long he had been in the attic. If it was still early, he thought it would be better to go to bed and sleep.

Now that I think about it, I don't know if Shin Tae-oh was sleeping with me while I was sleeping. I drank so much and didn't sleep for a few hours.

Se-hyeon moved his body first and opened the attic door.

“I like the honey rice cake that looks like Shin Tae-oh better.”

Just like that, Se-hyeon gave Shin Tae-oh an answer he didn't even ask and went down with a grin.

“A honey rice cake that looks like me? Then what about you?"

Shin Tae-oh, who belatedly recovered from his shock, followed Se-hyeon down and asked.

“Kkultteok hasn’t been born yet. So, I…”

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ragingbookdragon · 4 years ago

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A Lifetime In The Dreams Between

Hal Jordan x Reader One-Shot

Word Count: 3.1K Warnings: Explicit Lanuage, Angst!

Author's Note: I have completed an idea! Enjoy! -Thorne

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

He didn’t know what happened. One second he was throwing up a shield to protect himself from the blast and the next his eyes were widening as the black magic passed through the construct and hit him straight in the chest. Shouts echoed all around him, but all Hal understood was that the world was swirling black and blue around him, figures blurring faster and faster, and he finally understood what it was like to see the world when Barry would run. And all he remembered was feeling the blood drain from his face as he dropped to his knees, and pitched forward, falling into darkness.

***

He could hear voices above him, stressed and frantic.

“He’s going into cardiac arrest!” Barry.

“Shit! Flash shock him!” (Y/N)?

“He won’t survive that much generated electricity!”

“Hal won’t survive if you don’t! Damn it, Barry! Shock him!”

Hands pressed to his chest and a shock jumped Hal’s chest, and he descended back into darkness.

***

His eyes snapped open, and he winced, raising a hand to his head, but someone grabbed his arm. “Don’t try to move, Hal.”

He lolled his head, eyes rolling as the metal ceiling flowed above; he felt so far away and so weak, brain fuzzing, and Barry appeared in his sight, searing his gaze.

“He’s having a seizure. His brain can’t handle the stress.” He looked at the woman across from him. “We have to get him to the med bay.”

She nodded, folding Hal’s hand back to his chest as she worried, “Hang on, Hal. You’re going to be okay.”

(Y/N)’s voice was so comforting, so warm, so trusting, and all Hal could do was shut his eyes, his brain imploding on itself.

***

He rolled over onto his side, burrowing his face in the soft pillow, exhaling deeply. Sleep welcomed him again and he was about to fall off the deep end when someone’s hand caressed his hip, lips pressing against the space between his shoulder blades.

“Good morning,” they murmured, trailing kisses up his back to his neck and to his ear. “Sleep well?”

He moaned lowly in his throat and turned his head, blinking blearily as their face came into clearing—actually her face, and suddenly his eyes went wide as he flailed, pulling away from her. “(Y/N)!”

She cocked a brow as he fell over the side of the bed, immediately shooting up, eyes shocked and very confused. “That’s my name, Hal.” Propping herself on her elbow, she asked, “Everything alright?”

Hal’s mouth opened and closed, and he looked down, his eyes widening all over again as he realized he was nude; he jerked the sheet to cover himself, an action not really in his repertoire. His coffee eyes went to her body, and she was there too, bare as the morning day.

“You’re naked. We’re naked,” he blurted out and she huffed a laugh.

“Yeah? Traditionally, married people typically get naked every other night when they make love.”

“Married?” Hal’s eyes shot to his left hand, and he almost collapsed on the floor again; sure enough a gold band was around his ring finger. “Holy shit,” he breathed, and he wasn’t sure what he was supposed to be more shocked about, the fact that they were married or that he didn’t remember it.

“Hal?” (Y/N) was crawling over the bed, her hand coming to cup his cheek. “Is everything alright?”

He gazed into her eyes, so stunned that this woman that hated his guts was so concerned for him. “I…I don’t know.”

Her brows furrowed and she shuffled, sitting on the edge of the bed, and maneuvered Hal’s head until it was resting in her lap, his back against the side of the frame. She carded her fingers through his hair and bent down, gently pressing kisses where she could reach, to his forehead, his nose, his cheeks, his lips, everywhere; then she smiled against his lips. “Something tells me you and Barry got so drunk last night you forgot you married me.”

“What?”

(Y/N) snorted, pulling away and with her free hand, she caressed his cheek. “You and Barry went to Aviators last night and came back at like three AM hammered out of your minds.” Her smile was ridiculously bright, and it made Hal’s heartbeat flutter against his rib cage. “You,” she started, but broke into a giggle. “You looked at me and said, ‘Hey pretty mama, wanna fly with me?’.”

Laughing again, she continued, “And when I said that I was your wife, you went, ‘Holy shit, I scored.’.” (Y/N) sighed wistfully and kissed his forehead. “Barry collapsed onto the couch, and you left a trail of clothes from the living room before collapsing in the bed.”

Tugging a strand of his brown hair, she said, “I had to maneuver the covers underneath your body in order to get into bed last night.” She pressed one more kiss to his forehead. “You’re still hungover though, so get back in bed and sleep a little while longer while I go make sure Barry’s up and awake, okay?”

Hal could only nod and when he tipped his head up to let her stand, he stopped her and pulled her down, pressing his lips to hers. (Y/N) responded eagerly, already forgoing checking on the Speedster as she lowered herself into his lap, and Hal immediately wrapped one arm around her waist, the other planting itself on the bed as he shifted his legs, giving himself some leverage to pick the two of them off the ground and shuffle back onto the bed.

And the second Hal’s thighs connected with the mattress he found himself being shoved down onto it, (Y/N)’s hands smoothing down his chest and abs, a flirtatious look on her face.

He couldn’t help but feel cocky. “See something you like?”

She grinned, splaying her fingers on his abdomen. “Actually, I feel something I like.” (Y/N) ground down on his hips and Hal inhaled sharply, causing her grin to turn into a downright evil smirk as she quipped, “And it seems like you feel it too.”

His hands came up to grasp her hips when someone stumbled through the bedroom door. “Hey, do you guys have any toothpa—oh dear God, you guys are fonduing!” They both jumped and looked at Barry who was busy shoving a hand to cover his eyes, the other fumbling for the door frame. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry. I swear I didn’t see anything, (Y/N).”

Hal snorted. “How come you’re not swearing you didn’t see any of me?”

“Because I’ve seen all of you before, Hal. Multiple times in fact.” Barry retorted, speeding out of the bedroom.

(Y/N) chuckled and pressed a kiss to Hal’s collarbone, starting to shimmy out of his lap, only stopping when he started whining at her. “What?”

“Why are you leaving?” he questioned, and she flicked his shoulder.

“Because you need to get up and cook some breakfast before all of us have to get back out and go to work.”

Hal blanched. “Work?”

(Y/N) tossed him a look as she pulled on some pajama bottoms and one of his t-shirts. “Yes, Hal Jordan, you have to go into space and be a space ranger.”

“Oh, Green Lantern, right.” He sighed in relief. “I thought you meant the airfield.”

She snorted. “Oh, that too. Carol called and asked if you’d come down and fly one of the new F-18’s they got recently.”

Hal perked up. “How fast?”

“Fast, fly-boy. Now get up and go cook while I shower.” And she was off into their bathroom, shutting the door behind her.

***

Hal wandered into the kitchen, watching as Barry lifted his head from the refrigerator. “Morning.”

“Mornin’,” he replied, flicking on the coffee maker. “So…can I ask you a question?”

“I’m not checking your dick again to see if it’s above average, Hal,” Barry deadpanned and Hal about fell to his feet in laughter.

“What! No!” he chuckled and wiped his eyes, pouring water into the top of the coffee maker. “About last night…what…exactly happened?”

Barry looked at him, pulling out the pack of roast beef. “You don’t remember?”

“Well, from what (Y/N) said, I’m surprised either of us remembered how to get back here.” He met Barry’s eyes. “Everything’s a little fuzzy. I was just wondering if you could fill me in.”

The Speedster nodded, shoving a piece of meat in his mouth. “Well, I got off patrol and came over here, and then you said we should go out. But (Y/N) had some things to take care of, so she told us to go have fun. And then we went to that military bar you like, and we got dared to drink some marines under the table, and you can’t say no to a dare from ‘warthogs’, so you just had to drink more pitchers than they did.”

He snorted. “I barely had enough functioning brain cells to remember how to get back, but we just crammed into a cab and drove back here.” He wiped his eyes. “You kept telling the cabbie to play Danger Zone the entire time.”

Hal wasn’t somebody who was embarrassed easily, and as much as he loved Top Gun, he felt flustered that he was drunkenly belting out the main song the night before.

“And when we got here, I fell asleep on the couch, but (Y/N) was already chasing you down the hall because you were stripping left and right.”

Barry had all but fallen into hysterics as Hal merely set the coffee pot under the drip. “Yeah…about that too.” He felt confused. “You didn’t happen to like…change the timeline again, did you?”

The Speedster stopped laughing at that, blue eyes wide and concerned. “What? No. Why do you ask?”

Hal shook his head, twirling the gold band on his finger. “Because I don’t really remember marrying (Y/N)? But I do remember how much she hates my guts.”

“Well, yeah, but that death scare you gave her a few years ago really made her realize that as much as she hated you, she loved you just as much.” Barry rested a hand on his shoulder. “Now that I think about it, you did take a bad blow a couple days ago. Maybe you’re still reeling.”

The pilot nodded, listening to the coffee pour. “Yeah…maybe.”

Footsteps sounded from the living room and (Y/N) appeared in the entryway, a towel wrapped around her head, a bathrobe around her body; she scowled. “Hal, you were supposed to start breakfast.”

He blinked. “I haven’t even had coffee yet.”

“Lazy,” she griped, yanking the roast beef out of Barry’s hands. “That’s for sandwiches, not to eat out of the package, you bottomless pit.” Shoving the meat back in the refrigerator, she said, “There’s eggs…ham…I could omelets?”

“Omelets sound good,” Barry replied, taking the coffee mug out of Hal’s hands who in turn glared at the Speedster. “Do you have onions and peppers to add?”

“Mmm…I dunno…Hal used the last of the onions and peppers the other night to make steak with.” (Y/N) looked back at him, lips parting to speak when a beeping came from the living room.

Barry darted out and back in with a blinking device in his hands. “It’s the League Communicator.”

Immediately, she and Barry suited up and her eyes found Hal’s behind her blue mask. “Highball, get your head in the game. We’ve got a mission.”

He shook himself out of his stupor and the green suit formed to his body, though he muttered, “I still haven’t had my coffee yet…”

(Y/N) rolled her eyes. “Race you guys to the Watchtower.”

“You’re on.” Barry chirped, the two of them disappearing in flashes of yellow and blue.

***

It seemed like much more routine patrol than it was a mission, but still, when Hal and (Y/N) finally made it back to Coast City, they all but collapsed onto the couch. Her suit faded from her body, and she rolled onto her back, laying her head on his thigh.

“I’m so tired,” she groaned, shutting her eyes.

Hal stared down at her, the green suit receding. “You look tired,” he murmured, resting his arm comfortably on her chest, his fingers rubbing soothing circles in her collarbone. “I still can’t believe you socked that bank robber in the face like Guy.”

(Y/N) giggled. “Hey, that man can teach anyone to throw a good punch.” Her eyes opened, and she reached up, tracing the dark circles under his eyes. “You look more tired than I am, husband of mine.”

Hal smiled, turning his face to press a sweet kiss to her wrist. “I’m just glad we’re home for the evening.” He expected her face to rest in relief, but it only clouded, and he murmured, “(Y/N)? What’s wrong?”

“Do you remember what we talked about a couple week ago?”

No, he did not.“You know I have a terrible memory, babe.”

(Y/N) rolled her eyes, a knowing sigh passing her lips. “Your memory is almost as bad as Barry’s ability to be on time.” Blinking at the ceiling, she said, “You know, what we talked about…having a family? How you said you wanted to try?”

Hal’s heart dropped into his stomach. “Yeah? What about it?”

She looked up at him. “I’m pregnant.”

“What?” His eyes immediately darted to her stomach, and he reached down, pressing his hand to her abdomen. “Are you really?”

(Y/N) nodded. “Yeah. Took a test last night.” Snorting, she added, “I was going to tell you, but you went out and got drunk, so I figured I should wait.”

Hal simply stared at her stomach. “Holy shit. You’re pregnant?”

“Yes, Hal. I’m pregnant.”

“I did that?”

“No, Bruce did.”

He scowled at her. “That’s not funny.”

(Y/N) winked. “No, it’s not. It’s hilarious.” She rose from the sofa, stretching her arms above her head. “I say it’s probably time for bed.”

Hal watched her. “You go on ahead. I’ll be there soon.”

“Yeah?” he nodded, and she bent down, pecking his lips. “I love you, Hal.”

“I love you too, (Y/N),” he replied, watching as she walked down the hallway, disappearing into their bedroom.

It was so weird. To be married to her. He knew this had to be some giant hallucination from his subconscious desires of wanting her, but still, even this “dream” seemed so real. Usually, she and Hal were at each other’s throats; they’d fight at the drop of a hat just because the other looked at them funny, and yet, other than him and Barry, (Y/N) was the only person that could keep up with Hal. To keep him on his toes. The only person smart enough to keep in his six. The only person he trusted to be his wingman. And he realized through all their fights that he cared for her.

Hal looked down at the band on his finger, and something warm spread through his chest when he thought about a little kid running around the apartment dressed in a baby flight suit, squealing “daddy!” at the top of their lungs. He wanted that. As much as being a father scared him, he wanted that. And he wanted it with (Y/N).

He smiled widely and got to his feet, but the second he did, the world shifted, and his vision darkened, body becoming weightless as he dropped to the floor.

***

Something was stroking his hair, gently smoothing it across his forehead, and a voice whispered, “Wake up, Hal. C’mon.”

He tried to open his eyes, but they were so heavy.

“If you wake up, I’ll watch Top Gun with you until you’re thoroughly convinced I could fly a jet.”

That made him want to smile and the hand shifted, cupping his cheek.

“Just open your eyes for me, Hal. Please. I…I need you.”

“You do?” he murmured, managing to crack one eye open, taking in the sight of (Y/N) sitting there beside his med bay bed, tears in her eyes.

She gave him a watery laugh and leaned forward, pressing her lips to his cheek. “Yes, you stupid ass.” (Y/N) pulled away, running her hand over his cheek. “You’ve been out almost an entire day.”

Hal inhaled deeply as she helped him sit up. “What happened?”

“You took a blow of dark magic to the heart and almost died on us. Twice.” She took his temperature and heart rate. “You went into cardiac arrest on the field and then had a seizure when we got you here in the Watchtower.” Meeting his eyes, she said, “You owe Barry a thanks for shocking your heart and J’onn for getting your mind to calm during your seizure.”

He blinked, completely dumbfounded. “Wow…that’s…I took a lot of damage, huh?”

(Y/N)’s eyes flashed with anger, and she socked his shoulder. “You’re damn straight you did. What the fuck were you thinking? Using constructs against a black magician?”

“Well, what’d you want me to do? Stand there like a jackass?” Hal retorted with a glare.

“Maybe you could’ve moved?” she met his glare head on. “You almost got yourself killed.”

“People die every day, (Y/N). I’m going to die one day.”

“And who would you leave behind if you did, huh? You’d leave behind your family and friends. You’d leave behind Guy and Kyle and John. You’d leave behind Barry. You’d leave me behind.” (Y/N) searched his eyes. “Don’t you know how heartbroken we’d be if you died, Hal? How devastated I’d be?”

Hal’s jaw went slack, and she shook her head. “This is just like you. Always flying headfirst into danger without a single regard for anyone else. You are so foolish and stupid and—”

He grabbed her chin and pulled her to him in a searing kiss. It was over as fast as it happened and when he pulled away, he smirked at the stunned expression on her face. “Oh? So that’s what it takes for you to quit yelling at me? Man, I should’ve done that a long time ago.”

(Y/N) blinked in shock, one hand coming to press against her lips. “What…what was that?”

“That was a kiss, (Y/N). You see when two people care about each other very much they—”

The meeting of a palm and a cheek echoed through the med bay, and he grabbed his face, gaping at her as she scrambled up.

“You don’t just kiss people, you ass!” (Y/N) shouted, though she looked more flustered than angry. “That’s—It’s not right!”

She spun and ran for the med bay doors, and he called out, “Wait! You didn’t tell me if you loved me!”

“Go to hell, Hal Jordan!” she shouted in return and Hal grinned wide and smug as he reclined on the pillows, eyes directing to the glass window, giving him the view of space.

That dream didn’t seem too far out of reach now.

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starlightrows · 3 years ago

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4 — The New King

The Queen of Tatooine Masterlist

← Previous - Next →

Pairing: Boba Fett x reader

Word Count: 2.8k

Warnings: Discussion of losing parents, mention of disordered eating, bed sharing

Summary: Saved from an untimely death by starvation and exposure, Boba offers you a place in his palace

*This chapter contains an Easter Egg for an upcoming series that severely deviates from canon*

When you wake up your head is throbbing and you feel sick to your stomach, you’re so hungry. But the one thing you don’t feel, is cold. In fact you’re actually quite warm and comfortable at the moment. You crack your eyes open and are confused to find yourself wrapped in a worn blue blanket, laying in what looks like a large storage closet with a mattress on the floor.

You peer out the open door and see you’re on a ship. How did this happen? Who’s ship is this? Suddenly your stomach growls loudly… you smell something… something good. It doesn’t matter who’s ship this is, you have to eat whatever it is that smells that good.

You clamber out of the sleeping closet and see Boba turning off a hot plate and sealing a bag that surely must contain dehydrated food. He turns when he hears you.

You stare at him, at the food. You’re confused and starving. Having no idea what to stay you just stand there.

He offers you a hand, a gesture to approach “It’s not the most flavorful or healthy dining option” he says “but it’s hot, and will be ready in just a few minutes”

You step closer cautiously and look up at his face “How did you find me?” You ask in an unsteady voice

“I went back to the inn and saw what happened to it. And the town. Followed the road, I figured you’d take the shorter path with water even though it would be uphill and colder” he explains, handing you the sealed bag and a long handled spoon. You open the bag and dig in, not even caring what it is. “Eat slowly Princess, you’ll make yourself sick”

He’s right. You’ve seen it before. Travelers who haven’t eaten in days… weeks even… come to the inn and eat a lot of food in a short period of time… they land up retching in the woods behind the inn. So you slow down and actually taste the food as you eat it.

You make it about half way through the meal before you feel a little sick. You don’t normally eat this much food to begin with. So you set aside the bag of food and let your stomach settle. Boba is eating from a similar bag of food. You study your current meal companion and apparent savior.

“Why did you come back? Why did you come after me?” You ask

“I told you I would” he says “I came back to extend you an invitation, to come to Tatooine”

“You want me to go to Tatooine with you?” You're surprised by that. Sure he’s said it the last time you’d met, but you didn’t think he’d meant it. Men who pass through little towns like yours generally don’t keep promises to return.

“You don’t have to by any means” he says “But the offer is on the table”

“I can’t exactly refuse, can I? My home and businesses are gone…” This is coming out all wrong. This man just saves your life and you’re treating him like he planned this all out “I’m sorry… that was rude and ungrateful”

“You are not wrong” he points out “Put it another way. As you have said, you can’t go back. So I’ll offer you a choice, Princess. Come with me to Tatooine, or tell me anywhere you’d like to go and I will take you there”

“You would really do that? Just ferry me anywhere in the galaxy or take me back with you to Tatooine? That is a kindness I can’t repay”

“You already have. You saved my life that night in the storm. And I did promise you I would come back for you”

“Why?” You ask in a whisper “why would you come all the way back here? You owe me nothing… even if I did let you come in that night”

“Because you made an impression, little one. I found myself thinking about the sweet innkeeper at the edge of the universe often. Even before you saved my life. I always planned on coming back for you, I only wish I had done so sooner”

You let his words sink in. I always planned on coming back for you. You can feel your heart beating in your chest and your cheeks flushing with heat. “I’ll go with you” you say softly “back to Tatooine… Let me work in the kitchens or something to be useful in your household”

“We can talk about that later” He chuckles. “I know it isn’t flavorful, but I want you to eat and get more rest. Replenish your strength”

Your stomach is full, given that you usually don’t eat heavily on a regular basis. But he’s right, you know you need to eat more. Not just right now to recover from hypothermic exposure, but in general. That’s always been a struggle for you. But you do try. The food is right there, and he has been kind enough to offer it you freely.

Boba returns to the cockpit to manually fly his ship, you force yourself to eat at least a few more bites of the rehydrated food he prepared for you. You take the blanket from the cot where you woke up with you, and climb up into the cockpit to sit with him.

He doesn’t turn when you slide into the seat next to him but he does when he notices you wrapping the blanket over your shoulders.

“Apologies Princess” he says “This ship was not built for comfort”

“It’s alright. Just a little cold” you run the edge of the blanket between your finger tips

“You won’t be cold when we reach Tatooine” he chuckles

“No, I suppose not. I’ve heard Tatooine’s binary suns make it so that nothing grows” you can’t imagine it. A world where nothing grows. You grew up in the greenery of a forested planet, at the base of a mountain with rich soil for growing vegetables.

“Tatooine is rather desolate” he admits “Most of the palace is actually built underground to keep cool”

“The palace” you muse “And how does being king suit you so far?”

“The Hutt’s left that place a mess. The palace and their business affairs. It’s all been a nightmare cleaning it up” he admits “My partner Fennec and I have only been able to clear out a few rooms, the business affairs take precedent”

The word partner pulls you up short. Your heart sinks. Partner… your mind immediately jumps to significant other. If that’s the case, then why is he inviting you into their space? Does this person know Boba has made this journey to see you? Do they know he’s bringing you back with him? Your mind races, and you feel a bit measure of panic setting in. What if this partner has no idea, and gets angry? What if this situation turns sour and you have to figure out somewhere else to go?

“You’re awfully quiet” Boba observes “Have I said something to offend you?”

You figure you may as well ask… better to know what you’re walking into rather than go in blind. “Your partner” you swallow the waver in your voice “What are they like?”

“She’s a former bounty hunter like me” he says

Oh no… now you’re really in trouble…

“Hmm… and she’s just fine with you flying off to the edge of the galaxy to visit an innkeeper?” you try not to make the question sound like an accusation.

He turns to look at you with the ghost of a smile on his lips “You misunderstand little one. Fennec is my business and hunting partner. She has no influence or opinion over my personal affairs”

Relief floods your heart, followed instantly by embarrassment. “Oh, that’s… that’s good I suppose. I just didn’t want… I didn’t mean… I just don’t want to cause problems”

“You’re not causing problems. I offered this to you, and to be honest I am glad you accepted,” he admits

That makes you feel better, a little more at ease. In that moment, you realize why you’d reacted so suddenly and severely in your mind. You like him.

You haven’t had many crushes in your life, not a ton of opportunity for it. When you were young there were a few other kids your age in the settlement, maybe one or two of them caught your interest, a few secret kisses in the barn or behind the one roomed school building, but it never lasted, and for good reason. The people who passed through your inn were never really the type you had interest in either. Until now…

Hours pass sitting in the cockpit next to him, chatting about your life in the settlement and his traveling on his own since the age of ten.

You don’t want to pry, but you do make a comment on it “Ten is quite young to be on your own”

“You said yourself you were young when your parents passed and left you with the inn” he points out

“Suppose loss like that makes a person independent” you sigh

“Would have been nice if we didn’t have to be independent so early in life” he said curtly

“I would have liked to have brothers or sisters” you say wistfully “At least things seemed to turn out well enough”

“I think if my father had lived longer, I would have had a younger sibling” Boba says “I think my mother wanted a another son or daughter”

“Your mother never found love again?” You ask sympathetically

“No idea, I haven’t seen her since the beginning of The Clone Wars” he says, starting the command sequence to drop out of hyperspace

Since the beginning of The Clone War… over thirty years ago… “That’s very sad” you say quietly

“It’s better this way. I don’t think she would be proud of some of the things I’ve done” he says “But maybe someday I’ll find out what happened to her” You take that as a queue to drop the subject.

The ship drops out of hyperspace, and Boba starts the landing approach sequence. Tatooine is a massive planet. Even from space you can see it’s yellow sand and rock formation topography. It’s a wonder how any species manages to live there, given the prominent lack of water or greenery.

As the ship flys down closer to the surface you find that the chill of space dissipates, and heat radiating off the planet's surface permeates through the reinforced walls of the ship. You shed the blanket that had been keeping you warm before even touching down.

The palace is massive. The biggest structure you’ve ever seen. Three cylindrical towers built into the cliffs overlooking The Great Dune Sea.

Boba engages the ground security protocols, and lowers the ramp and escorts you to the intimidating durasteel door. There are no guards, no one patrolling to prevent entry. Boba opens the door with no indication of announcing his entry. The entryway is a short sandy strip of a room leading to a descending staircase.

He offers his arm to you “Careful Princess, these shifting sands make these steps more slippery than you’d expect”

You accept his offer, and place your hand in the crook of his arm and start down the staircase. He’s not wrong, loose sand on stone is slippery and you are glad to have his arm for stability.

The staircase ends and leads into a large space clearly meant to entertain groups. The room is in disarray. It is clear, based on the drag marks and blood splatter in the sand, Bib Fortuna and whoever else of Jabba’s entourage remained died at the hands of Boba and his partner. Outcropping in the stone walls lined with low couches, pillows, tables and chairs. Many of which are broken or knocked over. A large grate in the center of the floor sits at the foot of an elevated platform. A throne.

Boba lets your arm go, freeing you to move about the space and explore. He ascends the shorter staircase to reach the throne and sits, quietly observing you. After a moment you turn to him, and take in his regality. He’s intimidating with his emotionless helmet and solid stanced posture. A king in every right.

You smile at him and give a small curtsy “My lord”

He chuckles behind his mask, so very contrary to the stoic picture he paints with his armored silhouette. “Come, allow me to show you the rest” He rises from his seat, and extends a hand for you to take.

He shows you down a hallway lined with doors, explaining they’re private rooms previously used for guests. “Most of them haven’t been cleaned in decades”

“You would think with all the credits the Hutt’s had, they’d pay for cleaning services” you shake your head

“Unfortunately I haven’t had the time to clear out many of the private quarters. Just the Master’s chambers and a single guest room Fennec uses” he tells you, turning down a hallway with an ornate door at the end. Clearly the Master’s chambers he was referring to.

The room is bigger than the footprint of your inn. High ceilings to let hot air rise, an en-suite fresher with a deep soaking tub, a massive bed is the only furniture left in the room. It’s beautiful despite not being decorated or well maintained. But you could imagine it was much worse if this is what Boba describes as “cleaned out”.

“If you are comfortable, I would like to invite you to stay with me in the Master’s chambers” he says from behind you “At least until a room can be cleared out for you, if you so choose”

You whip around to look at him. An offer to share a bed with a king. He must see the touch of fear in your eye because he quickly speaks again.

“I have no intention of asking favor of you. I only wish to make sure you’re comfortable here. You have my word.”

You soften at his promise, and give a silent nod before thinking better of his hospitality. “Thank you”

Later that day you finally meet Boba’s infamous partner, Fennec Shand. She’s got a sharp eye, quick wit and a taste for good spotchka. It’s an interesting tale to hear how they came to meet and land up in each other’s company.

As there are not yet staff or guards in Fett’s employ, dinner is some kind of hunted desert beast Fennec killed yesterday. It’s actually not too bad, but not like the game hunted on your homeworld.

“In time we will get this sorry excuse for a capital back up and running” Boba says when the meal is finished “Full staff and guard and reopen trade”

“I can help begin clearing out the palace” you offer “Make suitable accommodations for your staff and guard, and any allies that may come to stay”

Boba looks to you “You are not obligated to do so little one, but your help is appreciated”

“I enjoy having projects” you admit with a smile “Things to work on and keep me busy”

“Then you make take the task, for so long as you choose” he smiles at you.

Despite his haggard appearance, Boba has a nice smile. It softens him, brings out the light in his eyes. You find yourself returning the smile, and unable to wipe it from your face.

The evening comes to an end. Fennec excuses herself to return to her own bed chambers. Not without casting a sidelong glance between you and Boba, still chatting away. Eventually Boba leads you back to his own chambers. True to his word, he takes his robes into the fresher to allow you the privacy to change into borrowed sleeping clothing.

“I’ll buy you new clothes tomorrow” he promises, climbing into the oversized bed beside you.

Your impulse is to thank him politely and decline the offer, but given that you are his guest and no longer have property of any kind, it’s a kindness you have to accept.

“Thank you” your cheeks burn with heat, a little embarrassed to be needing so much from him at the moment. Borrowed clothing, a place in his palace and in his bed.

You get down under the blanket on the bed. Night time in the desert is quite cold, and sandstone walls that keep the palace cool during the day turn the air chilly when the binary suns set.

Boba turns towards you, laying on his side, he looks as if he wants to say something. Ask you something. But instead he just stares, with his dark soulful eyes and seemingly perfect hint of a smile

“Goodnight Princess”

Tag List: @cannedsoupsucks @otterly-fey @paige6768 @littledragonlady @star-hoes @aeryntheofficial @xx-small-town-witch-xx

#Boba Fett #boba fett x female reader #boba fett x reader #boba fett x f!reader #The Queen of Tatooine #QT

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bepp-ers · 4 years ago

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“Ok. So ive read fanfics and headcanons of yandere!Diavolo basically getting with MC to annoy or make Lucifer jealous. What if MC feels like Diavolo is doing this and try to say no whenever Dia tries to ask them out? Hes the the future king and rarely gets told no. I feel like he wouldnt accept MC's refusal.”

Yandere!Diavolo x MC. Thanks beautiful anon for requesting. And it ended up being gender neutral because it just did. Also ever so slight Barbatos x Reader too bc i errr simp-- Enjoy lovelies! <3

TW: Kidnapping, warnings of physical abuse, deceit, emotional manipulation, Diavolo being a bitch

“Are you afraid?”

You were seriously annoyed. Living in the Devildom, fun right?

Apparently not with the Prince around. Diavolo was nice, you supposed but very much arrogant.

So here you were, faced with yet another proposition.

“Look, Diavolo you’re nice but once again it’s got to be a no. Please understand that, I mean no disrespect.” You were a bit nervous, the way his eyes narrowed and his smug smile widened.

“Of course. But one day maybe you will give me a chance.” You forced a smile and turned to leave, wanting to return back to the house of lamentation.

“Oooh, MC you’re in a bad mood! What’s wrong?” As you walked into the kitchen to grab a drink, you heard Asmo quip at you.

“Nothing, nothing, I’m just tired...” You leant on the counter and sighed. “Come now, we both know it’s something more than that. You can tell me!”

“Fine, it’s Diavolo again.” “Eh? Again?” “Yep. He keeps asking me to be with him, and I’m almost certain it’s to make Lucifer jealous.”

Asmo tapped his chin in thought. “Hm, well that is a problem. I can’t help you, although you’re super lucky to have the future King after you. Maybe Lucifer can help?”

You blinked. “Hey that’s not a bad idea. Thanks Asmo!”

You hopped down from the counter and left, to hopefully find some help on the situation.

Knock knock!

“Enter.” You quietly stepped into Lucifer’s study, where he was doing goodness knows what.

“Ah, MC. Need something?” You sank into one of the chairs and sighed. “I need you to talk to Diavolo for me.”

The scratching of the pen stopped at once and Lucifer fixed you with a look. “Pardon?”

“I meant what I said. I have utmost respect for Diavolo, but at the moment he seems... He won’t take my ‘no’ for an answer in being his partner. And he won’t listen to me, so I was hoping you could talk to him?”

Lucifer paused for a moment, taking in the information.

“I see. So, you want me to discuss with Diavolo why you don’t wish to be his partner?” “Please.” “Very well. Next week’s student council meeting will--”

“I need you to do it as soon as you can.” Lucifer gave you a small smile. “MC, I appreciate the concern but I can assure you Diavolo means no harm. He is simply not used to being refused something.”

You stood up, and shook your head. “You don’t understand... Nevermind, it doesn’t matter.”

With that, you left.

After closing the door in annoyance, you groaned, heading back to your room. It was unfair! No one saw the urgency of the situation!

‘Who else can I talk to...? Lucifer will only talk to him next week, and I don’t think any of the brothers would want to talk to him...’

An idea popped into your head, and you grabbed your D.D.D.

Scrolling through your contacts you clicked on a fairly unused one.

Riiing... Riiing.... Click!

“MC. What a pleasant call.”

“Hey, Barbatos. Listen, I need to talk to you about something, but I’d prefer to do it in person.” “That is completely fine. Would you like to come over tomorrow?”

You sighed in some relief. “Yeah, yeah that’s brilliant. Thanks.” “It’s no problem. I’ll escort you, if you’d like.” “Mm, thanks Barbatos. See you tomorrow.”

You hung up and grinned. Why hadn’t you thought of that before? Barbatos could help for sure... right?

In the morning, at breakfast you informed the brothers of where you’d be going.

“So what are you doing today, MC? You could come with me to Devil’s Kitchen-” “Or you could come buy a matching outfit with me for Devilgram!” “Yeah, or they could stay in and play the new game with me? Only if they wanted, of course-!”

You chuckled at the brothers bickering. “Actually I’m going out today, so I can’t join any of you.”

“Oh? And where are you going?” “To spend some time with Barbatos actually.” “Huh?! Why are you hanging out with that butler?” “Mammon, jealousy isn’t a good look for you.”

“I just thought I would, because I don’t spend much time with him. He’s picking me up soon.” “Oh! Is MC going on a date?” “I very much doubt that, Asmo.”

You gave Asmo a side glare and stood up from the table. “I just want to talk to him, that’s all. I’ve gotta get ready, catch you later.”

“Alright, see you guys later! If I’m not back by this evening assume I’m dead. See you!” You stepped out of the building with Barbatos and he gave you that oh-so-polite smile of his.

“MC, you look nice. So what is you wished to discuss?” With one graceful flick of his hand, Barbatos had both of you transported to the Demon Lord’s castle.

It wasn’t the first place you’d wanted to go to, but if the time was spent with Barbatos on his own then it would be fine.

“Well, actually it’s about Diavolo- No, before you say I don’t want to talk to him about this. Believe me, I’ve tried.” You leant back into

Barbatos pursed his lips and glanced to the side. “I believe I know what this is about. Excuse my manners, I haven’t offered you anything. Some tea?”

“Oh, thanks.” He nodded courteously and stood up, leaving for a moment.

You glanced around, taking in the grand carvings in the gold ceilings, and how everything from the paintings to the threads of the cushion you were leaning on had some air of royalty to them.

“Here you are MC. I hope it is to your liking?” “Mm.” “Wonderful. Now, about your concerns. This is about My Lord’s... advances, isn’t it?”

You nodded, and sipped your cup of hot tea.

“No need to say anything, I completely understand. My Lord is a wonderful demon, he’s just new to this kind of thing. But I understand why you are uncomfortable, and I will talk to him about it, if you’d like?”

“You will?” “Of course, I’d be more than happy to oblige. MC, are you feeling well? You look a little pale.” He suddenly commented, and you noticed a strange feeling in your temple.

“Ah- now that you mention it, I feel kind of... tired... Wait- Barbatos what’s in this tea...?” You trailed off, your delicate cup clattering to the ground.

“I’m so sorry, MC. Out of all the futures I’ve seen, yours was one of the brightest until you came here... I truly am sorry.” Remorse welled in his teal eyes and you slipped forwards, sleep overtaking you.

Gloved hands caught you swiftly, but you didn’t know what happened after that. You could only imagine Barbatos carrying you to the grand room, removing your D.D.D from your possession and glacing wistfully back at you as he locked the door.

“Ahh, you’re finally awake! It’s so lovely to see your bright eyes again.” ‘That voice, it can’t be...’

Your worst fears had come true. Here you were, just woken up in the lap of the demon Prince himself. ‘Angels save me...’

“What... Diavolo..?” “Yours truly. How do you feel, darling? Terribly sorry about getting you here, Barbatos was rather reluctant about the whole plan but seeing the future is such a nifty trick, eh?”

You scrambled out of his loose grip and hunched up to the head board, golden like everything else in this fucking castle.

“You- he- He tricked me! Let me go, you can’t keep me here!” “I think you’ll find I can, being the future King and all. Come now, what’s with that expression?”

You glared at him, eyes fixated on sending a look of pure hatred. “You’re a monster. I told you I didn’t want you. You can’t just kidnap someone if they don’t requite your feelings!”

“Can’t I? You don’t seem to be correct, this time.” “You bastard!” You cried, and jumped off the bed, sprinting towards the door.

Of course it was locked, but that wouldn’t stop you from banging on it and screaming. “Barbatos, Barbatos please help me!”

“I’m afraid that won’t help you, MC. Barbatos is my servant after all, and a servant cannot disobey his master. As for you...”

You heard him stride across the room, and you turned to face him- only to wish you hadn’t.

“Are you afraid, MC?”

Diavolo’s usually wide smile had been replaced by a sinister grin, and he had changed into his demon form- a truly terrifying sight to behold.

“Not going to answer me? That’s okay, I don’t need you to.” You pressed yourself against the door, ready for some kind of agony, but it never came.

Instead, he picked you up and sat back on the bed, nestling you on his lap once more.

“I must say, it’s better when you don’t fight back.” You couldn’t move. You were genuinely paralysed.

All you could do was whatever he wanted, evidently.

“What... did you do to me...?!” “What an accusation, MC. I simply made the situation more enjoyable, wouldn’t you say?”

“The brothers will find me... The angels will find me too... You won’t get away with this..!” You hissed as he pressed gentle kisses to your neck, content.

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that. After all, they’ll be too sad to find that you left them, without even saying goodbye.”

“W-what?! I would never.... You cruel bastard!” Your eyes welled with tears, and he carefully wiped them away with his thumb.

“It’s okay, it’s okay. You have me, right darling?” “I don’t want you!” “We’ll have to work on that, but that’s okay... but that’s okay, if it’s for you!”

“Don’t... don’t touch me.” He sighed, pulling you closer to his chest and ran his hand through your hair.

“I suppose if you keep denying me, there will be consequences, but I’m sure you’ll be a good little human and keep quiet, right?”

haha this was long. and i may or may not be working on yandere! simeon and solomon right now so uhhhh shhh. i’m not a huge fan of Diavolo but the dynamic is fun. see you soon lovelies <3

-Bepp

#obey me #yandere obey me #yandere diavolo #yandere diavolo x reader #obey me x reader #yandere #bepp-ers

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deiliamedlini · 3 years ago

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WIP Wednesday

I’ve mostly been just writing the newest pirate chapter that I posted yesterday (subtle plug hahaha), but this was what I was working on just before. This is from the same fic as this WIP Wednesday. I don’t want to post this one yet because it still kind of sucks (like this, which is not edited at all), so I’m still fixing everything I have so far before actually posting. But today isn’t called Post a Fic Wednesday, it’s called WIP Wednesday, and this is a WIP!

Essentially, Link is tasked with training Zelda to defend herself after a series of Yiga attacks on her life. After some time, they’ve become good friends. She has him come to her room for lessons she doesn’t want ‘on the record’ basically, which is why Link is chilling in her room in this section. Totally not to make things unnecessarily dramatic.

~~~

When Link arrived that night, Zelda wasn’t in her room. He poked around for a moment just to make sure, and then relented to sit on her bed to wait for her, setting down his belt on the chest at the foot of her bed as he always did.

It was unusual that she wasn’t there. However, for the past several days, he’d been finding her waiting for him at the window, usually watching him scale the building with a look that betrayed her awe and her horror.

By her bedside were notebooks and tombs, all with marked pages. They ranged from geography, to biology. His hand reached out to take a book about plants, but he heard footsteps in the hall, followed by the booming voice of King Rhoam.

“Shit,” he muttered, looking around quickly before he slid into the closet just as Zelda’s door opened.

“—with the new treaty. I think that would be useful.”

“Yes,” Zelda agreed, softer than her father. “I think that would work, but we’d have to find a way to incorporate the Gerudo as well. Urbosa is instrumental, and I don’t believe we should keep her out.”

“That’s favoritism.”

“That’s being practical,” she challenged.

Rhoam chuckled. “You are learning well, Zelda. We will contact Urbosa immediately to inform her and see her position.”

“Thank you.”

“Well,” Rhoam said, “I’m going to head to bed now. Is there anything you need, or are you all set?”

“I’m fine; thank you.”

“It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” he said wistfully.

“Since the Yiga attack? Yes, quite a while.”

“I’m sorry I haven’t been as attentive.”

“No, but it’s really okay. I know the thought is there.”

There was the sound of rustling fabric that Link assumed was Rhoam hugging Zelda.

Then, “What’s that?”

Link peeked his head out to see what the king meant, and when he saw his belt still on Zelda’s trunk, he groaned as quietly as possible.

Zelda was fast, though. Her eyes darted around, looking for him, but she simply tsked, a lie springing to her lips far too easily. “It’s Link’s. He left it after we trained, and I didn’t feel like searching for him afterwards, so I just brought it back with me. I’m going to return it in the morning.”

“Ah,” Rhoam said, picking it up. “You should have gotten it back to him immediately. Looks like there’s some stuff he needs on here. I’m surprised he didn’t seek you out.”

Zelda swallowed and shrugged. “He’s diligent. Maybe he didn’t want to leave his post. Or he has spares. Or, most likely, he knew I’d just return it in the morning.”

“Hrmm, true.” Rhoam examined one of the daggers. “You should keep it in your wardrobe rather than laying around. What if someone did manage to get in here? A Yiga, or some other threat? Then you’ve just left a whole arsenal at the foot of your bed.”

“Then I’d just have weapons at my disposal to defend myself.” Zelda took it and made her way to her closet. “But I understand your point, father. You’re paranoid but—” Zelda yelped in surprise at the sight of Link innocently standing hidden in the closet, his head between two of her dresses.

“Zelda?” her father asked, hurriedly turning to her. “What is it?”

With a quick motion, Zelda pulled the dagger out just a bit and slid her thumb along it.

She turned to Rhoam with a light stream of blood moving down her wrist. “I cut myself. Don’t worry.” Handing Link his belt, as if she were hanging it up, she closed the door, giving him an exasperated look as she did.

Rhoam bit his lip nervously and handed her a nearby cloth. “Good thing you two haven’t covered blades yet. Make sure Link gives you all the safety protocols first. We don’t want that to happen on a larger scale.”

“Yes, father. I know.”

“Need any help with that, or are you all set?”

“I’m just going to wash it out. It’s fine, but thank you.”

“Okay then. Goodnight, Zelda. May the Goddess watch over your sleep.”

“Goodnight, father.”

Rhoam looked her over one more time before closing the door behind him with a tell-tale thud.

Zelda breathed out a sigh of relief. “You almost gave me a heart attack.”

Stepping out of the closet, Link grinned at her and tossed his belt right back onto the chest at the foot of her bed. “You were late.”

“I’m the Princess of Hyrule. I’m not late.”

“Terrible logic,” he said, snorting. But he grabbed a wash basin and brought it to her.

“Thanks.”

He watched her dip her hand into the water and flinch as it lapped over her wound. Resisting the urge to help her, he grabbed the top book from her pile instead.

“No, wait!” Zelda said, crossing the room quickly to try to snatch the book from him, hand dripping still.

“Plants and Horticulture of Hyrule Field.” He raised his eyebrow and flipped to her bookmark. “Are you planning to start a gard—oh!” A grin spread over his face as he read the words on the page. “Guardian technology? Hoarding your blasphemous texts, are we? Are you going to start tinkering with them again?”

“You know I’m not allowed to, so give it back!” Zelda burned red and grabbed his arm to try to pull at him, but with one hand, it was a losing fight. Still, she tried feebly, knowing he’d already seen it, so there wasn’t much reason to really fight anyway. It wasn’t as if he was going to rat her out either. She was simply at the mercy of his teasing for a few moments.

“How did you even get ahold of this?” he chuckled, turning the page at random as his eyes scanned over the words. “Isn’t half of this stuff forbidden to be this close to the castle?”

But they both answered at once, the obvious answer hitting him immediately as Zelda was ready to confess: “Purah.”

This time, Zelda just crossed her arms. “I wanted to… experiment. So, I have a fake cover on it in case someone nosey decides to grab the book! You know my father is paranoid.”

“I do know that.”

“It’s just harmless fun!” she said, still feeling the need to defend herself and her thick tomb. “I’m never allowed to have fun, especially with the books they make me read. I want to read about the blast radius the Guardians have while powered by a massive ancient core! And I want to know the components of a Sheikah slate, so, so badly. My father won’t let me do any of it. I just want to read something that isn’t so political!”

Link hummed and nodded. “That’s true. Those books are the worst. My favorite was, gods, what was it called? An Economic History of the Merchant’s Guild of Hyrule. That’s the one that only spit out rupee facts that you kept telling me, right?”

She blushed a bit more fiercely this time at the level of attention Link had paid her without her realizing, and she pushed him by the arm. “Okay, get out.”

He watched her turn redder by the minute and turned back to her to tap his fingers against the hardcover book tucked in her arms. “You know I’m not making fun of you, right? I think it’s admirable how much you prepare.”

Letting out a breath, she threw herself back onto the bed and slammed her book into her forehead with a groan.

Link chuckled and pried the book from her hands. “I’m serious. You’ll make a good queen.”

Her eyes suddenly darted up to his. She wasn’t sure she’d ever heard anyone tell her that, except maybe her father during her moments of absolute despair when he knew she needed to be cheered up.

Flipping the pages of the Guardian text, Link narrowed his eyes, flipped another page, glanced at her, and then flipped the page again. He waved the book in front of her face. “You wonder why the Goddess doesn’t like you; it’s because you write in your books. Ink is permanent you know.”

She ripped the book from his hand and hit him in the arm with it, doing her best not to let her laugh at his jab break through her angry façade. “I’m aware.”

Watching a drop of blood trail down her finger, Link reached out and cupped her hand in his just before the long trail dropped onto the page. “That’ll stain almost as much as ink. You should wrap that up.”

Zelda let him lead her back to the water, keeping the blood in his hand until they were safe. He dipped his hands in first and shook them out, noticing that there was only one rag.

“Thank you.”

“You really shouldn’t have done that, you know,” Link said, watching the water turn redder.

“I had to think fast, okay? Try ‘thank you for not letting me get caught in your closet, Zelda.’ If I can do it, so can you.”

“Fine. Thank you. I appreciate you covering for me, but you didn’t have to injure yourself to cause an appropriate distraction.”

“You’re so annoying,” she breathed. “End it at ‘thank you.’”

“Why do you put up with me?” Link laughed, handing her the rag.

She wrapped it around her finger, letting the wound clot. “Because.”

“Because--?”

“Because. Because I just do.”

“That makes no sense.”

“Fine. Because I think you’re amusing. Whether that’s a good thing or not is dependent on the situation.”

Link grinned softly, barely noticeable in anything but his eyes.

Zelda watched him, content in their mutual silence.

But even that had to end.

After her cut had stopped bleeding, Zelda pointed to the empty space in the room. “Okay. Get on the ground.”

“Demands, demands, Princess.”

#wip wednesday #legend of zelda #botw au #pre-calamity au #link #zelda #zelink #writing #I have an innuendo issue in this fic which includes the title. Oops

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nerdypanda3126 · 3 years ago

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Playing with Fire – Ch. 8

So two things: first, I did write a little interlude between last chapter and this one, and you can find it here.

And second, in the part with Luka's journal, he's in a dark place at that point in his life and there's some suicidal ideation in there. If you'd prefer to skip over it, you can jump over the italicized parts, and as far as I know that's the only time it'll pop up in this story 💖

Read on Ao3

First Chapter | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

“You want to find my family?” Luka asked incredulously as he held a branch aside for her to walk past.

He was tired, and so was she; they’d been walking all night, but Luka had insisted they needed to put as much distance as they could between them and the tower while they still had the cover of darkness. By the time the sunlight was able to filter down to them through the canopy, she suspected it was closer to mid-afternoon and they’d been up for a full twenty-four hours. He’d been stuck in his mostly-human form for the longest he’d ever had to endure it. Maybe not an ideal time to bring up her plan, but…

“We’re already running for our lives, we don’t have a home to go back to, at least not for a while, so… While we’re out wandering anyways, I thought…”

“We’d lead an angry mob straight to my mother and sister?”

She rolled her eyes at him. Definitely not the best time to bring up her plan. “You’re cranky when you’re tired,” she noted, letting her own irritation slip into her tone. He grunted back, but it was more of a challenge than an assent.

“Besides,” she pushed on, ignoring the way he bristled, “it might take a while to find them. How long do you think the townspeople will follow us, anyways? My guess is they get to the tower, see it’s empty, and turn around and go home.”

“I’m not worried about them,” he grumbled. “There’s a certain friend of yours who didn’t seem ready to give up anytime soon.”

If he had venom, he’d injected it into the word “friend.” She winced at his bitter tone.

“Okay, so what’s your plan? We wander the wilds aimlessly chasing our tails for the rest of our lives?”

He faltered and glanced over at her. The way he seemed so unsure made her realize he’d never had a plan. At least not past “stay alive and wait.” This was all new to him; he didn’t know what he was doing or where he was going. They’d traveled in as much of a straight line as was possible away from the tower, but other than that… he was lost.

She drew closer to him and threaded her arm through his as an apology. He laid a hand over hers as he took her meaning and sighed.

“Where would we even start?” he asked, his voice small in the quiet of the forest around them.

“There have to be other towns nearby, and I’m sure someone would remember seeing dragons flying around 18 years ago.”

“More townspeople…” he grumbled again. “Great.”

She squeezed his arm in sympathy and they walked in silence for a while. She could feel the weight of the plan starting to fall on his shoulders, the idea of asking around, relying on humans, how long it might take. In truth, she hadn’t realized the enormity of the undertaking until she’d proposed it to him and now she could agree that it sounded impossible.

“Maybe they’ve been waiting for you, too,” she dared to say.

He let out a quiet laugh. “Ma wouldn’t, her treasure is the open skies and she wouldn’t wait for anyone.” He paused to think, then sighed. “Juleka might, though.”

“Your sister?”

“Mhmm. We were close when we were young. Before…” His eyes slid over to her and he let it drop. “She might’ve followed Ma at first, but I’m sure she wasn’t happy with the decision to leave me behind.”

“What’s she look like?” Marinette asked, her curiosity overtaking her. He’d never talked about it before, but for once he seemed open to the topic. He smiled wistfully as he tried to remember.

“A lot like me, I guess. Except, you know…not...” He gestured to himself, to his human form. “Unless she made the same mistake, but I doubt Ma would’ve let that happen again. And she’s taller than me, or at least she was when we were little. Maybe it’s changed a bit, but she was always kind of a lanky thing. Ma’s pride and joy, though, if I’m honest. It’s her fire. Most dragons have some variant of red; it’s rare enough to get blue fire, but Jules…” He shook his head, that wistful smile growing as he remembered. “Jules had violet fire. Unheard of, really. You’ll see when you meet her, she’s—” He caught himself then as he realized what he’d said. “If, I guess,” he amended quietly.

She squeezed his arm again and smiled over at him. “When,” she agreed. “When I meet her.”

He half-shrugged, but his smile warmed when he looked over at her. Before she could stop it, she yawned loudly and he laughed as one took him over, too.

“First things first,” he said when it subsided, looking around at their surroundings. “We need to find a place to camp.”

***

Later that evening they found a cave.

Marinette had laughed a little at the prospect. Dragons, caves, towers, curses. Her life was sounding more and more like a fairytale turned inside out. Wasn’t there supposed to be a shining knight that rescued the damsel in distress from the terrible, fire-breathing dragon?

But she didn’t feel very “in distress” as Luka joined hands with her to remove his stone and sighed with relief when his transformation took hold. She didn’t feel very in distress as he blew a small ring of fire into the floor of the cave, patting it down as he went to create a smooth, warm, bowl-shaped indent for them to curl up in together. And the only distress she felt as she tucked herself into his coils was her racing heart and trembling hands as the kiss they'd shared came back to her. He blinked up at her, sensing her hesitation, and uncurled a bit as if he intended to stand.

She shook her head and laid her hand on his back, reassuring him, then took a moment to run her fingers over his scales, admiring them in their full splendor. Even though they were pitch black, they caught the bare light of the cave and glinted back at her like he was wearing a solid coat of jewels. They turned softer towards his belly, finer, more like the scales of a snake that she was used to as opposed to the armor he wore on top.

As she continued to touch him, he let out that noise again, a small satisfied hum, and laid his head over his claws as he closed his eyes.

His wings fascinated her. There was a solid joint of muscle on each side where they met his shoulders, as thick as both her fists put together, but the wings themselves seemed so fragile—she could see her hand through the delicate skin stretched thin between the bones. And yet they were able to hold not only his weight but hers, too.

She felt it when she hit that sensitive spot that had made him ticklish before. Something like a chuckle rumbled through him and his wing flinched away from her reflexively, but he didn’t pull it out of her hands. That spot was along the side of the bone she’d been tracing, the longer one that nestled into his side when they were furled. She did it again out of curiosity and a shiver ran through him.

She tried to remember what she’d read about dragon anatomy. But instead she was imagining how it must feel to him. Maybe something like if she were tracing the ridge of his shoulder blade when he was human.

When she looked back at him, his eyes were still closed, like he was pretending to be asleep. She knew better, though; his breathing was uneven. As much as he was trying to hide it, he was hyper focused on her every move.

She let her hand trail down his arm until she found one of his huge, rough hands. She picked it up despite his small grumble as his head shifted, and marveled at the largeness of it. The pad of what would be his palm was as big as her face, and the curved ebony claws reminded her so much of the hawks she’d seen in her life that she knew they were deadly. But his were each as long as her entire hand.

As she set his hand back down, he opened an eye to look at her. She watched the slit of his pupil as it dilated to capture as much light as it could in the gloom of the cave. And the fiery blue that surrounded it was the same as the tuft of hair along his neck and at the tip of his tail.

She should be frightened. Luka in this form was danger personified. Everything about him should have made her adrenaline spike. Should have made her want to run away or try to fight for her life.

But as he blinked at her again, probably trying to understand what she was thinking, all she saw was… Luka. The same soul who had promised her mother he would take care of her, who had offered his life to her, who had saved her when she was too small to even know to be afraid.

No wonder she’d still had dreams of sleeping curled up next to him. When she looked at him, at all of him, all she saw was safety and home. And as he tucked his wing around her like a blanket, she couldn’t imagine a safer place than right next to him.

***

She grumbled awake when the light hit her eyes the next morning. She’d have to talk to him about getting curtains or something to cover that damn opening while they slept. She curled away from it, trying to press her face into Luka’s scales, but her nose was hitting something warm, and breathing, and...smoother than she expected.

Her eyes flew open as she realized her lips had touched skin.

It was later than normal and they’d already switched. Luka was human beside her. His arm was draped around her waist, she was curled up against his chest, and she had just nuzzled into his neck and brushed her lips against the hollow of his throat. She froze, but he was still solidly out, snoring lightly every so often, his arm a heavy weight around her.

The night before rushed back to her. Fleeing the tower, their long walk, the cave they’d settled into for the night… and Luka. His dark hair was falling over his eyes, and those dark circles had returned after only one night of missed sleep. His lips were parted slightly as he breathed and he looked so peaceful she almost wanted to reach out and touch him if only to make sure he was real.

But she didn’t want to wake him. So as carefully as she could she extracted herself from his embrace and stood to stretch, realizing that all their walking from the past few days had caught up to her. Before she did anything else, she retrieved his stone from where he’d left it and slipped it around his neck so her flames didn’t attract any attention. Or worse, set anything in their temporary shelter aflame.

They’d need to find food and water, but exploring their new area would have to wait until Luka woke up. For now she settled on taking inventory of what they’d brought with them, munching on a piece of bread from her parents’ bakery as she did. She froze when his lyre fell out, making an awful twang against the cave floor, but Luka only muttered in his sleep and rolled over.

When she continued searching through the bags, her fingers caught on the leather of his journal. Another glance at Luka proved that he wouldn’t be awake for a while yet; losing sleep as they traveled had hit him harder than her. She walked as close to the entrance of their cave as she dared and sat in the light to read.

The first few pages were mostly unintelligible. Scribbles and squiggles as Luka struggled with the quill and ink. Then came pages of the alphabet, unsteady at first, and traced over what must’ve been Jagged’s handwriting. The letters got stronger, more confident, and then on the next page, his first written word. Just his name, but she could almost see the pride he must’ve felt in accomplishing that one word. It stood alone on the page. She imagined a young Luka running out to show Jagged his hard work, beaming with the joy of learning a new skill.

Then other words started to fill the pages. Jagged Stone, fire, bond, wings, rabbit, trap, tower. Naming things around him, sometimes with little drawings that accompanied the word.

But then she saw the word “bakery.” Her breath caught. That wasn’t a word that Luka would be familiar with unless…

Underneath that was a sentence. “My bonded lives in a bakery.”

And as the pages went, she found more little tidbits about her life interspersed between Luka’s practicing. “My bonded has blue eyes.” “My bonded has black hair.” “My bonded likes the color pink.” “My bonded likes flowers.”

It seemed he’d tried to learn as much about her as he could, but either Jagged never told him her name or Luka never asked because every one of them started with “my bonded.” She wondered if he did it on purpose. It seemed like something he would do. Waiting not only to meet her but to hear her name.

He’d filled the next page, and it looked like a letter. Addressed to her. She glanced back at him, but he was turned away from her and she couldn’t see his face. She remembered how he’d stiffened when she asked if she could read it before he’d brushed it off as nothing. But he did say she could read it…

So she did.

***

To My Bonded,

You probably won’t ever get the chance to read this. I’m not sure why I’m even writing it other than I guess if the worst happens maybe there will be a small piece left of me that I can hope you would come to know.

From what I know of you, I think you might be someone who would listen.

Firstly, I don’t blame you if you’re angry with me. It probably hasn’t been easy on your end and I don’t know how much you’ve been told about our situation. Which is the worse curse, I wonder, knowing everything and waiting to see how it unfolds or knowing nothing and having to make a decision. Either way, I guess it’s really my fault anyways.

As for the second thing. I don’t know that I’ll have the chance to show you so I want you to know. I do care for you. Deeply. Sometimes that scares me because I don’t even know your name. The only thing I remember is seeing your eyes that day I rescued you. When they opened, when I knew you were okay, I was so relieved that I hardly even noticed your eyes were blue until Jagged reminded me years later. But they are, aren’t they? I wonder if they were like that before, or if maybe that’s another part of me that stayed with you.

I’m both dreading and hoping for the day I get to see those eyes again. Maybe when that day comes I can explain myself and apologize and tell you all this in person. Until then.

Yours, Luka

---

Bonded,

I didn’t think I’d write to you again. But Jagged told me today you had a ‘crush’ on someone in your village. A taylers boy, although I don’t know what that means. He told me about the fire too. He didn’t really have to. I felt it. I felt how your heart hurt and I wanted to go to you. Maybe I should have. I was afraid.

Jagged said you were fine, that you would be fine. But next time I feel that, I’m coming to you. Scared or not.

Yours, Luka

---

Bonded,

I am sick of this place. I’m sick of this tower and sick of the waiting and sick of feeling like I’ll be stuck like this forever. I thought you’d come for me. Aren’t you curious about me? Don’t you know by now what’s happening, why I’m still here, that I’m waiting for you? Or maybe you’re staying away because you know. Maybe you want it to be this way, maybe this is your choice.

I don’t mean that. If you knew I’m sure you’d be here already. I guess I wish I knew how much longer it’s going to be like this. How much longer I’ll be waiting for you.

Yours, Luka

---

Dear Bonded,

I keep writing to you for some strange reason. It’s a sort of comfort, knowing that you’ll probably kill me before you get to read any of this. I’m sure that’s your answer now because your village has started sending men to kill me instead. They come up from your village anyway.

It’s okay. I get it. You’re probably scared of me. The rest of them have been so I can only assume you think the same. I haven’t let them win yet. For now there’s still a small part of me that hopes you don’t know anything about this. That it has nothing to do with you. For now anyways.

Yours, Luka

---

Bonded,

I hate the taste of blood.

Yours, Luka

---

Dearest Bonded,

This is my last letter to you. I can’t keep doing this. The men keep coming. I’ve tried everything to get them to leave me alone, but nothing seems to work. And I’m tired. I know you’re probably not coming. You won’t come. Even if you did, you’d be here to kill me. And I had every intention of giving you that choice, but I’ve made my decision. The next time those men come I’m not fighting anymore.

If you do find this. If you do come for me. I’m sorry. I’ve loved you with every breath.

Yours, Luka

---

Dearest Bonded,

I’m a coward. Or a fool in love. Either way, I’m still here. I have to have faith in you.

Yours, Luka

***

She jumped when a hand landed on her shoulder. Luka laughed as he sat down behind her, wrapping his arm around her waist to press his chest against her back and lay his head on top of hers.

“Dramatic, wasn’t I?” he asked, still chuckling. As much as she could she swatted at his hand with the journal.

“You scared me! You shouldn’t come up behind someone like that!”

“We’re the only ones here, who else did you think it was?”

Damn him, she could hear his satisfied smirk in his voice. She swatted him again for good measure, even as he pressed a kiss to her hair, but his last two letters were still sharp in her mind.

“Why’d you stop writing?” she asked, flipping through the many blank pages that were left. She felt him shrug behind her.

“I didn’t see much point to it, really. Either you’d come and we’d live happily ever after and I could tell you everything myself or… not. And it wasn’t like I ever expected you to want to read it if things went badly.”

“How long after this…” she started, but she lost her voice halfway through. She had to swallow hard past the lump that was forming to find it again. “How much longer did you have to wait for me?”

He was quiet for a moment and he rubbed his hands up and down her arms, probably trying to soften the blow.

“It doesn’t matter,” he said softly.

“It does to me. Luka, if I’d known any of this—why didn’t you let Jagged tell me?”

He let out another of those soft laughs behind her and his breath ghosted across her neck. “He wanted to. We fought about it a lot. But I figured that would only make you feel… obligated.”

She thought about that while she stared at his last entry. Of course it was impossible to think what she might’ve done, or how she might’ve felt because she only knew what had happened. The series of events that led her to him. The nightmares and the flames and thinking she was a curse to her family and her village. And up at the tower Luka was dealing with his own nightmare. He’d almost given up hope and when she did come to the tower she’d almost proved him right.

His arms tightened around her as if he could sense where her thoughts had gone. As if to prove he was okay and it turned out alright. She pressed back against him and could feel his heartbeat thudding steadily through her own chest. Maybe he was right. Maybe it didn’t matter. They were together now. That’s what she’d told him. To stop blaming himself for what happened. She didn't blame him for anything and at the very least he'd already forgiven her, too.

She turned in his arms and slid her hand behind his neck to pull his face down to hers. As she pressed her lips to his, it felt like a promise. A promise that he’d never have to be apart from her like that again, bond or not.

He melted against her and for a moment they were both lost in each other, in the knowledge that in this moment they were safe and together and that was all that mattered.

#miraculous ladybug #ml fic #mlb fic #lukanette #Pro LukaMari #lukanette endgame #endgame lukanette #marinette dupain cheng #luka couffaine #dragon!luka #LBSC Exchange 2021 #fic title: playing with fire

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mistymazzello · 4 years ago

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Illicit Affairs | chapter 4

Joe Mazzello x Reader

summary-Y/N, a failing actress in New York City, is offered an internship as Joe Mazzello’s assistant on the set of a movie. Her seemingly small crush on her boss could get her into trouble, but what does she have to lose?

word count- 6.1k (i got a little carried away)

warnings- smut, unprotected sex, all that stuff. (by reading on you’re confirming that you’re 18+😳)

a/n- i promise this last week and i’m just now posting it and i’m SO SORRY. pls let me know what you think!

based on illicit affairs by taylor swift

September turned over to October, bringing cold weather and days that slowly became shorter. You were done trying to stop your feelings for Joe, there was no stopping how you tirelessly obsessed over him. It made it worse that it almost, almost felt like he was reciprocating. But still, not quite.

Joe finally started lightening up on scheduling, giving everyone a few days off every now and then and not having extremely early call times. This meant you weren’t leaving the apartment at 6 in the morning and coming back at 8 anymore, leaving time for you to be around your roommates. Now, did you want that time? Not exactly.

Cameron had hardly spoken two words to you since everything that happened the previous month, leaving an awkward tension always hanging around the apartment. One morning, the sky completely gray, leaving the city shakingly cold, Cameron walked into the kitchen while you stood on the phone as you poured coffee.

You were talking to Julia, who had called you to ask if you had any time to do some of her busy work for her, which you weren’t necessarily sure if you did, but you agreed to anyway. The phone call ended with her making some Fleetwood Mac reference that you didn’t understand, but you laughed either way. You hung up and set your phone down as you slowly stirred your coffee, Cameron sitting on a stool on the other side of the counter.

“Was that the director?” She asked softly.

You looked up, slightly stunned. “Um, no. Producer.” You answered.

She furrowed her eyebrows. “What does he want?”

“She just has some things that she needs me to do today.” You said. It was weird that she all of the sudden was trying to talk to you.

“So you like working on the movie then?” She asked.

You blinked. Was she trying to actually talk to you? “Yeah, I love it. I think it’s great.”

She nodded. “You think the movie’s gonna be good?”

You could’ve smiled. This was the first conversation the two of you had in weeks. You had to admit, you missed your best friend. “Yeah, actually it looks really good. I’m excited for it.”

You pulled another mug from the cupboard and poured the rest of the coffee you had made into it, sliding it across the counter to her. She accepted it, picking it up to wrap her hands around it.

“I’m sorry that I got so mad.” She said, looking into her mug. It was a little late for an apology, but still, you accepted.

“It’s okay. You were upset.” You shrugged.

She nodded and took a long sip from her coffee, still never looking up to meet your eyes.

“So can we stop being weird now? I miss how things were.” You said, setting your own mug on the counter.

She laughed slightly. “Yes. I was hoping we could stop doing this.” She smiled.

You sighed in relief and finally, things were normal. How they were supposed to be. Things felt more in place than ever as you went to set that day. Today was supposedly going to be very easy, but you had a sneaking suspicion that you were going to be there rather late.

Just as you had suspected, before you knew it, the sky was turning dark. Joe finally called it a day at 8, much to everyone’s relief.

“Go get some sleep, kid.” He hit the back of your head with his clipboard playfully.

“First off, ow.” You laughed, holding your hand to the back of your head.

“Have a good night, Mr. Mazzello.” Beck spoke as he pulled his jacket on.

“You too, Mr. Beck.” He saluted him.

A loud sigh escaped your lips as you wistfully watched him walk away. Why did he have to be so nice to you?

Something you had noticed was how close this cast and crew was. You weren’t as involved in that closeness as you would have liked to be, but you figured it was because you were much younger than all of them, and you were just about at the bottom of the food chain in terms of power.

You saw a few cast members congregating near Joe, so you decided that you weren't going to interrupt to tell Joe goodbye, you figured you could just text him something about heading out instead.

A little ways away from you, Joe saw you waving bye to a few people and his heart sunk. Before thinking, he cut off one of the actors who was talking. “Hey, do you care if I invite Y/N?”

A few people turned around to look in your direction, luckily you had your back turned to them.

“The intern?” One of them asked.

Joe quickly realized how desperate he must have sounded asking like that. “Yeah,” He said, shrugging, “She’s nice, I think you guys would like her.”

He wasn’t lying about that. He knew everyone would like you, and you were nice. But he wanted to invite you because he desperately wanted to spend more time around you, specifically outside of work.

They all agreed, and the conversation moved forward about the bar that they were going to that night. Joe excused himself and jogged over to you, right as you were about to leave.

You saw him coming out of the corner of your eye and you turned in his direction, smiling. “Hey, I was just about to go.”

Disregarding what you said, he asked, “Me and a few people from the cast are going out for drinks, do you wanna come?”

“Tonight?” You responded, a bit taken back. You were a little too excited to be receiving this offer, but you tried your hardest to conceal the smile that was already on your face.

“Yeah.” He said, “I think we’re just gonna uber there in like 20 minutes.”

You weren’t used to receiving invitations like this, especially since you left college. “Oh.” You said, trying not to sound like a complete spaz.

“So if you wanna stick around, I can tell you when we’re leaving?” He said, his hands in his pockets as he rocked onto his toes.

“Yeah, sure.” You smiled, wringing your hands together.

He nodded and looked at the ground. He could hardly believe the way he was acting right now, it reminded him of high school. He was acting like a complete idiot, all because of you. All because of that stupid smile on your face.

“Oh,” he remembered, “and don’t tell Beck. He’s not invited.” He winked before walking away. He really shouldn’t be picking favorites like this, but how could he help it when one of you was a stuck up asshole and the other one was as sweet as you were?

Regardless, you were glad he liked you. It gave you some sort of validation for your feelings, even though deep down, you knew that your crush on him was hopeless.

When you showed up to the bar, it was freezing outside, yet incredibly warm inside. By the time you were shedding your jacket, which was only seconds after sitting down, Joe had ordered shots for everyone, saying that you had to take them in honor of the 12 hour day you had just worked. There were about 11 or 12 of you, spread out between a few booths. The bar wasn’t terribly busy, taken that it was a Wednesday night, but still, this was New York City, so places were always bustling. You were sat by Julia and a few of the other girls, subconsciously clinging to Julias presence like she was your mom. You got talking with a few of them, all of them remarkably talkative. The girl across from you, Charlotte, who was probably the closest to your age out of everyone, began talking to you about the internship.

After you explained the whole situation about how you got the internship, conveniently leaving out the part about Cameron, you were about to ask her about how she had got casted, but she spoke first. “You know, everyone loves you. No offense if he’s your friend, but I think I speak for everyone when I say we prefer you over Beck.”

“Oh, god, he’s not my friend.” You laughed. “He hates me.”

“Oh my god,” Her eyes lit up “He hates me too! I’m always like, dude, you need to calm the fuck down.” She said, picking up her drink to take a sip.

“Me too! He always says I’m unprofessional.” You frowned.

“I think he has some personal issues he needs to sort out.” She said.

“Mommy issues.” Julia piped up before finishing off her glass.

The three of you laughed, the attention shifting swiftly over to the girl sitting next to Charlotte, Lola, who was whispering something in her ear.

“Oh, god, Lola, don’t be gross.” She groaned.

Lola pulled away and grabbed her drink off the table then looked back at Charlotte. “Wish me luck.” She smiled.

You tilted your head slightly as she stood up from the table, walking slowly over to the bar. Wondering what she needed luck for, you tried not to stare as she approached the bar. You didn’t pay any mind to Joe, who was standing next to her, until she began to talk to him.

Your face flushed as you realized what she was doing. She was trying to flirt with Joe. It wasn’t until you looked back at the table until you realized that Charlotte and Julia were both looking at her, too.

Julia looked back and you exchanged a glance. “Is she...?”

“Trying to sleep with Joe? Yes.” Charlotte said, looking slightly disgusted.

You didn’t say anything as you looked into your drink, swirling the glass around as you contemplated your defeat. She was at least 7 or 8 years older than you, much closer to Joe’s age, an established actress, and much more in his league. All at once, you began to realize how stupid you were for ever thinking you and Joe had something between you.

“She could get into big trouble for that.” Julia chided. “It’s in the contract that all of you signed. No relationships.”

“Does fucking count as a relationship?” Charlotte set her chin in her palm.

Julia chuckled. “No, I guess not, if it’s not ongoing.”

“Ah, then she has a chance.” Charlotte said, all three of you turning your attention back to the two of them.

Over at the bar, Joe's mind was scrambling. He wasn’t stupid, he knew what Lola was doing. He’d seen it a million times. He wanted to be nice, but he wanted to cut this off before it went any further and he had to reject her. He had been waiting for the right moment to approach you without making it seem like he was hitting on you. He genuinely just wanted to talk to you.

But, as the minutes passed, Lola was not taking any hints. She continued to talk, continued to touch his arm playfully, even though Joe was reciprocating none of it.

Julia ended up leaving within the next 30 minutes, saying something about how her partying days were far behind her. You and Charlotte stayed at the table, ordering drink after drink, giggling as you talked about your past relationships, it almost made you forget about what was going on across the room.

“I have you beat on the worst breakup.” She laughed. “A guy once broke up with me after I flew across the country to see him. On my birthday.”

You gasped dramatically. “No.”

“Yes.” She laughed. “Arguably the worst day of my life.”

The two of you sat, giggly and tipsy, for a few quiet moments. “Why didn’t I know you were so fun?” She asked “I feel like we’ve hardly ever talked before and we’re around each other everyday.”

You sighed. “I don’t know. I just feel like a bit of an outsider because I’m so much younger than everyone.” You opened up. If you didn’t have any alcohol in your system, you would have never said this to her.

“Aw,” She frowned “Like I said, Y/N, we all love you. Everyone always mentions how sweet you are.”

“Really?” You smiled.

‘Yes, really. Especially Joe. He never shuts up about you.” She said.

You looked into her dark eyes and tilted your head. “What? Really?” Your heart could’ve jumped out of your chest.

“Yeah, he’s always like ‘Oh, I’m gonna wait up for Y/N. Have you seen Y/N yet today? Y/N this, Y/N that” She imitated him, her hands waving around as she did a horrible impression of his voice.

You laughed a little, your smile never faltered. Was she telling the truth? Did he talk about you so much that she had noticed it?

You finally remembered the whole Lola thing, your eyes glancing over the bar. Now they were sitting down, she was leaning over to him, talking, as he took a drink. You sighed and looked back at Charlotte, who was downing the rest of her third or fourth drink.

“I should probably go pull her off of him.” She sighed, her eyes following yours over to the bar. “She’s drunk as fuck, she needs to go home and maybe try again when she’s not wasted.”

She gave you a pat on the head, making you smile, as she stood up. “I’ll see you on Saturday.” She said, giving your head one last pat before walking over to the bar. You watched as she came up behind Lola, resting her hand on her back and giving her a soft smile as she spoke to her. It was obvious that Lola was resisting, but Charlotte was persistent, and she eventually hopped off of her chair and followed her. The two of them waved to you as they walked out of the bar, you gave them a quick grin and waved back. You almost sighed in relief. You had finally made some friends.

Joe was now sitting by himself at the bar, and you alone at the table. As long as you didn’t try anything like Lola did, you didn’t think it would be weird if you went and sat by him. Maybe that was the alcohol talking, but you still got up and walked over to him, pulling the stool out to sit down next to him.

When he had originally heard the stool next to him move, he thought it was just another girl trying to talk to him, and he almost let out an exasperated sigh. But it wasn’t just another girl. It was you. Instead, he sighed in relief.

“Hey, kid.” He said, taking a drink from his beer.

“Hi.” You said, scooting the chair in.

“You have fun?” He asked, setting his beer down to turn to you.

“Mhm.” You nodded. “Charlotte’s so nice.”

“Good.” He gave you a closed mouth smile. “I’m glad.”

You realized that you had left your drink back at the table when you all of the sudden had nothing to do with your hands. Joe must have noticed at the same time, because just as you were about to order something, he beat you to it.

“Can we get two shots of fireball?” He asked.

“Oh god.” You set your face in your palm.

“Don’t worry, you don’t have to drink it.” He said.

“What, you’re going to take both to try and impress me?” You giggled, setting your forearms on the counter.

He shook his head with a small laugh as the bartender handed them over. He set one in front of you and one in front of him.

“Okay.” He started. “Truth or drink.”

“Oh,” You smiled “I can do that.”

“Ladies first.” He smirked, crossing his arms as he looked at you. It almost felt like he was taunting you, his arms almost making you drool as they stretched out his shirt.

You smirked back. Only thinking for a quick moment, you knew what you wanted to ask. “When’s the last time you slept with someone?” You asked, a cocky look on your face. Even if you were crossing a line by asking that, you could hardly care. It felt hotter than it did when you had first gotten there, but that could be coming from the warm feeling in your cheeks from the alcohol. Or because you were blushing. He wasn’t going to answer something like that to you.

He tilted his head slightly, looking at the shot. “Last month?” He estimated. You were a little bit shocked that he answered, and that he didn’t hesitate to do so.

Your eyebrows must have been raised or your eyes must have been wide, because he asked, “What? Did you think I was gonna say 3 years ago?”

“What? No,” You laughed “I just… who?” You asked, almost out of instinct. Almost out of jealousy.

“Nope. Not your turn.” He shook his head. He leaned closer to you, prompting you to lean closer to him. “If you had to have sex with one guy in this bar, right now, who would it be?” He said, his voice low, even though no one around would be able to hear anyways over the buzz of the crowd.

You hummed in thought, turning away from him to look around you. “I think…” You started, turning back to lean forward into him “the bartender down at the other end is cute enough?” You lied.

Joe’s jaw clenched. He didn’t know what he expected, but he couldn’t help but be disappointed. Before he could respond, you cleared your throat, unbeknownst to him that you had noticed his reaction.

“My turn.” You smiled. You went back and forth for a little while longer, desperately trying to ask a question to get the other person to drink, but nothing worked. The bar was loud, there were lots of people around, but still, you could only see each other. You could only feel the way his shoulder was rubbing against yours, you could only smell the whiskey on his breath and you could only think about how much you wanted him right now.

A few rounds later, it was Joe’s turn. He could feel the heat radiating from your face, and he thought your top was ridiculously low cut. Especially when you leaned over the bar. The way your knee would bump his was driving him crazy. It prompted him to come up with this question.

“What’s the oldest you’d be willing to sleep with?” He said, his expression straight and serious.

You reached to rub the back of your neck under your hair as you thought. Your heart began to quicken as you thought of all of the possible responses, until you finally settled on what happened to be one of the most risky answers. “Well,” You began, subconsciously leaning in so you were closer to his face, “How old are you?”

His jaw clenched again, but this time, not out of anger or jealousy. Out of lust and pent up desire. “Oh,” He said, his hand which was already brushing your knee moved from his leg to ghost over the top of yours. “Is that how it is?” His hand came to rest on your thigh, and he slid it so it was just slightly underneath your skirt on the inside of your thigh.

“Joe,” You breathed, closing your eyes as you clenched your thighs, trapping his fingertips.

“Yes?” He spoke softly into your ear, his voice low and sharp.

“Please.” You pouted, still not opening your eyes. His hand was warm on your inner thigh, but not as hot as the heat radiating from under your panties, which you thought Joe could for sure feel.

Just like that, he ripped his hand away from you, earning a whine from your lips as you leaned your head back. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet, your eyes watched his hands intently. He pulled out a 50 and tossed it onto the bar, then stood up. He grabbed your wrist and pulled you off your chair. “Let’s go.” He grumbled, lightening his grip on your wrist to let his hand slide into yours. He practically pulled you out of the bar, and even though it was a cool fall night outside, you were still burning up.

He hailed a cab quickly as your head spun by how quickly things had turned. Even though both of you were as horny as you had ever been before, he still opened the taxi door for you. You climbed in, settling in the seat on the opposite side of the door before Joe climbed in, telling the driver his address quickly before moving to the middle seat to immediately grab your inner thigh roughly. Your hand wrapped around his bicep, you squeezed his arm to try and distract yourself from the wetness pooling in your underwear. His grip was deathly and his breathing was harsh as the two of you sat in heated silence. You had to physically try to stop yourself from making any further moves on him, opting to rest your forehead on his shoulder. In a moment of sweetness rather than lust, Joe kissed the top of your head lighty. Although the moment did make your heart melt, you still couldn’t focus on anything other than how badly you needed him.

“How far are we from your apartment?” You lifted your head up to whisper.

“Like 2 minutes.” He said. You let out a low, short groan.

“I know, baby.” He whispered.

You had decided that this had been the longest two minutes of your life. Between the way Joe’s legs kept twitching, to how his hand was slowly moving up your thigh, riding your skirt up, you were almost on the verge of tears by the time you pulled up to Joe’s apartment. He handed the driver some money, mumbling something about keeping the change as the two of you climbed out.

He grabbed your hand and you both tried not to sprint into the apartment building. The elevator ride was almost as excruciating as the taxi. You couldn’t keep your hands off of each other, his hand moving from the small of your back to squeeze your ass, earning a sharp breath in from you.

He fumbled with the key as he tried to unlock his door as quickly as possible. As if you could get anymore impatient, you were 2 seconds away from ripping the key out of his hands and doing it yourself when he finally opened the door, grabbing you by the fabric of your shirt and pulling you inside. It was pitch black, the only light coming from the city lights outside the windows. Using the grip he had on your shirt to turn you towards him, he pulled you into him. He kissed you messily, slowly backing you up until your back hit the door. It was a mess of clashing teeth and tongue as you desperately kissed each other, all of the pent up desire coming out all at once. You wrapped your arms around his neck as you stood on your toes to kiss him, his hands moving from your hips to your ass. He slid one of his hands down to the underside of your thigh, lifting your leg up so your knee was at his side. He growled into your mouth and you could only manage a whimper, your mind scrambling for a single coherent thought. He lifted his leg slightly to rub against your core, his jeans creating a rough texture. Instinctually, you grinded against his thigh, but your movements were limited as he had you pinned against the door.

He broke away, moving his lips to bite your earlobe. You let out an exhausted moan, dipping your head back to hit the wooden door behind you. He lifted his leg higher at this, almost lifting you off your feet by your core.

“Joe” You sobbed, your fingers pulling at his hair. You felt him smile against your neck.

He moved his head back up to kiss you again, this time his hands on both sides of your face. This kiss was slower, but just as passionate. He pulled you to the bedroom, not bothering to turn on any lights on his way there, opting to find his way in the dark. You already noticed that he had a habit of pulling you by the fabric of your shirt. Something you could definitely get used to.

Once you did make it to the bedroom, he wasted no time pushing you backwards onto the bed. Your back bounced against the mattress and you sat up on your elbows as he crawled on top of you, meeting your lips again. He grabbed both of your hands and held them for a second, then slowly moved them so they were pinned above your head. His grip wasn’t tight, but it was enough to keep you in place.

He pulled away to hover inches above your face, both of you panting. “I’m gonna ask you this, and I’m only going to ask you this once.” He said darkly, his voice overcome by lust.

You nodded eagerly, yet still staying silent.

“Do you want me to fuck you?” He asked deeply.

You nearly moaned at the tone of his voice.

“Need to hear you say it, baby.” He growled.

“Yes” You cried, begging him to do something.

That must have been a tipping point for him, because he let go of your wrists and tugged at the hem of your skirt, pulling it along with your underwear down and off of your legs. He tossed them to the ground and grabbed you by both of your thighs, lowering himself so his head was in between them.

He groaned as he looked at you, his grip slightly lightening as he admired how wet you already were. He placed a kiss to your lower thigh, looking back up at you. You were splayed out on his bed, your hair hanging in your face, your chest heaving. A sight he could get used to.

From there, he wasted no time diving in between your legs, licking your clit as he wrapped his arms tightly around your thighs, moving your legs so they were over his shoulders.

Your head was spinning as you slammed it back against a pillow on the unmade bed. You were hardly processing what was going on, your vision was blurry and your thoughts all bled together, the only thing you could feel was Joe.

You writhed underneath his touch, bucking your hips. His large hands laid over your stomach, holding you down. “Sit still.” He mumbled against you, the rumble of his voice pulsing through your entire body. You tried to still your hips, unable to stop them from twitching from pleasure.

His fingertips dug into your thighs as he began holding you tighter and tighter. He only ever touched your clit, only using his tongue, but it was more than enough for you. One of your hands was tangled in his hair, and the other was holding onto the pillow under your head. In the distance, but still at an embarrassingly fast rate, you could feel your orgasm coming on.

He must have sensed that you were close, or took a hint from the way you swirled your hips and pulled at his hair, because he smirked against you, then immediately pulled his head away.

“Joe” You whined, your grip on his hair loosening quickly.

He shook his head lightly, climbing back on top of you. He put his hands on either side of your head, and admired you under him for a second, even though you looked slightly disappointed. He leaned down to kiss you slowly, taking the feeling in.

As much as he would love to bask in that feeling and kiss you for the rest of eternity, he didn’t know how much longer he could take not fucking you. He pulled your shirt over your head without warning, leaving you in nothing but your bra.

Deciding that the ratio of clothes-taken-off was uneven, you reached for his belt buckle, grabbing him by the back of the neck with your other hand to pull him back down to kiss you. You fumbled with his belt buckle, trying to figure it out how to get it undone with your eyes closed.

Joe sighed into your mouth, pushing your hands away from his belt to do it himself. You giggled slightly, causing him to try and suppress a grin as you kissed. He took his belt off and you heard it hit the hardwood floor, followed by the sound of his pants unzipping. The thought of what you were about to get nearly made your eyes roll back in your head, the wetness spread across your inner thighs only growing.

You pulled the hem of his shirt up, breaking away from the kiss for only a second to allow him to pull it over his head, disregarding it with the rest of your clothes on the floor. Your fingers danced along the waist of his pants for a moment, then you slipped your hand inside. Joe was an extremely smooth kisser, but his rhythm was interrupted when you cupped him over his underwear, making him stifle his movements. You smirked and held him slightly tighter, making his arms nearly buckle as he groaned into you.

He let your little power trip last for a few more seconds before he grabbed your wrist and pulled your hand away from him. He grabbed your other wrist with the same hand and then held your hands over your head. He let go, but you held your hands where they were as he pulled his pants and boxers off.

Normally, in a situation like this, one you had been in times and times before, you would feel vulnerable. Laying naked on someone else’s bed while they undress, completely and utterly at their demand. But, for some reason, you felt safe and taken care of. You felt so secure in his touches as he set his hand on your thigh, moving himself to settle in between your legs.

He looked at you, your hands above your head as you looked back at him expectantly. He couldn’t help but pump himself a few times before finally lining himself up to your entrance. He reached up and set a hand by your head, the other holding his shaft. He stalled for a moment, taking time to look down at your pussy, sliding his tip up and down your slit.

You lifted your hips expecting him to push himself inside of you. “Please.” You whispered.

He looked back up at you, then leaned over you further, so his face was inches from yours. “Please what, baby?”

You reached up to set a hand on his broad shoulder which was flexed from holding himself up. “Please fuck me.” You begged.

He chuckled lightly. “Aw, sweetheart, all you had to do was ask.” He smiled. He pushed himself into you, and months of tension suddenly came undone.

He bottomed out, and your grip on his shoulder moved down to dig your nails into his shoulder blade. You shut your eyes and pushed your head further back into his pillow. “Oh my fucking god.” You staggered.

Joe couldn’t find it in himself to move right away, basking in the feeling of filling you up. He had thought about this exact moment too many times to take it for granted.

You took the liberty to move your own hips in a circle, causing him to grunt into your ear. He pulled out nearly all the way, then moved back in slowly.

As much as he wanted to take his time with you, the girl he had been obsessed with for the last 3 months finally underneath him, he began to feel himself losing control. His pace quickened at an insane rate, making you want to cover your mouth to try and stifle the ungodly moans coming out of you.

He lowered his head into your neck as he moved his hips against yours, making you lean your head back to expose your whole neck to him.

You felt him bite you softly, making you yelp in surprise. Heart fluttering, your cheeks flushed as he kissed your neck harshly. He began to slam into you harder, moving your whole body with every thrust. Red marks began to form on his back where you had dug all of your nails into his lower back.

His pace only got rougher and rougher as time went on, only making things more and more passionate.

“Joe, oh my god, please don’t stop, please please please please.” You rambled out of bliss. The feeling of build-up from earlier made a return as he lifted himself up, his hands on either side of your head.

He grabbed your thigh and held it up close to his hip, trying to find a better angle for you, he could tell you were close. He realized he had gotten that angle when you yelled out his name, arching your back into him, your voice broken and raspy.

“You close baby?” He asked his tone unrecognizable from the one you normally knew.

“Yes” You cried, grabbing into his hair unintentionally.

He lifted your leg over his shoulder with a grunt, hitting an unimaginable spot. He grabbed your throat to force you to look at him and leaned over you, his nose nearly touching yours. “Come on, give it to me, Y/N.” He growled.

Your vision went white as your orgasm hit you. Your jaw dropped open as he watched you come undone around him. Your whole body pulsed as you gasped for air. He let you come down from your high, riding it out roughly until your eyes fluttered open again.

All at once, he pulled out of you and grabbed your ankle, yanking your leg off of his shoulder. He grabbed your hips and flipped you over onto your knees, then grabbed you by a fistful of your hair and pushed your head down into the mattress. He began slamming into you again, the aftershock of your orgasm not even close to being over yet. You couldn’t do anything but let the tears welling in your eyes spillover as you cried his name over and over.

He pounded into you, his teeth gritted as he pushed your head further down into the bed. He knew he wasn’t going to last much longer, especially not with you like this. He yanked your hair up and pulled you close to him so he could talk into your ear.

“Do you know,” He spat with gritted teeth “how long I’ve waited to fuck you like this?” He wrapped an arm around your body to rub circles on your clit, his other hand moving you grab you by the throat again. “Having to see you, every. Fucking. Day. And not being able to have you? I thought I was crazy, Y/N, crazy for wanting to do the things I wanted to do to you. Things like this. But now I can see,” He began losing control of his body, his rhythm slowing as he could feel himself about to come “the feeling was mutual.”

He came inside of you as your second orgasm hit you out of nowhere, causing you to topple over as his movements slowed, your cum mixing with his. You moaned breathing in and out as he slowly came to a stop. “I’ve got you, baby, I’ve got you.” He sighed.

“Fuck.” He breathed. You sniffed and let out one last sob before he pulled out, causing you to wince. The rest of your body collapsed onto the bed as you panted, trying to catch your breath. He fell onto the bed next to you, the only movement you were able to manage was moving your hands up to wipe the tears off of your face.

Joe reached over and held you by the hip, pulling you to face him. He wrapped an arm around you to splay a hand in between your shoulder blades and moved the other to cup your cheek. His eyes moved from your eyes to your cheek. He stroked his thumb across your face to wipe the tears from your cheeks, your eyes fluttered shut under his touch. “Are you okay?” He spoke softly.

“Mhm.” You hummed lightly. You pressed a hand against his chest and moved to set your forehead on his shoulder. He rolled onto his back and you laid your head against his chest as he wrapped his arms completely around you.

Neither of you said anything, the room silent as your breathing slowly synced together. Joe couldn’t wipe his stupid, blissful smile off of his face as he rubbed your back lightly.

You couldn’t think about anything other than his heartbeat under your ear. Not the contract you signed, not Lola or Beck, not how much money you had and not how Joe was your boss. You only thought about the heartbeat you heard and the boy who owned it.

taglist- @im-an-adult-ish @almightygwil @draconiiian @roveyrove @drummah-in-a-rocknroll-band @lizgarxo @queenmylovely @lelifesaver @ghosttofcalum @freakibanana @coincidence-ithinknots-blog @pomjompish @sadhwstudent @pomjompish @darlingyourebeingabore

#joe mazzello #joe mazzello imagine #joe mazzello x reader #borhap boys x reader #joe mazzello headcanon #borhap boys imagine #joe mazzello fanfic #fan fiction #borhap cast #illicit affairs #john deacon headcanon #john deacon x reader #john deacon imagine #fan fic #x reader

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lumoshyperion · 4 years ago

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Idk if I've posted this scene before, but since we were on the topic of my obscure wips - here's an excerpt from the empath AU that really gives you a sense of what it's about!

The second time it happened, Albus was eight years old, and he was staying with his Uncle George and Aunt Angelina. He always loved staying with them, and with his two cousins. Fred could always make him laugh, even when he was sad or missing home.

He shared a room with him whenever he visited. There was a trundle bed, just for Albus, and they would talk and laugh into the night until Fred fell asleep and Albus stayed awake, watching the stars outside the window. He liked staying up late. He liked the peace and quiet, when everyone else was asleep and all he could hear or feel was himself.

But he knew, even as he lay there, that someone else was awake. He could feel a chill seeping up through the carpet. He rolled over and let his hand hover just above the floor. It was faint, but he could still feel it. Someone was crying.

Albus quietly got up and pattered downstairs, barefoot so that he wouldn’t wake anyone else. The fire was still going in the main room. And, as he peered inside, he quickly spotted his uncle sitting alone on the couch with his head in his hands.

Albus hovered in the doorway. He couldn’t tell if his uncle would want company or not. It wasn’t the first time he’d seen him cry, but usually another grown up was there to talk to him. And Albus was only eight years old. He didn’t know what to say or do. But his body answered for him, walking over to the couch and wordlessly sitting down next to his uncle.

He stopped crying, but didn’t speak, and Albus fiddled with his hands as he wondered what to do next. It was instinct that told him to lean in until his head was on his shoulder. Eventually, Uncle George wrapped an arm around him, and they sat together in silence in front of the fire until Albus fell asleep.

“That was really kind, what you did for your Uncle George,” Harry said, the next day as they made dinner together. “I’m proud of you, Albus.”

Albus shrugged and looked away. He didn’t do it for approval or thanks. And the pride in his dad’s eyes as he looked at him across the kitchen made him feel strange, somehow. He just wanted to keep peeling vegetables while his dad hummed at the stove, the same as they usually did every weeknight. He’d always loved the peace of it, the familiarity of it. Like dipping his feet in the waves at the beach, with the sand between his toes and the sun on his face, it wrapped a sense of warmth and comfort around him.

But his dad wasn’t finished, flashing a smile over his shoulder as he continued, “How did you know he was awake? Couldn’t you sleep on Fred’s trundle bed?”

“No, it wasn’t like that. I just… knew,” He paused, flicking carrot peels into a bowl. “I could feel him crying.”

Harry dropped his knife, making Albus wince. It clattered loudly across the chopping board before he caught it and turned to stare at Albus, who stared back.

“When you say that – you felt him crying,” Harry began, after a while. His expression was closed off, but Albus could feel his anxiety rippling through the air. “What do you mean? Have you – is that the first time you’ve felt something like that?”

He pondered his answer for a moment. He knew he couldn’t keep it a secret any longer, and a part of him just wanted his dad to tell him that it was all going to be okay. “It’s not the first time. I could tell mum had hurt her shoulder at training today, because I could feel it. And I could tell Lily was sad when you said she couldn’t go to the movies with Alice, even though she didn’t say anything,” he explained, without looking at Harry. “I thought it would stop one day, but it hasn’t.”

Albus pushed the bowl and vegetable peeler aside. He’d almost cut his thumb with the blade, as he struggled to keep his hands still and stop fiddling nervously. “How long has this been happening, Albus?”

“Christmas at Nan and Grandad’s house when I was six.” He finally looked up, feeling the pinch of pain in his dad’s expression before he saw it. “Are you… are you mad at me?”

“No,” Harry uttered, his voice almost breaking as he crossed the kitchen and sat down next to Albus. “No, of course not. I just - wish you’d told me sooner.”

He frowned. “You know what it is?”

His dad nodded, slowly. “It’s like - empathy. Do you know what that is?” Albus shrugged. “It’s when you can understand what someone else is feeling. Usually it ends there, but for some people it’s - more than that. For some people, they can feel what everyone else is feeling. Like reading their thoughts or memories, except - it isn’t a spell. You can’t turn it off. And it’s rare. Only a few people have it. Like my mum, and Teddy’s dad."

As he spoke, it hit Albus. The familiarity in his voice, the look in his eyes. “And you?”

Harry smiled, wistfully. “And me. It’s something your Aunt Hermione has been researching for years. There isn’t a name for it yet, but she wants to call it Empatheia or Einfühlung. I think that’s German? It sounds German.”

Albus laughed, a little, and Harry’s smile grew more genuine and unencumbered by sadness. Something about the thought of his aunt scouring books and libraries for something that might help made him feel less alone, and he could tell his dad was feeling the exact same way.

“Professor Lupin said we were empaths. So that’s the word I’ve always used,” Harry explained. “And he told me that it’s a gift. Even if sometimes it doesn’t feel like one.”

They lapsed into silence after that. Albus staring out the window and Harry glancing over at the pot of water boiling on the stove, before Albus finally spoke up, “Can I ask you something?”

“Anything,” his dad replied, leaning forward in his seat and clasping his hands together.

“Can we… Can I feel things for other people?”

Harry gave him a confused look. “What do you mean?”

“Uncle George is sad lots of the time. And Nan cries every Christmas,” he explained, tugging nervously on his middle finger to avoid looking at his dad. “But can I take it from them? If I don’t want them to be sad anymore, can I be sad for them?” He paused and sniffed. He wasn’t sure he was explaining it right. “I don’t - I don’t mind. I can do it.”

Albus watched his dad’s face crumple, and he opened his mouth to apologise - maybe he’d said something wrong, or upset him somehow? - but his words were stifled when Harry pulled him into his arms. He let out a sigh of relief and buried his face in his shoulder.

#Cursed Child #ccsquad #Albus Potter #Harry Potter #George Weasley

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detectivecarlosreyes · 4 years ago

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In Case of Emergency (Ch 2/10)

Ao3 | 1.2k | Eventual Buddie | Status: Incomplete

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Chapter 2 - Twinkling stars and unfiltered complements An additional moment from ep 2x06:Dosed of what happened in the hours after the pageant with the boys coming down from their hallucinogen high.

When Eddie gave Buck his key, Buck never would have thought he would actually need to use it. And yet here he was only a few weeks later, half supporting Eddie's loose frame to his door for the reason of drug incapacitation.

It was the day they were dosed by the reptile lady. After they had been cleared by medical, Athena had quarantined them all at the station and was waiting for the effects of the drug to wear off.

Buck had come back to his sense some hours later since the pageant incident with a grumbling stomach and a cottonmouth, feeling off-balance and confused as to why he felt like he’d been drugged.

He found himself on the couch with Eddie who was lying on his back with his head on the armrest gazing up at the ceiling, his legs lying across Buck’s lap, looking well and truly out of it. With one eye squeezed shut in concentration Buck thought back to the reason for his current situation, and eventually remembered a vague memory of being handcuffed and Athena saying something about a hallucinogen.

Buck groaned, scrubbing at his face before running his fingers through his hair, and then eased himself out from beneath Eddie’s legs, making his way to the fridge, noticing Athena on his way, still dressed in her uniform.

Feeling a warm fuzzy fondness towards her for no specific reason, he deviated from his path to give her a one-armed hug from behind eliciting a surprised laugh from her as her attention is taken away from her phone. “Buck? How are you doing there? You seem more with it now.”

“We were drugged. Am I remembering that right?” He asked as he continued on his journey to the fridge and pulled out a bottle of water, guzzling half of it before setting it down on the counter.

“That’s right, a hallucinogen in the brownies.”

“Well, I can safely say I won’t be eating any snacks given to us by the public anytime soon.”

He turned his attention to the pantry for the muesli bars that he always kept stocked and stuffed a few in his pocket before opening one to satisfy his grumbling stomach.

“No doubt.” She responded, giving him a once over before taking a sip from the mug sitting in front of her.

He leaned his forearms against the countertop and blearily glanced around realising how quiet the space was, “Where’s everyone else?”

“Next shift came in early, Chim took Hen home, Bobby didn’t want to leave until everyone else did so he’s in his office resting as well; and well, you know where Eddie is.”

“Ah yes.” Buck looked back over to Eddie, who was still lying on the couch sleepily mumbling about butterflies. “I’ll drop him off at his place on my way home.”

Athena quirked an eyebrow at the statement, “I should hope that you’re not driving.”

He couldn't help but grin at her motherly tone, “Don’t worry, I’ll order us a ride.”

Athena stood up from the table at that and gave him a pat on the shoulder as she passed him on her way to Bobby's office, “Thankfully you’ve got the next day off to clear this out of your system. I’m going to try again with Bobby. Now that you’re heading home, hopefully he’ll be more willing to leave.”

“Good luck with that.” He called to her retreating form, getting an answering wave of acknowledgment in return.

Buck headed back to Eddie and tapped him lightly on the head. “Come on man, time to go home.”

Eddie peered up at him with a lazy smile making Buck think that either Eddie had a few more brownies than he remembered, or he was just feeling the effects stronger than he expected. Eddie thrust a hand towards him, Buck shook his head in amusement before gripping his forearm and easily pulled him to his feet before gently directing his body to the locker room to gather their things before leading him to sit outside while they waited for their ride.

Eddie leaned heavily into him once they were settled and tipped his head back to look up at the developing stars.

“When I was little I wanted to be an astronaut because I wanted to see the stars up close.” Said Eddie wistfully, cutting through the quiet are of the evening.

“I’ve always loved them, they always look like they’re twinkling.” He continued as he dropped his head on Buck’s shoulder with a fond sigh, “your eyes do that sometimes when you smile too.”

Buck glanced down at him in amusement, brow slightly furrowed at the clearly unfiltered complement. Before he had a chance to reply, however, the driver pulled up into the parking lot, distracting him from his thoughts for a moment as he focused on balancing both their bags on his shoulders while also steering Eddie towards the car.

The drive didn’t take too long, with Buck spending the majority of the time staring unseeingly out the window as he replayed that moment, wondering what Eddie meant by what he said while the man in question was slumped sideways in what looked to be an uncomfortable position against his door.

He thanked the driver when they arrived and asked him if he wouldn’t mind waiting while he got Eddie settled inside to which the man graciously agreed.

Buck groaned when they reached the door, realising that he’d have to dig around for Eddie’s keys in his duffle until he remembered latently that his own keys were in his pocket, holding the very key he needed to get into the house.

Huffing out a sigh of relief, Buck opens the door and drags Eddie inside, thankful that Christopher was already staying at Pepa’s place for the night.

Eddie was easy to direct to his bedroom and happy faceplanted bonelessly onto his bed without prompting leading Buck to chuckle as he pulled off Eddie’s boots before draping a throw blanket over him that he’d snagged on the way to the bedroom.

Quickly rifling in Eddie’s duffle that he’d dropped by the bedroom door, Buck found his phone and drink bottle and set them both on his bedside, putting his phone on charge and checking it for an alarm making sure it was turned on, knowing Eddie wouldn’t appreciate sleeping the day away.

Nodding to himself, Buck turned to leave, flicking off the light when Eddie spoke, half mumbling into his pillow, “I’m glad we’re friends.”

“Me too Eddie,” he answered softly, lightly rapping a knuckle once against the door frame before half pulling the door shut and headed back to the patiently waiting driver.

When he eventually got home, Buck typed out a message for Eddie to wake up to, pre-emptively explaining what had happened in case he didn’t remember, judging from how fuzzy he was himself, Buck wouldn’t be surprised if that was the case.

With that last task done, Buck fell into bed himself, looking forward to sleeping off the remnants of the drug still in his system, blissfully unaware of how much of the day Eddie turned out to remember come morning.

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neesieiumz · 4 years ago

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All the Stars {Tamaki Amajiki x Reader} - Chapter 2

Summary: When Fatgum hires a sidekick transferring from America and assigns Tamaki to show her around, Tamaki sees the differences between the two of them and wonders if they are even going to get along? At least she seems like a decent person...right

A/N: This was honestly unexpected, I’m glad I was able to push this out in time!

Word count: 1.9 k

Chapter 2 - Coffee Shop

Tamaki shivered and pulled his scarf closer to his face as he walked to the cafe near his and Mirio’s apartment. Rambling on beside him was the Permeation hero rambling on about a mission he did, taking down some villains in a hostage situation.

“So then after we sent the villains on their way to jail, one of the hostages, she wouldn’t let go of me, something about not wanting one of the villains to come after her in some kind of revenge for “getting them arrested” and wanted me to stay the night, can you believe it?!” Mirio laughed at the memory.

“I’m pretty sure she just wanted to sleep with you Mirio,” Tamaki mumbled under his breath but it was loud enough for the SUnshine hero to hear him.

He laughed and slapped Tamaki on the back, taking the man by surprise and making him nearly fall over. Tamaki looked back at his friend once he got his balance and gave Mirio his best glare. Mirio did nothing but smile at him and opened the door to their favorite cafe to meet up with Nejire when she was in town. The warmth of the cafe tingled at Tamaki’s cold face as the smell of pumpkin spice and peppermint filled his senses. He unravels his scarf and cracked his neck to allow himself to relax further.

“Mirio, Tamaki! Over here!”

They both looked up and saw Nejire standing up and waving at the two of them. The both of them smiled at their female friend and walked over to the table she reserved for the three of them. Tamaki let Mirio in first before pulling out his own seat and sitting down.

“Hey Neijre, it’s been a while,” Mirio smiled, holding her gloved hands with his own, making Nejire blush.

Tamaki noticed the both of them and rolled his eyes, the two of them have been pinning after each other since school ended for the three of them. Tamaki placed his arms on the table and pulled out his phone and waited for the two of them to finish their love meeting. He was scrolling through his messages, replying back to Fatgum about possibly taking an undercover case when someone yelled out Nejire’s name. All three of them looked up and saw the cafe worker holding a drink case with three coffees and some warped up sandwiches and bags.

“Oh, that’s for us!” Nejire started to get up but Tamaki beat her to it.

“You stay here, I can go get it,” Tamaki reluctantly offered.

Nejire looked a little concerned, “you sure Tamaki, I can get it.”

Tamaki nodded and made his way over to the pickup counter, “yeah, it’s fine, plus I need to let you guys finish flirting anyways.”

Tamaki walked away not seeing Nejire’s flushed face and Mirio’s sheepish expressions.

“HA! Good one Tamaki!” Mirio laughed off Tamaki’s jab at their love life, making Tamaki shake his head.

Tamaki walked up to the counter and picked up the order Neijre placed for the three of them, just about when he was about to walk away…

“Amajiki-san!”

Tamaki flinched and slowly turned around to find Y/n, the new sidekick Fatgum just hired, standing there, holding two coffees, and a small bag in her hands. It’s been about two weeks since the BMI hero hired Y/n and already she’s made such a big splash in Japan. Recently she and her partner Aoi took down a recently rising gang in Japan and Y/n was able to keep most of the villains back without hurting innocent bystanders.

Tamaki took a look at what she’s wearing, an orange hoodie with camo baggy pants and white sneakers. On her head was a white and her individual braids were all tied in one big braid pulled to the side.

“Amajiki-san, I thought it was you! I haven’t seen you in a while since you gave me that tour! Man, it’s been a while!” Y/n smiled, stepping even closer to him.

Tamaki could feel his ears getting hot as he tried to respond to her, “Yeah, I guess it has been a while.”

“I heard you got hurt when taking down some villains in an attempted bank robbery, you’re okay right?” Y/n looks at him with concern, stepping even closer to him.

Tamaki’s eyes widened and tried to discreetly create some distance between the two of them but answered her question.

“Yeah, I’m okay, just a couple of scratches and bruises, nothing to be worried about. What about you? I heard you took down a gang of villains terrorizing some civilians by yourself while your partner was evacuating citizens.”

Y/n smiled brightly, much like Mirio’s, making the manifest hero smile back at her.

“You heard about that huh? Yeah, it was hard but I was glad I was able to hold them back long enough until Aoi was able to get the bystanders out of the way!” Y/n boasted, making dramatic gestures trying to recap what happened. Tamaki couldn’t help himself and laughed a little at her actions, he thought he was being quiet with it but Y/n’s ears must have picked up on him and turned to look at him. Tamaki saw this and thought that he had offended her,

Oh no, why did I laugh at her?! I couldn’t help it, she looks so cute!

Right before he was about to apologize, a soft smile took itself on her face and Y/n titled her head before speaking.

“You have a nice laugh Tamaki, you should definitely use it more.”

Tamaki’s widened and his ears went completely hot, his mouth dried out and suddenly all the words in his mind went blank. What’s happening to him? What did she do to him? Is this a secret quirk that she hid from everyone? As that was happening, a male voice called out to Y/n which pulled Tamaki back to earth. They both turned to the door where Aoi was standing there annoyed, holding the door open.

“Come on! We have patrol soon!” He yelled at her.

Y/n playfully rolled her eyes at him before turning back to Tamaki, smiling wistfully. She placed a hand on his shoulder and squeezed it.

“I’ll see at the agency, whenever our schedules overlap.”

With one final look between the two of them, Y/n walked away and headed to her grumpy partner who was looking at her with playful disdain. Y/n noticed this and playfully punched him in the stomach. Y/n walked out without looking back but as Aoi followed behind her, he looked back at Tamaki and glared at him. This took Tamaki back and he jumped back at the iciness of the glare. With that final look, Aoi followed his partner to the parking lot down the street where Aoi most likely parked, having pride in not taking the train. Tamaki’s eyes followed the two of them until he couldn’t see them. Once he couldn’t, he let out a breath. In relief, in sadness? He wasn’t sure yet.

Tamaki walked back to his friends who were so not watching the entire interaction between him and Y/n. Knowing them, Tamaki avoided eye contact with them and placed their respective orders in front of them. Tamaki then took his seat and was about to take a sip of his coffee when Nejire finally broke.

“Okay, so like, are we not gonna talk about the super cute girl that Tamaki held a full conversation with?! Like Tamaki, you never told us about her! Like who is she? What’s her quirk? When did you meet her? What did you-”

“Okay! One question at a time. Nejire, don’t want to overwhelm him,” Mirio calmed her down and handed a red velvet peppermint cupcake to munch on. That seemed to do the trick and Nejire stopped talk to eat her treat but still looked at Tamaki, awaiting an answer from him. Tamaki sighed, knowing he’ll have to answer their questions. He opened his container and saw a roast beef, egg, and cheese breakfast sandwich. He began to and shortly explained who Y/n was.

“She’s a new sidekick that Fatgum hired who transferred from America recently. I had to show her around the facility when she was hired.” Tamaki said in-between bites of his sandwich.

Nejire nodded but his explanation didn’t satisfy her, she felt that Tamaki was holding back more on her but decided to leave it for another day.

“Who was that dude with her? He didn’t seem to like you very much” Mirio asked, picking up a piece of egg.

Tamaki thought back to the man and shudder at his intense glare, “his name is Aoi, he’s another sidekick that was hired a year after me...and I don’t know why he looks at me like that…” Tamaki trailed off, thinking back to when Fatgum introduced them.

Tamaki was returning from patrol by himself, his nerves fried from having to talk to so many citizens, luckily no villains tried their luck and everything was smooth sailing for his entire shift. He was about to enter the locker room when he bumped into someone leaving. He was slightly shoved but knew if he was a regular person, he would have been pushed to the floor. Tamaki looked over and saw someone he never has seen before walking out in gear he’s never seen before. Tamaki was about to ask who he was when he heard Fatgum.

“Aoi, looking good!”

Aoi…? Tamaki thought, cracking his neck to relieve some of the tension there.

Fatgum looked back and noticed Tamaki standing there and smiled, “hey Tamaki! Returning from patrol?” Fatgum waved.

Tamaki looked away sheepishly and nodded. Thinking back to some conversations he had with Fatgum about possibly hiring some new sidekicks. Tamaki realized that this must have been one of the new sidekicks Fatgum may have hired.

“Well, let me introduce each other,” Fatgum waved Tamaki.

Tamaki took a deep breath and slowly walked to where the two of them were. He stopped a couple of steps from them and waived for Fatgum to introduce them.

“Tamaki, this is Aoi, he’s the newest edition to the agency, I’ve already given him the tour and we’re about to go on patrol but I’m glad we caught you before we left!” Fatgum smiled and took a couple of steps back to let them introduce each other personally. Aoi didn’t move a muscle and they both stood there in silence before Tamaki took a deep breath and moved his hand to introduce himself.

“I’m Tamaki Amajiki, my hero name’s Suneater.”

Aoi looked at Tamaki and looked down at his hand before rolling his eyes and turning towards, in a thick accent, Aoi spoke to Fatgum.

“Can we get to patrol, I want to learn about this city as soon as possible!”

Fatgum looked surprised that Aoi didn’t take Tamaki’s hand and was about to say something but Tamaki interrupted him.

“I need to get changed anyway, it was nice to meet you Aoi-san.” Tamaki gave a small bow before walking away and back to the locker rooms to change out of his hero suit. All before Fatgum could say anything.

Tamaki shook himself out of that flashback. That was three years ago, and ever since then, Aoi has held a look of disdain for Tamaki, even though Tamaki could never figure out why.

Tamaki took a sip of his coffee and finished his sandwich. He could worry about Aoi later, today was his only day off in a month and a half and wanted to spend it with his friends.

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10-porgs-in-a-trenchcoat · 4 years ago

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Foxiyo Week: Fearless

@foxiyoweek

[This entry takes place in a happily-ever-after AU, approx. five years after Palpatine is exposed and removed from power]

When he was a soldier, there was very little in his day-to-day duties that scared Fox. Fear of blaster fire, explosions, blood, violence, injury, and death had been conditioned out of his psyche during his training. As a result, he had considered himself fairly unflappable. But then he fell in love, and with that love came fear of heartbreak and fear of loss. And when he and Riyo learned they were expecting a baby, another fear came to him: that he would not be a good father. Then the day came when he held his newborn daughter for the first time, and his love for her greatly outweighed his fears.

At four years old, little Mira Chuchi was almost a perfect mix of her parents. She had her mother’s blue skin and crescent-shaped markings on her cheeks, and her father’s deep brown eyes and curly black hair. At first Fox worried that she would age quickly like he did, but by both human and Pantoran metrics she was aging at the same rate as any other natural-born child from either species. That brought him relief, since it meant she could have the normal happy childhood he never got.

“Tell me a bedtime story, Papa?” Mira asked once she was settled into bed, snuggled up under the covers. Fox sat perched on the edge of the bed next to her and she looked up at him with big bright eyes. She clutched a stuffed tooka plushie in her arms.

“I would love to,” Fox responded. He wracked his brain, trying to think of a story to tell. His mind settled on one event from his life, from before Mira was born, and he quickly thought of a way to translate it into something child-friendly.

“Once there was a soldier, one of the bravest soldiers in the entire Republic. He always did the right thing and helped people and stopped every bad guy he crossed. One day a giant monster came to Coruscant and terrorized the city. Rawwrrr!” He let out a roar and raised his hands into claws before diving in to lightly tickle at Mira. She giggled in response to being tickled.

“The monster was big and scary, and it tried to eat the people in the city. It tried to eat a little girl, but the brave soldier swooped in and saved her just in time! Carried her away and gave her back to her mom. And he saved many more people from being eaten too!”

“Did the soldier beat the monster?” Mira asked innocently.

Maybe it was best to lie a little bit, he thought, for entertainment’s sake. She didn’t need to know that in reality he had been hit in the face by the Zillo Beast’s claws.

“Yes, he did. All by himself. He shot a cable and tied it around the monster’s legs, and it fell onto the ground!” He slapped his hand onto the bed for dramatic effect. “And then … then he stunned the monster and loaded it onto a starship and flew it to a far away planet where it could live with others of its kind. Then the soldier returned to Coruscant and was rewarded for being the bravest and most fearless soldier in the entire galaxy.”

Mira narrowed her eyes in a skeptical scrutiny. “That’s not your best bedtime story, Papa.”

Fox stifled a laugh. She was just like her mother.

A laugh came from the doorway of the bedroom, and Fox turned to see Riyo standing there. She leaned against the doorway, dressed in her burgundy-and-gold skirt and jacket that she often wore to the Senate. She must have just gotten home from work, Fox thought.

“Momma!” Mira squeaked excitedly. She sat up and looked up at her mother with a toothy grin.

“Hello, my baby,” cooed Riyo as she walked over to the bed and knelt beside her daughter.

“Papa told me a bedtime story about the bravest soldier and a monster!”

“I heard,” said Riyo as she smoothed a hand over the top of Mira’s hair.

“Apparently it wasn’t my best work,” shrugged Fox.

Riyo chuckled. “Well since Mira’s going to sleep you’ll have plenty of time to think of a better one.” She turned her attention back to Mira. “If I’m home when you go to bed tomorrow I’ll tell you a bedtime story, how’s that?”

“Okay Momma,” said Mira. She lay back down, snuggled into her pillow, and Riyo drew the covers back over her to tuck her back in.

Riyo then leaned in to kiss Mira on the forehead. “Sleep tight, my baby. I love you.”

Fox then gave Mira little kisses on her cheek and forehead. “Love you, starlight. Good night.”

“Good night. Love you Momma, love you Papa.”

Fox then followed Riyo out of Mira’s room, turning off the lights and closing the door behind him. The two went to the living room; as Riyo plopped herself down on the couch and leaned back, Fox went into the kitchen to grab a bottle of wine and two glasses. On his way back into the living room, he caught his reflection in a window by the dining table. He went back and forth on how he felt about the streaks of gray hair around his temples; it was a sign he was getting older, which shouldn’t have surprised him, yet he counted himself lucky that he was going gray rather than bald.

“You’re the bravest, most fearless soldier in the entire galaxy now?” Riyo asked with a smirk as Fox sat down next to her. She leaned over to plant a kiss on his cheek.

“Well, every kid wants to think their dad’s a hero,” answered Fox as he poured out the wine. “Besides, you should hear the stories Rex tells his kids!” He handed a glass to Riyo.

“How is Rex these days?”

“He’s doing great. He, his husband, and their kids will actually be on Coruscant next week, and I’m looking forward to Mira finally getting to meet her cousins.”

“That will be so wonderful, we haven’t seen them since their wedding.”

“I know,” said Fox wistfully, “and if we can also convince Bly and Secura to come around with their little one, it will really be a party.”

A brief beat of silence passed as they both took drinks.

“How was the Senate today? You’re home late.” Fox asked.

Riyo let out a deep, long sigh, then leaned her head on Fox’s shoulder. He wrapped his arm around her and drew her in closer to him.

“It’s like pulling teeth. There are still so many warmongers and Palpatine loyalists. Padme and I are doing everything we can to get them to come across and support Chancellor Organa’s efforts to rebuild worlds devastated by the war, but we’re getting nowhere.”

“Maybe I resigned too soon,” said Fox, “if I were still with the army I could inspire them to cooperate. Or I’ll call Wolffe and ask him to pay them a visit.”

“Tempting, but don’t worry about it. Diplomacy will win.”

“I know it will, you and Amidala are the best of the best.” Fox pressed his lips to Riyo’s forehead.

“I just wish things would work out, I feel like I barely get to see Mira anymore. I know Padme’s missing her babies too.”

“This won’t last forever, things will be normal again one day,” said Fox, trying to sound reassuring. “But we can figure out ways for you and Mira to spend more time together until then. She knows the work you do is important, but she misses you too.”

Riyo craned her head upward to brush her lips against Fox’s jaw. “You’re such a wonderful father. Even better husband.” She snuggled back into him and wrapped an arm around his torso.

Fox smirked and rubbed his hand up and down Riyo’s arm. “Careful, keep talking like that and I’ll get to work on making Mira a big sister,” he said mischievously.

Riyo sat up and looked him dead in the eye. “I was actually thinking about asking you if you wanted to try for another child soon. We’d have to talk more about it in depth, I just want to know if we’re on the same page first.”

“Definitely.” He grinned from ear to ear. The thought of having another baby made his heart swell with joy.

The two leaned towards each other, meeting with a kiss in the middle. They then remained in place, their foreheads resting against one another.

“I love you so much,” Riyo murmured. “I’m so glad I have you.”

“I’m luckier to have you. I love you from now until the end of time.”

Riyo smiled and reached up to cradle his face in her hand. She kissed him again.

Later that night as he drifted off to sleep, Fox thought about how the past five years had been beyond anything he ever anticipated. The war ended after Palpatine was discovered to be playing both sides for his own gain, and he was ousted from power and held prisoner by the Jedi. (The Jedi kept him locked up somewhere hidden and were annoyingly secretive about their reasons for it, and they managed to stonewall the Senate at every turn, but that was a headache for another day)

The Republic and the Separatists had a peace treaty and were cordially frosty towards one another in their joint efforts to rebuild worlds hardest hit by the war. Most importantly for him, the Senate voted to grant clones full legal personhood. He resigned his commission without a second thought and asked Riyo to marry him. Miracle upon miracles, she said yes.

He thought back to his days as a cadet on Kamino, how his younger self could never imagine a future where he was husband to a brilliant Senator and father to a wonderful little girl. None of his brothers likely anticipated a future where they could choose their own paths, but the ones who survived the war could. Rex had his husband, kids, and a farm on Alderaan; Bly had Secura and their child and a quiet life on Ryloth; Cody and Wolffe were still in the army but they had fulfillment and a newfound sense of purpose; and his brothers in the Coruscant Guard either transferred to private security work or went to trade schools and universities. He was happy for all of them and prouder than he could put into words. It was better than the best that he once hoped for them. It was what they all deserved.

As for Fox … he had everything he ever wanted since the day he realized he was in love with Riyo. He couldn’t ask for anything else.

#foxiyoweek2020 #foxiyo #riyo chuchi #commander fox #clone wars #star wars

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ivarthebadbitch · 4 years ago

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Strange things can happen

Chapter 6 summary: Ivar and Aldreda actually become better acquainted. Back in Kattegat, Aslaug receives some upsetting news.

Canon divergent, everybody lives, arranged marriage AU after 4x14. Read this chapter on Ao3.

Previous chapters: [1] [2] [3] [4] [5]

On Ao3: [1] [2] [3] [4] [5]

Pairings: Ivar x OC, Ivar vs. basically everyone

Warnings: None

Word count: 2108

Tagged: @youbloodymadgenius @heavenly1927 @nukyster-blog @bae-roman @adhdnightmare (let me know if you’d like to be tagged)

Notes: We’re taking canon divergence a step further here, so Hvitserk is still in Kattegat and never went to the Mediterranean, and obviously there’s no invasion of Kattegat by Lagertha either (she’s in Hedeby and happily raising bunnies with Astrid, having correctly determined that ruling Kattegat was simply not worth it).

CHAPTER 6: Where is my son?

Aldreda had never been close to real combat before, and she was quickly arriving at the conclusion that she did not like it one bit. Even though she, Ivar, Aethelred, and Alfred were well protected and far behind the lines, they were still close enough to hear the clanging of metal and the shouts of dying men. She was the one who had insisted on joining her father on this trip with Ivar’s support, and now she was finally starting to see what a foolish idea that had been. If the Mercian rebels broke through the line, she was doubtful of their chances of survival. After all, Aethelred and Alfred were only boys. Ivar had more training, but it wasn’t like he’d ever been in an actual battle, and at any rate, he hardly looked like he could defend anybody while sitting on the ground.

As for herself, she had been raised to be a lady. She thought it unlikely that the rebels would be intimidated by her knowledge of Greek and skill with an embroidery needle.

Her hand kept moving unconsciously to the hilt of the dagger she kept tucked away under her furs. To her surprise, Alfred reached out and put his hand on top of hers and gave her a weak little smile. She forced herself to smile back. He also didn’t want to be anywhere near here, unlike Aethelred and Ivar. Aethelred was standing on his toes and straining to see the action, and relaying the information to Ivar on the ground.

“The Mercian left flank is falling back,” he called excitedly to Ivar. “Some of the men at the edges are running away—oh wait, I think they’re just regrouping. Never mind. Oh! That Mercian’s head just came all of the way off!”

“I want to see,” Ivar said. He gestured impatiently at Aldreda and the boys. “Help me up.”

Aldreda glanced at Aethelred and shrugged. Then she knelt down on Ivar’s right side and Aethelred on his left, and after a few false starts and some huffing and puffing—Ivar was taller and heavier than both of them—they managed to get him more or less on his feet.

His expression brightened once he was up, and somehow Aldreda felt slightly less irritated with him even as she staggered under his weight. “I want to be a warrior,” he said wistfully. “Just like my father. Greater than my father.”

Aldreda shuddered. “I think next time I’d rather stay home, myself,” she said. Ivar grinned at her.

The outcome of the battle had not been much in doubt from the beginning: the small band of Mercians were outnumbered and their weapons were poorer. It wasn’t long before they began to break for real and her father rode back in triumph, prisoners in tow and bodies left scattered on the field. When she saw him unharmed, she breathed a sigh of relief. If he hadn’t come back...she didn’t want to think about that.

There was some celebrating that evening, but it was soon cut short by the sudden thunderstorm that came rolling in and sent them all scurrying to their tents. In the tent she was sharing with Ivar, Aldreda hurriedly changed out of her wet clothes and slid under the blankets as Ivar did the same. She could feel him shivering next to her.

“What are you thinking about?” she whispered.

She hadn’t expected much of an answer, but he turned his head and looked at her. “I was thinking about your face when you saw your father return,” he said. “It made me think about my own father.”

“You miss him, don’t you?”

He swallowed and gave her a small nod. “I told you that he left when I was a boy and did not come home for a long time. Everyone thought he was dead, but I never believed it. I waited and waited for him. And then, after ten years, he finally came back, and I left behind everything so I could come to England with him, because my brothers would not do it, and I wanted to...I wanted to show him that I was a man too. Because he is a great man. The most famous of our people.”

He was quiet, but she sensed that there was more he wanted to say. He hesitated for a moment and took a deep breath. “But that wasn’t the first time he left me,” he said with difficulty. “He left me out to die when I was just a baby. He told me he did it because he believed I would die anyway. But I always thought he was just ashamed of me.”

“I am sorry,” Aldreda said, uncertain how to comfort him—or even if she should try to comfort him. Anything she could think to say sounded trite.

Ivar shook his head. “And now he has left me for the third time,” he said. “After all that, I miss him anyway. I wonder if I will ever see him again. Or my mother and my brothers. My mother must be worried sick over me. I hadn’t thought about that before I left.”

She rolled over on her side so she was facing him, knees almost touching. “Tell me about your mother.”

“My mother? She’s the most beautiful woman in the world,” he said with pride, and then scoffed when he saw her skeptical expression. “You don’t have to believe me, but it’s true. She is the daughter of the famous shieldmaiden Brynhildr and Sigurd the dragon-killer. But she is not just beautiful, she is also wise. And the gods favor her with visions that come true.”

“You’re lucky to know your mother,” she sighed. “Mine died when I was a baby and I have no memory of her. The only thing I have from her is this necklace my father gave me when we married.”

She held it out to show him, and he ran his fingers along the gold chain. “She was from Mercia,” she said. “That’s the reason why I wanted to come on this trip. So I could see her homeland.”

“Hmm.” He gave her a thoughtful look, as though he was actually interested in what she had to say. “What do you think, now that you’ve seen it?”

She shook her head and then stretched out on her back again, staring up at the ceiling of the tent. “It doesn’t look that different from Wessex,” she said. “Just forests and farmland. But I like to imagine her riding a horse along these same roads. I keep thinking that one of these mornings, we might pass her.”

It was more than she should have admitted to him—too personal, too intimate. But they were married now, weren’t they? So maybe it was all right to share these things. She heard Ivar shifting around in the darkness beside her to get comfortable. Then, to her surprise, she felt him reach out and take her hand. She soon fell asleep that way, her hand in his, warm under the blankets, listening to the rain coming down steadily outside.

***

Ubbe heard the horn sounding just after dawn. He rolled over on his side and closed his eyes, determined to ignore it and get a little more sleep, but Hvitserk was already loudly tramping into his room and shaking him awake.

“A ship is coming in,” Hvitserk told him. “It looks like one of Ecbert’s. Maybe Ragnar and Ivar have returned from England. Mother sent me to get you up.”

Ubbe groaned, but he threw on his clothes and followed Hvitserk to the great hall, where a small crowd was already gathering. He slipped in next to his mother, her face serene but hands folded in nervous anticipation on her lap. On his other side, Sigurd let out an audible sigh and crossed his arms as the doors opened.

It was just his father. Ubbe suddenly felt sick to his stomach. He should have gone to England with Ragnar instead of Ivar; it had been ridiculous for Ivar to go in the first place, no matter how badly he he had wanted it—

Ragnar waved his hand lazily as Aslaug sat forward, knuckles turning white as she gripped the arms of the throne. “Ivar’s not dead, don’t worry,” he announced. Ubbe let out the breath he hadn’t even realized he was holding.

A muscle jumped in Aslaug’s jaw. “Where. Is. My. Son?”

His father gave a little half-shrug, and Ubbe groaned inwardly. Beside him, Sigurd was shaking with silent laughter and Hvitserk had covered his mouth with his hand. “He’s fine,” Ragnar said. “He’s just in England, that’s all.”

“In England,” Aslaug repeated slowly.

“Yes, that’s where we went.”

“She’s going to kill him,” Sigurd whispered gleefully, and Ubbe had to admit that this seemed likely. He had seen his mother angry before, but never quite like this. Her face was deep red and she looked like she was on the brink of exploding.

There was a lengthy pause during which Ragnar shuffled his feet and Hvitserk let out a faint “ahem” that mostly went ignored. When their mother finally spoke, her voice was ominously quiet. “And why is he still in England, if you are here?”

“Oh, well.” Ragnar rubbed his head almost sheepishly. “I met with King Ecbert and we made an arrangement. A very good trade deal for Kattegat, some extremely favorable terms, I think you’ll agree—”

“My son. What did you do with my son?”

“Married to Ecbert’s granddaughter. That was part of the deal, you see.”

Sigurd really did start laughing then, practically gasping for air as his sides shook. Aslaug whipped her head around in fury. “You. Out,” she snapped at them. “Everyone out. Now!”

Ubbe practically had to shove Sigurd to get him moving. Once they were outside, Sigurd fell to his knees and howled with laughter, pounding his fist against the ground. “Ivar—he—Ecbert’s granddaughter—”

Hvitserk was laughing too, though not quite loud enough to cover up the sound of shouting coming from inside the great hall. “Come on, it isn’t that funny,” Ubbe told his brothers, albeit a little half-heartedly.

“Do you think Ragnar knew?” Hvitserk asked once he had managed to stop giggling. “About…you know.”

“Impossible.” Ubbe shook his head. “There is no way he would have arranged the marriage if he had known, and of course Ivar wouldn’t have wanted to say anything, so…”

“Well, the bride at least must know by now.” Sigurd wiped away a tear. “Who could have imagined? Ivar getting married before the rest of us, and to a Christian, and to Ecbert’s granddaughter…”

“This is not good, Sigurd,” Ubbe scolded. “We have to tell Ragnar.”

Hvitserk frowned. “Tell Ragnar? But Ivar’s already married.”

“Yes, but when Ecbert discovers the truth, it will go badly for Ivar and for all of us. They’ll believe Ragnar made a fool out of them. We must put a stop to this before things go too far.”

Sigurd gave him a skeptical look. “So then what do we do?”

“We have to...offer an alternative.” Ubbe winced at the sound of something being thrown inside the hall and landing with a loud thud. “It has to be me.”

Hvitserk raised his eyebrows. “You’ll go marry this girl in Ivar’s place?”

“Well, why not? I’m the oldest after Bjorn, and it will make mother happy to have Ivar back.”

“And you’ve got everything in working order,” Sigurd added with a malicious grin. He clapped Ubbe on the back. “Good luck, then. I can’t wait to hear all about this from Ivar.”

Ragnar stumbled out of the hall moments later and practically tripped in front of them. He straightened up and groaned. “Never marry a woman with a temper,” he confided. “Learn from me. I did it twice.”

“What did she say?” Ubbe asked.

Their father shook his head blearily. “She told me never to show my face in Kattegat again until I bring back her son. She was less interested in the details of the trade agreement than I expected, but after she calms down, I think she will come around. And she’s a woman, after all; once Ivar and his bride give her a grandchild, she will forget she was ever upset in the first place.”

Hvitserk shifted awkwardly from one foot to another and Sigurd looked like he was about to start laughing again. Ubbe cleared his throat. “Yes, well...about that last point…”

Ragnar raised his eyebrows. “Yes?”

Ubbe looked at his brothers and sighed. “There is something you should know. You may want to be sitting down for this.”

#vikings #ivar the boneless #fanfiction #fic: strange things can happen

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knifeshoeoreofight · 4 years ago

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Part 3 of ?

(part 1 here)

(part 2 here)

They fall into a pattern after that. Sid works in the labs during the day, going over previously gathered data and doing just enough to keep Bettman thinking that all is well. Natalia teaches him the staff rotations and camera locations to allow him to reach the observation room without being caught, and they meet up there in the middle of the night to discuss their plans.

Natalia just calls the being “malysh” most of the time, but Sid had wanted to call him with his name. The being had only laughed in a riot of color and explained that Sid had no hope of replicating it with human vocal cords. Much of the being’s communication, aside from color and telepathy, he explained, was subsonic, at frequencies too low for human ears.

“Evgeni,” Natalia says firmly, in order to move the conversation along. “Good Russian name. Can call you Zhenya for small.”

I like it the being--Zhenya-- had replied, radiating mental warmth in response.

“Zhenya,” Sidney had said, testing the sound of it in his mouth. The lights on Zhenya’s body had all flickered in response.

Now, they have the rudiments of a plan. Zhenya needs some of the equipment on his ship, badly.

My kind, he explains. We….adapt, easily. I can stop your gravity and atmosphere... from killing me. But I need my ship.

Their communication comes so much easier now. Sid wonders if there’s some kind of link or connection that grows stronger with use. He knows that it still takes effort and that Zhenya has to rest after long sentences, but the gaps are becoming shorter. Zhenya’s personality, vibrant from the first, comes through even more clearly now. Sid can see why Natalia is so fiercely protective of him, and he aches thinking about the suffering he’s had to endure until now.

I will be able to assume an almost human biological form he tells Sid one night. Tell me...what is considered good, to your species? In a person’s form.

His lights are all soft yellow and his eyes are wide and innocent-looking. Suspiciously so. When he imitates a human facial expression it’s deliberately done.

Sid flushes. “You mean, like, what is aesthetically pleasing? Or um.”

Lights pulse, a rainbow of other colors flickering through the yellow. Your species is very focused on...reproductive availability, correct?

“Oh god,” Sid says, feeling his face heat up even further. “Uh. Well, height is considered pretty important, for guys? And, um.”

Reproductive organ size? Zhenya says, still wide-eyed and butter-yellow with what Sid is beginning to think is faux-innocence.

“Such a dick,” Sid blurts. His face feels like it’s on fire.

Not yet Zhenya sends, smugness radiating from the words like bad cologne.

“You told me last night that your people have monitored our radio and television signals for decades,” Sid accuses. It had floored him to learn, but it explained Zhenya’s ability to speak human languages, albeit telepathically. “You know exactly what is considered attractive to humans.”

I only want to program the DNA successfully, Zhenya claims.

“Uh huh.” Sidney rolls his eyes, but has to smile as Zhenya’s lights edge toward pink. “Sure you do.”

***

Sid has more than a few overwhelming fears about their plans.

“If I disappear at the same time you do,” he says, one night about two weeks in. “They might come after me once I return home. They’ll be watching my place, probably.” He feels terrible even bringing this up. Zhenya and Natalia are both risking so much.

Once I have adapted Zhenya tells him, lights flowing down his skin in a way that seems intended to comfort and reassure. I will still have some of my abilities, and my technology. I will be able to protect you.

“You’ll be staying with me?” Sid asks. “After this?”

Zhenya goes very still. If. If you consent.

“Of course,” Sid says. He feels a strange sense of relief. The scientist in him, of course, wants every opportunity to continue to learn about extraterrestrial life, and the rest of him has begun to grow...fond of Zhenya. His curiosity, his surprising playfulness. His affection for Natalia.

Sid leans his forehead against the glass. He’s exhausted from weeks of fractured sleep and strung out nerves. They’re alone tonight- Natalia’s husband has a cold and she stayed home from work to care for him.

Zhenya leans his forehead against the glass as well, making one of his low, rumbling hums.

It was my dream, he thinks wistfully. All my life. To come and study this planet. I’m not ready to leave it. I just need to be free of this place.

“I know,” Sid says softly, and tries something new. Just like the times he sends thought Zhenya’s way, he tries to send the complicated bundle of emotions lodged in his chest. Fear, affection, resolve.

Sid is all Zhenya sends back, and the glass between them trembles with sound that Sid mostly feels, rather than hears.

He has the strangest sense that there’s more that Zhenya would like to say, but he holds his peace, moving instead to the less emotionally fraught topic of the facility’s containment breach protocols.

***

After a while, there isn’t anything more to discuss. There is only the execution of their plan.

Their saving grace is that due to the paranoia of those running the facility, nothing so much as a laptop camera is allowed in the observation room. They decide then, that getting through the window is their best bet, as they will have at least two hours between guards making security checks of the room.

Sid has access to the equipment storage area for the research department. He manages to steal a reciprocating saw and an acetylene torch easily enough, hiding them in one of the equipment lockers close to the observation room. He packs a backpack with only the absolute essentials, and makes his way to where Zhenya is waiting for him, tense and pacing as they wait for Natalia to arrive.

When she arrives, she wastes no time. She presses a wrapped package of food into Sid’s hands and kisses him on both cheeks. Sid has to swallow and clear his throat before he can ask her how preparations went.

“Pipe is blocked in office block. All cleaning staff go there, big mess.”

Sid nods. They have to get Zhenya out, then time their race to reach the hanger just right to avoid security patrols.

Natalia pauses, then presses something heavy into Sid’s hands, wrapped up in what appears to be a flowered tea towel.

He goes cold all over when he realizes that it’s a handgun.

“I’m take from guard’s room,” Natalia says. Her expression is worried but her gaze is flinty. Whatever it takes, her eyes say.

Sid’s hands shake a little, but he checks the safety, and tucks the weapon in the waistband of his jeans. The reality of it is, he doesn’t know how to use a gun properly, and the guards here are most likely going to bring him down and ask questions never. Some of the tension leaves Natalia’s shoulders though, and that is enough.

The plexiglass of the viewing window proves insanely difficult to deal with. It emits billows of noxious-smelling smoke as it melts, and when Sid has to alternate between the torch and the saw. His shoulders and arms are burning and sweat is running off him in rivers as he grits his teeth and shears through the window centimeter by hardwon centimeter. They’re cutting a diagonal across one of the corners, hoping for the sealant to fail and make for fewer cuts.

His brain is just an endless loop of come on come on come on come on as beside him Natalia starts to murmur what sound like prayers.

A glance into Zhenya’s enclosure shows smoke collecting at an alarming rate. His lights are flickering a sick green-yellow that turns Sid’s stomach with worry.

Finally. He hits the edge of the window and starts in on the massive bolts on the frame, working his way down from the top as Natalia starts in on the ones on the bottom.

They’re not going to have enough time. There’s no way. Sid wedges a crowbar under the edge of the frame and heaves on it, with a strangled grunt. Natalia grabs on as well and they both haul on it as Zhenya pushes on the opposite side.

There’s a horrible squeal of metal on metal, and, miraculously, the frame gives. The plexiglass falls out of it with a thud.

“Go, go!” Natalia cries. She pushes Sid’s bag at him and he throws it over his shoulder. He turns and holds out his arm to support Zhenya as he folds himself through the gap. He’s lighter than he looks, as if he’s hollow-boned as a bird.

Quick.

He extends a tendril to Natalia and she holds out her hand. Sid watches in puzzlement as Zhenya’s lights flare.

It is an honor, Natalia he says.

Natalia’s eyes are wet as she hurries them out of the room and down the long corridor to Zhenya’s ship. Sid can hear an alarm start to blare in another part of the complex.

“Be safe,” Sid tells her with a final kiss to her cheek. She nods, and takes off. She has to make it to an electrical panel that will allow her to throw the fuses for the hanger bay.

Come, Zhenya tells him, and they take off down the endless hall, sirens and flashing lights now blaring around them. Zhenya stumbles, and Sid has to haul him upright.

As if in a slow motion nightmare, just as they turn a corner and the hanger doors come into view, Sid registers a guard standing there, raising a radio to his lips.

Sid reaches for the gun before he can think. Sweat-slick palms, nothing but the drum of his heart in his ears.

He fires. The shot goes wide, the guard swivels, bringing up his own weapon.

Sid fires again. The guard goes down, clutching at his leg. Before he can reach his dropped weapon Sid kicks it away. He wants to lean over and vomit.

Later.

The guard’s key card opens the doors for them, at least, and as they run inside, the lights all go down, save the faint glowing ones on the ship itself.

Past the electric barrier erected around it, up into the gaping entryway that opens at Zhenya’s touch.

Hold on Zhenya thinks tersely at him, as Sid half collapses against a bulkhead, lungs burning.

The ship hums to life, and Sid sways on his feet as it rises into the air. Zhenya is standing inside a curved, organic looking arch, a web of light rising around him as the ship turns, screeching and throwing sparks as it brushes the hanger walls.

The doors are corrugated steel, and Zhenya had told them that his ship can break through. Sid still closes his eyes as he hears the thrum of the engines increase in pitch. Nothing around him had looked anything like an identifiable jumpseat or safety harness, so he just braces himself against the bulkhead.

Then the ship’s sudden acceleration presses him back into the wall like an enormous hand, there’s a jolt, an awful shearing sound of metal on metal, and the floor beneath Sid tilts.

The ship is shuddering, G forces pushing on Sid until the edges of his vision start to go dark. He might be screaming. Everything is sound, and roaring, and pressure. Time itself seems to stretch.

Then, easy as a sigh, the pressure lets him go. The floor rights itself, the engines calm.

Sid is on the floor on his hands and knees, panting for breath. When he can raise his head again, he looks up, out of the cockpit window.

Beyond it is deep, velvety black- too deep and dark to comprehend, spangled with a billion points of light.

The stars.

***

Sid is lightheaded with residual adrenaline and his hands shake with fine tremors. His eyes greedily devour the sight outside as he stands in front of the main viewing-window- the blue of the sky going cold and deep at the very edge of space, the infinite blackness beyond the fragile curve of the earth.

“Zhenya,” he breathes, and turns to look at him.

Zhenya is manipulating the web of light that must make up the controls, but he seems unwell. He’s hunched over a little, and his breathing seems rasping and labored.

Sid realizes, with a flood of guilt, that he’s able to breath perfectly, and that the gravity of the ship, after the press of rapid acceleration had ceased, feels normal to him.

“Zhenya,” he says urgently. “The life support systems. You’ve set them to human parameters, haven’t you?”

Zhenya blinks at him, slow. You would suffer ill effects from my species’s ideal parameters.

“Maybe of atmospheric composition,” Sid says. “What about gravity? Does your species need higher or lower gravity than humans?

Lower.

Sid sighs in relief. “That’s fine then, my species has done great in zero-g, even, without too many ill effects. Go ahead and change it.

Zhenya does something, and Sid grins like a child as his feet slowly leave the floor. Zhenya sighs, taking a deep, rattling breath that sounds, to Sid, relieved.

“This,” Sid assures him,”Is so fucking cool. I’ve dreamt of stuff like this, space and weightlessness, my whole life.”

Zhenya’s lights pulse, and Sid feels a swell of wordless affection wash up against his thoughts.

Zhenya just feels so fond when he looks at Sid. Sid doesn’t know quite what to do with that so he turns to look out of the window again, just in time to see the Baltic Sea slide by underneath them.

Something occurs to him. In all this planning, they hadn’t considered-

“Uh, where are we going,” Sidney asks.

I need time for the adaptation Zhenya replies. I still want to conduct my research. I could take you anywhere. I have earth resources we can use.

Sid has to stare out the window at that a little. Instead of northern Norway, he watches the reflection of Zhenya’s lights, gone gently blue and pink.

He’s sitting in a spaceship. He’s sitting in a spaceship with an extraterrestrial and he’s on the run from a shadowy government organization. He shakes his head.

“I don’t even know,” he says softly, and for some reason, he thinks, “I shot someone today,” and his hands start to shake.

Sidney. Zhenya moves to stand behind him, and he rests one of his long-fingered hands on Sid’s shoulders.

He can feel...regret, he thinks, bleeding across the connection of their minds. He turns to face Zhenya.

“I’m so glad we got you out,” he says decisively. “I am.”

You are… Zhenya pauses. Extraordinary. You and Natalia. You have both risked so much for me.

His eyes are fathomless, his face as unreadable as it ever is. But the pulse of his lights and the warmth in his mind tells Sid everything that his expression won’t.

Sid, for some reason, feels his own face heat. “It was the right thing to do.The humane thing.”

Humane, from the word for your species Zhenya thinks, and his mind does something that feels a lot like the equivalent of a smile. You humans are creatures of such staggering contrast and potential.

Sid can’t meet that steady gaze anymore. He looks out of the window again. Are they over the North Atlantic?

“So this adaptation,” he asks. “What is that going to entail?”

Natalia brought me a hair of her husband’s and one of her own. I will be very nearly as if I had been their son.

Sid shakes his head in amazement and feels a curious sense of loss. All that Zhenya is, all of his otherworldly beauty, compressed into a human shell. Necessary to live on earth and fulfill his dream, perhaps, but still.

I look forward to a mostly human body Zhenya goes on. I will only hold up to the most rudimentary medical scrutiny, but I will definitely stop being killed by your environment—at least not any faster than you. He flickers his lights wryly.

I will need to spend about an earth month in a nutrient bath as my DNA is re-programmed and my body restructures itself. The DNA from Natalia was the final piece, the rest of the scaffolding was already completed as part of the preparation for this expedition.

“You guys really can just rewrite DNA, huh,” Sid says, shaking his head.

Our technology for genome manipulation arose out of necessity, Zhenya explains. My people were dying out. After we discovered space travel, we discovered that almost everything foreign to our planet caused our DNA to mutate. We were fragile. Luckily, we developed the technology before it was too late.

Sid cannot help but think,for a moment, of children dying of cancer. Of his grandfather losing his mind to Alzheimer’s.

I’m sorry, Zhenya says, having probably ascertained some of that from Sid’s thoughts. The ability to accept radical gene therapies and be effectively re-written is a particular trait of my people’s DNA. Our technology would not be of any use to humans, to my regret. You are noble to think of it.

“Ah, well,” Sid says. “We’ll have to muddle through on our own, then.”

Zhenya flickers at him, then tilts his head to one side.

You grow tired, he says. The extensive telepathic communication is hurting you.

Oh. Now that he’s paying attention, Sid can feel the beginnings of a headache throbbing at his temples.

“We never decided where we were going.” He has to laugh a little.

We will stop at your abode, and then-- Zhenya doesn’t finish the thought, but Sid gets a quickly stifled mental flicker of... palm trees?

Wherever you would like, Zhenya defers politely.

“It’s your research trip.” Sid smiles at him. “What was your plan?”

Zhenya’s lights glow excitedly. In my research I encountered several cultural artifacts of popular entertainment set in Miami. One in particular seemed to imply it would make an excellent hiding location for those involved in espionage and covert operations.

“Are you….talking about Burn Notice?” Sid says, and laughs. Why is that so cute? “Face it, you just want to go to the beach, eh?”

Maybe so Zhenya replies, and his mental tone is a warm as a smile, even if his slit of a mouth doesn’t move.

“Sure, let’s go.” Sid winces as a bolt of pain stabs his temples.

Rest, Zhenya tells him both in word and in a soothing ripple of light. I shall take you to your home and we will then travel to our next hiding place after you have gathered your belongings. Please. He motions to an entryway in the rear of the cockpit.

When Sid goes where he’s bidden, he finds a handful of compact rooms. One is dimly lit, with soothing colors playing over the walls and a white, squashy blob the size of a king mattress on the floor.

Just to be sure, Sid hollers up the hall. He doesn’t want to end up sleeping in the equivalent of an alien toilet. When he receives the affirmative that it is, in fact, a bed, he puts down his pack and takes his shoes off, studying the weird, organic shapes of the room’s mysterious furnishings.

He snorts out a laugh when he notices, enshrined in a wall niche, a little collection of earthly looking doodads including, of all the fucking things, a Funko Pop figurine. He goes over to look and the objects make him smile. There’s a pine cone, a dented tin can of baked beans, and a postcard from Seattle. He knew Zhenya was fascinated with Earth but this tenderly displayed cluster of random artifacts just drives it home.

The bed is strange. The surface feels like silicone rubber and velvet had an oddly comfortable lovechild, but it’s pillowy and soft and he drops immediately off to sleep as soon as he lays his head down.

***

Sid.

Sid jolts awake as though his name had been spoken aloud, not just into his mind.

Zhenya is leaning over him.

How is your head?

Sid’s head feels a little like it usually does after a big headache- sort of like it’s a fishbowl made of brittle glass that he needs to be careful with. But it’s manageable.

He rubs the sleep out of his eyes. “Where are we?”

The roof of your apartment building.

That wakes him up. “Okay, nice. Are you coming in with me?”

Zhenya’s lights flicker excitedly. I would love to finally visit a private human domicile.

Sid smiles. The thought was accompanied by the same feeling of giddiness he imagines you’d get from a kid walking into a toy store.

***

Sid’s apartment is thankfully on the top floor, and they get Zhenya inside without incident. Zhenya does something with some sort of scanning device and his thoughts pulse with concern.

We should not linger. This building is being surveilled.

Fuck.

Go Zhenya tells him. I will keep watch.

Sid’s place is dim with all the shades drawn, and the still air with its closed-for-weeks smell adding to the surreality of it all as Sid makes his way through his rooms with a pounding heart.

What do you bring with you when you might be leaving life as you knew it behind for good? He grabs a duffle bag, then decides he doesn’t have time to be tidy and finds a garbage bag in the kitchen. He can organize later.

A couple changes of clothes, his backup hard drive, a photo of his parents. Does he take a bottle of shower gel? It’s not like he’s leaving the planet (ha). There’s going to be a CVS or something in Florida.

In goes his favorite quilt that his grandmother made him. A coffee mug he’s fond of from his sister. A stack of research materials and books that he’d hate to lose. There’s no reason he can’t keep working. A few more things get shoved haphazardly into the duffle and the garbage bag.

Just in time he realizes that he should probably grab his birth certificate and social security card. Just in case he really never comes back. Shit, what about rent? If he keeps paying rent, can the Russian organization that held Zhenya hack in and find out, tracking his credit card usage?

Too much to think about now. He’ll have time. He’s supposed to be in Russia for another month, in any case, and it’s paid in full.

He has everything he can’t do without. He takes a last look around. He has the strangest feeling that he’s never going to see the place again.

He shoulders the duffle and nods at Zhenya.

“Let’s go.”

***

#zvezda #sidgeno #sid/geno #sidney crosby/evgeni malkin #Hockey rpf #dana writes a thing

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theimperialnuisance · 3 years ago

Text

FFXIV Write 2021

Prompt 24 Illustrious

well known, respected, and admired for past achievements.

I know a lot of these stories are based around The Exarch lately but uh, I can’t help it >.> I’m a sucker for mutual pining and some of these prompts are just too perfect for it. This is a small snippet from the full story that will eventually be finished but this part was perfect for the prompt hence why it’s a little summarized in the beginning and may feel a little short toward the end. I will note that in the canon I have with my friends, we have two WoL’s (@tokki-yue is the other one) and I mention that because it’s mentioned in this so wanna clear any early confusion. Enjoy!

The first of the many unplanned meetings between Kien and the Exarch on the Watch tower. Very light ShB spoilers below.

Upon returning to the Crystarium, the cheers and celebrations had already begun. Finally after a hundred long years of enduring the Light, Lakeland would experience its first nightfall. The Exarch could scarcely believe his plan was finally coming to fruition and though the path ahead was still filled with trials and difficulties, it was still the first victory for Norvrandt and hopefully not the last. The energy about the Crystarium’s people was positively thrumming—the Exarch did his best to not get too caught up in it all but it was hard not too admits the awe and wonder. Somewhere in between his rounds to talk with as many people as he could and to check in on the Warriors, he lost sight of Kien.

He knew he shouldn’t worry too much about him but after their hard earned victory, the Bard seemed more troubled than happy. He knew from past experience Kien wasn’t much for celebrations but when he did all his research in preparation for the summonings, the tomes said otherwise and he was determined to find out if there was another underlying reason as to why he was separated from everyone else. After ensuring the other Scions were alright, he stepped away from the festivities to search for the other Warrior, a little relieved to have a moment for himself as well in the fresh air.

He gazed around the Rookery, noting that there were still quite a few people out and about, though the chatter was more of a soft murmur that filled the space, as if speaking any louder would shatter the memory of the bright starry sky they were all gazing upon. A small smile tugged the corners of his mouth and he too began to incline his head upward to see the night sky once again. He stopped short upon spotting a silhouette on the second highest platform of the watchtower, instantly knowing who was up there. A small sigh escaped him; he should have known better to look there first. History may have painted Kien differently than when he first knew him, but one thing seemed to remain unchanged, he still enjoyed heights just as much, so it should have been no surprise that he sought out the highest access point in the whole of the Crystarium.

Every step up the stairs sent his mind in a whirl. What would his excuse be when he got up there? He couldn’t very well tell Kien he only came up here to check on him—it was much too soon, and it may rouse suspicion. Should he tell him he just happened to go here too, since it was his favorite spot? Would that small fact give too much away? Mayhap he should turn around and head back down….but before he could even entertain that thought, he found himself at the top of the stairs and unable to take his gaze away from the sight before him.

Kien was leaning against the metal pillar of the platform, his arms crossed and gaze fixed on the gleaming tower. He couldn’t quite make out his expression but he could feel a sense of calm wash over him and his heart began to subside in its thrumming. Kien had yet to realize he had company with him as he inhaled a breath and settled himself down into a seated position at the edge of the platform, humming softly. The Exarch shifted his weight, leaning a bit on his staff as his heart began to thurm against his chest for an entirely different reason, suddenly nervous.

How many years had he longed for a moment like this to occur again? To be back with his friend, spending the night gazing at the tower just like they used to? They had both been eager to begin their new adventures then, younger and oblivious to the challenges their future held for them. From the moment they first met during the exhibition of the Crystal Tower, the two became fast friends and while the potential for their friendship to become something more was there, it never came to light because of the path their fates had planned for them. It was his hope that once he awoke to a bright future, he could chart course to find the Warrior again. That hope was shattered when he awoke two hundred years later to a calamity and read about his friend’s untimely death.

The Exarch could hardly grieve about it, having been too wrapped up with the Ironworks research to send him to the First. It wasn’t until he arrived a hundred years too early that he was able to sit down and read about his friend’s history that he could begin to understand just how much he missed while he was sleeping. There were still so many questions he had for him and so many tales he’d been eager to hear about—he had a second chance now. A second chance to right the world. A second chance to see him again. And while he had no idea of Kien still harbored the same feelings he did all these years later and may never know, he was just happy to see him alive and breathing. This time, he wouldn’t let that future happen. No matter what, the Warrior of Light’s—no, Kien and Tokki’s legacy would live on.

The Exarch inhaled a breath, gently tugging down on his hood to ensure he face remained hidden, and fighting down every urge to speak aloud on just how much this scene reminded him of old times. This was not the time nor the place. He didn’t want Kien to know it was him under the hood. He couldn’t know.

A floorboard creaked, causing the Exarch to flinch as Kien’s ear flicker back to indicate he was aware of his presence. “Apologies if I’m not supposed to be up here,” he began, glancing back briefly but not enough to see who it was. “I’ll head down in a moment.”

“No need to apologize, my friend.” The Exarch replied gently, the corner of his mouth tugging into a small smile as he watched Kien suddenly turn his head to fully gaze at him curiously. “May I?” He inclined his head slightly, his heart still rapidly beating against his chest as Kien eyed him for a bit, and then slowly nodded his head, gesturing to the empty spot next to him.

The Exarch inwardly breathed a sigh of relief and moved to settle himself down at a polite distance from Kien, his legs dangling over the edge and his staff resting next to him. “Forgive me for asking, but why are you up here and not down celebrating with the others?”

“I could ask you the same, couldn’t I?” Kien asked as he slowly turned his mismatched eyes to stare at the Exarch. His gaze was piercing, as if he was trying to see through the fabric of the heavy hood. “Being the leader of the Crystarium, should you not be down with your people?”

“Fair point,” The Exarch chuckled. “I needed a moment away from the celebrations. Knowing the people of the Crystarium, they’re likely to celebrate through the night, and apt as I am to join them, I fear this old man can only take so much excitement before needing a moment to retire. I often find myself up here to do so.”

Kien snorted a bit, which wasn’t exactly what the Exarch was expecting in reply, but he caught the corner of his mouth tugging up into a small smile. “With how you fought today, I’m still unsure if I can believe you’re as old as you say you are.” He paused, shrugging his shoulders. “Still, I can understand. I’m not one to stay too long at celebrations myself.”

Now it was the Exarch’s turn to be surprised and he was grateful to have kept his initial reaction in check as he stared curiously at the warrior. “I believe I read in the tomes that you were quite the festival goer; there would be no such celebration without the presence of the ‘illustrious Warrior of Light’.”

Kien laughed. “Is that what history says? Are you sure they weren’t referring to Tokki? She most certainly likes being the life of any celebration. Me, not so much.” He turned his gaze back down to the crowd below. “I’ve been to my fair share of celebrations in the past but I guess sometimes I enjoy watching them rather than being a part of them—the people don’t always need to know that a heroic deed I did is why they’re celebrating, you know?” He looked at the Exarch with a small smile who returned it in kind. “I know it’s not much of an explanation but it’s the best I’ve got.”

The Exarch returned his gaze to the tower with a short chuckle. “Well, regardless of why you’re up here, you have found one of the best spots in the Crystarium to view the night sky. You are free to come up here anytime, my friend.”

“It is a pretty spectacular view,” Kien replied wistfully as he kept his gaze fixed on the sky above, the tower gleaming brighter than ever before. “Though, I admit I came up here to get a better look at the tower…it reminds me of my favorite spot to view it back on the Source.”

The Exarch’s grip on his knee tightened and his breath hitched as he swallowed a knot in his throat. “You’d visit the tower often in the Source?” He quickly cleared his throat to avoid any unnecessary questions as Kien eyed him skeptically for a moment. “That is—no tomes I read about you mentioned your visits.” He wasn’t sure if that was a good recovery or not, but it seemed to have worked as Kien merely shrugged his shoulders with a sigh.

“I don’t suppose history would necessarily keep track of everything I do.” Kien chuckled softly. “Besides, I think I’d prefer it that way; that place was sort of a private viewing spot and I’d hate to see so many people there just to get a glimpse at the— what did you say they said? Oh, the illustrious Warrior of Light.” He tossed a lopsided grin at the Exarch which he returned with a polite smile, his heart skipping several beats. It felt like nothing had changed between them, even if only one of them felt that way. He’d do his best to enjoy the moment while he could but at a safe distance. One small slip up could expose himself much too soon.

“Well, if you have no intentions to return to the celebration anytime soon, care to indulge me on a few more things history may or may not have said about your past achievements?”

Kien corked a smile, settling himself in more and the Exarch did the same. “Sure, what would you like to know?”

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