#I hope the comics clear i finished it late last night so it might be a bit rocky to understand sorry | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

moodymisty · 1 year

Note

Hello, Jordan! I love the stories you write, at least the ones I have read (I didn’t want to spam you, so, I only reblogged one of your Crosshair stories)! I was reading your kinks and thought to myself I might have an interesting idea for a story if you are interested in it, of course!

So, I am a big fan of Alpha (ARC Commander Alpha from the comics) and Captain Fordo (From the 2003 cartoon). I haven’t seen you write for them, or talk of them, but your bio says you are a reader of the lore, if I am lucky enough would you be willing to write my thot for one of them? If not, that is fine.

Here is the idea:

The female reader is one of many civilians that join the Republic military following the first year of the war, and she trains and fights alongside (your choice of clone). She often disappears to remote areas of the base or Star Destroyer to write her own fantasies of being with (choice of clone). But this time, she can’t seem to find her data pad (I think that’s what it is called) in her footlocker that sat in front of her bunk. Not wanting to ask anyone who was in the barracks, she slightly panics until (choice of clone) clears his throat. Turning around slowly, she is horrified to see her data pad in the hands of the clone she often masturbated too.

-end

I was going over the kinks you have listed and picked out a few. I used their numbers so, please forgive me for being lazy. Of course, you can pick and choose, mix, and match. Since I picked them based off what I know or feel like these particular clones are like.

3, 9, 13, 18, 20, 25, 34, 40 and 41, 54, and lastly 72. 🤣🤣🤣🤣

With much love,

Notthatfanfictionwriter

Author's Note: Awww I'm so honored you like my stuff!! And don't worry about spamming me, it flatters me so much to see people people spamming my notifs i take it as a compliment. Lord knows i've done it before to people on this webbed site. ALSO.... fordofordofordofordofordo I love Alpha but Fordo. This was a fun experiment in making the smuttiness in the form of daydreams/thoughts, rather than actually happening. I hope you and everyone else enjoys the style change. I've also never written for Fordo before, so I hope it's ok...;

Relationships: Fordo/Fem!Reader

Warnings: NSFW, Oral (Male receiving), a tiny reference to Face fucking, a tiny bit of dirty talking/voice kink, daydreaming,

''You're going to shoot yourself in the foot one day, if you keep whipping your blasters around like that."

Packing up your rifle in it's case, you look over to the clones beside you; Oone of whom was playing around with his blasters in a way that was a bit too reckless for your liking. He gives you a bit of a dirty look, while one of the other clones in his group claps his hands together and prays: 'Please let that happen please, that would be hilarious'.

His reaction makes you let out a chuff of air as a laugh, while his friend basks in his irritation. Turning away, you call the target plate you'd been using back to you, so you can clean and finish up. It's absolutely full of holes and well used, throwing it in the trash now that you're done training on it.

Maybe it would be a stretch to call it training however; As it's more just keeping yourself entertained and from getting even the tiniest bit rusty. Hyperspace is boring, especially when there isn't much to entertain yourself on a ship this large. At least planet side on base, you have some fresh air and maybe if you're lucky, you'll see a rare animal or two.

Taking your rifle case and leaving the practice range, it's a struggle to not let all the white and grey of the walls, ceiling, and floors, all blend into a blurry mess. It's quite late and the ships lights are dimmed slightly lower, in a way to poorly simulate a regular day night cycle. As such, it's late. You don't know how many hours it's been since you've last gotten some rest, but it's long enough that you're going to make a straight line right to your tiny little broom closet of a room, and lay down.

"You're going somewhere fast,"

You only look up one you realize they're speaking to you, seeing familiar red painted armor. One of Fordo's men, judging by the particular markings. His standing guard at his station at the crossroads of two hallways, the other person that should be with him seems to be missing from his post at the moment.

"Got bored at the range, and no one's roped me into training against yet. So I'm gonna try and get some shut eye." The trooper nods, his one note chuckle distorted ever so slightly be the reverb of his helmet.

"Don't let me keep you." You wouldn't mind having a chat but, unfortunately your thin, cold bed is a bit more tempting at the moment.

"Tell Fordo I said hi?" His hands shift on his rifle, nodding. "Will do. I'm sure he'll be glad to hear it." Nodding you take your leave, not keeping the trooper from his duties any longer.

While it can admittedly be a bit lonely at times being one of a few civilian fighters aboard a vessel full to the brim with clones, but at least you have your barracks to get away from it sometimes. A nice part about it being that only half of the beds in it have actually been claimed, and with the ship's work rotations always moving, it's not uncommon for you to be completely alone at times.

Punching in the code and entering once again it seems everyone's gone, at least until someone has the same idea as you to steal a little time for yourself. On a Venator class ship you're always on call, but at least for this moment, you're free. It probably won't last long at all but at least you can enjoy this moment of freedom, for as long as you have it.

Grabbing your personal datapad from your locker you decide that in your rare moment you'd work on a bit of a personal hobby. Maybe you can write a little bit before you get too tired to keep your eyes open.

It's more a guilty pleasure than anything; Some self indulgence during a phase where you have little to no time to yourself.

None of this will ever, ever see any eyes beyond yours, as it's meant just for you to enjoy.

It would be mortifying for anyone to lay eyes on it, just in general, let alone if they realized the main male character served as little more than a fog over what was pretty much Fordo down to the atom.

Gods, you were inconsolable. In the dark writing dirty little stories about you and the man you're infatuated with, your commanding officer, you might as well hide under the covers and sneak around as if trying not to get caught.

Opening the current thing you've been toiling away on you read all the way to where you had previously stopped; Right before things were starting to get good. Biting the inside of your cheek your fingers slowly type, trying to put your sordid thoughts to words.

The heat of your breath brushes over the harsh material of his armor, almost fogging it. You can feel his gloved hand on you, cradling the crown of your head with a firm pressure. He keeps that pressure, ever increasing, until your lips drag against the fabric of his flightsuit. The waterline of your bottom lip touches the fabric just for a moment, leaving a tiny darkened stain of spit.

The room has been nearly silent other than two sets of gentle breathes, but when he finally does speak, the deep rumble of his voice cuts through the still air like a vibroknife. It makes your thighs tense, pressing together as you feel the thumb of your heart beat in your cunt.

"Take it off for me. Or do you like the feeling?"

He doesn't have a name, but whenever you imagine him- it's always Fordo. It's so desperate and almost pathetic, but at least you keep your thoughts jotted down here instead of making a fool of yourself in the field.

Clumsy hands freeing his cock from the fabric you can feel the heat of it against your face; Against your lips as your wrap them around the tip. That unique taste, tongue against the head of his cock. His hand doesn't shove your head down to gag on him, but instead just serves as a weight, firm guidance as your lips slide down towards the base.

He keeps it slow, steady listening to the way your mouth makes the wettest, lewdest sounds as his hips twitch upward towards your mouth. He's only a small bit of pressure away from taking complete control, his chest rising and falling faster as he lets out a groan.

"Kriff; Come on, you can take a bit more. I know you can."

You know Fordo isn't talkative. He often times rarely if ever speaks until he absolutely has to. Would that change when he's exposed like this? Or would he continue to be a stalwart, silent man- peering down at you between his thighs?

Neither option is less preferable, but it's impossible to deny the desire to have your Commander 'command' you. That stern voice, maybe distorted by the echo of his helmet, or perhaps not, telling you in intimate detail what he wants you to do to him. Or what he wants to do to you.

Your mouth takes as much of him as you possibly can, the wet heat of your mouth pulling a low, shaking groan from him. Suddenly however he grips your hair and begins to pull you off of his cock, looking down at little stains of spit that dot either corner of your mouth.

"Enough of that. On the desk."

You can't resist the way your thighs press together just a little bit more at the ghostly voice of Fordo in your head saying such things.

Not as if there was ever a single bit of hesitation in your mind, you quickly come up off your knees, standing in front of him in the small space between his chair and the desk. With one hop you move to sit on it and watch as he stands, filling the space between your thighs. His hips force them to spread wider, hands moving to grip your hips and pull you close enough that you teeter just on the edge, grinding against him. You can feel the weight of his cock against your thigh, slick with your own spit.

His own hand lines himself up with your entrance, the other still harshly gripping your hip as he slowly, slowly-

Suddenly, a voice interrupts you from your thoughts before you can continue with them.

"Captain Fordo is requesting you in his quarters. Something about your next mission."

Your head suddenly turns on a swivel, only to see a trooper standing in the doorway of your small barracks. He's delivered his order and takes his leave before you even have a chance to recover from your surprise.

You have to go, as much as you might want to finish up what you'd been in the middle of. You decide to just roughly jot down the rest of what's in your mind, just so you don't forget.

Throwing your legs off the side of the bunk they hit the ground with a soft thud. You've been there multiple times, but not for anything close to the lewdness you think up when it's late. He's probably just going to update you on some innocuous report, before then dismissing you. As much as you would hope it would be a little bit more exciting.

Arriving and opening the door to his quarters it's the exact same as the last time you'd been here; Sparce and devoid of anything beyond the bare necessities. Not uncommon, for clone quarters. Fordo is standing close to the small desk towards the side of the room, looking up when he notices you. The way he perks up slightly isn't lost on you, though he presumably is just surprised to see you here so quickly.

And in usual nature for Fordo, he's right to the point.

"We're exiting hyperspace soon. When we drop planetside, I'd like you to take sniper support. Since our usual is still in the medbay."

Seems simple enough. You nod, making a mental note to give your rifle a once over before you head out. Not that it needs it, but you enjoy the peace of mind the action gives you. Better safe then sorry.

"Sure thing. I'll be ready by then."

He expects no less than that from you, and you haven't let him down once yet. He watches you leave, the door closing behind you. He has no need to lock it, so instead he sits back down in his chair, leaning back ever so slightly. Dark brown eyes glance to the left, and notice something unfamiliar resting on the corner of the desk.

She left her datapad here? Picking it up Fordo glances over the unlocked screen, before deciding to take a look. He doesn't really see any innate harm from it, until he starts reading and realizes just what he's gotten into.

The flush of her skin, it feels so hot to the touch it might almost boil. His cock feels almost in her stomach, impossibly deep and stretching her perfectly. Every move he makes the sound of skin on armor echoes in the small, cold confines of the room, now filled with the scent of sex.

He's rough; You feel any harder and he's going to leave marks. On your hips, thighs, the way his teeth scrape against the exposed skin of your neck.

Fordo in all his stalwart nature falters, reading the lewd words you'd written up and feels his face getting a bit hot.

The edge of the desk digging into your stomach it's impossible not to hear the way it groans until the battering it's taking, as he fucks you almost into the desk itself. Your hands grip the edge like it's a lifeline, toes curling in your boots as you feel your own wet arousal slick against your outer lips and almost leaking down your inner thighs.

"F-For-" A rough thrust of his hips cuts off your words before you even have a chance to speak them. Your legs tighten around him even has the edges of his armor rub uncomfortably against your skin, but you're too foggy minded by the way he's fucking you to care in the slightest.

You'd slipped up; And while you'd avoided using any names through hundreds, even thousands of words, you forgot and habitually wrote his name in once.

It's... Enlightening.

Fordo has long thought his secret affections for you were largely nonsense and had relegated them to a secured lockbox at the back of his head, so to see that it seems to go both ways, he's nervous but, hopeful.

He keeps reading, and soon finds himself immersed in your daydreams like they're his own.

You get back to your barracks in record time, still apt to finish your little daydream before you have to purge it from your mind again. The light flicks on the moment it sees motion, walking in the direction of your bunk. But when you reach to grab your datapad and get back to your little moment of self indulgence, you notice that it's nowhere to be seen.

Oh shit.

Where is it? You swore you'd left it here when you had gone to talk to Fordo, but then you remember that it had been in your hands, and the only option is that you'd left it behind in his quarters.

Which is an actual nightmare scenario, considering what is on it. There's more than a fair share of things you'd never want anyone to see, let alone him. You just hope you can get it back, before he gets a little bit curious. As no matter how cut and by the rules Fordo is, curiosity is a tempting beast.

Bursting off the bunk you quickly race down the halls backtracking all the way to Fordo, where you quickly open the still unlocked door. Once you do, you see the red paint of his armor, along with something in his hands. It seems like your nightmare has come true, even as you speak as if attempting to see that you've misread what is happening in front of you.

"Fordo? What are you-" He gets up from his seat, still holding the piece of technology in his hands.

"You left this behind." Your entire body freezes up. You can tell by the way he isn't exactly meeting your gaze that he absolutely saw what was on it, at minimum what you were currently working on. Gently taking it from his hands you hold it close, pursing your lips.

"You are a very good writer. At least, as far as my experience goes." Fordo hasn't exactly had the time to read to many things beyond reports in his time.

He, decides not to bring up where he'd glossed over his name, but instead uses it as fuel to say something he'd been hoping to gather up the courage to do for quite awhile.

He'll have to keep it a secret but; Kriff it. He wants a day off. With you.

"When we're back planet side, how about we get a drink." You're still wide eyed holding your datapad close, but can't help but nod.

Well, this all turned out a bit different than you'd expected. Not that you're complaining.

"Yeah, sure. I'd like that."

#captain fordo x reader #the clone wars 2003 #Captain Fordo/Reader #reader insert #reader #mywriting

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skvaderarts · 2 years

Text

Petrichor Chapter 32: Prognosis

Chapter 32: Prognosis

Note: Here’s another late-night chapter! I hope you’ve all had a wonderful week and that you’ve liked the recent few chapters. Were very nearly done with this ark, but don’t worry. If you’ve still got any questions or requests, I’m here XD

(-~-)

The leftovers of what little food they had ordered had gone cold long before now, the twins looking at one another from opposite sides of the table as the conversation halted for the first time since it had begun. Vergil seemed to be hung up on something, perhaps a past memory that was too painful to speak of or even think about. There was a certain look in his eyes that told a story, even if it was one that he only vaguely understood. But he recognized it nonetheless. Something had surfaced and was causing him grief, his sudden lack of eye contact making that much clear.

Dante looked at his older twin in silence initially, unsure as to whether or not he should say anything. He clearly needed a little while alone with his thoughts. But after about 5 minutes, he decided that perhaps it was best that he reassessed whether or not his brother was going to finish the story. The only thing keeping them here for the time being was the retelling of events that he had taken the time out of their schedule to elaborate on. If the story was over, then it was time for them to move on, but Dante was positive that it probably wasn’t. "Is story time over already? Dang. And just when it was starting to get interesting…"

Vergil looked up at him, clearly knowing that despite the humorous tone he had spoken in that he did not mean that as a joke. He was clearly trying to break the ice that was forming between them, unsure as to what else he could say to something like that. It seemed that they both knew that this was the part of the story where things changed, for better or for worse. And Dante was willing to bet that he knew which type of turn this might take, considering what had led them to being in this old diner in an unfamiliar city discussing this in the first place.

"Hardly," Vergil answered with a resigned chuckle, a deep sadness in his eyes that Dante rarely saw. It was a melancholy sort of look, the kind that only came from a potent combination of grief, nostalgia, and the loss of something utterly precious. The kind of sad smile that didn't show in his eyes in the slightest. And for him to feel such profound loss, there had to be something to it, didn't there? He truly had cared about her once upon a time, hadn't he?

"So what did you do?" Dante asked earnestly, clearly quite invested in his older twin’s answer. He had no idea how his older twin would react in this kind of situation. And the last time he’d tried to get him to stay, well… that was a different situation altogether. Perhaps by that point in his life he’d been utterly done with trust. It had hurt him too deeply already for him to feel comfortable giving it another go.

"I stayed, of course," Vergil said, giving his younger twin an odd look that made it clear that he didn’t fully understand the context or wording of the question. He seemed simultaneously confused as to why his brother would ask him a question with such an obvious answer and why he was even bothering to answer it. "V would not exist otherwise."

Dante shook his head and leaned forward slightly, realizing that perhaps he should have worded that differently. Perhaps he should clarify. Vergil probably thought that he was missing a few brain cells right about now. "Well yea, of course I know that. I mean what happened after that?"

Vergil paused for a moment before nodding a singular time; whether to acknowledge Dante’s response or to confirm something to himself was unclear. But either way, that seemed to have cleared things up for him. After all, to say that they’d struggled with communication in the past would be a comical understatement. They still did. That was something that would probably never change or fully go away. One of the major differences now was that they were actually trying. That much couldn’t be said a lot of the time in the past.

"Several small occurrences that are not worth mentioning in detail. A few instances of us making our shared home our own and settling in together. Doing mundane things that I found impossibly pointless and droll at the time but now long for in retrospect. But… " Something seemed to pop into his mind very suddenly, a certain light returning to his eyes that had fled him during the breadth of their conversation. Something akin to a soft smile spread across his face as he seemed to recall a bittersweet memory. Dante could practically see the waves of emotions that overcame him as he spoke, lingering in the past. ''There is one occasion that comes to mind."

Leaning forward and placing both of his hands on the table, Dante nodded, his interest piqued and his attention fixed upon this topic. Vergil was obviously recalling something very personal, something that they'd probably never shared with another soul in his entire life. And Dante wanted to be the one that he felt he could talk to. Ever since they’d started talking things out, it was something that Dante desperately wanted to maintain. A little scrap here and there was fun, but when it came to the important things, Dante just wanted his brother to know that he wasn’t alone in the darkness stabbing uselessly at shadows anymore.

"All right then. Now you've got my attention. Let's hear it."

The Darkslayer turned slowly to look out of the window. The glass had fogged up and a light rain was hitting the pavement just beyond that barrier that kept them dry inside of this musty old diner. But it was letting up significantly. They would soon leave. It was time that they got down to brass tacks.

"I suppose you could call it the beginning of the end considering how things turned out. Though in hindsight, that was far from clear. Neither of us could have guessed it would go the way it did. It was the least of our concerns." Vergil said softly as he glanced back over at Dante, his mind obviously a thousand heartbroken miles away.

"Trouble in Paradise, hu?" Dante mused sympathetically, a somewhat bittersweet smirk upon his face. He figured that probably wasn’t the case, but it hopefully didn’t hurt to ask. His brother didn’t seem bothered by the inquiry either way.

"Far from it. You'll see what I mean once I elaborate further." Was all that Vergil said, sighing softly as he allowed himself to slide down into something of a slump as the side of his face pressed against the cold, damp glass. His posture was looser than normal, but he was still clearly very alert and cognizant. Even in this state, nothing was going to escape his notice.

Dante leaned back in his seat again, nodding in confirmation. Perhaps it was best to simply let his brother tell the story and not ask any further questions for the time being. Making guesses wasn't getting him anywhere, it seemed. And besides, if his brother's retelling of events up until now was anything to go by, this was going to be an interesting, if not possibly quite upsetting, story. He was in no hurry to have it end.

"Whenever you're ready, Vergil. I’m not going anywhere."

Vergil looked up at him, his eyes filled with a level of pain and sadness that actually stole his brother’s breath away upon beholding it. His own breathing was shallow and infrequent, his focus clearly on what he was about to say. And Dante knew in that instant that whatever that something was would tell him more than he’d probably ever expected. They were getting to the root of something very important. What that something was, he couldn’t say just yet. But this was important. I defining moment in his brother’s life. This was the moment when something in him had changed forever.

(-~-)

The forecast predicted light breezes and warm weather, mid-October bringing with it a manager of colors and smells. Everywhere around town there were signs advertising upcoming apple-picking opportunities at orchards and pumpkin patches that were ready to yield large batches of orange gourds that would be wasted on jack lanterns instead of delicious pie. The smell of pumpkin spice and cinnamon was everywhere, and opportunities for fall clothing had made themselves apparent. And here they were, enjoying perhaps the last warm days of the season in the comfort of one another's presence, the better part of a year having elapsed since they'd met one another.

Vivienne had insisted upon coming out here today by the lake just outside of town so that she could make him drink apple cider and they could enjoy the weather together while it still held out. They’d even seen a few deer as they'd made their way down to the waterside, few people bothering to venture towards the shoreline of a lake when it was growing chillier outside. But to be fair, both of them had dressed for the occasion. Vivienne had worn her favorite faux fur boots with a loose sweater dress and knit leggings, never passing up on the opportunity to cover her entire body in knitted fabrics. She simply loved the feel of soft, warm fabric, and it was her time to shine.

Vergil has simply settled on a turtle neck and black pants, the fact that the garment was navy blue surprising quite literally no one. Vivienne had actually started to buy him garments in that color, finding that she quite liked the hue on him. She herself wore predominantly gray and black with a smattering of green and burnt orange. Some people thought that those colors were only in style once a year and should only be worn during the fall, but then again, she didn’t like those people so…

But as they’d made themselves comfortable by the waterside and Vergil sipped on the apple cider that she’d insisted upon making out of some of the apples she’d taken him to pick last week at a local orchard (and that he begrudgingly had to admit that he actually really liked, even if he wasn’t sure why) she turned to him and blew him a little kiss, the man in blue giving her an amused but curious glance. Despite having been together now for about 6 months, they rarely showed anything in the way of physical affection to one another. Vergil didn’t exactly cuddle, and Vivienne wasn’t clingy. They were more or less content to just enjoy one another’s company and have polite, if not thoroughly nerdy conversations about various niche topics with the occasional hug thrown in for flavor. But Vivienne had slowly developed a habit of blowing him kisses when she wanted his undivided attention. And with almost guaranteed predictability she usually got exactly what she wanted. Vergil was always willing to humor her.

She was certainly the more extroverted of the two of them, even if what that truly meant wasn’t fully clear. They were both happy to stay within the walls of their home, among warmth and quietude. Introversion suited them mutually. Vivienne enjoyed greeting people and making sure that they were comfortable, but that didn’t mean she wanted to be surrounded by people at all times.

“I think I speak for us both when I say that honesty is important between us.” She said as she looked at Vergil, a barely concealed look of excitement upon her face. This was enough in itself to pique Vergil’s attention. She was rarely visibly excited, her childlike excitement evident. She couldn’t hide the fact that she was building up to something if she tried, and she clearly was.

“You would be correct, yes.” He said, his tone perhaps giving away his own amusement. He knew that she was up to something, and he got the impression that she was starting to figure out that he probably knew that she was up to something. And as a result, they both sat there and just looked at one another, the eldest Son of Sparda quietly eager to find out what she was about to tell him and her obviously excited that get to that part of the conversation. “What are you up to? What well-crafted scheme of yours have I stumbled into?”

Vivienne giggled, shaking her head. She seemed somewhat nervous, perhaps even anxious, and her laughter only highlighted this. But she was clearly more excited than anything else. Perhaps she was hopeful that he was going to like whatever it was that she was about to say. “I have news, Vergil.“

“And this news would be… ?” He was certain that she was going to tell him that she was planning to open another branch of her bakery or something of the sort. Her business had actually been doing quite well, and her involvement was mostly hands-off, though she still helped out when she could. She’d told him that baking was only one of her passions, and being able to spend time pursuing her other interests instead of getting up early and working late constantly had been an exhilarating change of pace. She’d taken a long while to adjust, but she couldn’t be more pleased by the results so far.

She looked around as though she were checking to see if they were alone before continuing to speak, her expression not unlike a teenager telling her best friend a deep, dark secret that she couldn’t trust with anyone else. He secured the lid to his now empty thermos before setting it aside and leaning closer to her, the young woman with the vibrant red hair adjusting her loose camel-colored peacoat as she waved for him to come close. She then gently grasped both of his hands and turned bright red as she looked him in the eyes, the Darkslayer noticing for the first time that something was different about her. Something that he couldn’t quite place. Her aura was just… off. Just as pleasant as it had ever been but noticeably different.

Perhaps he should ask if something was wrong when they returned home. She’d been rather fragile lately, her energy reserves seemingly depleted. He’d initiated upon carrying the blanket they were sitting on down here for her for that very reason, reasoning that if she was in charge of the picnic basket that he had to do something to make himself feel less useless. She’d been sleeping a bit later than she normally did, and she’d told him that she’d made a doctor's appointment to find out if perhaps she needed more vitamins or something of the sort. But to his knowledge, that appointment was later the same week. She hadn’t told him she’d gone yet, at the very least.

“I wanted to thank you for telling me before we decided to enter a relationship with one another that you weren’t entirely human. You didn’t have to, but I can’t say that I would’ve thought any less of you if you hadn’t. Some things are very personal and hard or dangerous to discuss, so I can never thank you enough for trusting me with something so personal and giving me the benefit of the doubt. For being so vulnerable with me.”

Vergil gave her a slightly softer look, a slight blush covering his cheeks. He’d been hesitant to talk about it initially, not out of shame, but out of an overabundance of caution. But over time he’d managed to find ways to approach the topic with her, and as such, she probably knew more about him than anyone else. It was something he struggled with at times, but he didn’t regret it. “I… Thank you for understanding that.”

She looked more anxious then, her eyes averting. But after a few heavy, deep breaths she managed to compose herself, closing her eyes and exhaling slowly as she shook slightly. She then locked eyes with him again, her grip on his hands a little tighter as though she were afraid that he’d abandon her. “I… have something very important to tell you.”

“Have I done something wrong again?” He asked, expecting her to tell him that he’d forgotten to do something important or overlooked a deadline of some sort that he was supposed to remember. He was normally quite proficient at such tasks, but they did still manage to slip his mind, especially when he was around her. He lost hours at a time just watching her sit by the window, reading a book or sketching whatever took her fancy. He could absolutely believe that he’d completely forgotten to do something important.

“That depends on how you take what I’m about to tell you. I certainly don’t think you have.” She giggled again, this time in a way that made it clear that she was making a joke that had clearly gone over his head. She giggled harder when she saw how confused he truly was. “And the process of how we arrived here was certainly enjoyable, at least it was for me.”

“What’s going on?” Vergil said calmly, obviously still perplexed but not in the mood to guess. In his experience, it was better to just ask than to make assumptions.

“Vergil… I went to the doctor yesterday… ” She started, clearly nervous to say what she was about to say. And the look in his eyes and the immediate shift in his demeanor told her that this particular prediction was not incorrect. She’d assumed he might be concerned, and it seemed that she wasn’t mistaken after all. And she wasn’t sure if that was a good or a bad thing.

“Are you ill?” Was that what was so different about her today? How had he possibly missed that she might be under the weather? And did that explain the sudden dizziness and lethargy she’d been suffering from? His brow furrowed, his own grip on her small hands tightening slightly. Now he was worried. This could be dreadful news and he didn’t know how to even begin to process that. “What can we do?”

She released one of his hands and raised hers to his face, gently brushing it across his cheek before allowing it to fall to his shoulder. She then cleared her throat of the horseness that had suddenly settled in it and gave him a serious but excited look.

“I’m not sick, actually. I’m pregnant.”

Every brain cell and gear in his head died and locked up all at once. He didn’t even notice the light sprinkle that was starting to pick up, dampening the blanket that they sat on. She’d genuinely just said the last thing that he ever imagined he’d hear someone say to him. Well, at least in a way that directly affected him. He… he could hardly believe it.

“You’re… What?” He was looking at her as though she were speaking a foreign language that he'd never heard before.

“Pregnant, Vergil. Preg-” Before she could finish speaking, Vergil gently pushed her onto her back on the top of the blanket, embracing her and, for the first time that she could ever recall, instigating a kiss. She was genuinely so shocked that she didn’t know what to do initially until he pulled away, perhaps thinking that he might have harmed her or overstepped. He’d never done that before, after all.

“I apologize if I’ve-” It was her turn to interrupt him, the woman with the fiery red hair pulling him into a tight embrace where words were not needed. They stayed that way for several minutes, heedless of the way that the wind and rain were picking up until they came up for air, both of them drenched and cold. It had been fun while it lasted.

“Is this something that you… “ Vergil started, perhaps unsure as to how to even bring up this topic. But he could see by the excitement on her face that he probably hadn’t needed to inquire. She nodded, smiling and nodding furiously as he pulled her into his arms, tucking his head onto the back of her shoulder. He then held her close, utterly in disbelief as to what he’d just been told. He would have never considered that he of all people would be…

“Then I am happy. If not in shock. I… ” He shook his head, chuckling breathlessly. He honestly didn’t know if he was dreaming or not. It just didn’t seem real. Was this really happening? He could hardly believe it. “I’m not sure how to process this. This will be… Interesting, to say the least. But I welcome the challenge.”

She giggled deep in her chest, nodding as she pulled back and kissed him again, both of them soaked through to the bone now. It was probably time to get going. “I do, too! We’ve… we’ve got so much to talk about. Neither of us expected this to happen, but I think It’s going to be wonderful! But let's do it at home, hm? I’m a little cold. And wet.”

Vergil looked up at the rain, finally taking in just how rapid of a turn this was taking. Yes, it was probably best that they go. He nodded and then the two of them began gathering up everything, Vergil insisting upon carrying some of the heavier items before being dissuaded by Vivienne. She wasn’t helpless. Far from it.

“Don’t start. I’ll let you know when I need your help. You’ll get you’re moment. I promise.” She said softly, as she held the picnic basket. She didn’t really even mind that they were both soaked through and freezing. She didn’t mind the mud on her favorite boots or the grass covering the blanket that would be a pain to get up. She was just happy that he wanted to do this with her. And she was so excited. They both were.

He looked at her, opening a portal with Yamato to expedite their departure. There was no way that they were taking the long way back. Not soaking wet with a heavy, wet blanket. And most certainly not with a storm approaching. “And I shall be there when you do. That is a promise.”

(-~-)

I don’t know about you all, but I love rainy weather so today had been great! I also had a major personal breakthrough about something extremely important, so there's that. But I have a big bowl of soup, some hot tea, and a warm blanket, so I couldn’t be happier either way. Enjoy your day and this chapter. Wishing you all a great weekend!

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danses-with-dogmeat · 3 years

Note

Howdy! I got an ask/react for the Fo4 companions! How would a romanced companion react to Sole (preferably female) doing things to make them feel 'stronger' or 'protective' over her? Some random examples: Sole "can't" open something and has to ask for help/Sole conveniently forgets her overcoat when she knows it's going to be cold out, etc. the little things :) (Extra thing: you don't have to but if you could go into a bit more depth for Deacon and Hancock's response that'd be great :D )

Okay, this was so. much. fun. I took a few... creative liberties with the prompt, but I hope it’s still in the realm of what you were looking for! And, of course, thank you so much for the ask! I hope you like it!

Cait:

Sole pressed a cold cloth to Cait's cheekbone, and she hissed at the pressure of the contact on her swollen cheek.

"Shit, sorry, Cait."

"Eh, I've had worse licks than this."

"I know, but still… this one is definitely my fault."

"It's hardly yer fault, luv, I'm the one who got meself inte this."

"How? I'm the one who started the fight." Sole protested, pulling her hand back so she could look her companion in the eye.

"Maybe, but I'm the one who gave you yer drinkin’ problem, and that's what got us inte the fight in the first place." Sole chuckled at that, shaking her head. The two had had this discussion what seemed like a hundred times, both trying to take the blame for the constant slew of bar fights that they found themselves getting into.

Tonight, it had been four intoxicated men who had decided it was a neat idea to discuss the details of what they’d do to Cait if they could get her drunk enough. While the redhead hadn’t seemed to hear, Sole had briskly made her way over to the group to give her two cents on these ideas of theirs. So, Cait had a point, maybe if Sole hadn’t had quite so much whiskey, she could’ve tried to solve the problem more... verbally. But alas, her confrontation had officially started with her fist landing at the temple of the man nearest to her, effectively knocking him out. And it had ended with Cait hauling Sole to her feet after disposing of the man’s companions.

Cait picked absent-mindedly at the scabs forming on her knuckles as Sole brought the wet rag up to her face once more, dabbing at the blood next to Cait's lip.

"God, how is it that you always end up with the injuries? All I got was a bruise to the cheek, and yet, here you are, looking like a human punching bag."

"I can tell ya that. It's cus it's always me rushin' in te save your arse. Why do you always take on more than ye can handle?" Sole snickered, not knowing if Cait found her own words as amusing as she had.

"Because, I know no matter how many assholes I take on, you'll always be there to save me." Cait made a disgusted sound, rolling her eyes at that, much like Sole thought she would, before letting her emerald gaze meet Sole's eyes.

"I wish you weren't, but yer damn right." Cait said, and Sole felt a little jump in her chest at the sentiment. Cait wasn’t the most tender person in the wasteland, but somehow, she always seemed to know what to say; to Sole, anyway.

The pair sat silently for a bit as Sole finished cleaning up her defender. Wiping down her bloodied hands, and the remainder of the crusted crimson on her face.

"Are ya done fussin yet? I'm tellin’ you, I'm fine. Can we just go te sleep already?"

"One more spot left." She told her, bringing the rag up to her bruised face once more. Sole's eyes fell to Cait's swollen lips as she drew the cool fabric over them, before leaning in to press her mouth softly to Cait's. Sole pulled away, but stayed close enough for Cait to feel her warm, whiskey-tinged breath fan over her as she whispered,

"Thank you for saving me tonight. I really was way in over my head." Sole looked down, embarrassed at her admission, as Cait smiled at her.

"It was my pleasure, luv. As you said, I'll always be there te save yer arse."

Curie:

"You know, you don't have to come to me for something as small as zhis." Curie said as she examined the minor cut on Sole’s arm. “You could patch zhis up yourself easily!”

“Well…” Sole felt heat rise to her cheeks as she searched for an explanation. She knew that every time she came to Curie for something like this, she was taking up the doctor’s precious time, but she couldn’t help herself. What was she supposed to do when Curie insisted on working all day when they were at a settlement? They usually came to settlements to relax, to help make repairs and look into any problems the settlers might be having, but Curie always insisted on doing check-ups for everyone in their vicinity. Sole loved her selflessness and dedication to her work, but… When were they supposed to spend time together? This is what I get for having a workaholic for a girlfriend.

“You know, infection is a big problem out here. I just thought it would be best to seek the help of a professional.”

“Oh, of course, of course. How responsible of you.” Sole bit at her lip as Curie laughed at her. Well, she really has caught onto the whole ‘sarcasm’ thing.

“Fortunately, you do not need to worry about infection in zhis, it iz not deep. But come here, with me.” Curie urged Sole off of the cot she was seated on and brought her to a table at the back of the clinic.

“Wait here, se vous plait.” With that, Curie disappeared around the corner, and Sole stood around, twiddling her thumbs, as she tried to think of an excuse to get Curie off of work early.

“I was going to clean my supplies with zhis, but we can do your arm first.” Curie said as she came around the corner, a bucket of soapy water in-hand.

“Here.” Curie set the bucket onto the table and had Sole hold out her arm as she produced a clean rag from the pocket of her lab coat, and dunked it into the warm water. Sole watched as Curie wrung out the cloth, and brought it to the miniscule wound on her arm.

It was comical, really, the care that Curie took in cleaning the cut that couldn’t have been more than an inch long, and was almost too thin to see. Another rush of heat made its way to Sole’s cheeks as she realized how ridiculous she must seem to the doctor, but Curie made no complaints as she used the other side of the rag to dry off her arm.

“Zhere! It should be all better. I can wrap it for you too, if you’d like.”

“Thanks Curie, you’re a lifesaver. But I don’t think you really need to wrap it.” The synth laughed at her as she threw the rag into a basket and picked up the bucket again.

“Oh, mon dieu, I don’t know about zhat.” She shook her head, a pink tint coming to her pale cheeks at Sole’s flattery as she turned to go into the back of the clinic again.

“Wait!” Sole said, reaching out her “good” arm to stop Curie before she could vanish around the corner once more. Curie looked at her, a questioning expression on her face. Sole stood, her hand still wrapped around Curie’s forearm, utterly at a loss of what to say. I just don’t want you to go. It’ll be another four hours until you get off.

I think you should take a break?

Maybe you should have a half day?

Do you need some help here at the clinic? God, when did I become so damn clingy?

“Hmm.” Curie’s eyes pierced into Sole’s as a knowing look washed over her face. “I zhink I know what it is you want.” Sole just stared ahead, wondering silently if that were true. The doctor set down the bucket yet again, delicately taking a hold of Sole’s “injured” arm once more. Slowly, she brought it upwards, then lowered her head to place her lips gently over the cut. “Iz zhat better?”

Sole giggled, still embarrassed, but definitely glad she had come to interrupt Curie’s work. I guess I can wait a little longer. Maybe make us a nice dinner for tonight...

“Much. Thanks again, Curie.”

“Of course! Anytime, mon amour.”

Danse:

Sole sat at the kitchen table, draining the last of her coffee as her gaze fell to Danse, where he was seated on the steps outside the front door of her Sanctuary home. He stared ahead blankly, brows knitted together above his lusterless eyes as his hands worked to remove a spot of rust from a piece of power armor he had taken off his suit temporarily. Lately, the ex-paladin had been adept in putting on a show for Sole, making her think that he was okay, even after everything that had changed in his life over the course of a few hours. It had been over a week since he had found out about his true identity, and in that time, Sole could tell that he had tried to remain strong. For whom, she wasn’t sure. She thought she had made it clear to him that she didn’t care about his “strength” in these times, she just wanted him to get through them, whatever the means. Yet, he only seemed to don this look of despair and hopelessness whenever he thought she wasn’t looking, and if she tried to bring it up, he would always attempt to change the subject, or he would tell her not to worry and simply say that he was still working on “adjusting.”

She hated when he didn’t talk to her. The seemingly insensitive man was always happy to listen to Sole’s problems and offer what advice he could, often suggesting that she discuss her own issues as a form of therapy. But God forbid she tries to get him to do the same. Sole sighed as she mulled over what to do, and noticed Danse’s head twitch to the side, listening, before his gaze dropped down to focus on his task.

He’s been working on that same spot for almost an hour. If it’s not out yet, I don’t think it ever will be. Sole looked around the room, trying to find something that could possibly serve as a proper distraction for Danse, and her eyes fell to the wooden stereo below the window in the living room. She had left it there because she simply didn’t have the heart to scrap the old thing. Too many good memories surrounded it. Memories of her and Nate, dancing the night away as the records spun on and on playing soft love songs until the sun rose; of her rocking Shaun in her arms as she mosied around the living room, listening to the nursery rhyme vinyls that she had received as gifts at her baby shower... But those memories, they were from another life.

Sole shook her head. This is about him, she thought, not me. I can deal with my shit later. Right now, I need to focus on Danse.

She huffed another sigh, this time a bit louder, and watched as Danse ceased his hand movements and tilted his ear towards her again.

“Is everything alright?” He turned to look at where she sat, and Sole tried to look melancholic.

“It’s just… You know… nevermind, it’s not important.” Just as she assumed he would, Danse stood up and walked inside the house, setting the piece of armor and the rag on the table, and pulled out a chair so he could sit beside her. He looked down at her hands, which rested on top of the table near her empty coffee mug. She could practically see the sweat beading on his forehead as he hesitantly brought one of his large hands to rest over the top of her own. Ever since he found out what he was, he’s been afraid to touch me. So... this is a good sign, at least.

“If something’s wrong, I want to know.” He said as he looked up to meet her gaze, his worried expression matching the concern she was feeling towards him. Sole took a breath to appear as though she was steadying herself.

“It’s just… being in this house. It’s great, I mean, it’s still my home and everything, and I don’t want to go anywhere else, but…” she trailed off, her troubled expression only half-feigned at this point, given the truth behind her words. His eyes never wavered, silently encouraging her to continue.

“Some things are harder to look at than others. And that damn stereo over there just has to be staring straight at me every time I sit down at the table, it’s the hardest one for me to see. It's just, it was a house-warming present from my parents. They gave it to me and Nate after the wedding, and now… well, there are no more records to play on it. They were all ruined, and even if they weren't, I don’t think the thing would work anyway. But every time I see it, it reminds me of the people I’ve lost. My parents… Nate… even Shaun.” Sole didn’t have to fake the tears that came unbidden to her eyes as she recalled the memories of her loved ones, and she knew Danse hadn’t missed a thing when he started rubbing her hand softly with his. They sat there in silence for a moment, as Danse tried to reassure her with his gentle touch.

Then, still remaining silent, Danse stood, reaching his hand forward to brush his thumb over Sole’s cheek, wiping away the tear that had fallen. He then turned towards the living room, but instead of going straight to the stereo, as Sole thought he might, Danse opened the side door that led to the covered driveway. She watched as he doubled back, now approaching the stereo. Sole wasn’t sure what she had expected him to do when she mentioned her problem to him; maybe offer to help her take the thing apart, or try and see if it still worked, or simply give her another perspective on how she should view the piece of 200-year-old furniture. Whatever she expected, it certainly hadn’t been this.

Danse squatted down in front of the large wooden beast of a stereo, wrapped his broad arms almost all the way around it, and stood, lifting the whole damn thing up until he was standing completely upright with the stereo held firmly to his chest. Sole’s mouth hung open as she remained seated at the table, seemingly paralyzed by the shock of what she was witnessing, as Danse sauntered awkwardly towards the exit. A thick vein protruded from his neck as he twisted the piece of furniture to fit through the door, and made his way out into the driveway.

Sole heard a groan from outside, accompanied by the sound of something hard hitting concrete. She stood up, prepared to head outside and see what exactly he’d done with her “problem,” but before she reached the doorway, she heard him call from outside,

“You can’t still see it, can you?”

“Um… no. But Danse, is it-- I mean, are you okay? It took like, four people to bring that thing in when we first moved it to the house.” The brawny ex-soldier appeared in the doorway, his chest still heaving from the effort of wrestling the wooden monster outside. He nodded to her,

“I'm fine." He huffed, "You don’t need to go out there. I’ll take it apart later, if you’d like. Or we can store it somewhere for the time being.” She shook her head at him, a little smile touching her lips. Even after everything he’s been through, he's still always looking out for me. Even with something as small and insignificant as this.

“You know,” she said quietly, “you didn’t have to do that.” Danse looked down at his feet, seemingly searching for something to say in response.

“But thank you.” Sole finished, and his eyes came back up to meet hers. For a moment, she saw a spark return to Danse’s amber eyes as the smallest hint of a smile softened his expression, and Sole felt hope. Hope for him overcoming his grief in this time of crisis, and hope for herself in being able to move on from the memories that had kept her chained to her past for so long. Together, she felt like the two of them could overcome anything.

Deacon:

“Yes. Two please.” Sole said as Takahashi voiced the only question he ever seemed to ask. The robot placed two bowls of scrumptious smelling power noodles in front of her, and she reached for the bag of caps hanging from her belt. As she looked down to count her money, she heard a clatter of bottlecaps hitting the counter beside her.

“Got it covered. Come on, let’s dig in.” Deacon grabbed a bowl in each hand and headed over to a couple of empty seats at the bar.

“I thought you were still trying to stay undercover?" Sole gestured to the Diamond City guard outfit that the spy donned. "Doesn’t it kinda ruin the illusion if you’re seen in public with me?” She said as she followed him over, sealing up her cap purse once again.

“What? You’ve never seen one of these guys at the noodle stand? Cuz I sure have. Just don’t talk to me, and I’ll be good.” Sole shook her head as she took a seat beside him, instantly deciding to ignore his request.

“Hey officer, I’ve got a question.” Sole swirled her chopsticks around the steaming bowl in front of her, before taking a bite.

“Yes, citizen?”

“Hold on--” she said through a mouthful of noodles.

Deacon laughed as he looked at her full mouth,

“Why--” He tried to talk through his bout of chuckling, “Why would you say you’re going to ask me a question and then take a big bite of food? What did you think would happen?”

Deacon thought he heard her tell him to ‘shut up,’ but it was hard to tell, given the noodles that filled her mouth, and the fact that she was nearly choking in her own fit of laughter.

Eventually, she managed to swallow her food successfully, and was finally able to get some words out.

"No, okay, serious question--" Deacon interrupted her with a snap of his fingers,

"Serious answer." Her genuine curiosity forced Sole to ignore him, and continue with her question.

"Tell me, why do you always pay for everything?" She asked.

"Ma'am, I am a law-abiding security officer. I always pay for the products that I intend to consume."

"I said serious, Deacon."

"Hey, shush!" He brought a hand up to Sole's mouth at the mention of his name, "What part of undercover did you not get?" She cocked a brow at his faked panic expression, noting the grin that he was trying to hide, as he lowered his head and turned back to his noodles.

"Like, okay," she continued, expanding on her inquiry, "whenever we go anywhere, you always pay for everything, and it's really odd. I've never met anyone in the wasteland who's done that, everyone's too busy trying to keep themselves alive to worry about paying for others. So, what? Are you, like, rich or something? I mean, c'mon, what's the deal? I have caps on me all the time, you know that, right?"

"Oh?" Sole saw his eyebrows rise above the tops of his sunglasses as he turned to look at her, "you don't think I'm doing this out of the goodness of my cold, black, heart, do you? No, I'm running a tab over here, honey. You owe me, big time." Sole narrowed her eyes at him, her uncertainty keeping her lips sealed.

"You mean, you didn’t know? Look, I don't know what to tell you," Deacon continued, "I thought you knew! Man, I'm glad you found out this way. Now it won't be such a rude awakening when the invoice comes."

Deacon turned back to his noodles, shaking his head at the thought. Sole's gaze bore into him, trying to figure out his level of seriousness. I really wish I was better at this. This is why I believed he was a synth for a month and a half.

"And if I don't have the money… you're not gonna call out a hit on me or anything, are you?"

“Hmm," he brought a hand to his chin, stroking his finger over it animatedly, "surely there must be some way you could pay me back…” He turned to look at her, wiggling his eyebrows as he did so, and she rolled her eyes, looking back to her noodles as she scoffed.

"Hey! What's with the face! I was talking about community service. Y'know, helping the children, and the elderly, all that good stuff. Get your mind out of the gutter, perv. And to think, I was going to have you volunteering at the children's hospital next week."

Sole instantly regretted taking another bite, as she tried desperately to fend off a fit of giggling in an effort to keep from choking again.

"I can't keep up with you Deacon," she said as she swallowed her food. "You're gonna kill me one of these days."

"Eh, don't worry, I can pay for the funeral." Sole raised a hand and shoved him in the shoulder playfully as he grinned at her.

"Okay, really, though. You do know I can pay occasionally, right?"

"Yeah, I know, I'm your partner, remember? I'm pretty much right next to you whenever you get paid.”

"So… then, why do you do it?"

"Do what?" Sole's nostrils flared at his obnoxious question.

"No? Joke didn’t land? Okay. Serious time," he flung his hands in the air as if surrendering, "I read about something… wasn't it, like, customary before the war to pay for stuff for your… friends?" Sole scrunched her eyebrows in thought,

"Friends? Not really. Significant other? Yeah, a little more common." She looked to where Deacon stared down at his noodles.

Is that, is he... blushing?

"But hey, I don't mind if you don't." She finished, tilting her head forward, in an attempt to catch Deacon's eye. She spotted a flushed little grin spread on his face, before he leaned his head back, restoring his cool composure.

"Oopsies, sorry about that, then. But I did warn you, I'm pretty new to this whole friend thing. So… you know, that's on you."

Hancock:

The ghoul lounged comfortably on the couch in the Old State House, idly playing with his combat knife as he waited for Sole to finish readying herself for their outing.

“Ahhh!”

Hancock leapt from his place on the couch at the sound of Sole’s shriek, his combat knife instinctively falling into a position poised for violence.

He ran across the hall, crashing through the door and into the bedroom. Teeth bared and eyes wide, his head lashed from side to side in search of Sole’s assailant. He spotted her, cowering in the corner as she raised a shaky hand to point at the opposite side of the room.

Hancock’s glare followed Sole’s fear-stricken gaze, and he started towards the desk in the corner she had pointed to, but ultimately failed to see what it was causing her distress.

He turned back to her, an eyebrow cocked, as he raised the silent question of what had been the cause of her terror.

“On the desk!” She said, pointing towards it again, this time with greater intensity. Hancock slowly approached the corner of the room, knife still at the ready, as his eyes continued to search for any sign of… well, anything, really. An exasperated smile spread across his lips as his eyes fell to your attacker. A small, brown, spider picked its way through the objects littering the top of the desk, and Hancock had to hold back a laugh.

“This is what had you all riled up? Oh, sweetheart, he’s just a little spider. C’mon now, he won’t hurt ya.”

“You don't know that.” She said firmly, her round eyes still trained on the desk. It had sounded like a joke, but her expression remained serious.

“Alright, you want me to get rid of him for you?” She nodded her head vigorously, and he chuckled as he turned his attention to the unsuspecting arachnid. He watched as it delicately stepped over a series of writing utensils, and Hancock frowned. Bringing his knife up to the top of the desk, he rested the flat of his blade directly in the spider’s path,

“That’s it, up you go, little guy.” He said quietly, as it stepped onto his steel vessel. Hancock twisted the knife around in his grip as the spider crawled around it, and made his way to the balcony. Once outside, he tipped his knife to the railing, encouraging the spider to crawl off the tip of the blade. Once the spider was safely making its way along the top of the railing, Hancock turned back towards the doorway.

“There,” he said, stepping back inside, “Now he can’t hurt ya, he’s all the way out there.”

“You… you didn’t kill it?” She asked, tentatively standing up.

“Nah, we only hurt the ones who hurt somebody else first, remember?”

“You don’t know that he didn’t hurt anybody.” She mumbled as Hancock sauntered over to her.

“Aw, give him a chance, maybe he can change, y’know? He doesn't really seem like the troublemaking type to me, anyhow.” He brought his hands to your waist, a smug expression playing on his face.

“Oh yeah, just like the way you always tell people you’ve changed?” She said, sliding her hands up his chest to rest them on his shoulders. “Way I see it, you’re still just as bad an influence on me as when I met you.” She said, a playful glint dancing in her eyes.

“Hmm, maybe you’re right, sunshine. Maybe I can't change any more. Maybe it's just my nature to be a bad influence on you.” He said quietly, a wolfish grin spreading across his face as he leaned into her.

“Huh, maybe so. But bad influence or not," she pulled away from him slightly, to look up into his smoky eyes, "you really did save me back there. And, I know it seems silly... but I am grateful." His eyes softened at her little confession and, though he knew this too was silly, he couldn’t help but feel a swell in his chest at the thought of "saving" her.

“And I’ll always be here to save you... from any spiders we happen to come across.” He pecked her lips tenderly, their close proximity practically forcing his mouth to hers. He should’ve known better, once he had a taste, he couldn’t get enough of her.

“Even though,” He continued, as he pressed a kiss to her nose, “I’ve seen you,” then to her right cheek, “take down,” now her left, “deathclaws,” another to her jaw, “single handedly,” and now down to her neck, “I’ll be sure to handle all the unruly arachnids.” He whispered into the crook of her neck, before moving upwards again and pressing one more kiss to her forehead. He watched, grinning like an idiot in love, as a crimson flush crept up her cheeks. He wasn’t sure if it was from the embarrassment she felt regarding her phobia, or from the heat of his lips on her skin, but he decided it didn’t matter. Either way, he found it irresistibly adorable, and with that, he set his sights on her lips once more.

MacCready:

MacCready sat on the floor, legs crossed, as he counted his ammunition cartridges. There were four of the .308, six of the .50, ten of the 10mm, and a few of the .38. There certainly wasn’t as much as he’d hoped there’d be, but he wasn't worried. Sole always seemed to have ammo to spare, and she wasn't stingy with it like he was. It was yet another perk to being with her.

He gathered his full magazines together near the ammo bag resting beside him, so he could begin placing them inside in preparation for their next outing.

"How are you doing over there, babe?" He asked as he stored the outlying bullets in little bags.

"I think... you know what, nevermind. I'm good." MacCready ceased his action, turning to look at where Sole knelt on the carpet of her Diamond City home. A pile of bullets and empty magazines surrounded her, the stack of seemingly full cartridges was pitifully small compared to his own.

"You, ah, need some help?"

"... No.”

"Mmhm, okay.” he narrowed his eyes at her suspiciously, but she wouldn’t look up at him.

“Well,” he continued, “I'm going to put my full mags in the ammo bag, why don't I grab yours too." The sniper stood up, and made his way over to her, bending down to grab the cartridges that looked full.

"Wait! No, these, um, these ones aren't done yet." MacCready's eyebrows furrowed, but the shadow of a smile began to spread to his lips as he realized what was going on.

"So," he said, kneeling down so he could see her pretty little embarrassed face. "You haven't finished loading any of them?"

“No." She said quietly, refusing to meet his gaze. MacCready lowered his head so that he was looking up at her as her eyes stayed fixed on the floor. A lock of hair was draped over her forehead, obstructing his view. He reached a hand up and gently pushed it behind her ear, leaning in to give her nose a small peck with his lips.

"You want some help?" He said as Sole raised her gaze to meet his, a small blush forming on her cheeks. She didn't say anything, only nodded yes.

"Alright, you know, you could’ve just asked. I might have said ‘no’ the first time, but you know me, I eventually would’ve come around." MacCready said as he set to work with the magazines that had appeared full, but in reality, only housed half of the amount of ammunition that they could fit within them. He snickered in understanding, it really was the second half of bullets that was hard to load.

"Thank you, sweetie. You’re just so much better at it than I am." She said as she watched his practiced fingers make quick work of what probably would've taken her another hour.

"Of course... but, you are paying me for this, right?"

"Ohh, I think we might be able to work something out." She said, a sly grin playing at her lips.

He just chuckled at her words, but she could've sworn his fingers starting moving a whole lot faster at her suggestive phrasing.

Nick:

“Tell me, why is this now a regular part of my job duties?" Ellie asked as she finished sewing up yet another tear in Nick's trench coat. "You know you're just going to end up with more holes in this coat every time you leave the office, and I don't seem to recall you ever caring about this old thing's appearance before…" she trailed off.

Nick knew that Ellie was fishing for answers. One specific one in particular, but he liked the ambiguity of the situation. It was this little game he and his secretary would play. He would leave clues here and there that pointed to the nature of his and Sole's relationship and wait to see if Ellie would say anything. All while she continued to try and force the truth from him verbally. He wasn't going to lose this round.

"What? A private detective can't keep up appearances for his clients? I think it's just good for business."

"I think it's a load of bologna. You know we gave Sole her own trench coat after she saved you, right? She could just wear her own, rather than steal yours every time you two go out on a case."

"What kinda fun would that be? I don't mind it, it's not like I get cold anyway. And the poor little lady never knows how long we're going to be gone, so I don't think it's her fault when we're out after dark and she wants to wear it."

Ellie rolled her eyes and let out an exasperated sigh as she poked the needle back through the worn, beige fabric once again.

"She's got you so tightly wound around her finger, it's a wonder she doesn't call you 'Jared'."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I don't know, it’s something I’ve read about, I guess it was a ring shop, or a jewelry company, or something before the war. I thought it sounded clever. Just humor me, won't you?"

The synth just shook his head, uttering a low chuckle as he watched Ellie tighten the thread, forcing the last hole closed.

"There." She said, tying up the last bit of string left over, before cutting off the excess. "It's done."

"Perfect, thanks a million, doll. I'll see you soon, I've just gotta head out for a--"

"Date?" She finished the sentence for him suggestively, raising her eyebrows in question.

"A case. We're going to head out on a case, Ellie."

"Uh huh, sure. Well, here," she handed him back the coat, "now she doesn't need to worry about the cold air seeping in through all those holes. Let me know if you want me to insulate the damn thing when winter rolls around."

Valentine smiled, an uncharacteristically goofy smile, at Ellie's words. He was so obvious, why didn't he just come clean already?

"Will do, I’m sure she’ll enjoy that. Thanks again, Ellie. You're the best."

"And don't you forget it." She said, turning back to the mound of paperwork still on her desk beside her sewing supplies.

“Ah well, I’ll get him to admit to it one of these days.” Ellie mumbled as she began sorting through the files in front of her.

Piper:

Piper looked up at Scarlet from the table in the corner of the Dugout Inn,

"Yes, so I think we'll both have a nuka cola to start off. Then I'll do the crispy squirrel bits, and she'll have the Salisbury steak." Piper pointed her finger to Sole, who was busy looking down at the table, before making a last-minute decision, "Aaand you'd better bring some of those snack cakes at the end, too."

"Hm, as usual." Scarlet chuckled at that as her pen scribbled across the notepad in her hand.

"But that sounds good, you two. I'll have that out in just a minute." The waitress grabbed their menus, Sole reaching up to hand it to her with a smile on her face before turning to peer at her partner from across the table. She waited for Scarlet to disappear around the corner to the kitchen before speaking.

"You really don't find it annoying?" She asked.

"What?" Piper loosened the scarf around her neck as she looked questioningly at Sole.

"I know that I ask you to order for me whenever we go out to eat, or drink, and it's gotta be getting a little old at this point, right?"

"No, not at all, Blue!" Piper said as she took her hat off and placed it on the table, mussing her hair a bit with one hand. "This reporter actually finds it to be pret-ty endearing. It's like, the one thing you can't do. You’re good at, like, everything else, but this I get to help you with. It's a welcome change." Piper's hands dropped to the top of the table as she began absent-mindedly fiddling with her silverware. But her eyes stayed on the woman across the table as Sole smiled at her, still appearing a little embarrassed.

"I don't know why I can't do it," Sole tried to explain, "I've just never been able to order for myself, even before the war. Just one of those bizarre anxiety things, I guess."

"Well, like I said, I don’t mind at all. In fact, I think it's cute."

Preston:

Sole approached her Lieutenant, shaking her head at him, and she saw him sigh.

“No, the river just keeps going until it reaches a ravine." She told him, "And it’s too steep to climb down. Any luck on your end?”

“Hmm, not really. It's a little more shallow upstream, but it’s still about ten feet wide.”

“Damn.” She said, “We need to get across.” A settlement had sent a distress call across radio freedom almost an hour ago, if Sole and Preston took any longer, they might be too late.

“I guess we’ll just have to go for it.” She said, her face painting a picture of clear disgust at the thought of wading through the murky water.

“Well, let’s at least head upstream a bit. To the shallow part.”

“Okay.” Sole said begrudgingly, her footsteps unconsciously heavy as she followed her companion to the shallow part. Not shallow enough, I bet.

And she was right. As the pair arrived, Preston turned to Sole to gauge her reaction, noticing the way her nose wrinkled at the sight of the brown, swirling water.

Preston heaved a sigh, and started forward. Before he reached the waterline, he turned to see Sole still standing back, feet seemingly glued to the muddy ground. He couldn’t help but smile sympathetically at her, eyebrows creasing upwards as he watched her eyes look longingly at the far shore.

“Come here.” He said.

“I know, I know. Just start going, I’ll follow.” Preston chuckled at the exasperation in her voice. Instead of repeating his command, he simply walked over to her as her eyes remained locked on the other side of the river, when he reached her, he slowly pressed his hand to the small of her back.

“Hey, what are you--?” Before Sole could finish her question, Preston had scooped her up into his arms, bridal style. She let out a squeak of surprise, and he couldn’t keep himself from grinning.

“Is this okay? He asked, the brim of his hat pressing against Sole’s forehead as he looked at her.

“A warning would’ve been nice.” Preston laughed, shaking his head as he adjusted his grip on her, ensuring she was secure before making his way towards the river.

“Hold onto me.” He said, and Sole wrapped her arms tightly around his shoulders.

“Ready?” Sole nodded to him, and Preston took a step forward, frigid water seeping in through his boots as he waded in.

“Wait, are you sure you want to do this?” She said, her eyes trained on the river as it raised up to Preston’s knees.

“I might be wrong, General, but I think I already am.” He said, the amusement in his voice faint as he gritted his teeth against the cold.

She felt his body shutter as he continued forward, the water reaching up almost to his waist, as he held Sole up higher to ensure it wouldn’t reach her. She let out a small sigh of relief as they reached the end of the channel. The water became more shallow, and Preston quickened his pace with each step that brought him closer to their destination.

Once completely out of the water, and past the muddy shoreline, Preston finally set Sole down gently. As her feet touched the ground, Sole kept her arms wound about Preston’s neck.

“Thank you, love.” She said, her voice soft as she addressed him as her partner rather than her Lieutenant.

“It was my pleasure, m’lady.” He said, briefly removing his hat from his head as he did so. Sole smiled at him warmly, but detected the faint chattering of his teeth, and when she looked down, she couldn’t help but notice the goosebumps littering his skin.

“Oh, Preston…” Sole said as she pressed herself to him, rubbing her hands against his back and arms quickly, in an attempt to warm him with her friction. She felt hot air wash over her neck as he released a shaky breath of relief, leaning into her touch. The pair stood there for a moment, Preston syphoning off Sole’s warmth as she tried to repay him for his earlier act of kindness. Her hands slowed from her vigorous rubbing to a more tender sort of touch, before Preston’s head shot up.

“Shit, Sole, the settlement! We’ve got to move!”

X6-88:

This had become a common routine of theirs, and X6 wasn’t entirely sure how to feel about it. Every time they were in Sole’s Diamond City home, she would insist on making dinner for the two of them. That, X6 didn’t mind too much; although, after consuming nothing but food supplements in the Institute for so long, it did take some getting used to. But eating the food wasn’t the issue, it was the making of it that had him perplexed.

As far as he knew, Sole had been the one to install the shelves in her kitchen; and yet, every time she was in need of a spice of some sort, or a condiment, or one of her dishes, she would ask X6 for assistance, given that the shelves were apparently too high for her to reach. Why Sole continued to store her items on the too-tall shelves, he couldn’t begin to guess. But here she went again, asking him to reach for the box of blamco mac n’ cheese on the top shelf, the highest one, one that he could barely even reach. X6 decided it was time to voice his confusion.

“Ma’am?”

“Yes?” She asked distractedly as she focused on the strength of the flame burning on her stove.

“Why do you use these shelves?”

“What else would I use, silly?” X6 scrunched up his face at that, trying to hold back a verbal scoff at her wording.

“Would you rather I just store everything on the floor?”

“Well, no. That would… hardly be sanitary.” He wasn’t sure if she was joking with him or not. Did she think he was joking with her?

“Why do you ask, X?” She grabbed the box from his hand as he extended it towards her, and began tearing at the top of it with her finger.

“Well, it seems nonsensical to me, for you to continue placing all of your items out of your reach. What happens if I’m not here?” Sole placed a saucepan filled with water over the stove and turned to look at him.

“But you are here.” she said, shrugging, “What? Don’t you like helping me out in the kitchen?”

X6 blinked. What the hell did this have to do with what he liked?

“Well… I don’t dislike it. I’m just having trouble with-- I don’t-- I just... do you want me to fix the shelves so they are the right height for you?”

“No, I like them the way they are.”

X6 felt his eye twitch from beneath his shades. Confusion built up inside him, making the courser feel as though he might explode.

“Ma’am--” His voice faltered as he realized he didn’t know what else to say.

“I know they’re not practical, X. But you can reach them, and I like that about them. Even when I’m here alone, the fact that I can’t make dinner without you makes me smile.” X6 furrowed his eyebrows. That explanation didn’t help at all.

“Don’t you get hungry?”

“I'm not completely helpless, you know, I can usually figure something out.” She attempted to look annoyed at his question, but her grin gave her away. X6 narrowed his eyes at her, still not completely satisfied with the way the conversation had gone. He was still just as confused as he was before.

“Huh.” He said, mulling over all she had said on the subject. “Perhaps... in that case, we should ensure that I am by your side for any missions near Diamond City. That way, I can be sure the future director of the Institute doesn’t go hungry.”

“Well, if you think that’s necessary, who am I to argue?” The left side of X6’s lip tilted upwards in an expression of amusement, and Sole openly smiled at him, laughing a little to herself as she turned her attention back to the boiling water on the stove.

“Can you hand me the pepper mill? Second shelf.”

“I know which shelf. But yes, I can.” He said, turning around to grab it, as Sole continued grinning to herself.

Now I just have to make sure he never looks under my bed. Sole thought. If X6 ever found the step stool she had hidden there, what would happen to her kitchen helper?

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mrslilyrogers · 4 years

Text

All I have to do is Dream Part 2

Pairing: Steve x Reader, Telepath! Reader (X-men reader)

Summary: It’s been five years since the snap. You and Steve are stuck at an impasse. You want a family, he doesn’t. He says he’s moved on but has he really? With your doubts growing, you consider risking his trust and use your powers on him to get your answers once and for all.

Author’s note: I don’t know if I’ve mentioned it before but reader here has studied at the Xavier Institute so she’s basically part of the X-men. You don’t have to read the comics or watch their movies, it is just part of her background. This is based on Endgame and would follow its progression. If you want to be tagged, please send an ask!! Thank you all for reading!!!

Part 1

Steve’s jaw twitched, his throat muscles working, eyes never leaving the photo on his phone. He pursed his lips and let out a huge exhale, running a hand on his face. What the hell had you done?

Nat didn’t question when he came back to the compound late last night nor when he didn’t show up the morning after, only learning from F.R.I.D.A.Y, he was up earlier than his usual and left. He came back a few hours ago, sweaty and gruff, immediately rushing to lock himself up at the gym. Wallowing there until now.

She had known Steve long enough to know he was blowing off steam. She knew better than to pry, letting him keep to himself until he was ready to talk, and Steve was glad for it. Glad he still had one friend who cared.

What the hell had you done?

—————————-

You jolted from the bed, Steve’s eyes drilling holes in your direction from where he sat stiffly beside you, his mouth pressed into a thin disapproving line. If only looks could kill. You had never seen him so angry in your life. His breath coming in rapid pants, his fists clenched tight at his sides, the muscles around his neck and arms bulging. You felt naked under his gaze, bared to the soul with nowhere to hide. Ironic when just a few moments ago, you had breached into his mind, violating his privacy to the utmost.

“Y/N,” he said, deathly low and lethal, a warning.

“Steve, I’m sorry I didn’t know--” you scrambled to your feet, panic rising up to your throat, cheeks wet with tears.

“Bullshit!” He roared, not letting you finish, shooting up to his feet like the soldier he was. His tightly coiled temper finally unleashed. “You went inside my head! Don’t you fucking give me any excuses!”

In his anger, he threw the analog clock from his bedside table to the floor, breaking it into tiny pieces instantly, the sound of it cracking and your crying the only things filling the air. You didn’t recognize the sobs coming from you, not even knowing if it was from what you’ve just discovered or the way he looked at you now. As if he didn’t know you, as if he could never trust you again.

“I’m sorry,” was all you said. And you were. In every sense of the word. Sorry for yourself, sorry for what you’ve learned, sorry for what you’ve done.

“How could you do this to me?” Steve asked, disbelieving.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. It’s just… I overheard you at grief counseling--”

“You what?” He hissed, eyes incredulous and accusing. “Are you fucking spying on me now?” he pointed his finger at you, circling the bed to stand in front of you, his steps quick and long. He looked like he did on missions. One purpose, ready to attack. It was a miracle he kept his fists at his sides instead of shaking you.

“NO! No, I was waiting outside and I heard what you said, and it’s made me think…”

“No, you didn’t think! I told you time and time again, I love you. What more do you fucking need?” His voice grew even louder, exasperation and impatience seeping out of him as if he had been putting up with you for so long.

What more do you need? What more do you need?

“The truth, Steve! I just wanted to know the truth!” You answered back, voice rising in return. The whole time you thought you were only being paranoid, insecure, blaming it on yourself when you weren’t wrong all along. He still wanted her. Yearned for her.

“And are you happy now? You happy that you’ve forced it out of me?” Steve’s tone turned mocking, his eyes hard and jaw tensed. No denial, no guilt. He baited you and if he had enough presence of mind, he wouldn’t have said that, wouldn’t have deliberately gone out of his way to cut you deep. But right at this moment, all he saw was red. He wanted to hurt you, to punch, to scream. His hands shook, in the need to destroy something, to fight someone. Fists bringing out what he couldn’t put forth into words. He knew he had to leave.

You flinched from his words as if you’ve been physically slapped. Eyes full of hurt, you were speechless, immobilized to the spot, no other choice but to take it all in and watch him as he bristled past you, heading to the direction of your shared closet, grabbing his duffel bag and stuffing it with whatever he could get his hands on.

“Wait, where are you going?” your voice was small, hands shaking while you clutched the end of your shirt.

“I can’t even look at you right now,”

“So is this it? Is that all you have to say?” You pleaded, a part of you still hoping he’d deny everything you saw. That it was just all it ever was, a dream. A fantasy from another life. That it didn’t mean anything. That he’d pick you, the one who was here, someone he could actually build a future with. Over a dead woman, a woman who belonged to another decade, another lifetime.

“Since you’re so good at getting into people’s minds, why don’t you tell me?” He taunted, turning his back to you, roughly shoving his toiletries in his bag.

“That’s not fair, Steve!”

“Fair? You want to talk about being fair when you broke my trust! You promised, Y/N. Does that only mean something when it’s convenient to you?” He turned around this time, nostrils flaring, finger pointing offensively at you again. You were so close to him now, could practically feel the heat radiating off his body. And you were scared. You were scared to lose him. Because you knew whatever happened tonight couldn’t be reversed. The things he said, the things you did, there was no going around it anymore.

“Do you want me to say I don’t love Peggy anymore, is that it? Is that what you wanna hear? Because I can’t. I still love her!” His voice boomed around you, shaking you to your core. Fresh, hot tears trailed down your cheeks. You were helpless. Broken.

As soon as the words left him, he knew he’d regret it. At the way you looked, so small and vulnerable, hugging your arms to your chest, his eyes softened, “Y/N…” he moved towards you, hands out to comfort you but you backed away.

Shaking your head vehemently, you took another step back. You didn’t want his touch, didn’t want him near you.

“No, no. Don’t.” you stayed a hand up to stop him. “It’s alright. You’re right,”

“Y/N, that’s not--”

“I think you should leave.” you pointed to the bag already in his hand. Your resolve, sure and strong.

“Y/N, I didn’t--” he tried again, shaking his head. How could he take those words back? Did he not mean them too? God help him but he loved them both.

“Steve, please stop. Just stop. Don’t make this any harder than it already is,” you pleaded, not knowing what else he wanted from you. You gave him an out; clear and easy. Wasn’t that enough? Did he have to hurt you even more?

“I shouldn’t have said those things,” He let out on a sigh, shaking his head. “But sweetheart, please don’t look at me like that,” You looked like a terrified deer, ready to run at the first sign of danger and he couldn’t bear that it was directed at him. He could handle your tenacity, your fire, anything else but the defeated look on your face. It made his heart ache.

He tried again, speaking gently, “Y/N, if you want me to leave for the night, I will. I think you might be right, we need some space after this, clear our heads,”

This time, he went near you and you let him, you let his hands hold your arms like he’s done in past arguments. You let him look you straight in the eye like he’s done so many times before. You let him say his piece, already knowing where it was headed like the back of your hand. You operated like this. Clockwork. When one pushed, the other shoved.

One last time.

“But promise me you’ll be here in the morning to talk. You went inside my head, Y/N, but I wanna work through this. I love you,” he said it like he meant it, his heart on his sleeve but you weren’t so sure you believed him anymore.

“You know I love you, right?” He asked just like the last time. Clockwork.

No. I don’t.

You nodded your head.

-----------------

He tossed and turned that night, the look of hurt on your face scarred in his memory. He knew he shouldn’t have left, knew he should’ve fought to stay.

It was true that he was furious but any animosity he felt immediately simmered after the mention of Peggy. He was way out of line. He wanted to apologize, to pull you into his arms and kiss away the bitter words he spoke but he was still so shaken about what you had done, what you had seen, and so he figured he should let it rest first, giving you both time and space to calm down. Everything looked better in the morning, right?

But your face came unbidden in his mind, he could still remember the exact moment you closed yourself off to him, your eyes hauntingly empty and hollow, shoulders hunched, arms instinctively wrapped to yourself. So small and vulnerable.

He should’ve stayed, dammit!

He let out a grunt as he stared up at the ceiling. He still couldn’t believe you used your abilities on him, couldn’t believe you’d go so far when you’d never ever shied away from asking him anything. Heck, you’d basically proposed to him with all your nagging of starting a family.

Why did you have to see that?

He hissed and shook his head, guilt gnawing in his stomach. Your power was able to force out his deepest dreams and desires. But was that the whole truth? If he hadn’t woken up and you’d stuck a little longer then you would’ve known just how scared and confused he was. What you saw was the Steve who still clung to the past, the part of him that wanted to go back, yearned to go back because it was safer, it was where he truly belonged.

But then again, he wasn’t that same man anymore, was he? Not fully anyway. In more ways than one, he had moved on. For the past couple of years, he did, in fact, envision a future with you. He was going to propose until the snap happened and then, everything changed. He saw his friends, his family, gone to dust. He could still hear Bucky’s echoing words, calling out to him. All those lost souls vanished as if they never existed while he stood, helpless and useless. Why spare him again? Why did he have to go through it all again? Didn’t he have enough pain and loss in one lifetime?

And so he started thinking of the past. The good ol’ days, if you could even really call it that. It started out as a tiny flicker of curiosity. You both had just found a new apartment in New York, it wasn’t all that hard with the sudden vacancies. You were standing in the middle of the room, hands on your hips while he sat at the edge of the bed his head bowed, elbows resting on his knees.

“Steve, we need to start thinking of the future. I know it’s hard but they’re not coming back and we can’t keep doing what we’re doing. We can get away from all this, you know, start a new life. Don’t you want that too?”

He swallowed a lump in his throat. He wanted to fight, to try again and again until he got everyone back. He was grieving, angry, and above all, guilty. Why couldn’t he do what he was made for in the first place? How did he let all of this happen? And why, for god’s sake, why did he have to survive while the others vanished?

But you were right. Of course, you were right. The ever practical and optimistic you. He looked at you with tired eyes, not wanting to argue, and nodded his head. He still had you, that was a win. For every shitty thing that happened since, at least you were alive and he wouldn’t trade that for the world but some jaded, cynical part of him questioned how long that would last. The universe clearly had a bone to pick with him and it was only a matter of time before you were taken from him too and that scared the living shit out of him.

And so he had started to wonder what if?

What if he never had to wake up from the ice? What if he never had to crash the plane in the first place? What if he was where he was really supposed to be?

All those questions drifted down into one person, the one that got away. Peggy. She was his link to the past, everything that was sweet and wonderful. The dance he missed, the future he wanted when everything settled down into peace after the war. Peace. As ironic as that sounded, she reminded him of peace. The little dream he had in the back of his head whenever he infiltrated a nazi base camp. Every mission, every fight, he would think one more of this and the war would be over, one more and I get back to her. Peace.

He craved for that peace so much, he didn’t even realize what he had been doing. He lived in that dream, longing for the time he could never get back. All the while you were hurting, so desperately trying to cling on to him while he slipped into himself. You needed him but he continued to chase the life he lost, for all his talk of moving on. He didn’t even realize how his fear of losing you has led him down to the very verge of it and now, he was anxious and afraid. So so afraid. You wouldn’t leave him, would you? God, he’d do anything, drop everything, to follow you.

That realization just made his head spin, was he really willing to let everything go just like that? Of course, he was. There was no question about it. Nothing else mattered if it meant losing you. It was a damned shame he only realized that now.

We can work through this, he thought to himself. He couldn’t let you go, wouldn’t let you go. It didn’t even matter what you had done anymore, not right now, not when all he wanted was for you to know everything, that above all, he was choosing you. He loves you.

I’ll make this work. We’ll make this work.

----------------------------------

He stared at his friend’s face, her red hair already outgrowing the blonde curls that framed her frowning face. She couldn’t believe it. Hell, even he didn’t believe it. How could you?

Before the sun had even risen, he was already up, tying his shoelaces with his jittery hands. He had never been so nervous in his life. Not even when he had to crash his own plane, with that came a sense of doom and certainty but this? This was torture. This was hell.

What was he going to say? How was he going to explain himself? What could he do to make you stay?

What you had done the night before, invading his most private thoughts, had been pushed to the side. In his heart, he had already forgiven you, understood why you had to do what you did. He knew you, the kind of person you were and you would never have done it had you not thought it was necessary. And with everything that he’s done and what you heard, could he really judge you for it?

He rushed into the apartment, his heart already heavy. He couldn’t find it in himself to wait until you woke up and instead gave a tentative, “Y/N?” as he poked his head into the bedroom door, the sight of it knocking the air right out of him.

No, no, no, no, no.

The neatly made up bed greeted him, curtains drawn back to illuminate the empty room. His heart dropped to his stomach, “No, no, no, no, no,”

“Y/N?” he shouted into the room, somehow hoping he was mistaken, that you were still here, that you’d show up.

Did you really leave him? Could you really have done that?

He ran to the bathroom, calling out to you, but it was the same as he had left it. Except all of your stuff was gone. Your toiletries by the sink, all the little hair ties you kept lying around. Gone.

How could you do this to him? How could you leave without saying goodbye?

All the clothes he had always folded for you after you tossed them in the closet weren’t there anymore. Any trace of you was now gone. He let out a curse, his cold hand fumbling for his phone in his pocket. No messages, no calls.

“Come on, pick up,” He prayed into the phone. Please, please, please. When the monotonous operator answered, he let out a shout,

“Fuck!”

Throwing his phone unto the bed, he realized even the clock he had thrown in his temper had been cleaned away, a letter laid down on where it was supposed to be.

He picked it up quickly, his breathing rapid at the two simple words scrawled in your distinct handwriting.

I’m sorry.

Crumbling the paper in his fist, he shakily put it to his pale lips. Breathe...

What were you thinking? You couldn’t have even left a number to contact you? How was he supposed to find you now? He felt himself grow weak in the knees. He knew the type of training you had with the X-men, if you didn’t want to found, you wouldn’t.

Had he lost you forever?

Hands shaking at the thought, he ran. Ran to get away from his emotions. Lost, angry and hurt. What the hell had you done?

What the hell had you done?

Natasha let out an exhale, bringing him out of his reverie. The look of hurt still evident on her face, she couldn’t believe you’d just leave without saying goodbye.

“If there’s one thing I know is that she loves you. You need to fix this, Steve,”

Before he could even reply, the front gate’s access flashed before her. Mindlessly swiping it, they both turned to the monitor, their minds still preoccupied on where you could be. The man standing outside, waving his arms about looked eerily familiar but that couldn’t be...

Scott Lang?

Oh god, what now?

#steve rogers x reader #steve x reader #captain america x reader #steve rogers angst #steve rogers #steve rogers fic #avengers #marvel #marvel fic #captain america #captain america angst

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amor-immortalem · 3 years

Text

Everything Undesired chapter 5

A/N: this went in a completely different direction than the original comic did but I think its better this way. More angstier.

Chapter 4

The glow of blue fire emanates from the Witches’ house. As the three brothers watched, the child tucked safely into Lucifer’s arm, the mood was solemn.

“So, it’s over? What happens now?” Beel asked.

“We go home,” The Avatar of Pride replies, “And we help Mammon do his best to move past this...” He turns to look at his brothers, the glow from the fire casting a dark shadow over his face. “We’re finished here. Let’s go.”

A portal was opened as the eldest walked through followed by the others. On the other side, he found Levi and Belphegor trying to move Satan’s old crib from the attic down to Arella’s old room.

“Come on, Levi, put your back into it!” Belphie said as they moved down the stairs carefully. “I’m practically carrying this thing on my own here.”

“I'm trying! A shut in like me isn’t meant to be moving something so heavy.” Levi groaned as he hefted the crib up further.

Lucifer only cleared his throat as the seventh and third-born brothers looked his way. “Where’s Mammon?”

“I used my powers to put him back to sleep so he could rest up before the kid got here.” The Avatar of Sloth replied. “He doesn’t need to be over-tired and dealing with an infant at the same time. It’s a recipe for disaster, if you ask me. ”

At the commotion, Arella came out of the kitchen where she was washing out all of the old baby bottles they would need. “Oh, you’re back. I can take him now. Beel, would you help them with the crib please? It’ll be going in my old room for the time being, and Satan, would you finish drying the bottles for me, please?”

Both brothers nodded with Beel stepping forth to take the crib from his brothers and Satan headed to the kitchen. Levi and Belphie let out exhausted sighs as they headed off to their rooms and the only two left now in the entrance hall were Lucifer and Arella. She held her arms out for the little one and Lucifer was all too happy to oblige her.

With a small cry of discontentment, the baby settled into her arms quickly as she shushed him. She rocked him gently until he was back to sleep. Seeing her step so readily into the role of motherhood left the demon impressed.

“He’s already had a diaper change around two hours ago and he ate around an hour ago so he should be fine for a little bit.”

”Alright, he is frightfully thin though which worries me, but he’s in good hands now.”

“Why are you doing this, Arella? You know you don’t have to and yet here you are, embracing a child that’s not even yours.”

“Do I need a reason?” She smiles as she looked up at him. “I don’t think I do. I suppose if I have to have a reason it would be that I just want to help Mammon. He can’t do this alone. Don’t you think that’s enough?”

The Avatar of Pride only nodded. “You humans never cease to amaze me with your generosity. Has he thought of a name yet?”

“He threw a couple names out there but ultimately he couldn’t decide so he asked me to choose the name from the ones he suggested.”

“And?”

“I chose the name Cyrus, from the Latin meaning sun. Right now, it’s a very dark time in our lives, but I hope one day he’ll be bright like a little ray of sunshine.”

“Very thoughtful of you,” The demon hums. “But are you sure you’ll be alright tonight? You’ve been up nearly all night. You have to be exhausted by now.”

“I’ll be alright. This isn’t the first time I’ve pulled an all-nighter. When I graduated from Cambridge a couple years back, I earned myself a degree in biochemical engineering. I can’t tell you the number of sleepless nights I had cramming in last minute reviews. This won’t be anything compared to those. I’m obviously not planning to go to RAD tomorrow, so I can just sleep when Cyrus sleeps.”

“You can take online courses then. We’re going to try to pass him off as your child for that to work you’ll need to be absent from RAD for an extended period of time. If word gets out that my brother was assaulted, the mockery he’ll face will be absolutely ridiculous. It’ll be easy since demons don’t know much about human anatomy. We can always say it was a surprise pregnancy and you never showed.”

Arella only nodded at that. “Thank you,” she turned and headed to her old room for the night to settle the baby.

----------------------------------------------

Mammon slept for a full eight hours before waking up with a start. While he felt rested, there was also an odd sense of worry flowing through him. He looked around frantically and then realized what was missing. Arella wasn’t with him. He got out of bed and made his way around the house looking for his mate. She would be in the last place he looked- in her room. He shrunk back at the sight of his child resting against her chest, as a soft purring noise filled the room. The sight reminded him just how much he wanted them to have a child of their own together.

The demon stood there, mesmerized by the sight in front of him until his human noticed him. She motioned for him to join her on the bed, a bright smile enveloped her features as he did just that.

“He’s beautiful, love.” She said as she leaned her head against his shoulder. “Do you want to try to hold him?”

He shook his head as he rested his cheek against her. “I don’t know if I can right now...” The Avatar of Greed only frowned. He wanted to hold Cyrus but he still felt like none of this was real. “It feels like a bad dream... Like I’ll wake up any second now.”

“That’s alright. If it helps, you could pretend that he was always our son to begin with. It might help you in the long run.”

“Do ya think... maybe I can trick myself like that?” He reached out and stroked the child’s cheek. “’Rella, I don’t get it... How can somethin’ so beautiful be born from somethin’ so horrible?”

“Sometimes the best things come from tragedy, Love. I’m so proud of you for being strong enough to take him in, do you know that?”

Mammon would only nod in response as a tiny hand came to wrap around his finger. For a moment all the air was stolen out of his chest as he recoiled from the contact slightly. The feeling of a crushing weight on his chest that he had only felt in his worst nightmares had returned. Suddenly, he wondered if he made the right decision as the realization set in that he was a father now. What if he was never able to love his son? What kind of damage would that do to his child? Could he do this?

“Mammon?”

“I-I’m fine. Don’t worry,” he takes a few deep breaths and he’s able to calm himself. “I'll take him now. Hafta get past this at some point. I hafta be the parent he needs.”

“You will be. I have faith in you.” Arella kissed his cheek before carefully transferring Cyrus to his father. “I know you’ll be a fantastic father once you’re able to see him separately from what his mother and aunts did to you.”

He only nodded as Arella cards her fingers through his hair. He thought this would be a monumental challenge at first, and it still was but as long as she was here, he thought maybe things would go smoother.

—————————————————————

The crying was the worst part for Mammon and Cyrus was unfortunately a fussy baby. Over the past few weeks since he’d been brought home, there were multiple times where the white-haired demon had to leave the room whenever his child cried or pass him off to his adoptive mother, feeling too physically sick to listen to or even look at the child.

The end of the spring term was nearly upon them and since exams would be coming up. Mammon took every chance he could to stay late at RAD for some extra studying with Satan and Asmodeus, knowing he had to get his grades back up. But the guilt was eating away at him. Arella was at home all day, typically alone, with his child. Any good father- any good mate- would be rushing home to give his partner a break to take time for herself and Mammon knows this but even when he doesn’t stay late at school he finds himself dragging his feet to get home.

He stared and stared at the work book in front of him. It was curses and hexes, one of his most hated subjects and arguably his worst grade. Eventually, he just shut the work book, taking of his glasses and just rubbing his eyes as he leaned back in his chair. This caught the attention of his younger brothers.

”You alright, Mams?” Asmo asked as he set his pen down.

”Am I a bad father?” The white-haired demon countered with his own question.

”No, of course not.” Satan frowned. “Given everything that happened, I’d say you’re doing great.”

”It doesn’t feel like it,” he frowned. “This is my kid and yet it feels like Arella’s doin’ all the work. Takin’ care of him all the time, stayin’ home with him all the time… It should be me doin’ all the work not her! I’m the one who said I’d keep him and yet I can’t bring myself to do anything for him. A-And its not like I don’t know how to take care of a baby. I’ve done it before.”

The Avatar of Greed ran a hand through his hair in frustration before packing up his things.

”Where are you going?” Satan yelled after his brother before being shushed by the librarian.

”Home! To apologize to my mate and force myself to take care of my child.”

If you want to be tagged for updates, let me know

Masterlist 2

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me swd #obey me! shall we date?#obey me angst #mammon angst #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me oc #arella #cyrus

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zirkkun · 3 years

Photo

❤️ULR Speed Date Event Results - Part 5/5!💙

And, very unsurprisingly, Ace is in first place for the amount of submissions he received, that being 82! Due to the fact that there was so many submissions, he has a lot more I debated between (and even though one of these was a joke response... it was still pretty story worthy):

❤️ Ary 💙 dragon anon ❤️ din 💙 Vee ❤️ Yours~ 💙 ya know, nyah :3c ❤️ Chaomingo 💙 Lilianna ❤️ Orly

And last but not least is the winner of Ace’s date will be revealed. You can read the date either under read more or on AO3!

🖤--✨--❤️

Undertale (c) Toby Fox Underlust by @/nsfwshamecave Underlust Reimagine by myself

Thank you for your support, but do remember to support and read Underlust (18+) if you can!

ulr masterpost || ulr main tag || ulr ask box || ulr comic beginning || kofi?

... the anon who submitted under the name Lilianna!

❤️💙❤️💙❤️💙❤️💙

Sans still didn't want to be a part of this. He didn't want to be doing this at all. But, unfortunately, his brother wouldn't take "hell no" for an answer. So now he was stuck on a date. With a human, no less. Oh joy. Despite the fact that living on the Surface was so saught after, he really wasn't finding it to be appealing.

At least, for the start of this, he was by himself. Maybe a long time ago, he would have been bothered by someone being late to an event like this, but for now, he was indulging in the silence.

She, Sans's date, decided that she wanted to meet at this park outside of the city, late at night, for a chance to watch the stars. Frankly, he didn't really care one way or another. But, he did eventually find himself standing at the ledge of a bridge, watching the stars twinkling in their reflection on a river. That and the dead silence, only bug noises chirping here and there; was shockingly more relaxing than Sans had anticipated it would be.

"There you are! Sorry I'm late!!"

And the relaxation was cut short. Oh well. Not that he didn't expect that.

Sans turned his attention towards the direction of the voice, spotting the human running up to him as fast as she could. Panting as she caught up to him on the bridge, she exclaimed, "I'm so, so sorry, things were backed up getting out of the city and --"

"i don't really care," Sans cut in. He turned his attention back to the river.

The human, a little taken aback, tried to brush over the harsh comment. She took a step towards the edge of bridge, holding on to the railing with a tight grip. The silence echoed in the park once more, but for the human, this was more awkward than anything else. She didn't really know what to say... is there a topic she knew offhand he'd be willing to discuss? Um... no, not really.

"hey."

Oh! He said something first! "Yeah?" the human responded.

"do you think a fall from this height into the river would kill me?"

A brief moment of silence. It held both shock and interest from each halves of the conversation.

"What -- I don't know?! I don't really want to know!! That sounds painful regardless and I really don't want to find out!!"

But Sans just laughed at her sudden panic. "relax. i was joking."

"Th... that's a bit of a dark joke, don't you think?"

He shrugged. "It happens." He didn't elaborate, leaving the silence to once again consume the conversation into nothing. The human shifted uncomfortably where she stood.

She debated back and forth on another topic to talk about. Anything to ease the tension -- especially since it got worse with his topic of choice.

"Um... so, on that form thing, you asked me about stuff I like to do... but what about stuff you like to do?" she prompted, hoping it wouldn't be another dark joke response.

"hm." Sans pondered the question for a while, not really knowing what to say. When's the last time he did something he liked doing? Probably when he was working with the other Royal Scientists. Which was over ten years ago. "i dunno," he answered instead. "haven't done anything just 'cause in a long time."

"Oh." The human frowned. "Well, maybe we could do something together sometime then, and you can find a new hobby? Only if you'd like, of course."

Sans raised a brow as he flicked his gaze to her. "like what?"

"Oh, um... well, I like to bake, draw, and read... but those are all pretty boring so maybe not those..." she responded sheepishly.

Sans didn't react negatively, but he wasn't exactly enthusiastic either. He's practically read every book from the Underground cover-to-cover with how much time he's had on his hands, and his drawing skills were... not to be admired. And Papyrus has always been on his case to eat more. So... "i dunno, baking?" he blurted.

The human blinked. "As in, you'd want to do some baking together?"

"yeah, sure, whatever."

"You really don't sound all that interested."

"i'm not interested in most things, what's your point?"

The human shuffled back into silence for a brief while as she herself started to stare at the river, her eyes trailing down the reflection until they met the sky, full of crystal-clear stars. "You don't have to if you don't want to," she added. "I know you're already... not super excited about this current date, so please don't feel like you have to force yourself further."

Ah. There it was. The same kind of consideration that made him pick this person over everyone else in the first place. Some people had acknowledged him not wanting to deal with this, but their responses were things like, "Then why be here?" which only irked him enough to toss them aside. Some disacknowledged it, which he prefered, but something about when she said... "You seem like you don't want to do this anyways, which is all good," really hit him in a way he didn't expect.

Sans, however, did not even consider responding out loud, and instead just pulled his scarf up tighter on his face. Sans? Being honest and clear with his emotions? Haha. How funny. Easier to just push them aside. A void of feeling is much easier to deal with.

Well, he did give a sort of grunt of acknowledgment to her comment. But... it was really far after she'd said anything. So she thought he was prompting something new.

"What's that?" she asked.

"nothing."

"Then...?" But the human just shook her head. Maybe talk about something else. "You know..." She'd started a sentence, but didn't actually have anything to say. In a frantic moment to try and finish what she'd started, she said, "Time is a precious thing, isn't it?"

There was a pause.

"what'd'ya mean?" Sans asked.

"We only get so much of it. It's so limited and can be taken from us in a second."

"... yeah, and?"

"I just... I like spending time with people," she finalized. "There's only so much time I have available, and I want to be able to spend as much of it as I can with people I care about and doing things I've wanted to do. Thinking about it all is a bit scary sometimes..."

Sans debated the crass comment of "so what you're saying is i should leave and do something i'd rather be doing," but he figured now was not the time for something like that. He waited a moment to see if the human had more to say about the topic, but when she didn't, he decided to jump in with his own response. "worrying about what you might lose out on is kinda pointless," he said bluntly. "sometimes shit ain't gonna work out, and you'll miss out on something you'd have rather wanted. sometimes people are taken away from you when you least expect it and you're left wondering if you did enough for them or with them. but it's not the end of the world. you've gotta just work with what you're dealt with."

The human didn't expect such a long, nor deep, reply from him, and was a little taken aback by it. While these may have been things said before, or maybe she'd even considered them, it was different to hear them coming from someone who two seconds ago wanted to jump off the bridge. Frankly... does that mean she should take his words with a grain of salt, or...?

"sorry," Sans blurted. "said more than i shoulda."

"Wh -- n-no, don't worry about that!! I just... didn't expect you to have a lot to say on the topic. Or, I guess, to really reply lengthy at all. But it's okay! I'm glad you let me hear your thoughts."

He pulled his scarf tighter as he grunted a response, staring still at the reflection in the river.

#undertale #undertale au #underlust au #underlust reimagine #underlust reimagine sans #underlust reimagine event #zircon arts #zircon writes

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emmikmil · 3 years

Text

keep me in your heart for a while

Pairing: Din Djarin x Female!reader

Word count: 6,6K

Rating: EXPLICIT 18+

Warnings: Mild talk of injuries, a little sad, oral sex (f receiving) unprotected sex (this is fantasy ok IRL wrap that shit up and be SAFE)

Summary: You help Din after a chance encounter near your home. A friends to lovers with fluff, smut, some hurt/comfort and some mild angst. Set before and during season 1 of The Mandalorian.

A/N: This is part of the sl+ discord fic exchange and I wrote this for the amazing and lovely @koskareevesismyqueen I hope you enjoy!! Also big love to @soyelfuegoquearde for the beta read of my monster fic! Fic title is from the song Keep me in your heart by The Wailin’ Jennys <3

It takes you by surprise to hear blaster fire breaking the tranquil silence as you walk home. You had taken your bi weekly trip to the bustling city close by to stock up on supplies and it was unusual for any person, let alone people with blasters, to be nearby. Where you live is quiet and peaceful, nothing violent has happened in this small corner of the galaxy. Your house was tucked deep in the forest, nobody using this trail but you in your trips back and forth to the city.

You step off the path slowly to lean against a nearby tree to peer over to your left. The blaster fire had ceased for a moment but it renewed again, only closer this time. You drop down quickly, your heart jumping to your throat as an odd pinging noise rattles the air, like the shots were hitting something metal and a groan echoes throughout the trees. One last shot, then silence settles in the quickly dimming forest.

You take a few moments to breathe and get your heart settled before walking on shaky legs to the path. You have to get home, you can’t dwell on whatever fight has taken place. It’s over and it was best you got home before darkfall. As you continue down the trail, your adrenaline spikes again as you hear shuffling and more groaning. You pause and swivel your head back towards the sound. You had figured with the final shots there was no one left alive. Something inside told you to go, told you someone needed help. You pace for a moment longer, mind clicking into overdrive wondering what you were going to do. With a sigh, you walk off the path again, telling yourself you would just look and see. You doubt you can fix a blaster wound, but maybe your limited knowledge could help.

You make your steps as quiet as possible as you crept to the outskirts of the scene. Before you was a man, with his hands bound in front of him and several more men lay around him. None of them were moving and you assume it wasn’t them making those noises. Rustling to your left makes your gaze snap to another man, a very large armored man.

A Mandalorian.

You try in earnest to contain your gasp at the sight. Your eyes grow wide and you unknowingly take a few steps forward. You had grown up on stories about the Mandalorians. Their honor and creed at the forefront of every story about the armoured warriors. They had always fascinated you as a child and now one was right in front of you. He was trying to sit up now, struggling with his leg and holding a hand to his side. Before you could take another step his other hand snapped out, leveling his blaster point blank at you without even looking up.

“No, wait sir please, don’t shoot! I heard blasters and thought someone might be hurt, I just wanted to help!” You hold up your hands for good measure and back away a few steps. He finally looks at you, studying you carefully before slowly lowering his blaster. You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding in. “Can I- Will you let me help you stand up at least?” you ask, still eyeing his blaster wearily.

“Thank you, that would be appreciated.” His reply startles you for some reason. You thought perhaps it was the fact that a Mandalorian was speaking to you in the first place, but really it was that despite the modulator in his helmet making his voice sound tinny, it still sounded so warm. Deep, warm and husky were the best descriptions, the only thoughts flying through your brain as you stare at the sprawled out figure below you. With a small shake to your head, you drop your heavy bag and walk forward to offer up your hand.

“You’re either very brave or not very bright for doing this-” His own words cut off with a grunt as he stands, leaning more on his right leg. He stumbles a bit before your arms reach out, grasping his forearms to steady him.

“It’s closing in on sundown, it’ll be cold. I didn’t want to leave a helpless person out in the forest alone.” You couldn’t help but huff, annoyed at his words, more so that he was somewhat right in his criticism.

“A helpless person with a blaster?”

“Hey, I only came closer because you’re a Mandalorian! Your people are honorable and you wouldn’t hurt an innocent person...right?” You hate the hesitancy in your voice, how it shakes a little in the pause before you finish your sentence. You had assumed, once he assessed you were not a threat, that the man in armor wouldn’t cause you any harm. Before you can doubt yourself or start to run, he lays a hand down gently on your shoulder.

“I won’t hurt you.” His voice, while still laced in pain, was soft and comforting, soothing any panic starting to swell in you. “If you could just help me to my ship, I can patch up before heading out.” You nod and gently take his arm to place it around your shoulders, slowly starting to lead him towards the path.

“Oh, what about the uh…” you point behind you to the bounty still on the forest floor before leaning down, heaving your bag to settle on your back before adjusting the Mandalorians arm back around your shoulders.

“Leave it, I’ll come back for them in the morning.” With that, you both start towards his ship in silence, which was parked not too far away from your own home. You had heard something late the night before, chalking it up to a dream and not paying much attention to it. That had to have been when he landed. You pause again for him to catch his breath, his movements getting more lethargic, his ankle dragging worse and worse.

“How much farther is your ship again Mandalorian?” you ask while steadying his form. It was nearly black out now, the only light visible was the stars above and the small twinkle of light coming from the small lamp in your window.

“It’s just there,” he points towards the right ”just past that treeline, down the hill. Another twenty minute walk.” you bark out a laugh and pivot him back to the left.

“No way, neither of us can last that long, especially in the dark. My house is right here, I can patch you up and you can stay with me for the night. No arguing” The last bit spoken quickly when you hear him take a breath to respond.

You already knew he was quiet and independent, and somewhat stubborn, but you were not helping this man limp another twenty minutes. You guide him up the small path to your door, leaving his side to open it and gesture him to come inside, He limps in and stands in the middle of the room, watching as you bounce around the room, putting your supplies down on the table and rummaging in a drawer in the kitchen for your small medkit. You turn back and bite your lip in thought, glancing between the large Mandalorian and the now comically sized couch and armchair behind him.

“Go through that door, my bed will be easier for me to patch you up on.” You turn, setting water to boil for some tea before following him back to your room. “You have to take off some of that armor for me to take a look…” you flush slightly as he sits rigidly on the side of your bed. You turn away fiddling with the medkit, opening it, taking out some gauze and bacta spray as the sound of armor piling up on your floor echoes around the quiet house. You turn back around as he clears his throat.

The armor covering his leg, stomach, and chest were gone leaving only his worn pants and shirt underneath. The armor piled up in the corner along with both of his boots. You gulp, shaking your head as you bend to examine his ankle. Not broken to his luck, just twisted and swollen. The graze on his side from the blaster fire didn’t look too bad either. To fill the silence as you work you half-heartedly ask the story about this bounty. To your surprise, the Mandalorian, or Mando at his request, told the story of the bounty. How it had only become trouble when several of his crooked buddies came to “rescue” their friend, but ended in all of them dying in the quick battle. You both finish around the same time and he murmurs a quiet thanks as you clean up. You gently touch his shoulder as he goes to sit up.

“Hey now Mando, keep off that ankle. You may hurt it worse moving it more tonight. You’re more than welcome to stay here tonight. I’m making tea now and I’ll bring you some food.”

“You don’t have to go to the trouble” he begins to argue, just like you knew he would, and that thought makes you smile.

“I don’t mind. It’s nice to have company and...it’s cool to meet a Mandalorian. I grew up on stories about you, so-” you shrug at that, shuffling your feet before moving to the door ”besides, the bacta needs to work on that ankle. Should be fine by morning.” you threw over your shoulder before scurrying to the now boiling water. You could have sworn you heard a soft laugh but push that thought away, instead focusing on a small plate of food and tea for Mando.

-------

He sits in the cockpit of the Razor Crest, leaning his head back for a moment to watch the morning light break through the horizon. He hadn’t slept a wink the night before, too on edge to rest his body how he needed to. The adrenaline of the day before from the ambush hadn’t faded as it normal did. Being hurt, feeling almost helpless as he heard a figure walk toward him. He is glad now he didn’t shoot first like he normally did. He won’t admit to being startled by this woman in the middle of forest, walking right onto a grizzly scene wanting to do nothing but help the person who was injured. It left his guard up, and he nearly rejected her, but that tree root twisted his ankle something fierce, and he was not looking forward to crawling back to his ship in the dark.

Din knew he wasn’t the most gracious guest with his stubbornness and attitude but she didn’t even bat an eye. He hopes the credits he left on her table would be enough to pay for the supplies she wasted on him. As he takes off, heading to take the now frozen body back to Nevarro, he finally allows his body to relax in his comfort space. He had seen very little kindness in his adult life, specifically kindness where some kind of reward wasn’t expected in return. Try as he might to ignore his exchange with the woman, images and conversation from the night before dance around in his head. He wonders when, if ever, they will fade.

-------

You admit you had been just a little disappointed that he had left so early, and he had been so incredibly silent. You had startled awake from the nest you’d made in your cozy chair well into the late morning. You had walked to your table to see his dishes from the night before, his empty tea cup and his plate that you had put bread and cheese on. You couldn’t help but laugh at the crusts, now incredibly stale, still left on the plate. The big, strong, and snarky Mandalorian didn’t like the bread crusts. Your laugh died on your tongue as the light hit the large pile of credits stacked just behind the dishes. You shifted everything around, hoping he had left a note or explanation for the credits, but there was none to be found.

Your mind drifts to him often in the next several weeks. Every time you use the credits you thought of him. You spent them to restock your med kit, and even treat yourself to some books you had been eyeing for too long now. Sometimes at night, curled in your chair by the fire with your new books your mind would wander. Mostly you wonder if he thought about you, if his own mind drifts to the quiet night you two had shared. It hadn’t been much. After patching him up you brought him some food and tea, slinking away with heat flooding your face when you realized he couldn’t take off his helmet in front of you. You two talked a bit later that night, when you came to check his ankle before bed. He had been quiet and watchful of every move you made. He did answer the few questions about his creed that you just couldn’t help but ask. You wish now that you had asked more, wanting to hear his voice more, but all you could do was commit the moments to memory, a tale to tell your future children of how you saved a real Mandalorian.

Perhaps that is why you were so gobsmacked when said Mandalorian walked up to you several weeks later as you tend to the garden. His shadow engulfing your frame as you crouch, urging the crooked plant to stand upright.

“Are you...here for a bounty or something? I-shit i’m sorry that was rude.” You can’t help but smile as his shoulders shook under the armor as you fidget with your gloves.

“Had to stop and get supplies. Figured I would come see if you’ve saved any other strangers in the forest.” you scoff at his teasing tone, standing up to brush the dirt off your legs.

“I did actually, they even ate the crusts on their bread, unlike the last guy.” Your glare and cocky smirk melt away to a large smile as the Mandalorian barks out a real genuine laugh. “Come on now Mando, I’ll put on some tea.”

This interaction happens time and time again, he would stop by every month or so on his way to turn in bounties. After a few visits he brought you different teas he would find in markets around the galaxy, or even a book he thought you would like. The air between you two was easy, and you could tell he was more and more comfortable, having no problem lounging by the fire listening to your rattle on about the book you were reading or what your friends had been up to in the city. He never stayed overnight at your house again, but he would stay late sometimes and those were your favorite times.

You two would sit close and talk more seriously, leaving your usual joking and playful banter to die out with the sunlight. He told you of his parents, his childhood, his early days when he was reckless and wild. In turn you shared your secrets, troubles and your dreams. Mando may not be the most talkative during some visits but he was always so attentive, soaking up every word you said. It was one of those moments where he first called you cyare instead of your name. As you looked at him confused, he confessed, quite nervously in fact, that it meant friend in mando’a and your heart swelled. You knew he was alone a lot of the time and it sent warmth to flood your body knowing that he considered you a friend, a real friend.

Before you knew it, it had been over a year since you two had first met. You never quite knew when he would arrive, but he did each time, gift in hand asking if you had picked up any more wayward strangers and each time you would accept his present and roll your eyes as he laughs. You believe it was in these moments, in the playful jabs, the afternoons spent talking, that you felt the joy of friendship blossom into a yearning unlike anything you've ever felt. It made you happy to be his friend, even if it stings with the wish to be more than that. So you took each visit and savored the moments,

This latest visit was on the shorter side, with him being behind from hunting someone down and he needed to turn them in ASAP. Yet he still stopped in to see you, handing you more of your newfound favorite tea. Time went by fast as you talk and catch up and soon enough he stands, heading for your door before turning to look at you.

"Be safe cyare, don't bring home any strangers." You roll your eyes playfully like always

"You too big guy, watch out for those tree roots on your way out!" Your giggle echoes behind you as he dramatically flings your door open and strolls out to his ship. You follow and wave from your doorway as he leaves, only going inside as you see him fly away. Your heart aches but your usual goodbyes always soften the blow of his absence, the nicknames and inside jokes bringing a smile to your face,

You just wished that you savored that last visit more, wished it had been longer. That last goodbye echoed in your mind as the next month comes and goes with no sign of Mando. Then two months, then three pass with nothing. His voice bounced in your mind, echoing in the silent nights. You knew how dangerous his job was, had seen a small portion of it first hand, but you never questioned the possibility of him just being...gone.

You had no way of communicating with him, knew of nobody else he knew. Asking around the town was hopeless, and with every month that passed, the more your heart cracked open. By the sixth month you just stopped hoping, stopped imagining him walking through your doorway. You continued with life, work, friends, and shopping. Before you always enjoyed taking walks through the forest, but now it left such an ache in your chest, passing the spot near your home where you first met him. Going back and forth to the city was now a dreaded task that you put off as long as possible.

This is where you find yourself now, hurrying past that area with your head down, swallowing down all your emotions. Your only focus right now was to get in the house, put your items away and lose yourself in a book to unwind. You repeat this like a mantra in your mind, focusing so heavily on it that hearing your name almost makes you stumble backwards. Your head snaps up, eyes widening as you take in the sight of Mando walking towards you. The moment feels like it’s in slow motion, feeling so dreamlike and it's not until he touches your face with his gloved hand that the spell breaks. With a gasping sob you throw yourself into his body, holding him for dear life and whimpering out his name as you try to catch your breath.

"Oh cyare, I'm so sorry. I came as soon as I could." He held you right to his chest as he soothes your hair back. He kept murmuring apologies softly in your ear as your cries finally dwelled and you two stand like this, clinging to each other in relief, only breaking away when a soft coo sounds from somewhere behind Mando. You sniffle and peek behind his body, seeing an orb floating midair with a small bundle inside. You look between the orb and Mando before stepping around him and walking forward. Sitting up inside the orb was the cutest little green baby staring up at you.

“Well hi there little one.” you say as you bend down to be at eye level with the baby. He stares at you with his large dark eyes before making another cooing sound and holding his tiny arms out to you. You glance back at Mando who nods, and you carefully nestle the baby in the crook of your arm, being careful of the obnoxiously big ears that now wiggle as he smiles up at you. The baby’s smile widens and he makes an almost purring sound as Mando walks up, placing one hand on your lower back and the other to pat the baby’s head with gentle affection. You smile as you look up at Mando. “Seems like you’re the one picking up strangers now, huh?” The low laugh Mando makes sets your heart leaping from your chest. You must be making a face because he slowly starts to rub circles into your back.

“It’s a long story, but the kid and I can stay awhile If...that’s alright with you?” He seems nervous and hesitant asking this, but on instinct you grab his hand and pull him towards your front door,

“I’ve got all the time in the world Mando. I’ll make tea and food while you talk.”

For the rest of the afternoon and early evening Mando tells you everything that happened with this small bounty, his change of heart, the harrowing close encounters and the overall life on the run these two had endured. While it hurt knowing how hard Mando pushed and fought to keep them safe, it made you happy that he wasn’t alone. It was easy to see how close they had grown, how much of a protective father he has become over this magically inclined green baby.

The baby quickly attaches to you, eating up every ounce of food you offer him, and you give Mando a knowing look as the baby eats every piece of bread, even the crust. As darkness falls, the baby is put to bed, easily going down from his busy afternoon and silence takes over. Mando fidgets, seeming uncomfortable much like his first visit here and it sets you on edge.

After a while he finally breaks the silence. “I’m sorry again, you know it wasn’t safe to come here before. I couldn’t bring any danger to you. I know you were lonely-”

“Wait, wait. Lonely? You think I was upset because I had been lonely?” Your harsh tone cutting him off made Mando pause and shake his head.

“That’s not what i meant cyare-” You stand up abruptly, shaking your head at him, cutting off his words again

“I thought you were dead. This entire time Mando. I thought all I would ever have are the memories of our stories, our jokes, that your laugh would haunt my dreams. Don’t get me started on that damn nickname you call me,” you stop yourself before you wake the baby and try to compose yourself. Your hand goes to your heart, almost shielding it before you force yourself to take a breath and look Mando straight on. “This wasn’t a friend leaving with no contact for months. It meant so much more- you mean so much more.”

Your confession hangs there between the two of you, making the air so thick in its resounding silence that you turn away, but a gentle hold on your wrist stops you from moving away. At his whisper of your name you turn, seeing him stand up slowly.

“Cyare means beloved.”

Those three words knock every ounce of air out of you and you blink away tears as you stare at him in wonder. “Mando does that...mean that you-”

“Yes, for a long time now.” He steps forward and bends his head, bringing your foreheads to touch. You then take hold of either side of his helmet, bringing him down even more so that you press your lips to his forehead. After he lets out a shaky exhale he asks quietly “Do you trust me?”

Without even an ounce of hesitation, you answer “Yes, absolutely I trust you.”

He gently takes your hand and leads you back to your bedroom. He pushes the door open and closes it as you walk in. You hope he can't hear how loud you swallow as he closes the curtains, blocking out the moonlight and plunging the room in complete darkness.

The next moments would be engraved into your mind for the rest of your days. A gentle hiss filled the room before you felt hot air near your face. “Can I kiss you cyare?” His lips are so close to yours and you shiver as your mind struggles to catch up. With a hitch in your breath you realize…

His helmet. He took off his helmet.

With that realization you surge forward, pressing your lips to his and throwing your hands up and forward to bury themselves in his hair. Mando lets out a small gasp at the contact, the true first bit of touch he’s felt on his face, and you take the opportunity to gently slide your tongue inside his mouth; Deepening the kiss makes both of your brains go fuzzy and it's a sloppy and beautiful tangle of lips and tongues. You have no idea how long you two stand there and kiss, learning and exploring each other’s mouths, but you wish with every bit of your heart that this moment, this feeling, everything that you’re experiencing with him will never end.

However it does have to end, and you break apart to catch your breath, noses touching as you both pant. Mando takes no time however, and presses wet kisses all over your face, seeming to not want to keep his lips off of you. You giggle at his affection, pulling him closer to slow his movements, fumbling in the dark to find his lips as you kiss him sweetly before pulling away once more. “Let's catch our breath a bit, Mando.” He’s so close to you, you can feel his lips turn up into a small smile.

"Sorry, got carried away there. I've never…" At his pause you want to smack yourself, remembering just how important this was. To take his helmet off to kiss you, even in the dark? You wonder exactly how inexperienced he is but his voice returns once more. "I don't regret it, this was-this was worth waiting for."

One of your hands leaves his hair and you cup his cheek, feeling the slight stubble beneath your palm. "Oh Mando, I-"

"Din. My name's Din. You can use it if...you'd like to."

You felt his jaw shake under your palm, could damn near taste his nervousness and that just wouldn't do. You whisper his name against his lips before diving back into his kisses. At this his resolve seems to snap and his hands tentatively start to wander from their place on your waist, one tracing up and down your spine while the other grips your hip.

You slowly start to walk him backward towards your bed, but Din surprises you as he flips you two around and falls back, sending you both tumbling onto the bed. The movement was so quick and unexpected you couldn’t help but let out a giggle as you cuddle up to him and continue to press kisses on his lips, the tip of his nose, and back to nip at his jaw. That contentment you both had just standing and kissing in your room fades as his body settles next to yours. You lay on your sides facing each other, sharing kisses wherever you could reach.

Before things could go further, you had a burning question to ask. "Din we can just do this. I don't want to pressure you into more, especially if this is your first time and-"

His laugh was somehow even more enchanting outside of the helmet and butterflies erupt in your chest before bursting into flames as he speaks. "I meant I had never kissed before, I have done...other things before, just with the helmet on."

You can't help but nuzzle his nose with affection before whispering "I want this if you do Din." The moment his pleas left his mouth you threw your leg over his hip and try to grind down on him as you pull him into a searing kiss.

He sighs into the kiss before he pulls away and starts tearing away his armor and clothes. At least that is what you assume he's doing by the dull thuds and clanks and muttered curses. You take the hint too, quickly peeling off your clothes. As you finish you feel his bare hand reach for you and he pulls you back into him, throwing your leg over his now bare hip and putting his lips back onto yours.

This lit a fire in you, unlike anything you’ve known. You wanted him now, needed all of him or else flames would consume every part of you. It took you a moment to realize the high-pitched whine you heard didn’t come from Din. He was currently whispering your name with his hand gripping your hip, stilling your hips.

“I just need, please I just-let me kiss you. I want to taste you, please.” he whispers against your lips and the desperate sound of his voice breaks through the kiss driven lust inside your brain. You remember with a jolt that he’s never kissed anyone, never tasted anyone before,and you take in a shaky breath before rolling onto your back. You couldn’t name what exactly that swell of emotions was inside you as he began to place kisses over your face and down your neck. Knowing that you are the first person he’s ever wanted or trusted to kiss brings a flood of warmth to your chest. That warmth however quickly rushed down to your abdomen as Din licks the hollow of your throat and presses a small kiss there. He takes his time as he kisses down over your heart and further to your breasts

He spends longer there than you expect, very clearly enjoying the feel of them in his hands as he massages and kisses every inch of them. He’s sucked more bruises on your breast than anything but you have no heart to complain. He only stops when you finally beg him to move, and he mutters a quick apology as he kisses and licks to your stomach. His hands move to your knees and prys your thighs apart. As he settles lower to place kisses along your inner thigh he stops. You realize with a rush of heat to your face, just how wet your thighs had become. You had been rubbing them together trying to find any relief as he devoured every inch of your breasts and you didn’t realize just how wet it made you. You suck in a breath as you feel Din’s fingers lightly trace over your slit and he groans as realization also settles in for him.

“We’ve barely...I haven’t even touched you here and you’re already this wet for me?” you can’t help but let out a breathless laugh at his voice, which sounds like he is in complete awe of you. Before you can reply his head dips down, licking your arousal from your thighs. He takes great care in licking both thighs clean and you nearly cry in relief when he licks from your entrance to your clit in one slow movement. You can feel his hands shake as he holds your thighs apart and slowly works you over with his tongue.

You know Din has never done this before, so you let him explore you like this, enjoying the sensations of his mouth all over your pussy. His unsure kisses around your lips, the long licks up your slit gave way to him being more confident with your hums and gasps of approval urging him forward. While it feels amazing, you need more, so you take his hair in your hand and with a slight tug, you get his attention.

“Up here, right here at my clit just-” you let out a choked out gasp as he licks right where you need it. “There Din, just suck there and- and put your fingers inside me, just one to start.” Din was all too eager to please you and gently sucks on your clit while he pushes one of his thick fingers inside you. You kept one hand twisted around his hair and the other to cover your mouth from the very loud moans now tumbling out. With a particularly harsh suckle, you gripped his hair even more, pushing him forward as your hips lift to grind down onto his face. The vibrations from Din groaning into your heat only magnifies the feeling and you melt, doing nothing but writhe and muffling your gasps and moans. As you feel a second finger breach you to join the first, his other hand curling around your wrist near your mouth. You close your lips to try and keep quiet as Din gently pulls your hand down to the mattress and intertwines your fingers together.

“I want to hear you, please, I want to listen to you fall apart.” His lips barely leave you, his warm breath coming out in pants over your sensitive clit, the puffs of air sending goosebumps down your whole body. With that, he returned to licking, sucking, and even biting a little, and soon enough, you did exactly as he asked. You didn’t hold back the sounds and moans spewing from your mouth and you damn near scream his name as a third finger entered you just as your orgasm hit. His fingers never let up their steady rhythm, only slowing when your body releases from its rigid state and you melt into the blankets beneath you. You twitch and sigh as you feel his fingers leave you and his tongue replaces them, gently licking you, drinking up every bit of your release.

As your breathing slows back to normal, you feel Din shift between your thighs, and you hear him grunt as a slick sound fills the room. The heat that melted from your body with your orgasm came back tenfold when you realize those slick sounds were Din stroking his cock. Stroking himself with the hand that was just moments ago finger fucking you, making his cock slick and preparing to enter you. Your every thought was lost in a lusty haze that you didn’t realize you began to murmur the word please over and over again, Din leans over you, pressing his lips to yours softly to quiet you down.

“Are you ok? You want to keep going?” His questions were so sincere, it was made funnier when you realize the fingers cupping your cheek were the same that were buried inside you and stroking his cock only moments before. Grinning, you push forward, kissing the edge of his mouth softly before wrapping your legs around his waist to guide him to fit perfectly between your open thighs.

“Yes, I’m good, please let’s keep going.” With that Din seals his lips to yours and shifts, slowly pressing inside you. You only broke the kiss when Din finally bottomed out, parting to both groan as your walls clenched around him. His thick cock stretches you just enough to almost be painful before it fades out into pure bliss as he grinds into you. You cling to his back as he starts to move. He keeps his thrusts shallow and deep, keeping himself buried in you as much as possible. All you can do is hold on for dear life as he steadily fucks you deeper into the mattress. His lips never leave your skin, mostly he keeps them on your lips to swallow down every gasp you let out. From this angle, his pubic hair was giving just the smallest bit of friction to your clit and while it feels good, you need a new angle. With every bit of force you can muster you clamp your thighs around him and roll the both of you over so you loom over him.

“Was that not good? Was I-" you cut off the questions with a mess of a kiss, and even if he can't see you, you gave him the biggest grin.

"Wanted to try something new. I can't let you always be in control Din, you have to learn to share." And with that you grind down and circle your hips, grinning even more at the gasp and slew of curses that escaped his lips. You set a faster past than before, the fire building inside was growing stronger with each second. Next time you tell yourself, next time you two will take it slow. Right now all that matters is the burning in your belly, the chills crawling up your spine, and Din moaning your name into the dark room.

It seems it is Din’s turn, his patience snapping, he moves his iron grip on your hips to your ass, gripping them as he slams you down onto him as he thrusts up. This sucks every bit of air from your lungs and you fall forward, bracing yourself on his chest as he picks up the pace. Just as your breath returns to you and you moan, the air whooshes back out of your lungs as Din spits out through clenched teeth. “That’s my good girl, I knew you could take my cock so well. So. Fucking. Well.” Each of his last words were punctuated by bone rattling thrusts and you scream into his chest before sitting up, prying one of Din’s hands off your ass, bringing it to your clit. He takes the hint and swirls tight and fast circles around you and it is just what you need. With a broken cry you fall apart, collapsing back onto his chest and groaning into his shoulder. Din holds you close and meets his end after a few more thrusts, clutching your back and burying his face into your hair. You two lie there tangled together until you can catch your breaths. Eventually you lean up and you giggle as you try and fail to find his lips. He chuckles too as your lips find his cheek and chin before finally pressing against his lips. You kiss lazily like this, basking in the afterglow; tongues tangling, your hands twisted in his hair, and his nails slowly tracing lines up and down your back.

Din is the first to pull away, rolling you both over to the side before he starts to pull away.

“No, stay” you mumble groggily, the emotions and actions of the day weighing heavily on your now sated body.

“I’ll be back, we need to clean up.” he huffs as you whine and paw at his body, but Din easily gives in, letting you win this battle. He gladly lets you position him back down, lying flat on the bed as you cuddle into his chest.

“Clean later, just hold me for a bit.” He kisses your forehead and you hum in contentment. As your body falls deeper into relaxing, sleep slowly taking over, you hear him speak quietly, lips till pressed to your head.

“Good night cyar'ika.”

This rouses you from your sleepy state enough to ask, “that one doesn’t mean friend, right?” You smile as you feel his body shake beneath you as he laughs.

“No, it doesn’t mean friend. Good night Darling.”

You both fall asleep with smiles on your faces and hearts fuller than either of you even knew possible.

#sl fic challenge #din djarin x reader #din djarin #the mandalorian fan fic #din djarin x f!reader

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ladeaeveld · 3 years

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Notes on Tevinter Nights

I finished reading Tevinter Nights not so long ago, so here is an overview of what is happening in Thedas. There is probably nothing particularly new since I'm a bit late to the party. However, I find such overviews convenient to refresh my memory when needed. Perhaps it will be useful to someone else!

This overview was meant to be short, but there were so many interesting details... now, it is huge.

Also, since I’ve read the translated version, any help with wording clarifications is greatly appreciated!

The post is under a cut due to Tevinter Nights spoilers (and length).

Global events

- There is a war between the Qunari and Tevinter.

- Three branches of the Qun do not agree with each other. The Antaam, the military branch of the Qun, attacked Ventus and continued the invasion without the permission of the other two. It results in faster progress of the invasion as the other two branches were a moderating influence on the Antaam. The Ben-Hassrath holds a neutral position.

- In Tevinter, the Venatori are still a problem.

- Smaller countries like Rivain and Antiva are under serious threat of the Qunari’s invasion.

- The heads of the Antivan Crows, eight Talons, held a meeting to join their forces, protect Antiva, and withstand the Qunari's invasion. The meeting was disrupted, and four out of eight Talons were murdered. New heads of the Crows will be chosen soon.

- The king of Nevarra is on the brink of death. The Mortalitasi, who have always had great power in Nevarra, continue to interfere in politics.

- All the Grey Wardens were summoned to Weisshaupt.

- We were introduced to a considerable amount of characters from the guild of treasure hunters, the Lords of Fortune.

- Regarding the Inquisition, little is known. All external issues of the organization seem to be handled by Varric Tethras. He gives quests, monitors their implementation, hires new people.

- One of the Executors, or ‘those across the sea’, showed up in the flesh. Solas said they are particularly dangerous and cautioned against interacting with them.

- By now, many have heard rumours of the Fen’Harel’s cult.

Minrathous

- A demon or something far worse is imprisoned under Minrathous. With the help of the Venatori, it is now unsealed (will probably be sealed again later). Yet, to awake it, some blood-magic ritual must be performed.

- The creature was sealed with eight blood-bonded enchanted clay disks. They showed a long and thin four-winged dragon rising from the dark waters.

- It is said that ‘demon’ is not the best word to describe this creature. It is something ancient and mighty, unnamed, something that will subject to god only.

- This ‘demon’ was a part of Corypheus’ plan of making Tevinter great again. According to this plan, Minrathous was to become the cradle of the new world. If Minrathous had not surrendered to Corypheus, the ‘demon’ would have left the city no choice.

- Most of the population of Minrathous could have perished as a result of this creature awakening.

- Enchanted predators and monsters resulting from magical experiments seem to be common in Minrathous.

Elven experiments

- In Nevarra, under a mountain with three asymmetric peaks wrapped around each other, there is a dwarven thaig. This thaig is called Hormak, and it was lost to the darkspawn hundreds of years ago.

- In Hormak, Grey Wardens have found elven halls, where experiments on living were conducted. And it is quite lively in these halls now.

- There is a huge pool with a greyish fluid that reeks of brine. It creates hybrids.

- There were different types of hybrids: darkspawn with other darkspawn, animals with other animals, darkspawn with animals, and even a centipede and a Grey Warden hybrid.

- When a hurlock stepped in the greyish fluid, it was enveloped and then transformed into a drake and a hurlock hybrid.

- The transformed Grey Warden said that the fluid affects ‘them’ (sentient races?) differently. To be transformed, it is not enough to touch it. The fluid should get inside the body.

- All over the place were large repetitive bas-reliefs depicting ancient elven. There were three types of them. The first one showed majestic elven kings and queens with reverent supplicants. The second one showed elven mages healing sick. The third showed big aravels, drawn by herds of hallas, going to distant mountains (one of the mountains had three peaks wrapped around each other).

- Later, those bas-reliefs were described differently. On the first one, elven rulers were arrogant and despised their subjects, who seemed to be in great terror. On the second one, mages weren’t healing sick, but on the contrary, they were injecting corruption into bodies. On the third, a halla had a strange rounded body and very long and ridged horns, and an aravel had bars on its windows, which made it look like a cage.

- Somewhere at the entrance of the halls was one more type of repetitive bas-reliefs. It showed three figures: a supplicant, a priestess, and a monster. On each subsequent bas-relief, a supplicant and a monster were different, while the priestess remained the same. It seemed that with each subsequent bas-relief, her grin grew wider.

- The experiments are directed by some will, which is referred to as a female. ‘She’ is not yet there, ‘they’ are waiting for ‘her’.

- Symbols of horns of a halla are present on each column in the halls.

- According to bas-reliefs, there are twelve such places in total.

The Inquisition members and allies

For completeness, this part should have included information from the comic, but I tried to avoid that.

- According to Tevinter Nights, Varric and Charter remained in the ranks of the Inquisition.

- Charter mentions her lover, Tessa.

- Vaea and ser Aaron show up but without a clear relation to the Inquisition.

- There are two mages, Vadis and Irian, who saved a peaceful Qunari settlement called Kont-aar from an agent of Fen'Harel, thus keeping the chance of subtle peace between the Ben-Hassrath and Tevinter. The Ben-Hassrath returned the favour by directing said mages to Kirkwall, to a certain dwarf, where they intend to go after seeing Val Royeaux.

- Sutherland and Company are still loyal to the ideals of the Inquisition.

- Quentin Calla, who was a bearer of the enchanted clay disk for a while, provided the Inquisition with some information.

- Philliam, a Bard!, (formerly) Sister Laudine, and Brother Ferdinand Genitivi, with the help of the Lord of the Fortune, Mateo, accepted and completed the quest from the Inquisition.

Fen’Harel and the red lyrium idol

- The red lyrium idol's adventures ended. It is now in Solas' hands, or at least he says so.

- There are three descriptions of the red lyrium idol's appearance. The first one, made by the dwarf, the Carta assassin: two figures, too thin to be dwarves, caressing each other. The second one, by Mortalitasi: two lovers or a god mourning the sacrifice. The third, by Solas: crowned figure comforting another one. (Note: I remind you these are not exact quotes but a translation of the translation, and nuances might have been lost.)

- Some qualities of the idol: red lyrium weighs more than the usual one; the idol is liquid inside; it reacts to other lyrium.

- The idol created or revealed a ritual blade.

- Solas calls the idol his.

- The Mortalitasi recounted the events in the Fade in which Solas took a form of a giant wolf the size of a high dragon. He had burning eyes like those of a pride demon and wings of fire which later resolved themselves into lesser demons. The Fade is called his natural home, and it is said spirits serve him gladly.

- Solas pays special attention to the actions of the Inquisition.

- Members of Fen'Harel's cult would rather die than be captured.

- The ritual the Dread Wolf performs already affects the Fade.

Random interesting facts

- The Qunari slowly cut down a part of the Arlathan Forest.

- The Ben-Hassrath are said to know the most about Solas’ actions.

- Among four killed Talons was Giuli Arainai, Eighth Talon, and this might be a good time for Zevran to show up somehow.

- There was a lyrium crystal that produced a light with shades of green and yellow in Hormak.

- Dorian no longer has slaves, only hired labourers.

- Josephine sent Dorian some good Antivan wine. :)

- Vaea now possesses a healing artefact, which seems to be able to heal anything except death.

- There is an example of a dwarven metal prosthetic of a leg, which does not seem to restrict movement in any way.

Since I’ve read Tevinter Nights after the last Dragon Age Day... - Evka became a Grey Warden and did rescue the next one!

- The hunger demon that turned a person into a werewolf in the village called Eichweill was not completely defeated.

- It seems those elven artefacts do strengthen the Veil, after all.

- The Randy Dowager is Ferdinand Genitivi. Five scarves fluttered in shock out of five.

⠀

This is all for Tevinter Nights for now. I did not include plenty of curious facts, probably enough for another post. I hope you enjoyed it anyway!

If you have any corrections regarding facts, or grammar, etc., don’t hesitate to DM me! Or you may leave a comment in my ask box if you want to stay anonymous.

Thank you for the attention, and have a nice day!

#I have made little illustrations for this post!#I will post them separately later #this is the longest text in English I have ever posted on social media #I hope the post is ok #dragon age #tevinter nights #spoilers #spoiler #tevinter nights spoilers #tevinter nights spoiler #dragon age: tevinter nights #dragon age: tevinter nights spoilers #dragon age: tevinter nights spoiler #da #da4 #dragon age 4

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avengerscompound · 4 years

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Running to a Standstill - 18

Running to a Standstill: A Captain America Fanfic

Masterlist PREVIOUS //

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Steve Rogers x F!Reader

Word Count: 2893

Rating: E

Warnings: Smut (mmf bisexual threesome, oral sex, vaginal sex, anal sex)

Synopsis: While on the run from an unknown organization trying to take your son, you meet two super-soldiers. While they try to help you get to the bottom of who is hunting you and your son, feelings come out and admissions are made that make your personal life even more tricky.

Epilogue

Your feet hurt a little and you were hungry to the point that you were considering just tearing a piece off the sourdough loaf you’d bought, and eating it plain before you even finished your ride up in the elevator. Even with these minor discomforts, you felt really good. You had just ventured out to the nearest bodega alone for the first time since moving to the Tower.

It had been eight months since the raid on Madripoor and while everyone had doubts that HYDRA was gone for good the new rightful ruler of Madripoor was pretty thorough with cleaning the NAZI organization out of their nation. Not for any particular need to clear out all criminal organizations mind you, just to clear out the one creating the most competition. Madripoor was for all accounts, still lawless.

All the people involved in the production and distribution of the super-soldier drug had been arrested. You had hopes that the drug might end up virtually extinct the way the Quaalude was now. However, you logically knew someone who still had them would try and replicate them. Given the fact that the drugs existed in the first place because someone was trying to replicate what they’d done to Steve way back in 1943.

What you’d stopped being worried about was them bothering you anymore. The Avengers, thanks to Tony, Vision, FRIDAY, and with a little help from Geo, had managed to remove any details regarding the names of people who were experimented on. Which meant there was no one left to know that Geo had powers and no one left to hunt you. You were safe and you could finally have some semblance of a normal life.

It had taken you a while for any of you to trust that. For a month you still didn’t want to go out at all just in case there was some kind of retaliation or last-ditch effort to grab you. When you finally did it was with Bucky and a group of guards. Gradually the guards dropped in number. When all the HYDRA members were convicted you started to go out with just Bucky and every time you went out, there was no one watching you that shouldn’t be. No one followed you or made you feel unsafe. Sure, Bucky would get looks but you could tell the difference between Avengers groupies and the people who had been trying to kidnap your son.

Today was the first time you’d ventured out alone. It was only down the street and you still weren’t brave enough to take Geo out without at least Bucky or Steve with you, but it was a start. You’d only looked over your shoulder a few times. You’d done this alone for years, you knew what to look out for and it wasn’t there. You were safe.

More than safe, you were happy. With all that weight off your shoulders, you were able to just enjoy life again. Every part of it. Being a mother wasn’t just a case of protection and high alert twenty-four/seven. You played with Geo more. You let your guard down and let him get on with the job of being a kid. You started to look back into the things you had studied in college and were seriously beginning to consider studying again so you might be able to have an actual career and not just a cash-under-the-table job that paid your bills but kept you off the books. You were looking at schools for Geo. You were letting yourself be a girlfriend and opening yourself up to the fact that this could be it. You might have actually found two people that were your people the same way your husband had been.

The apartment was alive with sound and smells as you stepped in. Bucky was cooking, he’d just started when you’d ducked down to the bodega for a couple of missing ingredients and now the whole place was full of the scent of garlic, herbs, and cooking tomato. Music was playing over the speaker and Geo seemed to be talking animatedly with the AI as the two of them played some digital version of snap using his tablet. Steve sat with a sketchbook on his knee. There were crayons scattered over the table from when he’d been drawing with Geo but now he was just sitting with his pencil poised but not actually drawing anything.

“He looked up when you came in and smiled. “Hey, sweetheart. How did you go?”

“Good,” you said, as Bucky abandoned whatever it was he was stirring and rushed over to you. “Got a little jumpy at the alleys but there was nothing to worry about.”

“Did you get what I needed?” Bucky asked, digging around your fabric bag while it still hung from your elbow and fishing out items as he found them.

“Yes, honey,” you said, pushing the whole bag into his hands. “Here take it.”

Bucky took the bag and you went to sit down with Steve and Geo. Steve took your hand as you went to pass him, and you let him pull you down into his lap. “I’m proud of you,” he whispered.

“It wasn’t that big of a deal,” you said. “I used to go out on my own all the time when I was on the run. I didn’t have a lot of other choices.”

Steve’s arm circled your waist and he nosed at the side of your neck. “I know. Still. I’m glad you're starting to feel safe.”

You relaxed in his lap and Geo climbed up onto you. You did feel safe. And loved. And all the things you had missed for three years. Despite the fact you had been trying to go slow for Geo’s sake, it was hard when you felt like this with them. It was clear that Geo was feeling just as safe and at home as you were.

When he was very upset he was still the mommy’s boy he’d always been, but more and more he was turning to Steve and Bucky. Not just when he wanted to be comforted. He did it when he was excited about something, or wanted to play a game, or have a story told to him. He’d ask them to take him out or take him up to the pool. As scary as it was for you to see Geo starting to treat these two men the way he would have his own father, as melancholy as that hit, it was still happening. Geo now had two father figures where he once had none.

Even though neither had said anything about it, you could tell they were seeing Geo as a son too. This was your family now and some moments terrified you, but mostly you couldn’t believe how lucky you were. There were days where you thanked whatever force it was that had led you to not only apply for a lease in Clint Barton’s apartment block but to begin dog sitting for him so that you just happened to be dropping Lucky off at the same time Steve and Bucky were there.

Bucky called you all for dinner and you ate around a table sharing stories about your day and making plans for the following day. Just like a family on an old sitcom, only with extra dads and you all genuinely liked each other.

After dinner you gave Geo his bath and took him to bed, reading to him from a comic about Figment the dragon from that old Disney ride at Epcot. It was a comic that Bucky owned for some reason which was odd because he would have been in cryo freeze during the entire time that ride even existed, yet he had it none-the-less. Geo spent a lot of time looking at each picture so that the thin comic that would normally only take five minutes to get through was being dragged out so it was closer to twenty.

“Bug-key sayed dat dis dwagons was a robod,” Geo said, tapping the cover when you were done reading.

You chuckled. “It was, and it’s weird he even knows that,” you confirmed. “The robot dragon is gone now. We can take you to Disney World some time, then you can see all the different robots. I don’t think any of them will be as smart as FRIDAY though.”

“No…” Geo said, shaking his head. “FWIDAY is da smartest.”

“Thank you, Geo,” FRIDAY replied, the fondness of the little boy evident in her voice.

“Alright, you,” you said, putting the comic away. “Lie down. Time to sleep.”

He flopped back onto the pillow and you kissed his forehead. “Good night, I love you,” you said.

“Wuv you too, mommy,” he replied. “Have sweed dreams.”

“You too, little one.”

“Mommy,” he said as you got up. “I dotta say goodnight to Bug-key and Steeb.”

You chuckled. “I’ll send them in.”

You stepped out of the bedroom to find Bucky and Steve sharing the recliner as they watched the news. “He wants to say goodnight to both of you too.”

“We can manage that,” Steve said as they both got up.

Bucky and Steve went into Geo’s room as you went and got ready for bed too. It was still early but you figured whatever the plans were for tonight, they’d be more enjoyable in your pajamas. When you came out into the bedroom you shared with Bucky and Steve, they were there getting undressed.

“He didn’t cause you any trouble?” You asked.

“No. He just said goodnight and had FRIDAY turn out the lights,” Steve answered.

“I like when I’m here to say goodnight to him,” Bucky added. “He’s so funny how he wishes you sweet dreams too.”

“Yeah, we can use them,” Steve added.

“Speaking of,” you said and looked over at Steve. Lately, when you and Steve had been alone, you’d started talking about Bucky moving in. He was here a lot anyway and the times he wasn’t it felt like he was missing. The three of you still took time to enjoy each other one-on-one, but now you were all happier and more relaxed when it was the three of you.

Bucky froze in the process of stepping out of his jeans and stared at you like a deer in headlights. “What? What did I do?”

“Nothing, Buck,” Steve chuckled. “We were wondering… hoping really, that you’d move in here with us.”

“What? Really?” Bucky said, standing up straight and looking between the two of you.

“Yeah. You don’t have to decide right now…” Steve said.

“No, I want to,” Bucky said, lurching forward, completely forgetting he was still in his jeans and falling flat on his face.

“Bucky!” You yelped, rushing to his side and helping him back up, while Steve watched on with a slightly bemused look on his face.

“I’m okay. I’m good,” Bucky assured you as he got back up and kicked off his pants. “I want to move in. When?”

“Whenever you like,” Steve said. “We can bring your stuff down tomorrow if you like.”

“I do like,” Bucky said. He pulled you close and cradled your face. “Yes, I want to.” He leaned in and kissed you deeply. As the two of you kissed, Bucky reached out to Steve, pulling him closer, so when Bucky pulled back from you, he moved straight to kissing him. You ran your hands down Steve’s chest and nuzzled at Bucky’s neck, nipping at his throat gently.

Bucky pulled back and smirked at you. “You tryin’ to start up some celebrations, huh?”

“Maybe?” You giggled, tugging on his boxers.

“I think that might be something that can be arranged,” Steve teased. He picked you up like you weighed nothing and tossed you onto the bed. You squealed and quickly spread your legs and opened your arms to Bucky as he crawled up your body. He began to unbutton your flannel pajama top and kissed your skin along each new part that became exposed to him. His fingers brushed over your breasts as he pulled the fabric apart and your right nipple, puckered and hardened under the cool metal of his left hand.

Steve took off his boxers and moved up beside you. He leaned in and kissed you. His lips moved slowly against yours and his tongue teased the corner of your mouth. You reached down and massaged his cock. He was already semi-hard and as your palm moved up and down his length and you curled your fingers around his shaft, the blood rushed to it.

Bucky began to grind down against your cunt. You could feel the press of his cock through the fabric of your pants, the thick shaft pushing between your folds and rubbing up and down against your pussy, making your whole body tingle and your cunt start to drip. He leaned down and pulled one of your nipples into his mouth. His teeth pressed against it and you moaned, breaking the kiss with Steve and arching your back so you pushed your breast up into Bucky’s greedy mouth.

Steve moved to his knees, pumping his cock as he looked down at you. You leaned up and lapped over the head as it disappeared and reappeared under the foreskin with each pump of Steve’s hand. He teased the head over your lips and you opened your mouth, letting him guide his cock into your mouth.

As you sucked hard up and down Steve’s shaft, Bucky moved from one breast to the other. His hand slipped down into your pajama pants and he quickly fingered your clit in small circles as he ground his cock against you.

Your whole body buzzed like an electric current was swirling through your veins, making your body thrum. You moaned into Steve’s cock as a hot pit pressed down inside you and your fluids slicked your folds. Bucky pulled back and pulled your pajama pants off. You released Steve’s cock and no sooner had you sat up that Steve was up beside you and pulling you into his lap.

“Mmm… did you want something?” You asked as you straddled his lap and started to grind down on his cock.

Steve cradled your jaw. “I think you know,” he teased. You smirked and leaned in and kissed him deeply. As you dipped your tongue into his mouth, you guided him inside of you.

You both moaned into the kiss and you slowly rolled your hips with his, appreciating the way he stretched and filled you. Bucky got up and grabbed the lube. He moved behind you and kissed your shoulder as he put his hand on Steve’s chest and pushed him back on the bed. You lay down with him, pressing your body against his chest and continuing to bounce on his cock as Bucky lifted Steve’s legs and pushing them up against your sides. He began to apply lube to Steve’s ass, sinking a finger into Steve’s ass.

Steve gasped and bucked up under you. You broke the kiss with Steve and you looked down into his blue eyes. “Feel good, Steve?” You purred.

He groaned and closed his eyes. “Yes. Oh god, yes.”

“You want my cock, Stevie?” Bucky teased.

“Please,” Steve groaned arching his back and forcing his cock up into you deeper.

Bucky took his hand away and slicked his cock. Steve raised his hips needily and as Bucky sunk in Steve groaned and dug his fingers into your hips. You started kissing Steve again and moved with Bucky as he started to thrust. Bucky’s stomach pushed your forward with every snap of his hips, pushing you up and down on Steve’s cock. Steve was breathless and moaning under you both. He reached up and grabbed Bucky’s hand, holding it against your back as the two of you fucked him.

A sheen of sweat began to cling to your skin and your skin prickled. A dull ache built in your cunt, making your walls clench and spasm around Steve’s thick shaft. Steve groaned and his hands opened and closed on your back. You slipped your hand between the two of you and began to finger your clit.

It brought you over. Your orgasm shuddered through you and you moaned loudly. Steve gasped and jerked up under you, coming deep inside your pussy. Bucky kept thrusting. His hand tightened in Steve’s and his hips began to stutter. You kept being bounced forward on Steve’s now softening cock with each thrust of Bucky’s hips. With a groan and a hard thrust, Bucky came.

The three of you slithered into a pile, your breathing coming much more labored than theirs. Bucky rolled on his side and ran his metal fingers down your stomach. “We break you?”

“Mm-hmm…” You hummed. “In the best way.”

“Well we can now do that any time,” he said.

You laughed and pushed him. “Did you forget I have a toddler?”

Bucky hummed and kissed your shoulder.

“Big changes,” Steve said. “It’ll be good though. Us together.”

You smiled and cuddled in between us. He was right. It was a big change. You had been through a lot of change in the last five years, but this was the first one since Geo was born that you felt truly excited about one.

To be continued in Until the End of the World...

#steve rogers #bucky barnes #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes x reader #stucky #steve rogers x bucky barnes #stucky x reader #steve rogers x reader x bucky barnes #captain america fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #reader insert

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ace-in-a-shopping-cart · 4 years

Text

Day 5

Prompt: Any intense emotions your soulmate feels you will also experience.

Word Count: 1,730

Main Taglist: (Send an ask to be added or removed!) @starlocked01, @spoopy-turtle, @lizluvscupcakes, @more-fandon-than-friends, @i-cant-find-a-good-username, @vindicatedvirgil, @star-crossed-shipper, @justaqueercactus, @gayboopnoodle, @sanderssidesweirdo, @the-sympathetic-villain

Soulmate taglist:(Send an ask to be added or removed!) @elizabutgayer, @melodiread, @tsshipmonth2020, @mikalya12

CW: Panic attacks, anxiety, mentions of self depreciation, mentions of horror.

Logan felt another burst of anxiety deep in his gut and sighed. This was the tenth time in three days, he was starting to be worried for his soulmate. He focused on his breathing, feeling for the familiar tug of emotion. After years of doing this, he’d ‘hacked the system’ so to speak by figuring out where the emotional connection was in his head. Once he’d figured that out, it was a simple matter of pushing emotions across it. So, he did that. He pushed a strong calm over to his soulmate, hoping their anxiety would lessen. He breathed out a sigh of relief when it did, when the pit of doubt left his stomach and his throat opened back up, when he didn’t have to struggle to keep his thoughts clear instead of giving in and drowning in the hate his brain spewed at him in that moment.

He hated the way the anxiety made him feel but also knew that his was tame compared to his soulmate’s. To combat it, he started happy stimming, flapping his hands near his face until he was grinning. He didn’t realize he was pushing his happiness through the connection until he felt the joy being radiated back. He stopped stimming, letting his hands falling back onto the library cart bring him out of his thoughts and remind him of his current task: to reshelf books.

Logan loved working at the library. He loved getting to read as much as he wanted, to have the ability to interact with a bunch of people or choose to stay by himself. The best thing about working in the library is that he got to see people’s faces light up when they found a book. Whether it’s the next book in a series they were reading, a book they’d almost forgotten about, one they had cherished memories of as a child, or a new one they were finding for the first time, he loved seeing the different expressions on peoples faces.

Today would be a good day for that as the library had invited a local author to come in and read his books aloud. Not many knew this, but he had two different pen names. One he used to write children’s books, the other was used to write horror stories with the main focus being human vs nature. Logan had researched the man extensively last night, not getting to sleep until a few hours before he had to get up for work.

The door jingled and a man in a hoodie walked in, making his way over to the children’s section. Logan watched him go, wondering what brought him here today, the reason for his visit to that particular section. When Logan saw him reach out a brush a spine, a soft smile lighting his face, he knew it was a nostalgic visit. He went back to his work, finishing in the adult section and moving to the children’s.

He saw that the tall man had sat down in a comically small chair compared to his height, his leg bouncing in some sort of anticipation. Logan felt the anxiety curling into his stomach again, making him want to curl up on the ground or scream in an emotion he was unable to put words to. Instead, he finished putting the books away and walked up to the man, ignoring the voice in his head that was telling him everyone was watching him at all times.

“Are you waiting for someone?” Logan sat on the ground beside the man, watching the way his head ducked further into his hood.

“Something like that.” The man muttered. His fingers were pulling on his sleeves even while his leg was vibrating. There was something unknown but familiar in the man that made Logan curious about him.

“You look like you could use a distraction.” He said, finally pinpointing the reason the man looked just the slightest bit off.

He chuckled but Logan knew there was little to no mirth in it. “Sure, that’d be nice.” Even so, his voice was genuine.

So, Logan started talking about bookbinding and the differences between modern and medieval Europe. He talked for a half hour or so. During that time, he felt the knot of anxiety untie and slip away, his thoughts clear, and an almost giddy sensation come from across the bond. He paused and realized that the giddiness was coming from him and being reflected back across the bond like a loop.

Logan smiled at the man sitting next to him, carefully watching him. He was no longer hunched into himself, no longer hiding from the world. He seemed to be relaxed, his shoulders were down and his head was up, hood thrown back. His leg was no longer bouncing and his hands were no longer tugging at his sleeves. He had a smile on his face and, in that instance, Logan was sure he could talk to this man for hours and never lose his attention.

Logan didn’t resume talking about his latest hyperfixation, glancing at his watch instead. “I need to get ready.”

The man reached out as Logan stood, helping him up but also glancing at his watch before a panicked look crossed his face. “Shoot, is it really that time already?”

Logan nodded. “My watch is always on time. Do you have somewhere to be?”

“Here. I just didn’t expect time to fly so fast.”

“Well, you know what they say about having fun.” Logan began tidying up the area, getting the small chairs and soft sitting surfaces to face the chair the man was sitting in as it seemed to be against the wall already. He found the copy of the book that was to be read and placed it on the table nearby before standing by the door.

The head librarian walked up to Logan. “What have you been doing with V. A. Strand this whole time?!”

Logan’s head would have spun around if he were in a cartoon. “What do you mean? Are you telling me that the random man I helped down from a near panic attack is the author who’s reading to the children today?!”

She looked at him like he was stupid. “Of course!”

Logan looked back to see the man, V. A., smiling and greeting all the children and parents who filed in. He politely refused autographs and pictures but did allow the children hugs, which Logan thought was sweet. He hadn’t realized he’d been talking to one of his favorite authors of all time about bookbinding of all things for half an hour. Logan shook his head, perfectly content with the way the conversation went, the way he was able to calm the man down, the smile he got at the end of it. None of that time was wasted, neither was it made more special simply because he now knew the man’s identity. It was simply a slightly shocking discovery.

He nodded at that thought and turned back, watching the way V. A didn’t have to look at the book, knowing exactly which words were on which pages, what the pictures looked like. Logan wondered how many late nights he spent, pouring his ideas into words. Logan knew the man illustrated his own books and wondered how long it must take.

The reading was over before Logan was aware. About halfway through, he’d been told to get back to work so he grabbed a new cart and was at it reshelving books. He tried to listen in to the reading, wanting to keep talking with and to V. A., someone he’d only exchanged a few words with but he was already desperate to know their opinion on anything and everything. He wanted to know what he had rattling around in that head. After all, no one can be that quiet without having something on their mind. True, they could simply be quiet, but that meant they were either allowing their mind to wander or they were having thoughts on the discussion. Either one deserved to have those thoughts heard and appreciated.

Logan hadn’t noticed the reading was over until a hand tapped him on the shoulder. He turned his head to look and found the object of his thoughts staring back at him, hand retreating back into his hoodie pocket. Logan smiled. “Can I help you with something?”

He nodded. “I think we might be soulmates?” The sentence came out as a question rather than the statement he surely must have meant.

Logan’s smile only faltered slightly in shock, the thought never having crossed his mind before then. “Why do you think that?”

He seemed to draw into himself, his shoulders rising and his head ducking down the slightest bit. Logan wanted to reach out and hold his hand, to tell him everything was going to be fine. He didn’t, instead, he waited for him to speak. “Earlier when you helped calm my anxiety, I could feel a calm and almost giddy feeling as you talked. I don’t find bookbinding particularly delightful so I knew it had to come from someone else. I don’t know, I guess you seemed to be the obvious choice.” He shook his head. “Sorry, it sounds stupid now.”

He turned to go but Logan reached out a hand and gently grabbed his elbow. His hoodie fabric was as soft as it looked. “Hey, no. It’s not stupid. I hadn’t thought of it until now, too caught up in enjoying talking with you, but it feels like it’s possible. You wanna test it?”

He turned back, leaving Logan’s hand on his elbow. “How?”

“How many times have you panicked or had excessive anxiety over the past three days?”

“Including both times today? Eleven.” The statement was accompanied with a wince of embarrassment, as if he were ashamed of having emotions.

Logan nodded, a smile splitting across his face. “That’s as many times as I’ve felt it from you.” His shrug was much more nonchalant than V. A.’s was just now. “So, do you wanna get a donut from the shop down the street and chat sometime soon?”

He laughed. “That sounds nice. Although, I guess we should exchange names and numbers as well.”

They did so and V. A., no Virgil, walked out the library door, waving to Logan on his way out.

#tsshipmonth2020 #analogical #adhd!logan #writer!virgil #virgil sanders #logan sanders #hidden identity #ace writes

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lykegenia · 3 years

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Nate Sewell x Leah Kingston, hurt/comfort

I manage to make it all the way to my apartment and into pyjamas before I wobble. It’s just as well – getting into a crash because I was too teary-eyed to see the road would have been an embarrassing way to go – and at least the hour is late enough that none of my neighbours are around to bear witness to my return. Now that there’s time and distance between me and the warehouse, the adrenalin has faded enough for my stomach to start growling again. Hunger is a practical problem, one that I know how to solve.

Nothing in the fridge will make a proper meal, but the jar of kimchi and the leftover sausages can be cobbled together with one of the packets of instant ramen Nate shoved to the back of my cupboards with a distasteful curl of his lip. It’s ready fast enough that there’s not much time to dwell, but not even the care I take to make it look fancy, garnished with chives from the new pot on the windowsill, can make it taste of more than cardboard. I force it down anyway. The blank wall opposite the sofa stares back at me as I sit, curled up, trying to figure out what to do with my evening now that my plans have gone sideways. The sting in my eyes is easily blamed on the spice in the noodles.

Reading is out of the question, I need something to do with my hands. After a long moment, I set the bowl aside and cross the room to get the workbasket sitting half-forgotten down the side of one of the bookcases. The rag rug unfolds in my hands, creased from long storage. I started it in the quiet nights after Murphy’s capture, intending it to cover the cold tiles of the kitchen floor, the repetitive action of tying knots in strips of fabric almost as good as sleep when sleep eluded me. The only choice to be made with it is what colour to choose next, a simple, easy decision without any consequences at all. And silent, so the neighbours aren’t bothered by the noise of power tools in the wee hours. I had intended to have it finished weeks ago.

I’m completing the fourth new row when someone knocks on the door. The time blinking on my phone screen brings a frown to my face, the deep silence tingling over my skin. As unlikely as a trapper would be to knock, I lay my work aside and reach for the Volt gun stashed in the drawer of the coffee table. My feet make no sound as I creep to the door. The shadow cast by the hall light moves at my approach nonetheless, as if coming to attention, and I risk a glance down to check the safety.

And then I look through the peephole.

It’s Nate. He glances up as if the door isn’t even there, his expression a tight knot of worry clear even through the distortion of the lens as a breath shudders between my teeth. The Volt seems ridiculous now. Flicking the safety catch back on, I shove it into the utility cupboard beside the door and take a swift inventory of myself, smoothing a hand through my hair and across my cheeks before I dare lay it on the door handle.

He answers my smile as I swing the door open, but it’s guarded. “Hi.”

“Hi.” I can’t hold his eyes. “I wasn’t expecting anyone so late.”

“If I woke you –”

“You didn’t.” A pause. “It’s good to see you.”

“You’ve no idea –” he starts, then interrupts himself. “You’ve been crying.”

“No.”

“Yes, you have.” Because of me, he doesn’t say, but it’s easy enough to read in the tightness around his eyes.

“Alright, yes, fine,” I grumble, as something harsh squeezes in my chest. “Human lie detector. You should come in.”

As I step aside there’s a heartbeat before he crosses the threshold, ducking his head to avoid a collision with the door lintel, and then he pauses just inside the living room, shifting the weight uneasily between his feet.

“But I’m not human,” he says, with no trace of his usual humour. A shiver runs across my shoulders as I lock the door behind him.

“You’re close enough.”

When I turn back to face him, his features are contorted into incredulity. “How can you say that after what almost happened?” he demands. “What I almost did?”

He reaches for me, but the hand curls back around the words that stick in his throat before he can touch me. The shake of his head informs the shape of them anyway, what I knew they would be.

“If you’ve come to break up with me because of one stupid accident you can come back and do it in the morning,” I snap. “I’m not dealing with it now.”

The shock that meets such a blunt statement might have been comical in other circumstances, but there’s also the flicker of other emotions beneath the surface that pass too quickly for me to recognise. For a long, speechless moment the space between us unfolds with all the paths the brewing argument might take. Finally, with a helpless shrug, he licks his lips and makes a choice.

“I’m dangerous, Leah.”

“I think you proved tonight that you’re not,” I retort. “Not to me. Otherwise I wouldn’t be standing here.”

He flinches, hunching over as if winded. “You have no idea how much I wanted to – how tempting it was. It keeps playing through my mind.”

“Nate, I’m fine.” I dare a step towards him. “Everything’s fine. I’m not even bleeding anymore – you can stop worrying.”

When he doesn’t respond, the hopeful smile falls from my lips as I turn away. It’s a fight to keep my hands from wrapping around myself, from betraying exactly how lonely it feels with him so far away, but I won’t give in to the urge. They bunch into fists at my side instead; I’ll be able to wallow as much as I want after he leaves.

He notices. A gaze soft and full of regret falls on me as he crosses the floor, and my skin burns where his fingertips brush my arm. “I’ll always worry about you, and… I’ll always want to know that you’re alright.”

“I’m fine,” I insist.

His touch falls to my injured hand, to the plaster on my finger. “I frightened you.”

“A little.” I swallow. “But it wasn’t just fear.”

He’s closer now than he was in the kitchen, brown eyes heavy on mine, shadowed by a frown as he tries to work out my meaning. Maybe in the end the flush in my cheeks give it away, because he blinks at last and his mouth falls open, held taut as if he can’t decide whether to advance or retreat, and the embarrassment of the whole thing forces me away with a huff of laughter and a ragged hand shoved through my hair. It doesn’t say much for my sense of self-preservation that I’m turned on by my boyfriend’s predatory instincts, especially when guilt twists so clearly at the corner of his mouth, but he deserves the honesty.

“No one’s ever looked at me with such… intensity before,” I mumble, staring past his left ear. “And I noticed you weren’t staring at my hand. It felt like you wanted… well.”

He hooks a finger under my chin. “I’ve never wanted to kiss you more.” With the confession spoken his gaze drops to my mouth, his fingers turning to trail along the curve of my jaw and down my neck, reverent over the sparking line of my pulse, and he leans closer. “But it might not have stopped there, not once I’d tasted you.”

“You really are like the hero in a vampire romance novel.”

A laugh breaks from his lips at the unexpected tease, my face cradled in his hands as he brings his forehead gently down to mine. “I’m glad you think so.”

“Can I kiss you now?” I ask, winding my arms around his neck. The moment hangs between us – there shouldn’t be any trace of blood left, but Nate is always cautious, always considerate.

“Nothing would make me happier,” he murmurs.

My smile bows against the pad of his thumb, and then the press of his mouth as he closes the last of the distance. After everything that’s happened, the relief of his touch is like a physical thing, setting a tremble in my knees that I’m glad no one else can see. Strong arms wrap more tightly around me to keep me standing, the scent of leather and rain that always follows him as soft as the kisses slanted across my lips.

The movement shifts our positions a little and I pull away at the unexpected sensation it brings, a sharp prod against my stomach.

“What is in your pocket?”

He laughs again. “Maybe I’m just happy to see you.”

“Then I have some serious anatomical concerns.”

Still chuckling, he lets his hands fall from my shoulders and after a moment of rummaging produces a small, square tin from one of the oversized pockets in his leather jacket. The series of Chinese-style paintings decorating the sides suggest that at one time or another it was used for tea, probably directly imported from some small, artisan family business, knowing Nate.

“They were meant to be dessert, but they won’t keep,” he says in explanation.

Curious, I take the offering and pry off the lid. Inside is a nest of soft, crisp tissue paper, and hidden beneath the topmost layer –

“Macarons?”

I hardly dare to breathe. The smooth, round shells are unmistakeable, their sugary almond scent immediately conjuring an image of the old tearoom where I first tried them, complete with pristine white tablecloths and fussy porcelain teacups.

They’re a pain to make, and I’ve never tried. Not only do all the measurements have to be precise, the process followed to the letter, but humidity or a wind from the north or the wrong moon phase can ruin them, and you’d better hope you don’t have plans for the rest of the day. They’re also far too expensive to buy regularly on a cop’s salary. With anyone else I’d wonder what occasion I’d forgotten, or the reason for trying to butter me up, but Nate is just… like this.

“You made me macarons.”

“They’re not perfect,” he cautions, reaching out.

I shake my head. “Yes they are.” They’ve even been dusted with glitter powder, which I suspect is a touch added by Felix – Nate’s romantic but he would never deign to be gaudy. “Thank you.”

“After ruining dinner I thought at least I could give you these.” He shrugs before I can contradict him. “Thank you, by the way, for clearing everything up.”

“Of course,” I answer, reaching for his hand. “Will you stay?”

“I would like that.”

Flashing a smile, I hand back the tin of macarons so I can clear away enough space on the sofa for us both to sit. The scattered rags are stuffed back into the workbasket with the scissors, and the tape measure fished from its attempted escape down the side of the cushions.

Nate helps fold the rug. “I haven’t seen this before,” he says. “It’s pretty.”

“It’s just something I do in spare moments.” I shrug. “Actual crochet is a bit beyond my skill level, but it’s nice to have something to do that doesn’t require thinking. What’s that smile for?”

“No reason in particular,” he murmurs, once more stepping close. “Every time I think I can’t be luckier to have you in my life, you prove me wrong.”

I have to drop my gaze, stammering against the urge to protest. “You’re the one making me fancy desserts.”

“I have to find something to do while you sit buried under all that paperwork,” he teases. “Shall we enjoy them?”

His hand stretches out in offering, and with it he draws me down to his side, patient while I get comfortable, tucked up under his arm safe and small and enveloped in warmth. A kiss brushes against my forehead. Even after months, I still marvel at how Nate can make my apartment feel so much more like a home just with his presence, and as he tilts the macaron tin towards me, knowing how easily I might have gone without it tonight – how I would have thought it normal, once – turns the gesture into something even sweeter.

#the wayhaven chronicles #twc #nate sewell #nate sewell x detective #nate sewell x f!detective #nate x leah #leah kingston #my writing

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wedreamedlove · 4 years

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Into Your World [Xu Mo Character Study]

I'm back with another post that's been rattling around in my brain, except it's a bit disconnected. However, there's been a theme that I've wanted to focus in on with Xu Mo: each other's worlds, their dreams (goals and/or fancies), and water imagery.

Contains spoilers for Chapter 24 and unreleased dates in ENG.

First, I want to give a disclaimer that MC is pretty much the only person who can get into the mens' inner worlds, and that's why they're the romantic main characters; but there's just something a little poignant with Xu Mo because of his archetype.

Li Zeyan's archetype makes him belong to another world because of his wealthy background and social status. Zhou Qiluo's archetype makes him belong to another world because it's the dark side of humanity, and he actively tries to keep MC away from that. Bai Qi's archetype is how they're already in the same world and they just need to open up to each other LOL he's the guy next door.

However, Xu Mo's archetype is literally the alienated genius [Official Life History] since he was a child and, after he lost his parents, he just threw himself into his studies and goals and didn't bother making connections with anyone.

Xu Mo: Mm, I graduated early.

Xu Mo's tone was normal, as if it were a matter unrelated to him and there was no sense of pride at all. However, it still made people impressed.

MC: So, when you were in high school, you spent all your time studying?

Xu Mo: At that time, yes.

MC: Why?

Xu Mo: Silly, why are there so many why's? It's just like when you were going to take your entrance exams, there were things I also needed to do.

[Blossom Date - CN Translation]

Heck, even now, MC is the only one he replies to in his Moments [Official Character Profile].

Since the moment we meet him, he takes on the "mentor" role and teaches MC about things. She mentions this all the time, about how he teaches her the laws of the world, etc. Xu Mo is innately part of another world because the realm of geniuses is not supposed to be understood.

However, this isn't a one-way street. Just as we can't understand them, they can't understand us. So, as MC makes an effort to understand Xu Mo, he is also making an effort to understand her.

IMO this is what makes the following interactions extremely tender and romantic.

MC: The white noise you recommended last time was really effective! Lately, my work efficiency has gone up!

Xu Mo: That's good.

Xu Mo: But, instead of your work efficiency, I hope it was useful for your sleeping problem.

MC: Recently, I listen to the sound of rain before sleeping. It feels like everything around me gets quiet when I relax and listen to it.

Xu Mo: It seems like our preferences are the same. I also like to listen to the rain when I'm relaxing.

Xu Mo: The sound of rain droplets striking the roof is calming, isn't it?

MC: It's great collecting only the sounds you like and then completely entering your own world.

Xu Mo: Then, will you also let me hear those sounds?

Xu Mo: I'd like to hear your world.

By the way, given the timeline of this conversation, this is an incredible foreshadowing of his [Nightmare ASMR].

One time, when I was studying in England, I spent months finishing a particularly tricky piece of my dissertation. After I sent it through the mail, it was already nine in the morning. I was a bit tired and planned on sleeping. The weather in England is often rainy, so it was also raining that morning and it was dark. The sound of the rain striking the windowsill was clear and it sounded soothing too.

Then, there was the sound of a piano from below. It was Chopin’s Nocturne, and played very well. Every note mixed in with the sound of the rain… unhurried drops, pitter-pattering. All was quiet, as if I was separated from the world. I stared at the curtains that were being lifted by the wind and, before I knew it, I fell asleep.

[...]

Although I don’t remember it at all anymore, I dimly feel that when I was small I also experienced a night like this. The sound of the rain, the sound of the piano… Outside the window, it’s very, very cold. I can hear the sound of the wind striking the window. And in my half-awake and half-asleep state, I’m put into a warm embrace… Closing my eyes like this… I’m able to sink into a deep, deep sleep… Just like… this right now…

[Fastened Door to the Heart]

MC: From time to time, I just want to go to your world and take a look.

Caption: Actually, I'd rather go to your world and take a look.

So, anyway, going back to the theme of entering each other's inner worlds. You can see it explicitly said here in the Reading Date. They basically exchanged reading material because she wants to understand him, with his complicated science book, and he wants to understand her, with the comics she read when she was young.

Okay, now we're going to switch tracks for a bit and this might seem disconnected (I warned you!), but take my hand because I'm definitely trying to go somewhere with this.

Part of understanding someone's world is learning about their inner thoughts, their dreams, their wishes, their fantasies, however silly or childish or abstract all of these can be.

This is also an incredibly huge point with Xu Mo because, through MC, we're supposed to feel a sense of pressure from such an accomplished scholar character, but he always works hard to diminish that sense of intimidation and presence [Xu Mo's EQ Character Study] and he never demeans her interests or makes her feel lesser for her intelligence.

Xu Mo: Either way, there must be something that only you can create.

MC: Something only I can make... Ah, I know!

Getting an idea, I divided the batter in my hands into two and made a fish and a wing.

I tried combining the two, but something felt missing.

Xu Mo, who came to my side at some point, took a spoon and used it to make scales on the back of the fish.

Xu Mo: Don't you think it looks more like one with this?

Xu Mo: Can you tell me why you thought of this?

MC: ... You won't laugh when you hear it?

Xu Mo: I think it depends on what you tell me.

MC: Then I won't tell you!

Xu Mo: I'm kidding. Will you tell me?

I didn't have anywhere to run when he looked at me and so, cornered, I told him a childish thought that I had never told anyone up to now.

MC: When I was small and I heard the story of Qixi, I thought the Milky Way was a real river with water running through it.

MC: So I ended up worrying over whether the swallows would have an accident, fall into the water, and drown...

MC: I thought that'd be sad for the swallows and so I lied to myself the entire time.

MC: That the ones who made the bridge for the weaver girl and cowherd where flying fish.

I moved the flat fish with its wing in front of him while I spoke, making it fly clumsily.

Xu Mo burst out laughing, as if he wasn't able to hold it back. My face turned bright red from the embarrassment and I returned the fish to the desk.

MC: It's really stupid, isn't it...

Xu Mo: Silly girl, you have batter on your face.

He wiped my face with the pad of his finger. There was a smile that he couldn't suppress on his mouth.

MC revealed her inner child to him, which she had never told anyone else, and he doesn't judge her for it. Please tell me you can feel the tenderness radiating out of this interaction!

Now, although the above interaction was Qixi-themed, I still find it intriguing that she replaced the swallows with (flying) fish. Because Xu Mo is all about water imagery [Xu Mo Character Study] and this appears in their next interaction below.

[Sonnet In The Eyes] "It looks like I'll be inside your most beautiful dream for certain."

I'm not going to do line quotes here because it's too long LOL but in this date, Spring Morning, they end up having a conversation about dreams and, one time when Xu Mo dozed off in his lab, he dreamed that he was a fish.

His surroundings were dark and he couldn't see the state of the water but, with a thought, he could swim a long distance. When he opened his mouth, only bubbles would come out. When he raised his head, he would see the light filtering through the waves. Sometimes, he would hear the chirps of birds transmitted through surface of the lake.

He knew he was dreaming, because he's a light sleeper, but he still observed how the wind seemed to blow above the lake and that it was the height of summer. Maybe, when it got dark, he'd be able to see the stars and fireflies. He thought about asking another fish for directions but he couldn't find anyone around him. Then he woke up.

At that time, he had run into problems in his work and, even after half a year, there was no progress. In his dream, he rashly thought that if he really was a fish then he wouldn't need to work. But, after he woke up, he suddenly had a flash of inspiration. Later, he concluded that this dream was able to let him relax a little, set his mind blank, and that's when he could get back to work.

Look at him tell MC about his dreams, reveal his struggles, and reveal his inner thoughts. He's telling her about the time when, even someone like him, met with difficulties and felt the urge to just throw it all out and give up. He's letting her into his world and that's love, baby!

Psst, don't forget about the water imagery with him being a fish.

[Flowers on the Path] "I thought it over a thousand times, and then there came a reply."

Xu Mo: Are you home already? I saw the photo you sent me.

MC: Mhm, I just got home.

Xu Mo: Lately, you've been sending me photos of clouds. Is there any special meaning behind them?

MC: Not really. I just wanted to share with Professor Xu, who is always cooped up in his lab, a good way to reduce stress.

Xu Mo: Oh? What is it?

MC: First, look at the picture.

Xu Mo: Mm, I'm looking.

MC: Then close your eyes and imagine yourself as that cloud. Tell me, what do you see?

Xu Mo: I seem... to only see pitch darkness?

MC: Pfff, I mean you can use your imagination. For example... what sights you see and what you feel.

Xu Mo: Alright, I see... a clear sky and bright sunlight. Sometimes... birds will fly past.

MC: Will they say hello to you?

Xu Mo: They'll slow down and roll around on me, frolicking.

MC: Haha, and then?

Xu Mo: And then I'll drift around leisurely like this until I see another cloud. Although it's our first meeting, I'll feel like I've known her since a long time ago.

MC: Maybe she feels the same way.

Xu Mo: So we'll click immediately and slowly lean against each other.

MC: Hahaha, as expected of our Professor Xu! Your imagination is so rich.

Xu Mo: This method really is effective and it can let me clear out my mind. After resting for a while, even my feelings are much calmer.

MC: Oh! Then Professor Xu will have two methods of relieving stress now.

Xu Mo: Two?

MC: Yup, during the day, you can look at the sky and imagine yourself as a free floating "cloud"; at night, in your dreams, you can be a "fish" swimming in the great sea with no restraints. Like this, regardless of whether it's day or night, you can say goodbye to your worries.

Xu Mo: Haha, I have to go up into the sky and then down into the water. Why do I feel like I'm even busier?

MC: Hahaha, that's true.

Xu Mo: However, compared to these, I have another method which I like even more.

MC: Oh? What is it?

Xu Mo: It's staying beside "another cloud" or "another fish". Even if we don't do anything, it can get rid of an entire day's worth of exhaustion and I'll be able to get a good rest. May I ask what she thinks about this method?

[Reducing Stress - Call]

Callbacks. I love PG's callbacks so much.

But, linking this back to everything, they're both exercising their imagination together and it shows their inner world more to each other. Not to mention, they literally bring back how he once dreamed about being a fish to escape the stress of his work.

Now, I'm changing gears again, but this time I want to talk about the physical world they're both in and how their different philosophies set them on opposite sides. I wrote about the [Use of Horror in Ch19 Study] and how, in that chapter, you can see her greatest fears manifested in what Ares does there, but also what she resolves herself to do.

They literally walk away from each other because, according to Xu Mo, their "destinations" were different from the very beginning.

However, when we get to Chapter 24...

MC: ... What if the future we both want is different? I might become your obstacle.

Xu Mo: Right now isn't the time to come to a conclusion.

Xu Mo: Reality will inevitably have pain. However, to run away from reality because of that will just lead to more regret.

Xu Mo: I'm certain the future you wish for will be beautiful and it'll be able to touch anyone's heart.

Xu Mo: You're going to take me to that sort of future. Right?

MC: ... Yes!

MC: But after the worlds become one, even if I fail then I won't be able to do things over again. If that happens...

Xu Mo: Everything will end.

Xu Mo: But that's the path you chose, right? I believe in your choice.

Xu Mo: This time, I'll follow behind you.

He had always been walking in front of me, but now he was entrusting himself to the choice I believed in.

I made my decision.

MC: Follow me closely then.

Xu Mo grabbed my hand and lightly swung it.

Xu Mo: Is this good?

My cheeks burned and I spoke incoherently.

MC: Then... don't ever let go!

Xu Mo: Mm, I'm holding on tightly.

He showed a gentle smile that was like the sunlight of spring.

Before I knew it, our fingers intertwined and it was like we exchanged a quiet promise.

I looked at our joined hands and something hot suddenly welled up in my heart.

In this immense space-time, there were countless obstacles stretched ahead of us. For a long time, we both walked with our backs to each other.

There were still unsolved mysteries between us, but now I felt like I could face anything.

This time it was my turn to pull his hand and run towards that spring without stopping.

That's love! This is love! He loves her so much!

From the beginning, Xu Mo and MC were people in different worlds (their innate nature and their philosophies) but, throughout their relationship, they both keep making efforts to understand each other and enter each other's inner worlds.

It literally culminates here in Xu Mo willing to set down his beliefs and follow hers. He's trusting in her vision of the future and that's basically a proposal from someone like him.

I literally don't have anything else to say without devolving into sappy poetry or romantic lines or something, but these two have laid their souls bare to each other and accepted every side of the other person, regardless of how alien, childish, vicious, ugly, or weird it can be. Literally, "If we want the rewards of being loved we have to submit to the mortifying ordeal of being known."

#love and producer #mlqc #mr love queen's choice #mlqc lucien #mlqc xu mo #love and produc(ing) meta

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vindicatedvirgil · 4 years

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in the library / logicality

for those of you who don’t know, i’m in a master’s degree program studying to become a librarian right now. so, yeah, i spend (or, you know, spent, before coronavirus) a lot of time working in public libraries and learning about libraries and studying.

so, here, a logicality human au. Patton is a Children’s Librarian and Logan brings his two sons, Roman and Remus, into the library. wanna know more about librarianship and how it’s actually a really hard thing to do? i’m always happy to answer questions. i am so Patton here.

includes: dad!Logan, eventual logicality, adopted kid!Remus and kid!Roman trying to get the two together, lots of fluff so please prepare your hearts

wordcount: 5133

(masterlist)

Patton looked down cheerfully at the child he was helping. His biggest joy in life came from helping young kiddos find their perfect book; whether it’s because they’ve read all of the popular stuff and need something new or if they are reluctant readers who need something to pull them in to reading as a hobby, Mister Patton always has something for them. And when he wasn’t doing reader’s advisory, he was trying his darndest to diversify their collection, run storytimes for the littles, and set up a book club for those almost-teens. Sure, most days he went home completely exhausted, feet aching in his sneakers, a dull headache poking at the back of his eyes, but it was all worth it. Even on the days that he had to deal with parents who tried to force their kids to read their childhood favorites or parents who complained about Patton’s Pride Month book display (which he was very proud of) didn’t deter him from doing what he loved.

He never turned away a question or passed it along to a coworker. Sometimes he would ask for recommendations from his fellow librarians but for the most part, Patton stuck to his guns and did his best for every single patron that came in, regardless of what they wanted.

One afternoon, a tall man with glasses and a dark blue tie came in with his twin sons, one dressed in red and the other in green. Patton gave them a warm smile.

“Hello there! Is there anything I can help you find today?” He asked cheerfully, looking between the three. The boy in red spoke up first.

“Do you have any new fantasy books that have dragons and princes?” He asked excitedly. The boy in green rolled his eyes, and the dad set a hand on his shoulder.

“Roman doesn’t judge you for what you like to read, Remus, don’t judge him,” He said. Patton stood up from his seat behind the desk.

“Have you checked out our new books display?” He asked, walking the three over. “These three books right here are some incredible new fantasy books, perfect for kids your age who love knights and dragons. I’d take them all, give them a try. Always read the first few pages and if you can’t get into it, set it down and try something else. It’s never good to force yourself to read something you don’t want to, unless it’s for a school assignment,” Patton explained. Roman smiled brightly, taking the three books in his hands, turning towards his dad.

“Thanks!! Dad, can I go sit on a chair and start reading?” The man nodded and Roman leapt towards some of the reading chairs. Patton turned his gaze to the boy named Remus.

“Alright, and what are you looking for, kiddo?” He asked, smiling. Remus frowned, crossing his arms.

“Got any horror comics?” He asked. His dad sighed, but gave a nod to Patton, who led the two over to the graphic novel collection. He selected a few of the best comics for his age, and suggested some other ones. Remus went over to sit and read, and the dad smiled weakly.

“Thank you, er-”

“Patton,” He smiled, holding out his hand. The man took it and shook it once, the firm grip startling the librarian. “Or Mister Patton, whatever you’d prefer.”

“Logan,” was all that the tall man said, glancing over at his sons. “They’ve needed a distraction lately. I just adopted them. They’ve had a rough time at school, Remus especially. He can be… eccentric.”

“They seem like good kids. Probably a sign of their good father,” Patton said cheerfully. “They might be interested in our Dungeons and Dragons group, our writing club, or our book club. It could be a good way to help them meet kids who have similar interests.” Logan nodded, looking down. Patton started walking back to the desk. “Here, I’ve got a flyer with all of our kid and teen activities coming up for the next month. If you have any questions, my email address is on the bottom of the flyer.” Logan took it, smiling lightly.

“Thank you, I’ll see if they’re interested.”

“Alright, let’s pause the campaign there for now, kiddos,” Patton smiled, closing his DM notebook. “We’ll meet again next week to finish it off.” A chorus of thanks Mister Patton rang out throughout the meeting room as most of the kids left to go home. Patton glanced nervously at Remus and Roman, who left together but were chatting with a few other kids. He cleaned up the space and exited the room to see Logan standing there, waiting for his sons to finish chatting with their new friends. He had a faint smile on his face. Patton held the notebook and tote bag with his materials close to him and approached the man.

“They seem to be… doing well, now,” Logan mused, eyes focused on the twins. Both were talking animatedly, smiles on their faces. “Programs like this… it’s amazing.”

“Yeah,” Patton sighed happily. “That’s why I push so hard to have programs for the kiddos. Everyone needs a place to belong, even two kiddos who share the same face and DNA. And who have a pretty neat dad.”

“You put a lot of effort into these things, it’s amazing. So many kids show up and are interested in all of the programs you do, I don’t think it’s just that they need a space to fit into, but I think, in large part, it’s because you provide them with a welcoming space,” Logan watched as Remus walked over to the two. “You have a good time?”

“Yeah,” Was all that the boy said, watching his brother. “Can we go now?”

“Sure thing, go get your brother.”

Patton was walking the aisles of the grocery store, handbasket in tow, trying to figure out what he would make himself for dinner. He didn’t always love living on his own, especially when it meant lots of silent nights in front of the television, but at least he didn’t have to argue with anyone about what to eat.

“Mister Patton!” A voice rang out behind him. Patton spun around on his heel to see Roman dashing toward him, Remus pushing a cart and Logan not far behind. The dad waved a hand in greeting. “Mister Patton, are you shopping for your family’s dinner, too?”

“Oh, um,” Patton smiled weakly. “I don’t have a family, Roman. It’s just me. I’m doing my shopping for the week’s dinners.” Remus approached him, peering into the handbasket.

“Lots of microwavable meals in there,” He pointed out. Patton stammered, his face turning red. Logan sighed, adjusting his glasses as he turned to examine the poultry.

“M-Mostly for my lunches,” He explained. “Don’t worry, kiddos, I get my nutrients all good and well.” Remus raised an eyebrow. Roman looked to be deep in thought.

“You should have dinner with us, Mister Patton!” Roman finally exclaimed, then he ran over to Logan. “Dad, can we invite him over for dinner? Please?” Patton was at a loss for words.

“I don’t want to impose, really, I’m okay with making myself dinner,” He tried to make his voice as clear as possible but it wasn’t every day that he got invited to have dinner with someone other than his television. Logan sighed, nodded, and Roman bounded back over to Patton.

“Please, Mister Patton?” His eyes twinkled, and Patton’s heart gave a gentle tug. Kids asking him things with eyes like that was his biggest weakness, he could never turn down a kid with a soft voice and hopeful eyes. “We’re making roast chicken and veggies, and I’m going to try to make some cupcakes!”

“Thank you, Roman,” Patton smiled, “I’d love to join you, if it’s not too much of an issue.” He glanced over at Logan, who was setting some chicken in the cart.

“It’s no imposition. You’ve done great things for my sons thus far, and… cooking is sort of our way of thanking you, I suppose,” the tall man responded. Remus took a pen out of his pocket, grabbed Patton’s hand, and scribbled down their address and a phone number onto his palm.

“Here, now you’ll know where to go,” He said, tucking the pen back into his pocket. Patton smiled down at him, then at the writing on his hand. “I wrote my dad’s phone number, too. Just in case.”

“I’ll get it!” Roman exclaimed, running to the front door to open it. Patton stood there, changed out of the clothes he was wearing earlier and holding a gift bag. “Hi, Mister Patton!”

“Hi, Roman,” Patton smiled kindly, stepping inside. “Thank you for inviting me for dinner.” Remus came around the corner and hesitated, then waved at Patton. “Hi, Remus.”

“Hi,” He said before he walked into the kitchen. Patton followed Roman into the kitchen as well, and saw Logan chopping up some vegetables. Remus hopped up to sit on one of the empty counters. “Roman, what kind of cupcakes are they?”

“Lemon cupcakes, and I still need to make the raspberry frosting,” Roman responded, opening the fridge to take out some raspberry jam, butter, and milk. Patton set the gift bag on the table, watching the interactions in the kitchen quietly. “Mister Patton, do you like lemon and raspberry?” He went to the pantry to get the powdered sugar sugar and vanilla.

“Oh, yes, I do,” Patton responded. “Do you often bake cupcakes, Roman?”

“Not always cupcakes. I want to bake more. I like making cookies the most, I think, but last weekend I made a coffee cake for breakfast and it was really good,” Roman mused, starting to put the ingredients in a bowl to make the frosting. Logan put the veggies on a pan and put the pan into the oven, then turned around to look at the boys.

“It was a really good coffee cake,” Logan said, leaning against the counter. Patton glanced at the fridge, noticing all of the photos that had been put on it, the magnets around. He noticed a photo of the twins with a mom and a dad, but next to it was a photo of the twins with Logan, all three of them in suits, and a sign that said Adopted Today! held in front of them. Patton tore his eyes away from the photos and turned to Logan.

“I brought a small gift, as a thank-you for letting me join you,” He said, gesturing towards the gift bag. Logan raised an eyebrow and picked up the bag, opening it. He pulled the bottle of wine out. “I don’t know if you’re much of a wine-drinker, but it’s a pretty good bottle.”

“I do, actually. I’ll pour some for us to have with dinner.” Logan asked. He turned around and opened one of the cabinets, pulling two wine glasses out.

“These cupcakes are so delicious, Roman, I could have three more,” Patton said, licking the frosting off of his lips. “You really are an excellent baker.”

“Thanks, Mister Patton,” Roman smiled, a pink blush coating his cheeks. “Dad, we should make sure to send him home with some leftovers!” Logan nodded, taking another bite of his cupcake.

“Alright, it’s getting late, you two should both go finish up any homework and then go to bed,” He said, earning a groan from both of the twins. “No grumbling, boys.”

“But we have a guest,” Remus muttered, wiping the excess frosting off of his chin. “Can’t we stay up a little longer?”

“Now, kiddos, your dad is right. Homework is very important, and you can’t do well in school without a good night’s rest. I’ll be in the library tomorrow if you want to say hello,” Patton smiled. The boys both nodded, and Roman stood up, dashing up the stairs. Remus got up slower, hesitating, then he gave Patton a hug before running up after his twin.

“They seem to have taken quite a liking to you,” Logan mused, standing up and beginning to clear some of the plates. “Remus never hugs anyone, not even his friends.” Patton also stood, grabbing the plate with cupcakes. The two went into the kitchen and quietly put the food away, and Patton watched as Logan loaded the dishwasher.

“Can I ask… what happened to their parents?” Patton’s voice was hesitant, but Logan turned around, a firm look on his face.

“They were my students last year. Smart, good kids… and then their parents died in a car accident on the way to the school play.” Logan sighed, eyes trailing to the photo on the fridge. “They didn’t have any other family, no aunts or uncles, no grandparents, no close friends who could take them. I started fostering them, and after only a few days I put in the request to adopt them. And, a few weeks ago, they legally became my sons.”

“You’re a very kind person for doing that,” Patton said, wiping a tear from his eyes. “And… you don’t have a partner. You’re doing it all on your own.”

“The boys make it easy to love them and care for them,” Logan smiled. “When I found out they were going to be sent away, I just… something in me screamed no, you have to take them in, and so I did.” He crossed his arms, watching Patton carefully. “Remus was hesitant, at first, as expected. He didn’t have many friends before the accident, and after… a lot of the other kids avoided the two of them. They really only had each other.”

“And you,” Patton pointed out. “They’re very lucky to have someone who cares for them so deeply, Logan. My mom raised me on her own, and when I was 18 she passed away. I didn’t have anyone. You gave these boys a second chance, you know.”

“Is that why you went into children’s librarianship?” Logan asked. He sat down at the table and Patton sat next to him.

“I went into it because books were my saving grace as a kid. I didn’t have a lot of friends, but the characters in books… they were there for me,” Patton twisted his fingers together. “The librarians who helped me find those books quite literally saved my life. And I figured that there are kids now who need that same thing, and that I want to be that person for them.”

“That’s why I became a teacher,” Logan was still watching Patton’s face very carefully. Patton reached his hand out and took Logan’s in his. “Despite all of the things about teaching that are hard, helping kids figure out their passions and seeing them grow into awesome humans… it’s all worth it.” He squeezed Patton’s hand.

Outside the kitchen, Remus and Roman were in their pajamas, peeking in. They shared a glance and went back upstairs quietly and into Roman’s room. Roman sat on the bed and Remus on the floor.

“You think Dad likes Mister Patton?” Remus asked hesitantly. Roman nodded.

“I like him a lot, Re. Maybe… maybe he could be our other new dad.” Roman pulled a notebook out from under his bed along with a pen, and opened it. “We should figure out ways to get them together.”

“...what if Mister Patton doesn’t like Dad back? Or… what if he doesn’t want us around?” Remus’ voice was wavering. Roman shook his head.

“I think they like each other. Or… they will, once we push them together.”

“Okay, so here’s the plan for today. You’re going to leave your bag behind after the book club meeting, so that Mister Patton has to call Dad,” Roman and Remus were huddled together outside the meeting room. Roman’s notebook was open and in their hands, a complicated timeline plotted out. “When he drops off the backpack, we’ll invite him to join us for dinner. Get them to drink some wine, maybe try to encourage a movie night…”

“This seems kind of obvious and cliche, Ro,” Remus muttered, crossing his arms. “What if we invite Mister Patton to join us for our Sunday morning hike? Or… lock them in a closet together?”

“I like the hike idea, maybe we can suggest that at dinner,” Roman said, scribbling it into his notebook. “We should start slow and simple, and then work our way up to the more intense, more thorough methods.”

“What if the simple methods work really well, though? I want my ideas used, too,” Remus pouted, watching as the other kids filed into the meeting room. Patton approached the room, books and materials in tow.

“Hey, it’s my two favorite twins!” He said cheerfully. “How are you boys doing today?” He stepped into the meeting room, the twins following close behind. The room slowly filled up, the meeting began, and at the end of the meeting, Remus “forgot” his bag.

Logan was startled to feel his phone buzz in his pocket. He was making dinner, some baked potato soup. He pulled the phone out of his pocket to see an unknown number calling, but he picked up anyway. “This is Logan Crofters, how can I help you?”

“Hey, Logan! It’s Patton Hart from the library. It seems like Remus left his bag at the end of book club today,” The voice rang clearly from the other side. Logan sighed, running a hand through his hair.

“Okay, I can come by to pick it up from the library later–”

“Oh, well we’ve already closed for the day, but I have the bag and I can drop it off at your house if it’s not an issue,” Patton responded. “It’s no problem, really, your house is on my route home.”

“If it’s not too much of a problem, then yeah, that would be really great, thank you,” Logan eyed the twins carefully as they stepped into the living room. “Thank you again.”

“See you soon!” Patton hung up the call, and Logan stuffed his phone back into the pocket of his jeans. He crossed his arms, giving a firm look to the boys.

“What was that all about, Dad?” Roman asked, an innocent twinkle in his eyes. Remus sat down at the table, head down.

“It was Mister Patton. Apparently, Remus left his bag in the meeting room after book club today,” Logan said. He turned to stir the soup. “You’re not usually one to forget things, Remus. Is everything alright?”

“I must have just been… distracted. By our new friends,” Remus said, voice low. Logan raised an eyebrow at him, and he looked down.

“Right. Well, he’s going to come by and drop off the bag, so when there’s a knock at the door, you need to be sure to apologize to him for going out of his way to bring it,” Logan instructed. Roman hopped up on one of the counters.

“Can we invite him inside for dinner again?” He asked, twirling a strand of his hair between his fingers. “It’s been a few weeks since he joined us that one time.” Logan sighed again, but nodded.

“Only if he agrees, don’t beg him to join us this time, okay? He does have his own life,” Logan reminded him.

A few minutes later, there was a knock at the door, and the twins went to go and answer it. Roman smiled cheerfully at Patton, who was holding Remus’ bag carefully. “Hey, kiddos. Here you go, Remus.” Remus took the bag gently.

“Thanks, Mister Patton. Sorry that you had to come out of your way to bring it to me,” He said, head down. Patton just smiled.

“It’s no problem at all,” He said. Roman noticed that the librarian peered a little bit around the two, and he wondered if he was looking for Logan. “Well, I should get going. Tell your dad hi for me, okay?”

“You don’t want to come in to say hi? Or you could join us for dinner, we’re making baked potato soup for dinner, and there are some brownies that I made last night,” Roman started, but Patton waved his hands in denial.

“No, really, it’s okay kiddos, I have to work tomorrow and today was kind of a long day,” He smiled still, glancing down for half a second. Logan stepped out of the kitchen just as he was looking back up, and the librarian gulped. Logan’s tie was loose around his neck and the sleeves of his dress shirt were pushed up. His glasses sat on the top of his head.

“Boys, I told you to not beg him to stay if he didn’t want to,” Logan reprimanded them, then turned to look at Patton. “Sorry, Patton.”

“I-um, well… I suppose I could stay for a bit…” Patton’s face reddened and he looked down. “I was just going to have my lunch leftovers for dinner, anyways.” The twins shared a knowing glance.

“But you just said you had a long day and have to work tomorrow,” Remus muttered, raising an eyebrow. Patton stammered, his words not coming out clearly.

“Well, come on in, Mister Patton!” Roman said cheerfully, stepping aside to allow the librarian to enter. They all went into the kitchen, and the boys each hopped up on the counter spaces, raising eyebrows. “So, you work on Saturdays, Mister Patton? What about Sundays?”

“The library is closed on Sundays, so that’s the day I usually get things done around my apartment, run errands, and the like. I don’t usually work on Saturdays, but we have an event tomorrow,” Patton explained, taking a seat at the table.

“You should join us on our Sunday morning hike! We hike every week, and it’s really nice,” Roman suggested. Logan turned away, tending to the soup again, making Remus raise an eyebrow. “Do you like hiking?”

“Oh gosh, I haven’t had the time to go on a hike… in a really long time,” Patton mused, resting his chin on his hand, his elbow sturdy on the table. “I used to hike a lot in my college days, but it’s not as fun on your own.”

“Then you should definitely join us,” Remus piped up from his spot on the counter. “It’s such a beautiful hike. We all leave our phones at home and just talk and look at nature. It’s pretty great, right Dad?”

“It is a really great hike,” Logan replied. “Soup’s done. Remus, would you get me some bowls, please?” Remus did so, settling the bowls down next to the stove. Logan began ladling the soup into each bowl, handing them to Remus to set on the table.

“Yeah, I’d love to join you, then.”

“Alright, here we are,” Logan said, turning off the car. The twins scrambled out of the backseat and outside, and Patton got out from the passenger’s seat, putting his sun hat on. Logan got out of the driver’s seat and locked the car, watching as the twins ran to start the hike. The two men followed close behind.

“It’s beautiful out here,” Patton said quietly, looking around, a smile on his face. Logan watched him carefully, the smell of sunscreen emanating from the librarian, his polo and shorts flowing gently in the wind.

“Yeah…” Logan mused, turning his direction back to the twins. “Don’t go too far ahead, boys!” Roman continued walking but turned around, giving two thumbs up. Patton giggled a little bit, startling the teacher.

“They’re quite energetic kiddos,” He said, meeting Logan’s eyes. “But they’re really great.” Logan nodded but said nothing as they continued walking up the hill. Up ahead, the twins were nudging each other, kicking rocks, and laughing, and Logan smiled.

“Sometimes I wonder if I’m enough for them. Maybe they need more than just me.” Patton wrinkled his nose at this.

“Why wouldn’t you be enough for them? You’re such a great father, and it shows,” Patton said, twisting his hands together. “Sure, they had two parents before, but not every kid needs two parents. I had a single mom, and I turned out okay.”

“More than just okay,” Logan said under his breath, so that Patton couldn’t hear him. “I don’t know, it’s just… they’re very touchy, and I’m… not. They want to hug and snuggle, and I can’t provide that for them, at least not in a way where I’m also comfortable.” Patton looked over at Logan, who was wearing his button-up with the sleeves rolled up and workout pants, his eyes focused, facing forward, and he gulped a little. Logan also had a backpack with snacks, water, and a first aid kit, just in case.

“I think that they can understand that,” Patton responded, finally turning his gaze back to the path in front of them. Remus was giving Roman a piggyback ride up the hill, and the two men could hear the boys pretending to be a knight and a horse in battle. “They have each other to snuggle with, at least.”

“Do you have any siblings, Patton?” Logan asked, also watching the boys. “I’m an only child, but I have a few cousins who I was close to in childhood.”

“I’m also an only child, and I didn’t have any cousins, at least that I’m aware of,” Patton said, eyes drifting down. “My dad left when I was three, and I don’t know much about him. I’ve been trying to find him for years, for medical record purposes, but I can’t seem to track him down. I don’t think he wants to be found.”

“He’s a fool, then,” Logan sputtered out, then he covered his mouth. Patton raised an eyebrow, giggling softly. “Sorry. I know he’s your father. But anyone who doesn’t want anything to do with you is an idiot, and they don’t deserve to be in your life.”

“That’s very kind of you to say, Logan. Thank you.” Patton said, and the two fell into a comfortable silence, climbing the hill steadily, the twins always in view. Logan, deep in thought, glanced back over at the librarian.

“I mean it, Patton. You’re an incredible person, not just in your career but in how you are around the boys,” He smiled at Patton, who blushed and looked down. The librarian stumbled over a branch, falling forward, but he was caught by two strong hands. His hand still scraped the ground, and he winced. “Whoah! You alright?” Logan sat down on the ground, pulling Patton down too, and inspected his palms. “You’re a little scratched up.”

“I’m alright,” Patton said, looking down, face red. He couldn’t get the feeling of having Logan’s hands on him out of his mind. Logan shook his head, removing the backpack and digging in it for the first aid kit. He got some sanitizing wipes, and took Patton’s hands in his own, wiping off the pebbles and dirt. Logan was focused as he put a bandaid over the scratch on the librarian’s palm. The twins came bounding up to them.

“Mister Patton, are you okay?” Roman’s voice was concerned, and Remus got on the ground next to them watching carefully as Logan made sure everything was okay with Patton’s hands.

“I’m fine, boys, don’t worry, just a little stumble. If your dad hadn’t caught me…” Patton’s words trailed off, and Logan put the first aid kid back into the backpack. The teacher stood up first, and then held his hand out to help Patton up. He took it, and their eyes met, a blush covering both of their faces. Roman coughed a little, pulling Remus away, and the twins walked a ways away, but kept glancing back. Logan still hadn’t let go of Patton’s hand, though. “Um…” Patton looked down, his blush deepening.

Logan hesitated, then decided that he needed to do or say something, because not saying or doing anything was eating him alive. He couldn’t hide it anymore. He didn’t want to hide it anymore. So he took Patton’s chin in his spare hand, tilted his face up, and kissed him gently. Patton gasped, but didn’t pull away; instead, he wrapped his arm around Logan’s neck, pulling him closer, their kiss deepening.

The twins were losing their minds, cheering and jumping for joy.

several months later...

Patton unlocked the door and stepped in. He closed the door quietly behind him, then peeked into the kitchen to see Roman stirring some cake batter and Remus chopping some fruit. He stayed quiet, going into the living room, where Logan was putting up a sign that read “Happy Birthday!”

“Hey,” Patton finally spoke, startling the teacher. Logan set the banner down, then approached the librarian, hugging him close and kissing him.

“Welcome home, babe,” He said, leaning down to kiss Patton again. “Happy birthday.”

“You didn’t need to do all of this, Lo…” Patton’s face was bright red as he glanced at all of the decorations and the pile of gifts on the coffee table. “But… thank you.” He leaned up to kiss Logan again, but was nearly knocked over by the force of two preteens joining the hug.

“Patton!” The twins cheered in unison. “Happy birthday!” Patton laughed, hoping that Logan would be able to keep all of them from losing their balance.

“Thanks, boys,” Patton said. The hug finally broke, and the twins went back into the kitchen to finish the cake. The librarian took a breath and sat on the couch, watching Logan carefully. “Hey, Lo?”

“Yeah, what is it?” Logan asked, going to finish putting the banner up. He didn’t look back down at Patton until the banner was up, and when he saw his boyfriend next, the man was on one knee, holding a ring out. Logan gasped, then fell into a fit of laughter as he took a ring out of his pocket, getting on his knee in front of Patton.

“I guess that’s a ‘yes’, then?” Patton giggled, tears trickling down his cheeks.

“I had a huge thing prepared,” Logan sighed. “The twins were going to play a song for you.” He scooted a little closer to Patton, then kissed him. “But yes, of course Patton. Yes.” A flash startled the two of them, and they glanced over to see the twins. Roman had his phone in his hand, taking pictures. Remus was pouting a little.

“Aw, man, he ruined the plan!” He said. Logan and Patton laughed, kissing again, then they stood up, sliding the rings onto each others’ fingers. The twins bounded towards them, and they fell into another group hug. “Does that mean we can call Patton ‘Papa’ now?”

“Of course, kiddo.” Patton smiled. Logan wiped a tear from his fiance’s cheek, and held his family close together.

“I love you,” He whispered into the librarian’s ear. Patton smiled, kissing him again.

“I love you too, Logan.”

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onyour-right · 4 years

Text

A Dickkory fic - Role Reversal

*Strides in several months late after I said I was gonna have this out by the time season 2 finished airing* I don’t even have any excuses for myself other than my motivation to write them was at such a low, but I hope this kinda makes up for things.

This fic is Kory kinda struggling to deal with a few of the events that have happened, of what her sister’s presence on earth means, and then of course our ole boy Dick comforting our girl.

Please feel free to comment on what you liked/disliked (but keep it respectful). Positive feedback is always necessary.

Word count: 2,600+

Kory lies wide awake in her unbelievingly spacious double bed, her green eyes fixed unseeingly on the pasty white ceiling as numerous thoughts race through her mind and leave her unable to fall asleep.

It’s not the first night she has had trouble falling asleep, nor is it the second the third or even the fourth. Ever since she’d had to kill Faddei, a friend to her despite everything else, and then somehow lost her powers, there was a restlessness that clung deep to her spirit and left her feeling oddly vulnerable in a way that she wasn’t at all used to.

She knows she’s been acting differently around the others, and knows that they’ve picked up on it too. She’s seen the worried looks that Gar shoots her way when he thinks she isn’t aware; she feels the frustration that bleeds through her every interaction with Dick, of him wanting to push but not knowing how far to go. Even Rachel, who is generally a lot harder to read and a lot less obvious with her affections, seems to be hovering close to her as if she’s worried she might take off at any moment.

Kory loves them all; some days it overwhelms her just how much she does, and on her bad days she finds herself wishing she didn’t love them as much as she did. It’s why it makes the presence of her sister on earth that much worse. Blackfire has already shown her ruthlessness, her lack of remorse in doing what she needs to do to get what she wants. It would be absolutely nothing for her sister to take any one of their lives, to take away what few people Kory now has left.

Her mind drifts over to Gar, sweet, precious Gar, who is unbelievingly loyal and deserving of so much goodness he has yet to receive. Then Rachel, who nestled her way into Kory’s heart fiercely and unapologetically, who challenges her in so many ways. And finally Dick, the man who already arouses feelings so deep within her that she knows that if both of them could just figure it out...

She can’t be the reason they die. She can’t watch any of them die. It would be too much. It would devastate her. She can handle a lot of things, but she can’t with this, she can’t -

… She can’t breathe.

Kory presses her hand firmly against her chest, against the hammering of her heart, in futile hope that it will help abate the pressure mounting. It does not. She feels as if she’s boiling under the covers, her skin disgustingly clammy to touch, and she doesn’t know where she’s going, but she knows she needs to leave.

She barely registers throwing back the covers and slipping out of her room, or moving through the dimly lit hallways of Titan Tower on the night cycle.

When she stumbles towards the security door leading to the rooftop she wastes no time in yanking it open and rushing out into the cold, night air, where finally she’s able to take in a deep breath when the fresh breeze washes over and settles deep into her skin.

Kory stays like that for a long while, her eyes shut and her face tilting upwards towards the moonlit sky. There’s something about basking in the silence, she thinks, something almost beautiful and peaceful that she so desperately needs.

She is unaware of how much time passes until her quietness is interrupted by a familiar baritone voice that comes from behind her.

“Kory.”

Her eyes open almost instantly at the sound of Dick’s voice, and even though she needs this bit of peace she’s found and is reluctant to break it, she still spins round to face him.

“Dick,” she says with surprising softness, surprising given the weariness that she feels, that sinks right through to her bones and makes her ache.

He looks adorable in his half asleep state; wearing his blue pyjama bottoms and white tee, with his ruffled brown hair that has Kory longing to run her fingers through it. She can imagine his reaction if she were to tell him just how cute she finds him in this moment, he would most likely let out a disgusted scoff and grumble something unintelligible under his breath that would only make her laugh.

Kory watches him quietly, watches the worry and concern playing out so plainly on his face as he looks at her, and it startles her, because he never used to be so open with his emotions. She wonders when he’d changed so much.

When it becomes clear that she’s not going to say anything else, that she’s allowing him to take the lead in this conversation, he steps towards her and speaks.

“I got an alert when the door to the rooftop was opened, I wanted to see if you were okay.”

She nods slowly, letting out a thoughtful hum as she does. A small part of Kory wonders if he knew that it was her all along, and it makes the corner of her lips pull up into a gentle smile even while the lie trickles easily from her mouth.

“I’m fine, Dick, I just needed some fresh air.”

He furrows his brows and a disbelieving frown settles on his face, his gaze dropping down to her bare feet and then lifting back up to meet her eyes. “So fine you couldn’t spare the time to put on a pair of shoes?”

Kory feels herself tensing up at his words and folds her arms defensively across her chest. She keeps her gaze firmly on him. She won’t look down and give him the satisfaction of being right, of catching her out in a blatant lie; and she definitely won’t respond to him, with his tone of voice that she doesn’t much care for.

He seems to realise his own misstep seconds after because his gaze softens suddenly, and a heavy breath loosens from his mouth as he takes another step closer to her. “You’ve been different lately. Not just with me, but with the whole team.. I’m just worried about you, Kory.”

Not for the first time does she find herself taken aback by his emotional maturity, although she doesn’t necessarily know why. It’s not as if he hasn’t shown his concern over her well-being before, or hasn’t gone out of his way to check on her when he knows that she’s not okay; but there’s something remarkably different about this moment that they’re sharing right now. His honesty makes it harder for her to maintain her façade towards him, but she finds that for the first time in her life she’s at a loss as to how to express herself.

“I’m-” Kory starts, trailing off into a hesitant silence when the words seem to fail her, she continues a moment later. “I appreciate your concern, Dick, I really do, but I don’t need it, I’ll be fine. I think you should be more worried about the kids though, especially Gar, y’know? He’s had a rough time and I-”

“Kory- ”

“ - think he needs some sort of help,” she continues, as if he hasn’t said a word. “Maybe someone professional to talk to. I know that it’s quite common to seek mental help after facing a traumatic event. And I mean he’s -”

“Kory- ” Dick tries again, but either she doesn’t hear him or can’t seem to stop the words falling from her mouth.

“ - just a kid, he’s so young and I -”

“Koriand’r!” He shouts finally, his voice sounding even louder in the stillness of nightfall that surrounds them.

The rest of the words die out on her lips and her eyes widen almost comically as she can do nothing else but stare at him in shock. She doesn’t think Dick has ever raised his voice to her, even when they argue it’s never with raised voices. She wants to say it bothers her, but she really can’t. An emotion that seems wholly inappropriate given the serious nature of their conversation courses through her body, and for the life of her she can’t figure out whether it’s because she likes the way her proper name falls from his mouth, or if it’s something else entirely.

Dick releases a heavy breath, his chest rising and falling as if she drives him breathless. She can see the frustration laced in his eyes again, and it makes her guilty that she’s the cause of it.

“We’ll sort Gar out I promise you, but I can’t do that without you. He needs both of us.”

Kory feels her body deflate at his words, and a stretch of time passes where they seem content to just watch each other; Dick’s gaze searching and Kory’s gaze filled with an array of conflicting emotions. This time it’s her that takes a step forward to him, her hand reaching up to rest against the side of his face with her thumb lightly stroking his cheek.

Some of the worry clears from Dick’s expression when she steps close, and is replaced with the same emotion that Kory recognises flows through her body. His stare drops down to her full lips and his mouth parts invitingly, and the faint hesitation Kory felt floats away because now she knows that he wants her too.

Kory ducks her head down and closes the space between them, capturing his lips in a searing kiss that he returns with just as much intensity.

It’s been a while since they’ve last been as intimate as this. After defeating Deathstroke and then the death of Donna, it’s taken some time for all of them to settle into their new norm and relearn old dynamics, and yet the way their bodies still move so in sync with each other is like no time has been lost at all. It’s overwhelming in the best of ways.

They stumble backwards until Dick’s back hits the metal door and he lets out a soft grunt against her mouth, both his arms snaking around Kory’s waist to pull her flush against him. She’s forgotten how good it is to be allowed to touch any part of him that she wants – his chest, his hair, his face, and in turn to feel his hands on her. It fills her with such a staggering amount of pleasure.

Eventually they part for some air, panting heavily as they try to catch their breaths. It’s only a mere few seconds later that Kory leans forward again with the intent to claim his lips again, but when Dick inches his head back a stab of rejection so strong buckles through her. Has she read him wrong?

Kory tries to step away from him then, but his arms turn tight around her and prevent her from walking away. “Kory,” is all he says, low and soothing, like he already knows the assumption she’s jumped to and is trying to reassure her.

He’s studying her face with that deeply intense manner of his, and in that moment she realises. It’s not that he doesn’t want to, because of course he does, it’s that he’s not letting her forget their conversation, he’s not going to let her brush this off as nothing.

She huffs lightly and averts her eyes, fixing them on a random spot on the wall. Her resolve starts to slip the longer she feels the heat of his gaze on her; stubborn man, she can’t help but think, even though the irony of her comment is not lost on her.

Kory’s voice is quiet when she finally admits to him, to herself. “I just don’t know what I’m supposed to do anymore, Dick.”

His lower lip juts out slightly while he listens, the gentle expression on his face akin to understanding. “Because of your sister?”

She nods, biting down on the inside of her mouth and turning back to him. “And my powers. One of the last conversations Faddei and I had was about my purpose, my responsibility, and now I – she’s stolen them both from me and I don’t even know what to do about any of it. I feel,” she pauses, letting out a bitter sigh, “I just feel powerless.”

Dick’s brows knit together and a frown creases his face. “The last thing I would ever call you is powerless, Kory. I can’t say I know how any of it feels, but I know that if anyone can figure out what to do it’ll be you,” and at the incredulous look that crosses over Kory’s face he adds, “maybe not right now, but you will. And you don’t have to do it on your own.”

Kory’s vision suddenly starts to blur from her tears, and a warmth spreads through her chest. It’s the type of warmth that is welcome, that heats her whole body down to her toes despite the bitter chill. She stretches a hand up and combs her fingers through Dick’s hair, the faint beginnings of a genuine smile on her liips.

“When did you get so wise?”

He snorts at her question, his lips twitching in amusement. “I have my moments.”

It almost makes her smile fully, but her expression only turns downcast as her thoughts linger once again on her sister. It was never Dick choosing to be alongside her that she doubted, but it was exactly what worried her. “She could kill you, Dick.”

“I’m not so easy to kill,” he retorts jokingly, trying to lighten the mood, but Kory only seems utterly unamused and mere seconds from ranting at him and so he turns serious.

“I know this life I’ve chosen, Kory. And if the worst-” he breaks himself off before he can finish that sentence, sighing. “I’m not going to regret wanting to help you.”

Kory stares at him, her eyes scanning his face for any subtle traces of insincerity. She finds none. She wants to argue that Dick doesn’t know what he’s getting himself into, but he’s a grown man, and who is she to dictate to him what he can and can’t be willing to do. Her royal privilege doesn’t transcend to earth, and even it did she would never.

Dick leans forward, brushing a kiss against her lips. It’s fleeting and leaves her wanting more.

“I was once told that the best way to figure something out is together with someone that you trust.”

Amusement colours her face as she vaguely remembers having the conversation he’s mentioned. It feels like such a long time ago now, and even though they went through a faire share of problems back then, she still suddenly finds herself missing those early days.

Kory arches a brow teasingly. “And yet it took you so long to listen?”

Dick shrugs a shoulder, dropping another kiss on her lips that lasts just a little bit longer, and holds a little bit more promise. “I’m listening now, Kory.”

She nods, her head tilting to one side as a broad smile can’t help but bloom across her face this time. “Together does sounds good.”

He hums, offering her an outstretched hand. “Let’s go back to bed.”

Kory doesn’t even hesitate, she places her palm in his and lets him lead her back to his room.

***

Later on, when Kory’s skin is slick with sweat for a different reason this time, and Dick’s arms are locked protectively around her with his lips pressing against the back of her head, she’ll think that maybe, just maybe, they’ll be okay.

#dickkory source #dickkory #dick grayson #koriand'r #dick x kory #G writes #dc titans #brenton thwaites #anna diop #i love my parents y'all

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