#I’m at the point where I can hardly stand being in the same room as him

[theres-whump-in-that-nebula]

My dad at any given opportunity: “I used to have an as good or even better memory than [my name] and you know how good her memory is.”

I feel like this guy is competing with me by remembering how he was at my age — always has.

And (unrelated) if I criticize him or say anything at all with anything other than happiness or neutrality in my voice, his response is always “Sorry, but you have to understand I’m not feeling good right now. I’m trying to be a father to you; I wish I had a father at your age. I’m suffering. I have [this this and this] wrong with me; and THE ELDERS—“ Dad, Dad… you NEVER feel good; you know this and you’ve lied to me COUNTLESS times by saying you’d try to get help. Go to therapy for fuck’s sake.

“But Jehovah’s organization!” Fuck Jehovah’s organization. If Jehovah’s organization really cared about its members, you wouldn’t be so frightened of defaming its good name at the expense of your mental and PHYSICAL health. If Jehovah’s organization really cared for you, you wouldn’t be hiding your trauma from people who can help “because it’ll hurt Jehovah” like a wife who developed Stockholm syndrome from being beaten by her love-bombing husband.

[adventuringblind]

Mr. Blue Sky

Charles Leclerc x Reader x Max Verstappen

Genre: Fluff

Request: Yes, I loved every second of this. Y'all are welcome to send me your own ideas :)

Summary: After Max gets cheated on, he can't stand being in the house where it happened. Reader and Charles take him in and show him he's still loved.

Warnings: cheating

Notes: No hate to Kelly. I just needed this as a plot point.

Fun fact: my mom calls Valentine’s Day ‘legislative love day’ and will only do any remotely related activities on the 15th because she has a point to prove.

Masterlist

The sound of Charles' phone buzzing at an ungodly hour is what you woke up to. The room is still pitch black, and you can hardly make out Charles in the bed.

He rolls over and pucks up the phone. "It's Max." He states. Voice filled with the sleep from which he was dragged.

He answers the phone, and you curl up into him, hoping to listen in. "Max? Are you-"

You can hear faint mumbling and the occasional choked sob on the other end of the line. "Breathe, Max. I'm going to come get you. Can you stay on the phone with me?" Charles is throwing off the covers and looking for his car keys.

You look at Charles for some sort of answer. To which Charles pulls the phone away from his ear and kisses your head. "Kelly cheated. I'm going to go get him."

You nod your head in understanding. You clamber out of bed and see Charles off to the door.

Your grateful that Monte Carlo is a small city and that it doesn’t take long for him to come back. His body shouldering a drunk Max through the door.

Max is no coherent and reeks of alcohol. His eyes are puffy and his cheeks tear stained. His lips tremble as them mutter words neither of you can understand.

Your heart hearts for him. You and Charles had made an effort to be around the Dutch. You both actively became friends with him and found yourselves in each others company often.

And did you both end up falling for the same pair of blue eyes? Yes.

It was actually Charles who brought it up first. You’d never considered the idea of being with more then one person. Then you got to know Max and you found yourself considering more often then you’d admit.

Neither of you knew if Max would ever be into that and neither of you wanted to ask. The possibility of ruining what is currently a good friendship was not on the to-do list. Plus, he had Kelly and P.

You shake of your thoughts and help Charles get Max into the guest bed. You and him do your best at cleaning him up and making him comfortable despite the fact he is less then cooperative.

When you two are finally back in your own bed, Charles sighs in pained defeat. “She cheated on him while he was out with P.”

You cringe in disgust. “Has it been going on long?”

“Apparently so. About four months.” Charles climbs further into the blankets and pulls you into his chest. “He gave her the apartment. He was out late because he didn’t know where to go.”

“We could offer him a place here for the time being.” You suggest. The slightest hint of a smirk playing on your lips.

“Pretty sure you are just wanting to see more of him.” He chuckles. “But yes, I think it’s a good offer until he figures things out.”

“Don’t lie, you stare at him all the time! You’re going to be the one who outs us.”

“Shush amour. I’m exhausted and I know you are also. Now sleep.”

~

The week brings interesting events. Max does take the offer to move in, though he’s been quiet and reserved since he started staying with you. Max, Charles, and Lando went back to, now Kelly’s apartment, to get his stuff.

He comes back into the house crying. His heart shattered and the apartment a mere reminder of the events that occurred.

Your grateful it’s the off season and Max will hopefully have some time to process before the start of the new season. You and Charles don’t push him and give him space when he needs. Though you also invade when you can see he’s spiraling. Desperate attempts at not letting him go into those dark places are often just you being in the same room as him.

~

By the time Christmas rolls around, he’s doing the slightest bit better. He’s been out of the room more and you haven’t had to force him to eat. He decorates the apartment with you and Charles.

It’s disastrous.

The three of you can’t stop laughing at the mess you’ve made of the decor.

The three of you spend Christmas Eve with Charles’ family. Max hadn’t wanted to go home to his less then festive father and Victoria was away with her in-laws.

You obviously weren’t going to leave him alone and Pascale had been thrilled when he said he’d come to dinner.

You could tell he felt awkward and out of place at first, but everyone did their best to make him feel welcome. Soon he was relaxing, sipping on his drink and engaging in conversation.

~

Christmas and new years had gone by to fast. January had now descended and the cold weather had yet to completely let up.

Originally you thought Max would be out by now. That he’d want his own space as soon as possible. It’s not like he couldn’t afford it. Yet he stayed and you and Charles welcomed him in.

Max was seemed like he was healing. His eyes had regained their light. The one they lost those first days of December. He definitely hadn’t moved one though. You and Charles could still hear the soft sniffles from his room at night.

He may be smiling, but he’s still broken hearted.

The most interesting new additions are the cats. The felines that are Max’s children. He would probably murder for his cats and become the next John Wick. There is something wholesome and sweet about his interactions with his pets.

Charles on the other hand has a bad relationship with animals in general. Small felines included. He like them, they just don’t like him back yet. Max has been letting him feed them until they realize he is nice.

You also have learned that you can share meal prep with Max. You’d banned Charles from it after he tried once and failed miserably. Max isn’t the best in the kitchen, but he helps out and cooks some nights.

~

February. The month of love.

Everything around reminds Max of what happened. How he will not be doing anything special for the holiday. He doesn’t even want to go out of the apartment and you and Charles have to drag him to go get fresh air.

The fateful day comes around and you and Charles have agreed to keep it small.

Corny, sweet, and romantic is Charles definition of a good day and treats you accordingly.

You try to get Max to come eat something but end up just leaving it at the door.

Despite what people may think, Max is romantic at heart. Charles learned this last year when the Monegasque asked him if he was doing anything with Kelly for the holiday.

You and Charles are lounging on the sofa with a movie playing in the background. His arm draped around you and mouth pressing silly kisses along your jaw.

“I can feel your worry radiating from here.” Charles stops his kisses and you roll your eyes at him in response.

“He’s not eaten all day and I’ve heard him crying. Just wish I could help is all.”

Charles hums in your ear. “We could see if he wants a distraction.” He punctuates his sentence with a cheeky smile.

“Charles Perceval Leclerc! You can not seriously be suggesting what I think you are.” You playfully bat his arm. “I highly doubt he would neither want that or like that.”

“How about we ask and then go from there.”

“I think you just want him to fuck you.” This time it’s your turn to give a cheeky smile.

~

This is definitely not how you envisioned asking Max about this would go. His teary eyes haven’t looked away from Charles since the pretty male started talking.

This left you in an odd place of trying to read his reactions and getting absolutely nothing.

“We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to or if you’re not into it. We would completely understand.” Charles laughs but you can tell he’s nervous. His body language betrays him.

Max looks between the two of you like he’s considering something. “You’re telling me you’ve both been crushing on me since last year? And I didn’t notice?”

“You’re very oblivious at times.” You shrug.

“That’s fair but also not the point.” Max stands up out of the bed and starts pacing. “I just don’t understand why me. You two are amazing people and you’re so great together.”

“Y/N has a numbered list of reasons in her phone that we’ve created in case this ever happened.” Charles looks at you expectantly but Your already pulling up the list.

“-please don’t read it I’m already blushing and that will make it worse. Maybe one day but not now.”

All of you freeze at the fact he insinuated a future.

“Does this mean you like us back?” Charles almost purrs. He’s so flirty now but if this goes farther then just a confession tonight he’ll be stuttering and weak in the knees. You know from experience.

Max is the stuttering mess right now however. He’s lost all of his words and is simply gesturing with his hands.

“Breathe Maxy, take your time.” He manages a few and usable to get a grip on his thoughts.

“I’ve to confess something first.” You both look at him expectedly but don’t push him. “The reason Kelly cheated on me is because she’d found a journal of mine. It was a thing my therapist told me to do and so I did. When you two started coming around more, I fell hard. For both of you. I wrote about to hopefully understand myself better and get the thoughts out of my head but they stayed and I hated myself for it. She read it and thought I cheated first so she just did it back.”

He’s in the verge of tears again but you and Charles can only stare I’d utter disbelief. Apparently, both of you are also oblivious.

“Please say something.”

“I think it must be fate.” Again that smirk is tugging at Charles lips.

The air in the room is replaced by a new tension. The kind Charles was originally insinuating before you three started talking.

“So about that proposal then…”

Valentine’s Day definitely couldn’t have ended any better.

[ataraxiaspainting]

Catch a Grenade.

Yan Nanami x GN Reader.

Synopsis: You should have just left that damn satchel where you found it.

Warnings: Yandere themes, kidnapping, some infantilization, humiliation/manipulation, and violence.

Word Count: 900.

Continuation of Never Let Me Down Again.

*~*~*~*

“Go.” Only one word, said so coldly yet loud enough to hear it above the stomps of Kento’s clad feet making their way down the hall. “I say this only once.”

The only reason he does not tug you is because he will surely accidentally break your wrist or your arm.

You know this from experience, all without words and all with actions.

“Since you have planned so much, you should have planned for other possibilities.” You cannot see his face because you are facing the corner of the living room, your forehead leaning against one of the walls. You cannot see his face, but you know he is furious, from the tone in his voice to the position he forced you into. He put you in the time-out corner, a corner that you have not been put into since the first month you arrived here.

The walls are a dull marigold and smell of spoiled milk. This corner also has a large white spot that is uncovered by the paint, and so you attempt to push your nose against that instead.

In what felt like months ago, you attempted to tear off the paint out of boredom. Kento was angry, but not angry enough to buy more paint to fix it.

“I do so much for you…” He says, and there is the sound of his armchair squeaking slightly. He must be sitting on it, grimacing. There isn’t any other cause to think about, not when this sound has been the only one you had heard for months, aside from Kento’s tones, the television, and your cries. Yeah. That must be it, you think. “God. What the hell were you thinking? I have work tomorrow too…”

You don’t say anything. You close your eyes and breathe in the only piece of air that does not smell so rotten. You can imagine being somewhere else, doing something else, other than being here, and being forced to stand on your tiptoes against a coat of yellow latex. Anything else.

“Answer.” He demands, and you can hear the soft sound of his right foot thumping up and down on the musty carpet floor. “Or do you want to be in more trouble than you already are?”

Out of instinct, out of a want so embedded within you, to survive, you stutter out some hardly audible words.

“You don’t have any logic in you, do you?” He sounds so disappointed, and your mind goes to the image of him having his arms crossed. “I’m right. Aren’t I?”

Your toes hurt already. But it feels like something is holding you up by your neck and forcing you to stay there. An invisible noose made of fear. An invisible weight in your chest too.

…

“I’m sorry, Kento…” You murmur, sniffling as tears and snot and drool run down your face.

“No, you’re not.” He refutes. You can hear him turn to another page of whatever he is reading.

“Please. I am… I am…” You repeat I am a few more times, feeling humiliated, like just an infant who doesn’t know their place.

A sigh. “Are you? Are you? How do I know you’re not lying, hmm? Again?”

Even the soft carpet underneath your toes feels like a bed of thorns at this point. Everything hurts.

“Please, Kento…! I am…! I am…!”

A whine escapes your lips, like a defeated dog sent off to rest in their crate without a treat: a dog, a mutt, a pet.

“Are you?” Another familiar sound of pages turning. You must have been here for hours at this point, so the thing he is reading must be quite long indeed.

So long.

You can imagine him rubbing his thumb and pointer finger into his brow area in frustration, disappointment, in apathy pretending to be sympathy. “You don’t appreciate what I do for you… Do you?”

You can feel a glare, and the ghost of something squeezing your neck to force more desperate words out of you. “P-Please, I’m-” 

You hear the squeak of Kento’s armchair again.

You feel hands, the same hands that always felt so strong, on your shoulders, and you are turned around with ease. He looks at you, but you don’t look at him. You look at his shirt, his work shirt, still halfway unbuttoned with his tie hanging loosely from the stained collar. You can smell his cologne, although it has almost fully faded away. You can remember tying it before he left for work this morning, he looked so happy that you were behaving so well for him.

You almost scream out thank yous, but then Kento ruins your small moment of happiness again.

“We aren’t done.” You see the book he was reading this whole time, it is thick and red and looks so heavy. The pain on your cheek came so fast that you didn’t even see it move. You stumble back, the back of your head hitting hard against the white spot on the wall. 

You were too focused on the pain, on crying even more, that you didn’t notice the book being raised again.

[schemmentis]

Like I Can - Pt. 3

Pt. 1 / Pt. 2

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1.7k

You see more of Melissa in the weeks after your one night stand. Not quite as much as the beginning of your friendship, when you saw her without fail every weeknd. Still, more than the near nothing you’d been growing reluctantly used to.

You still spend more time with Barbara than your favorite redhead, but you’re pleasantly surprised on the evenings that she joins both of you. It’s one of those surprise evenings where she surprises you further.

You’re already at a table at one of your favorite restaurants across from Barb when Melissa strides to the table, apologizing for being late. Like every other time she’s suddenly joined you, you only smile and say you’re glad she’s there. You are. It’s been much nicer to see her and know what’s going on from her than through Barbara.

Occasionally, you feel the knife stab you a little deeper beneath your chest. When she’s laughing. When she’s loose and carefree in a way you know she only really is with you and Barb. Still, you’re never upset to see her and you aren’t disappointed by her appearance tonight.

You’re all nearly through your meals when Melissa snaps her fingers like she’s forgotten something. “Barb, the kids mentioned game night next weekend. You think Gerald will forgive you for missing one Saturday night?”

Good-naturedly, Barbara’s eyes are rolling. “It is a Saturday night tonight.” She points out with a look your way that is meant to convey exasperation. Except you know Barb is very rarely actually so fed up with Melissa. You’re the same way. “I assume you’re hosting?”

“Well, I ain’t goin’ to Janine’s, that’s for sure.”

“Oh, the other teachers.” You laugh slightly. “You said kids. I thought you were going to have all your little students running around for a second.”

“Oh god, no. You know I love my little eagles but they ain’t comin’ to my house that’s for sure. Janine is lucky she gets to.”

“Melissa!” Barbara chastises. Or, she tries to. Except you’re laughing and Melissa is smiling at you. It doesn’t really land. 

“Hey, you should come, Y/N.”

“Me?” You scoff, waving Melissa’s invitation off. “Come on, I’m not going to get in the way of your teacher bonding time.”

“You wouldn’t be in the way. ‘Sides they’d like you.”

“You just want me there so you can have me on your team and guarantee you win.”

“Maybe! It ain’t my fault Barb has us on a losing streak!”

“I do not!” Barbara protests from across the table. 

You sigh, pretending to think it over. You are tempted. More time with Melissa is hardly anything you’d say no to. Still, you’re hesitant. These are the people she sees every day. You’ve heard a little when Melissa tells you about her days and what’s gone on but that’s hardly the same as meeting these people. And then spending an evening in Melissa’s living room with them. In competitive mode over games on top.

“Alright, I’ll come but Barb has to be on our team, too. She’s better at trivia than you, Mel.”

Melissa pretends to be offended, a hand to her chest at your trivia comment. “I won trivial pursuit the last game night we had, thank you very much.”

“Did you sneak in extra sports questions?”

“No! I did win on one though…”

“Of course you did, Mel. Just text me when to be there.”

By the time Melissa texts you about game night and what time; you’d nearly forgotten you agreed to go. You don’t panic though. For some reason, knowing both Melissa and Barbara will be there, you aren’t nervous to meet the others. It might help that you know Melissa doesn’t just let people into her house. Not easily at any rate.

Once you’re stepping into Melissa’s living room, Barb has already beaten you there. Not the others. You would guess having those she’s most comfortable around here first makes inviting the others a touch easier. You barely say hello before she’s handing you a cold beer from the fridge.

The others trickle in over the next half hour. You understand now all the little comments Melissa has made about them as you meet them and the small chit chat that ensues as each of them arrive. Janine is sweet but definitely too peppy for Melissa. You suddenly understand each time Melissa said she would keep coffee as far away from the younger teacher as possible.

“Traitor!” Melissa teases when you pair up with Barb one game. You merely roll your eyes at her, it’s a two person team rule and she’d been claimed by Jacob for that game. Otherwise you probably would have picked her yourself.

You find yourself sprawled across Melissa’s couch. Barb had been the first to leave that night, as you expected. She wasn’t one for late nights in the entire time you’d known her. The others had stuck around a bit longer. Now, it’s just you and Melissa.

The two of you had mostly cleaned up her living room, ignoring some of the empty bottles and other drinks. Now, her television is on. It’s playing one of the reality shows Melissa loves that you don’t pay much attention to. Though you’re learning them and the drama in them through osmosis. 

You’re next to Melissa, your legs stretched over her lap. Your thighs rest in her lap more than your legs or feet. One of her hands is idly messing with your hair as she watches the screen. You don’t remember how this is how you two ended up but you aren’t complaining at all. It’s perhaps the most content and safe you’ve felt in a long time. You struggle to remember when you last did.

“Hon?”

Melissa’s soft voice calling to you has you blinking. You’re almost worried you fell asleep. You may be on your way but as your eyes refocus on the television screen you realize it’s still the scene you last remember so you couldn’t have fallen asleep just yet. You likely won’t be awake much longer though.

“Hm?” You wordlessly answer her. Her fingers are gently rubbing a mindless pattern at your temple.

“You gonna see that woman again? The one from a couple weeks ago?”

You blink at the television set, your half awake brain slowly turning over her question. “No.” You finally answer. You’re too tired to be worried about what the right thing to say is. Too tired to be worried about how you sound, or accidentally saying something will tip the redhead off to your feelings.

“You didn’t like her?”

“She was fine.”

Melissa laughs, just a little. “Fine. Yeah, that’s how you said she was in bed, too.”

“Mel…” You groan. You trail off, letting your tone and the following silence convey your plead for her to not get started on that again.

“You just…deserve better is all.” Melissa finally says softly.

“Yeah, and you deserve better than Gary.” You grumble in response.

Her fingers stop their movement against your temple. You feel her freeze beneath your thighs still draped over her lap. You go to sit up but her hand presses lightly to your shoulder to keep you in place.

“What’d you say?”

“Melissa…”

“No, no. Say it again. What you said.” Melissa urges. Her hand is still lightly pressing into your shoulder still. 

“I said you deserve better than Gary.” You repeat quietly.

“You never liked him.” She says. Definitively. Just like she did after you first met him. She knew then. She knows now.

“He’s fine.”

Melissa laughs. Enough that her head throws back against the back of the couch. She tips her head forward again. Her smile touches her eyes when they refocus on you. “Fine is what you say when you’re tryin’ to be polite, ain’t it? Gary is fine. Your girl from a few weeks ago is fine. You really wanna say they kind of suck, don’t you?”

“No! She really was fine. I told you I’m not really interested in the one night stands and all.”

“And Gary?”

“Gary is…you like him.”

“He’s fine.” Melissa says with a small smirk down at you. “How do you feel ‘bout him though? Don’t worry about sparing my feelings, Hon. I wanna know.”

“He’s nice enough. I might like him if he weren’t dating you.”

“What’s him dating me got to do with it?”

You sigh. “Melissa. You could do better than Gary. You could have any guy you wanted, in a heartbeat. I know Joe, bein’ Joe, made you think differently. I watched him hurt you plenty of times while you tried to work things out, and then through the divorce process. You don’t have to settle for just a….nice enough guy.”

“Any guy I wanted, huh?”

“In a heartbeat.” You repeat.

“What if I didn’t want a guy?”

You blink up at Melissa. In the time you’d known her she’d ever spoken about men, gone out with men. You hadn’t even considered her with a woman. Even though that little bit of hope in your heart for it still lived on with your feelings for her. Still, you’d never even entertained it being possible with how much you’d seen her with men. 

“I…wouldn’t have expected you to be into women, I guess.” You finally stammer out. 

“Why not?”

“You never talk about women. I’ve seen you pick up plenty of guys at the bar. Then of course Joe and Gary.”

“I experimented in college. Like a lot of people do.” Melissa shrugs. “I lean toward men, usually heavily, but I wouldn’t call myself straight.”

“You did once tell me if Barb wasn’t with Gerald you’d make her a Schemmenti.”

She laughs again, nodding. “In another life, absolutely.” Melissa doesn’t hesitate in backing up that drunken comment she made to you forever ago. “So, you think I could get a woman?”

“In a heartbeat.” You breathe out the repetition. You know for certain Melissa could land a woman just as easily as she could a man; or anyone for that matter.

“And if I had a specific woman in mind?”

“Do you? Have a specific woman in mind?”

Melissa only looks at you for a long, drawn out moment. You have half a mind she’s memorizing your face for some reason you don’t know. “I think it would take a specific one, for me, personally, y’know? Like you said…no secret I like men but if a certain woman got to my heart and all…”

“What are you saying, Melissa?”

“I’m saying…I’m saying we both deserve better, Y/N. We both deserve better and I…I wanna be the better you deserve.” Her fingers brush at the small hair near your temple tenderly. “You’re the woman I want.”

[scarlovebot]

RECHARGE

Natasha Romanoff x Female Reader

Summary: Natasha guides you to slumber

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧

parties and events occurred every fortnight, you soon lost interested in their reasonings just acknowledging that an appearance was necessary, instructed by Tony Stark.

your outfit deemed as nothing special just a casual black, figure hugging pantsuit paired with stiletto heels.

dragging your heels from group to group, discussing topics which only edged the boredom inside even further, you think back to remember the thrill and euphoric feelings when being given an invitation, that’s when it felt like you had finally made a solidified group of friends who have become family.

the clock had just surpassed your bedtime of 10pm, knowing of this as the once composed posture of yours had gone slump, eyelids fluttering with sleep and the clothes feeling rather uncomfortable.

it would be rude to leave at such and early hour so you made the challenge to yourself that you must remain as one of the few still standing when the party dissolves.

finding shelter at the bar your order of a double vodka lemonade, hoping that the strength of the alcohol has the same effects of an overly dosed cup of coffee. sat idly with your beverage a soft hand strokes against your upper back, a shiver evident to the eyes of the culprit. The lips of the individual make contact with your neck, leaving a soft puckered kiss causing an internal moan, Natasha.

looking to your side met with piercing green orbs and a smirk plastered with admiration and ambition. breaking the silence she speaks up “детка, I’ve hardly seen you tonight, where have you been?” Natasha questions with love and slight worry. Looking at her, you give her a faint smile “I’m just tired nat, I didn’t want to bother you when your having a good time” making eye contact with the ground, you say in a low tone, the fatigue and slight guilt evident in your voice.

Delicate fingers grip loosely onto your chin, she tilts your face upwards towards her creating an atmosphere that can only be described as intimidating, though this is due to the affect Natasha has on you.

The women feels nothing but love towards you, upon your first interaction she was head over heels, intrigued by your goofy personality and nurturing atmosphere around you.

“I would be having a better time with you in my clutch, now what do you say if we head up to bed?” She rubs her thumb softly over your chin, causing you to melt even more into her touch, nodding your head as a response to the question you had been hoping to hear ever since stepping out of your room.

hand in hand you stand up next to Natasha, holding a firm grip onto your girlfriend to ensure her that your not leaving, nor is she.

she leads you through the crowds of people, nodding to her teammates as indication that she was done for to the night. their eyes travelled to the person next to her, they all knew why Natasha had left so soon and didn’t expect any different.

The explanation being that within the daytime your energy level’s surpassed the normal individual, causing an extreme downfall as evening begun. It was almost routine at this point that the red head would take care and control, whispering loving words and ushering you to bed. she really didn’t mind, her social battery rarely drained but seeing you in desperate need for a recharge had Natasha wrapped up in your little finger.

The sensation against your hand dropped, slight panic set into your chest at the loss of the person keeping you afloat, but that quickly passed as the same pair of adoring hands found placement on your waist.

Her vibrations sparked within you, it was something you had never felt before, totally besotted by Natasha Romanoff.

everything blurred together, one minute you were being guided through the mass amounts of attendees, next sat in your underwear on your bed.

Natasha took dominance, once away from the main area and in the elevator she picked you up taking all pressure of your feet, heels were not for the weak. carrying you to the shared room and beginning the process of settling in for the night. the layers that once felt unbearable on your skin had been taken off with care, with every item Natasha slightly massaged your limbs, loosing up all tension.

it must have been the feeling of ease that awoke you, though still in a haze.

Crawling under the covers you expect to feel her, yet you’re met with coldness. your breath hitches, where is Natasha? you begin to worry. you were sure she was with you.

in a blink of an eye she was there, hair braided with precision and skin that glowed even through the darkness. a hand touches your waist, travelling beneath you bottoms to hold a firm grip on your backside “дорогой I’m right here, Natasha’s here” she says.

She holds tighter and drags your tired self towards her, squeezing her hand at the area that was labelled only for her. A giggle escapes your mouth, and just before finally switching off for the night and fall into deep slumber, you send a Thankyou to Natasha.

Your lips fixate on her, a soft moan can be heard from the red head. Your tongue latching onto the roof of her mouth, deepening the kiss before slowly breaking away.

Resting your head onto her bare chest, “Thankyou nat” you murmur, burying yourself as far as possible into the delicate cage that surrounded you.

“goodnight тигр, sweet dreams”

Natasha treasured these moments, the ones behind closed doors where she could let go of the stone cold persona held up for everyone, except you.

[serafilms]

song 17! cupid (fifty fifty) + tim drake (spotify wrapped event)

i’m feeling lonely, oh i wish i’d find a lover that could hold me, now i’m crying in my room, so skeptical of love, but still i want it more, more, more

You’ve reached a certain point where you think you’re going to die alone. Call it the overwhelming anxiety, paranoia, being surrounded by happy couples syndrome, or whatever you want, but none of it excuses the fact that in all your years of life, hardly anyone has even glanced your way.

Perhaps you’re just blind to their stares, like how pigeons can only see out the sides of their heads, but never what’s sitting right in front of them.

“Or maybe I’m just a loser,” you mutter under your breath.

You slam your book shut, having spent the last 10 minutes reading and rereading the same line without absorbing it, as your mind was preoccupied with wallowing in your misery.

Distractions are no help. There is quite literally nothing for you to do now except lie down and accept your fate. And maybe get some sleep.

Standing from your desk, you look around and take a moment to open the window.

Cold, fresh air.

Then, you take a step towards your bed and collapse face first into the pillow, letting out an agonising groan that comes out muffled.

“Wow, that doesn’t sound good.”

The first reaction you have upon hearing the voice is to scramble up and promptly fall on the floor. Rubbing your bruised tailbone, you stare incredulously at the open window, where there is a guy dressed up in a weird, red getup with a cape and a mask over his eyes.

“Red Robin?”

He grins at you as he slips through the window and looks around your room, wasting no time in going to your shelf to snoop through your things.

“That’s me," Red Robin replies, tilting his head at a picture frame. You leap out of bed at record speed to snatch it out of his hands.

"Dude, what the fuck?" Clutching it protectively to your chest, you shoot him an incredulous look then glance down at the picture. It's one of you and your friend, Tim, at your high school graduation. You set it down on your bedside table quickly, and cross your arms as you turn to glare at the vigilante in your room.

"What are you doing here?"

He glances away from your shelf for a moment, taking in the way that you've awkwardly shuffled to the edge of your bed away from him, then shrugs. "Just stopping by for a visit."

Brows knitting together, you frown. "Okay, let me rephrase. Why are you in my room?"

Red Robin pauses, his eyes flitting towards the picture frame you've set aside.

It's been silent for a little too long now, so you speak up again. "Like, is this some kind of interrogation? Because I swear, whatever crime you think I'm involved in, I don't know anything about it. Unless it's about my chem prof cooking meth. But even then! All I know is rumours!"

He looks at you, amused, and you feel fear building up in your stomach. Is this some sort of technique? You did see a video about how the best way to get someone to tell you a secret is to stay silent and wait for them to spill. You suppose you've just given him exactly what he wants.

Red Robin takes a step towards you and you stumble back into your bedside table.

"This isn't an interrogation," he chuckles, "I'm just checking in.”

Why would he check in on you, of all the people in Gotham?

You sniff. “I’m perfectly fine.”

You can’t see his eyes or eyebrows under the mask, but you assume they’re raised in skepticism.

“I heard you groaning from outside, you know.”

Dead silence. Your neck heats up.

“Oh, right … that …”

The vigilante says nothing; he just watches as you dart your eyes around the room, looking at anything but him.

You feel the need to say more and fill the silence. “Yeah, uh, I was just … having a moment.” He stares at you. “Loneliness. Relationship troubles.”

Damn it, now he’s using that tactic on you.

Red Robin clears his throat. “Ah, I see.”

Do your eyes deceive you or is he blushing?

“Yeah, that’s a tough one. Um.” He starts to back up a little, eyes flitting between you and the space behind you. “Well, you know, it’ll get better. You’ll find someone. Uh, I should probably get back to patrol.”

The vibe just got really weird, you think.

You watch in confusion as he takes tiny steps backward towards the window. He tosses a red business card towards you that lands somewhere halfway in between. “Well, shoot me a text later and I’ll try and help with that. It’s my duty as a hero, you know, haha.”

You blink. “Okay?”

He’s halfway out the window when he looks back and clears his throat. “Sometimes, the right person might be right under your nose. Or behind you.” He gestures vaguely behind you and makes a quick exit.

You’re not quite able to process what just happened. Behind you? Turning around, your eyes focus on the picture. The one of you and Tim. You frown. The right person. What was he on about?

You place the picture down and snatch up the business card instead. There’s a picture of his symbol in the centre, and a mobile number on the back. Maybe you’d have to text him and ask.

[shade-pup-cub]

Febuwhump 2024, Day 14: Mask(FD) & Link - Blood-Stained Tiles

Fandom: LOZ/Linked Universe

Summary: Mask seems to be the only one that can see what is going on with his big brother and he refuses to stand to the side when he could try to change it. Unlike his own Zelda, this era's doesn't show the same care. Their hero is only a tool.

CW: blood, injury, mild language

Link’s limp wasn’t hard to miss if you looked. His slight hitch in breath when he gave a slight laugh, drew in breath or spoke too much could be seen, if someone would look for it. His posture was guarded, arms stiff and hardly moved away from his sides. His smile was fake, pained and his eyes wanted to shut from the lack of sleep. All of this could be seen if someone just looked.

Mask watched from afar after the battle was over and had slipped the Fierce Deity mask back onto his belt. He saw Link get hit a few too many times and knew he would be kicking for not doing better.

A meeting had been called for in the castle to discuss the next move against Cia and Ganondorf the second the battle ended and Link was off the field. Mask cursed aloud when he lost sight of Link, crowds of people pushing and shoving. Being hip height had its disadvantages, but Mask was not above hitting kneecaps to get through.

It was the rare occasion that the eleven year old hero wished he had his sixteen year old body back. He could easily get through if he was taller, but he wasn’t. He scaled the nearest wall somehow undetected. He balanced his way across beams, careful not to fall into the swarm of bodies below. Living as a Kokiri was like living in one big playground, making this easy.

It still took much longer than he wanted it to to get across the castle, run down the halls to where Link’s personal chambers were. Mask jiggled the locked handle to the door. Link never locked it…

“Link! Open this fucking door!”

There was no answer outside of the shuffling of feet, something being tossed around and something breaking.

“Don’t make me blow this door off its hinges!”

When Link still did nothing outside of continuing on, Mask grew more worried. Link knew that Mask wouldn’t give idle threats, especially ones that included blowing things up.

“Cap, you’re worrying me… Please open the door.”

A few moments later, the door creaked open. “Worried? Now that’s a word I haven’t heard come from you before.”

Mask looked up at him, eyeing him curiously and cautiously. Something wasn’t right. Link had less dust and dirt on his tunic, meaning he had taken it off. He wouldn’t do that for any other meeting, especially with how urgent the Queen made it sound.

“Did you take a potion?” Mask went right to the point.

“No, I didn’t need one.”

“Did you wrap your wounds?”

Link furrowed his brow, “I didn’t have any.”

“Bullshit, I saw you take some hits today. There is no way you went unharmed.” Mask went to push on the Captain’s ribs, but his wrist was caught by Link. “If you don’t have any, why stop me from checking?”

To Mask’s surprise, Link’s expression cracked for a split second before he straightened up. “Because I do not have time right now. There is a meeting being held to strategize our next move. Even if I were injured, our supplies took a great hit today. We are short of most things. Small cuts are not worth my time worrying.” He let go of the younger’s wrist. “Stay here if you want, but I have somewhere to be.”

Mask flinched slightly back at his big brother’s became uncharacteristically angry with him.

Link deflated. “I’m sorry. I have no right to take my frustration out on you.” He took off his scarf, wrapping it around Mask snuggly. “Get some rest.”

Watching Link walk away hurt, but Mask had a job to do. He needed to figure out a way to get the good Captain to rest some. It had been three days since he slept anything more than two hours, a week since he slept five hours at one time.

He sighed with a groan as he walked into the somewhat large room. He went and sat on the bed, kicking his feet while his brain raced. He couldn’t think of a way to help his big brother and even if he did, no one would take him seriously due to his age. Well… he was just going to have to make them listen.

Looking around the room again, something caught his eye. Something white and red. ‘That bastard.’ He knew what it was before he reached it. It was old bandages that someone had tried to hide. That meant that Link had been hurt some time before and hid it from everyone.

Mask pushed open the bathroom door, wanting to take all the bandages out of there and hide them so Link would be forced to seek out proper help. What he wasn’t prepared to see was blood smeared across the marbled tiled floor. Several towels had been used hopelessly to clean up the mess and there were still small pools of blood that hadn’t been touched.

Mask’s breathing picked up as he took a few steps back. Horror gripped him like an icy hand around his middle. That was too much blood. How much was Link hiding? How much worse was he than Mask had originally assumed?

His anger roared back like a grease poured on an open flame. He folded Link’s scarf in a hurry, tossing it on the bed. He was on a warpath to where this so-called meeting was being held. He ran through people, not caring who it was. Many times he collided with the wrong people, all agitated warriors or nobles. A few pushed him away hard enough that he landed on the ground and nearly trampled. The others only spoke harshly towards him.

None of this stopped him from reaching the guarded doors that held the highest ranking officials in this Hyrule. He thought about blowing the door off the hinges, but that would cause too much destruction and bring too much attention from outside people. Direct approach it was…

Mask kicked and screamed as the guards tried to pick him up and throw him out of the castle for intruding. ‘This shit again, really?’ He managed to get a few good kicks to the door, calling for Link. With no one responding from behind the doors, Mask bit one of the guards and pulled the Fierce Deity mask from his belt threatening to put it on, backing up slowly, then literally kicked the door open.

“What is the meaning of this interruption?!” one of the nobles asked as everyone jumped to their feet.

Mask eyed Link as he tried to stand up fully without wincing. Link tried to keep eye contact, but sat down first with a hand holding his ribs.

Two more men went to snatch Mask, but he raced over to the way too oversized round table and climbed onto it. The Queen waved her hand for them to stop.

“Mask, what brings you here?” Zelda asked, calmly.

“Him!” Mask pointed at Link as he tried to catch his breath.

Link huffed, “Mask, go back to the room and get some rest, please. There is no concern here for you to be worrying over.”

“You don’t get to speak, Cap! Not after what I saw!”

Losing patience, Zelda also sat back down, prompting the others to do the same. “If something was wrong with our Captain, he would say something.”

“Are you blind? Are all of you blind to what is in front of you? He is injured, still injured from the battle before today, hasn’t slept in gods know how long, eating is a rare thing and he is refusing any medical treatment because he thinks it would be wasted on him when he should be the first person to receive it!”

“We are at war, child. There has to be sacrifices even if it comes to oneself.” A random nobleman said.

Swiftly turning, Mask gritted his teeth as he spat out. “No one was talking to you.” Looking at the Queen again, he asked, “How well do you sleep in your ivory tower, knowing that this war is all on Link? He has saved you, Impa, Lana, everyone in this room, this whole kingdom, but who is saving him as he drowns in his own thoughts of doubt and self worth? Who does he get to lean on when it becomes too much to carry alone on his shoulders? He isn’t some plaything from the goddess, he is a real person who deserves better than this. Heroes deserve better than this!”

The same nobleman decided to speak up again. “What would you know of a Hero’s job? You call yourself a hero, but how could an eleven year old understand the complexity of war and what Link is to uphold his part as the hero?”

Rage boiled in Mask’s veins, slowly turning back to the old man. “I took up the role of the hero at age nine, where I was sent to the future by sleeping until I was sixteen. I fought Ganondorf and his bloodthirsty monsters and I defeated him. When I was sent back to my original time as a nine year old, I did it all over again. I earned the title Hero of Time, though it came with many steep costs. I went to an unknown land called Termina, ridding it of one of the most powerful demons ever known to the world, Majora. I did both adventures alone outside of my fairy and the few that I could trust to point me in the right direction, but I walked alone.

“The work of a hero is damning and lonely, even if we aren’t alone. No one truly understands what we need or what we go through. I refuse to let another hero go through the hell I went through for the sake of his country. I don’t care if I have to do it from my grave, heroes from now on will never have to walk alone.”

The silence was interrupted by a puzzled Queen. “This still has nothing to do with you. Leave, Mask, we have work to do and every second that you waste by badgering us with things that are irrelevant, Ganondorf gets stronger. If Link has a problem or an issue, he knows how to deal with it. He is an adult, capable of taking care of himself.”

“Clearly not by the state of his bathroom! The tiled floor is stained in blood, fresh blood has pooled on top of it from where he tried to take care of himself and I’m surprised he’s even standing by how much was there! Do you not care for your Hero?”

“He is not my responsibility!” The Queen stood, matching Mask’s height where he stood.

“Mask, that is enough. This only makes matters worse. It doesn’t matter what happens as long as we win the war.” Link rubbed his face, elbows on the edge of the table. The lack of self preservation was overwhelming. Mask knew what it was like, but his big brother was being thrown to the wolves with no hope.

“See, boy, if our good Captain Link says he is fine, then why should we be listening to you? Now, run along and let the adults handle things.”

If Mask could have gotten away with it, he would have skewered that old bastard. Instead, he took the Fierce Deity mask, sighing, “Since you won’t listen to me, maybe you will listen to him.” He pressed the mask to his face with a scream. The scream wasn’t because of the pain like others thought, but because of the amount of emotion trapped inside with no way to release it except when Mask used them. Fierce Deity's hurt the worst.

“Mask no!!” Link hollered and scrambled to get to the youngest in the room.

The wooden table groaned under the weight of the god that now stood where the young Link was. The Deity knew why he had been called on, afterall he could go through the mask’s wielder's thoughts. His glowing eyes took in the room, landing on Link who was now doubled over and clutching his side, blood coming through the green tunic.

The Deity growled in disgust, “It takes a child to make you see what you already know, yet you call yourselves the responsible adults. I would have never treated my own men with such disregard.”

Much like Mask, his eyes locked on Zelda’s, lips pulled back to show all his teeth. “You, Queen Zelda, I would expect so much more from my sister’s blood than what you have become. You disgrace the goddess’s bloodline and all she believed in.”

Link took in a wheezing breath. “D-Deity…” He collapsed to the ground, head nearly slamming into the stone floor if it weren’t for the Deity’s quickness.

Large gloved fingers inspected the head in his hands, feeling for damage. He sighed when he felt the bump below the crown of the young man’s head. If he remembered correctly, Link got his with a shield there. Placing the man’s head on the ground softly, the Deity pulled the tunics and chainmail up, showing bandages soaked and hardly wrapped around him properly.

Almost like she cared, Zelda was at their side. “I had no idea… truly. We need to get him to the infirmary right away.”

“You will do nothing. You do not get the right to suddenly step up for him and care about his well being. I will take him to his quarters and watch over him. He needs rest, not people hovering over him. Besides, friends and foe are wearing the same colors nowadays.”

With Link in his arms, he made his way to the door, but stopped short to say one last thing. “If his body gives way and we lose him, my host will not fight in this war, I will make sure of it. You will do this on your own and you will lose.”

[aspitefulwriter]

OUT OF TOUCH [Ch. 4]

(Poe Dameron x AFAB!reader)

warnings: a shove that can be considered physical abuse? i try to clear up that it’s not okay though. won’t happen again 🫡 light mention of SA because people listen to rumors

author’s note: i usually post on ao3 first!! also, so sorry about this wait. i started my first week of classes and i’m a stem senior….it’s rough out there y’all lol

word count: ~4.7k (i’m apparently incapable of writing less)

Series Masterlist

Something must be rooting for you.

It seemed with each challenge you faced where certain death was imminent, you slid by with hardly a scratch on your body.

Common sense tells you that ordinary humans escaping from a locked down militia base with Kylo Ren on board should not leave alive, yet you and Denel were able to bolt into hyperspace without incident.

Common sense also tells you that flying in an Order-affiliated cargo jet that was reported stolen should not be easily sold off after landing on Corellia. You ignored the coincidences at first, but it was getting harder to ignore.

The blankets and clothes lining the blackmarket you were in served as red flags, waving in the breeze as you and Denel followed a sketchy lead to a secret Resistance rendezvous where new recruits were loading onto transport to their base, the two of you hardly being asked questions to verify your intentions. From that point, your alert system had been on overdrive, allowing you to catch the occasional nervous glances sent your way as they fidgeted.

Perhaps coincidences aren’t really coincidences, you think to yourself, keeping your eyes trained on the people that fill the craft and the thoughts to yourself. Though, after landing on D’Qar the few suspicions you had were answered as Leia Organa makes her way over to you now. However, one was still left unanswered.

“How did you know?” Denel looks between the two of you questioningly.

She gives you a sly smile, one side of her lips going higher than the other, “It’s my job to know.”

You repress a scowl, displeased she brushed off your question,“Let me rephrase…How long did you know?”

“I would guess just as soon as you entered hyperdrive.” Given she’s likely to brush your question of ‘how’ off again, you breathe out a defeated sigh and relax the tenseness that’s been building since the blackmarket back on Corellia.

“Well, then you must have some sort of plan for us. What can we do to help?”

She gives a close-lipped smile that seems genuine, her eyes glowing with mischief, “Before we get to any of my plans, we have to make sure we’re on the same page. Though I’m sure I won’t be disappointed— I’ve heard great stories about you.” Your eyebrows pull together in questioning, but she doesn’t acknowledge it as she motions to two people who had been standing a few steps behind her since she first stepped into the unloading zone.

“We’ll have to keep our eyes on you two for a few days,” You look between the two of them before looking at Denel to see his reaction where he—much to your surprise—doesn’t show much.

“This is Tantin and Venon. They’ll be your guards.” She motions at each one, signaling their respective name. You drag your eyes back to them and appraise them.

Upon your assessment, you see Tantin looks less than happy to be there— you’d say even bordering on disgust; on the other hand, Venon stands closed off and emotionless beside him. Both of them hold a change of clothes that resemble the same shade of beige.

“Before room placement I’ll need you two to change under supervision and go through a quick search,” Denel scoffs out, and when he does Leia’s eyes stick to him, “There’s no such thing as too safe and we have many lives to protect. You understand, yes?”

Denel speaks up, “You just said that you heard great stories about her, why breach our privacy like that?” You look over at him with a tight look like a parent would give their child, ridiculing him for the ridiculous question. You look away from him with a tsk when he ignores you. Obviously they need to search the First Order defects, you prideful idiot.

“It’s like you said, there are too many lives at stake. We understand.” You say, glancing back at Denel whose nostrils flare in disdain as he still keeps his gaze from yours.

“I’m glad. I’ll see the two of you again when you get settled. We’re happy to have you here.” Giving a single nod with a smile, she walks from the zone that is now empty, spare your duo and the guards. Tantin releases a displeased hum and motions for you to follow, then leading you to a bland room that only holds a table.

“One at a time, we don’t need you conspiring.” Venon says, and at that Denel stalks forward to go first.

Tantin holds the clothes he has out, which must be meant for Denel and he snags them, muttering under his breath.

“Like we have anywhere else to go.”

As you wait for your turn, you lean on the wall and study the guards that are now silently murmuring between themselves. You strain to listen in, letting your nosiness overpower your want to be quickly accepted. Reasonably you know that being so obvious won’t score you any points on the likeability scale…but they’re not doing too hot on yours either.

Giving up, you put your attention elsewhere, looking up and down the long and narrow walls of the hall you’re in. It’s empty, which is a little bizarre given how many people seemed to be around when you landed, but you’re already ahead of the game today in ignoring things so might as well continue it.

You’re snapped back into this dimension when the door next to you opens and Denel shifts out of the room, the guards stopping their whispers. You push yourself off of the wall, getting your clothes that are outstretched from Venon’s single hand and letting the door close behind you. While changing you let your mind wander to the ineptitude of your guards, especially their inability to listen to make sure the people they think are spies aren’t doing anything suspicious. Their options for people really must be short…it makes you wonder how they’ve stood up to the power of the Order this long.

The thought amuses you, and you pick up your pile of old clothes with a ghost of a smile that promptly gets more pronounced when you see Denel being patted down, his heated glare transfixed on you. He rolls his eyes, turning his head to look away from you. Honestly, you can’t wait for what choice words he’ll use with you later.

When Venon sees you’re out, she motions for you to get up on the wall. You throw the clothes in your hand to Denel’s pile and spread your hands up on the wall, situating your body so that she can pat you down.

“This good for you?”

Without responding, she starts to slide her hands across you in standard procedure. When she gets to check between your buttcrack you jump slightly.

“At least take me out to dinner first.” She scoffs as Denel chokes back a laugh, covering his mouth now that he’s off of the wall.

“It’s protocol,” she says, voice monotone.

“If that’s the excuse you wanna use…” you mumble.

Once both of you were cleared, you follow your guards down the hallway to what must be the residence hall since more people are starting to fill the previously empty space.

You look over to Denel, who’s combing his eyes across the people in the hall, some that aren’t human, “You alright?”

Snapping his eyes over to you, he gives you a pursed smile, “Being patted down wasn’t all that great, but it was better than I thought I’d be.” Your eyebrows pull together in question.

“I thought we’d have to strip down in front of them and have them check us that way.” He shudders, an exaggerated grimace on his face that you laugh at, causing your guards to spare glances back at you two.

“I think if they had to do that, Tantin might have thrown up. Did you see the look he was giving us when he was behind Leia?” He nods, joining your laughing, but he goes silent for a second.

“Is that why you didn’t say anything about the search?”

You shrug at his question, “I thought they’d strip us too, but it’s either this or Ren. Not only that, but they think we’re spies.” Mulling over your words, he lightly rubs at his neck as his eyes stare off to somewhere behind you.

“Yeah…” At that, your conversation lulls and you turn your attention back to the guards as they stop in front of a door.

Venon points at Denel with her index finger, “You,” She pauses, pointing back at the room with her thumb, “This’ll be your room. Do whatever you want, but just know that Tantin’s following your every move.”

Denel gives you a sparing glance before he walks into his room, Tantin following closely behind him.

When the door shuts, Venon motions for you to follow her, “Let’s go.”

It’s a silent walk, and it seems with each step Venon’s body strings up a little tighter–almost like spring being crushed. You look over at her, becoming increasingly aware of her body language. Is she going to say anything? It’s like she’s legitimately coiling within herself.

When she abruptly stops, she glares at you and smashes the panel next to her, opening the door. Just as you’re about to step through the door, partially tickled at her collapsing display of faux emotionlessness, her spring is finally released.

“I don’t know why we have to waste our resources on you,” she growls out, “I don’t know what they see in you.” Biting back a laugh at the familiarity of the sentence, your face remains light and amused as you look at her.

“Are you saying I should care what you think?” You ask, moving to lean against the doorway with your arms crossed.

She looks a little confused by your response, seemingly anticipating something else before she sets back into her (what you hope isn’t) best intimidating glare.

“My word carries a lot of weight regarding your position in this organization, you really want to see where not caring will take you?”

“Is that what you’re going with? A threat?”

“It seems like it’s needed, yes.”

You don’t hold back the laugh this time, “Okay, well earlier you said you don’t know what they see in me,” You finger quote the ‘they,’ “So that leads me to believe someone else’s words carry a lot more weight than yours do.” She looks at you in surprise at your rebuttal, her face then pulling into a scowl.

“So I’m not going to be concerned what my guard…Vee something…thinks about me. Much less if she has to fall into childish threats because she doesn’t agree with others’ decisions.” You uncross your arms and push off the wall, making your way into your new room.

“I’m going to relax now,” You pause in the doorway, keeping eye contact, “Since running away from the First Order doesn’t give you time for much rest.” You try to emphasize that you’re no longer affiliated with the group before you go through the door the rest of the way and walk to the bed, falling down with a big sigh.

You look at the open door, half expecting to see Venon walk through, but she never does.

****

Later that day, you’re sat at a table with Denel and the guards in the cafeteria, one of them being the replacement for Venon after she had stepped down from her post following your conversation. From the time he introduced himself, you knew you’d like him a little better than the last one. He actually seemed to keep everything to himself.

As you pick at your food in disinterest, tuned out from Denel chatting with the guards, you feel eyes on you and look up to find none other than Poe Dameron absentmindedly staring as the people at his table start following his line of sight. You let your face drop into a scowl, not wanting to have any more drama surrounding your arrival that having him staring would surely bring. You take your eyes off of him but can’t help but to glance back.

Just as you do, he looks away blinking as his eyes refocus on the group he sits with, playing off his silence as his table hangs onto every word. You hum to yourself as you look away again, a revelation falling on you. It seems like everywhere he goes there’s a crowd of people that vie for his attention.

It kind of hurts your ego that you fell for the charm too by letting him go more than he deserved…but that’s water under the bridge, especially if you’re sitting at this table right now because of him. Taking a sip from your cup, you look at your group as you continue thinking about your situation. You imagine he probably said something to the General, which you’re more than grateful for.

A smile starts to build on your lips as you set your cup down and glance up at him. The game of trades going between you doesn’t look like it’ll be stopping anytime soon.

Your eyes catch each other before his shoulder is tapped and it’s ripped away, the person whispering in his ear before he quickly gets up, excuses himself, and vanishes from the room.

Coming back to the land of the living, you hear a snap by your head and turn to look at the source, seeing Denel and the other two looking at you in confusion.

“Yeah?”

“I was asking you if you wanted to check out the hangars and see what they have here?”

“Sure, yeah. I was done anyway,” You pick up the barely touched plate as you stand up, Denel and the others mirroring you as you get ready to leave.

*****

“You wanted to see me, General?”

Poe stands at parade rest in front of Leia’s desk, waiting for her to talk, her back facing him as she looks at the screens around her.

“Ever since our new arrivals this morning we’ve started to get some varying unrest around the base.” She turns to look at him and matches his posture. His eyebrows pull together at her words.

“Well we knew that people really wouldn’t like the idea at first, but if they just saw what I saw then they would come around.”

She nods appreciatively, eyes shifting to the datapad that just dinged with an alert before looking back at him, pausing.

“Which is why I called you in here, Poe.”

“Oh?” He relaxes his posture at the use of his first name, knowing the conversation will be a little less professional.

She continues, “Your commander’s guard just stepped down after what she says was an altercation that got out of control.” He brings his hand up to absentmindedly rub at his jaw, gazing off and thinking about how you didn’t look hurt in the cafeteria…in fact you looked happier than he’d ever seen you.

“I want you to be the replacement.” His eyes snap to her, letting out a disbelieving chortle as he’s taken from his thoughts.

“Wait—me? I don’t exactly have the time for guard duty. Not to mention, she already has a guard?” She waves him off, turning back around to the screens.

“You’re both pilots, she’s familiar with you, and other than me you are much more open to the change than anyone else. I can hardly think of a better reason to put you together.”

He hums, acknowledging her reasons, “Guess I don’t have a choice then?”

She looks back at him, a sly smile on her face that he reciprocates. What has he just been wrapped into?

****

Whispers and blurry images circle around your head, soft a feminine voice telling you to hide, the sound of ships landing, beams of red light. And then nothing but a black void. It surrounds you, choking you with the never ending emptiness. It felt still…too still.

You look down at yourself as you start to feel things touching you, your fingers dancing on the long, sheer gray dress that flows down your form into the ankle-deep water your bare feet stand in.

“What?” You mumble to yourself in confusion.

Silence is the only thing that responds to you.

Moments later, that’s torn away as the silence is replaced by a piercing scream that quakes through your head, causing your vision to blur as you crumble to the ground and clench your hands over your head. You’re unaware you’re screaming too until you’re pulled awake by it, sweat drenching your body as you heave, looking to your guard that scrambles awake from the sleep he was catching on the couch.

He gives you a panicked look, “Wha- Are you okay?”

Letting out a shaking breath, you nod, “Nightmare.” He nods, a concerned look still in his eye as he settles back on the couch, keeping his eyes on you. You fall back into your pillows, turning your head to glance at the clock. It was still a few hours until you were meant to get up, but you highly doubt you’ll be able to fall asleep after that.

What was it? Never in your life had you had such a planet-shattering dream. In fact, you pride yourself on the ability of dreamless sleep. Others would complain about how they would keep them up and because you were unable to empathize, you’d punish them when they would make a mistake due to the lack of rest. Now you regret ever doing it (kind of).

The dream just felt so…real. The scream splintered your head like lightning on a tree; you could still feel the pulses in your head, a headache building with every heartbeat. You roll to your side and glance at your guard briefly (you couldn’t remember his name), seeing that he fell back asleep. You breathe out from your nose, closing your eyes to try and chase the few extra hours like him.

However, you pass the rest of the hours left like that, sleep not coming to you given your mind stays stumped on the meaning of the dream and specifically why now?

It was still stuck in your mind as you made your way to the cafeteria, even while grabbing your rations and sitting at the table you designated as yours. You’ve so far said nothing to your guard or Denel, neither bringing up your soured mood; the guard didn’t even bring up last night after you had walked from the refresher this morning, eyebags settled under your eyes.

Taking a glance at the table Poe likes to frequent, you see he’s missing and your mood sours a little more.

Throughout the day that trend continued.

The first time you heard it, you were tuned out and walking back to your room after breakfast, hoping to catch a quick nap before one of your mandatory assessments.

“I heard General Organa turned a blind eye because Dameron has a real close relationship with her,” You tuned into the conversation at the mention of Poe and looked at the two casually posted in the hallway, the one who just spoke lightly hitting their friend in the ribs with their elbow.

“Who knew the clones were so easy?” The other said, and they both snickered as they looked at you, not expecting you to be looking back. At that they guiltily look away, but you’ve already stopped in your tracks, your guard nearly slamming into you.

“You wanna repeat that back to me?” Heavy harshness laced into your voice.

Their eyes widened and they walked away slowly, words stumbling on each other, “I–We–it was just a rumor, it’s probably not true.”

Your eyebrows pulled together, “Probably?” Before you could continue, they were nearly to the corner of the hallway in the blink of an eye, and just as you stepped off to chase them, your guard gripped your arm, shaking his head. You tsked, yanking your arm from his hold and continued your way to your room.

The next time, you were at your mechanical assessment, bent over a droid’s transportation system that had been said to be faulty. After your first hour there, you were reminded you’re glad that you can’t speak binary–however, you could speak basic. Regrettable, given when people spoke in it, it tended to light your fuse.

It was currently one of those times. 34 minutes (yes you were counting) had passed since a pilot started loudly discussing you with her mechanic, the two of them underneath her X-wing repairing Maker-knows-what since they’re paying you more attention than it. You look up to your guard and see that he’s absentmindedly picking at his nails, seemingly not tuning into the conversation. What is with this place?

“And Fara said he had sex with her. I mean..we all know how he is, but the First Order girl? She had to have done something to him.” The pilot lets out a disgusted noise and you glance up at them from your position, rolling your eyes.

“There’s no telling what was on that planet. One of my buddies got some weird dust out of the cockpit and ran it through the spectrometer. It couldn’t even register it!” The mechanic exclaimed as the pilot gasped.

“Maker, she probably took advantage of him. That poor guy.” They let out disappointed sighs and you slam your hands to the table, the small wrench you were holding clattering against the metal as you storm out of the hangar you were in, droid and guard yelling after you. They really want to imply you took advantage of Poe? If anything, they should be counting their lucky stars that you didn’t take advantage of your crew arriving first while he was asleep. Then they wouldn’t have their precious golden boy sitting alive in his nice little X-wing with his nice little squad on his nice little base.

As you're about to step off the tarmac to escape into solitude on a hill somewhere, you find an entire squadron of pilots appraising you with malice, snickering amongst themselves. That’s when your last sliver of good will blows away with the wind that whips around your body from the jets that land meters away from where the squadron stands.

You quickly change your destination, subbing the distant hill for the hangar that Poe’s squadron uses, where they are all so conveniently climbing from their ships after their training session, the droids not yet docking them.

The few who see you stare at you in curious wonder as you make a bee-line to Poe. Seeing as half his squadron is staring behind him, he goes to turn around but is shoved forward with a good amount of force, a noise escaping his mouth as he stumbles to right himself.

“What are you telling people?!” You yell, anger coursing through your veins, and Poe whips around to face you, bewilderment etched onto his face.

“What are you even talking about?!” He yells back, exasperatingly throwing his hands in the air.

“Just in the past few hours, I’ve been subjected to nothing but hatred and petty gossip about how I’ve taken advantage of you or gotten implicative stares like they know something’s happened between us.” You briefly pause, watching his expressions, “It’s tiring having left the undying pettiness of the Order just to come here and get it from the Resistance. Had I known it would be like this, the thought of coming here wouldn’t have even crossed my mind,” You cover your face with your hands, tears of anger threatening to fall from your eyes, “I can’t believe I thought it would be better he–”

“Hey hey hey,” Poe interrupts you, hand moving to touch your shoulder apprehensively, “I’m so sorry that’s happening to you, I have no idea where it came from.” You take a deep breath at his words, trying to stabilize yourself from the manic rant you were falling into and willing the tears to suck back up into your eyes. Once they do, you let your hands fall to your side.

“Listen, I’ll ask around and try to clear it up, okay? Does that sound good?” You nod, adjusting the clothes on your body that start to feel like they’re suffocating you as you become hyper aware of all the eyes on the pair of you.

Your eyes shift from his, cheeks burning, “Sorry...about the push. That was really out of line.”

He steps his right foot out, the hip popping out in turn as he then perches a hand on his waist and cocks his head. A curl falls into his face, an intrusive thought that tells you to push it back into the rest of his curls surfacing to the front of your thoughts. It kind of takes you aback, burning your cheeks even hotter.

“I’m glad you see the forceful shove was out of line,” he lets out a light laugh, “Hopefully you don’t do it again.”

You start to back away slowly, eyebrows pulling together sympathetically, “I’m super sorry, it won’t happen again,” You do an ‘X’ over your heart, “Promise.” He gives you a pursed smile in acknowledgement, which makes you sharply turn around and quickly race to make your way to your guard that stands at the entrance of the hangar.

Poe watches as you leave, the guard that temporarily takes his place saying a few choice words that you ignore before you both disappear around the corner. He sighs as he rights his position and turns around. When he does, his squadron and other onlookers snap into action, an awkward cough escaping a few of them as they pretend they didn’t stop everything to listen in. Snap lets out a whistle before he starts to shed out of his gear and Poe glances at him with a deadpan look.

“You’ve got a lot to handle there, Dameron.”

“Pftt, I learned my lesson on Coruscant,” he says, pulling off the rest of the gear, while Snap chuckles.

Even though that was Snap’s first meeting with you, he already saw how much of a handful you are. The thought makes Poe laugh when he finally takes up his guard position the next morning and you sheepishly step from your door holding a caf, offering it to him.

He takes it from you and studies your face, the corner of his lip upturned, “When did you get this?”

He watches as your tenseness washes away.

“A spy never tells their secrets,” You wink, lips curling into a grin to match the one that Poe has before it’s wiped from his face when your sentence registers.

“One, that’s not funny. And two, I’m so happy to know our internal defenses are so strong that a spy can safely stay here,” he says sarcastically, taking the cup of caf and bringing it to his lips and taking a sip.

Giving you an incredulous look, he glances between you and the cup, “How’d you know the way I like my caf?”

You go to respond, but he interrupts you, “Wait let me guess—a spy never tells their secret.” The laugh you give him takes him aback, making his cheeks start to burn at how heart-stopping it is (much to his dismay).

“I’m teaching you well, Dameron,” the door closes after you retreat back into your room, the fire still burning brightly on his cheeks as your laugh echoes in his head. He quickly blinks to bring himself back to the ground, subconsciously letting the corner of his mouth upturn as he thinks just how well that sentence fits with him. Because yes, while it is really mildly distressing, he finds that you’re steadily teaching him.

Like right now as he sips the drink in his hand, he learns he’s never had good caf until now because you gave it to him with a smile. He’s learning he likes to watch the way your expressions change faster than a switch based on the words of who you’re listening to.

And his favorite lesson is the one that never ends; it’s the one where each interaction with you leaves an imprint on his mind, your face and your voice gluing themselves into every available crevice. Yeah…you’re definitely teaching him well.

He brings the cup of caf to his lips, taking a sip and savoring the taste as it slides down his throat.

Oh man this is going to be hard.

a/n:

they are reunited <3

can i just say i was cackling during the pat down scene? like yeah..it may not fit with reader…but i was delirious when i wrote it and just decided to keep it in because it’s the funniest shit ever.

also side note, i was writing between classes one day and an acquaintance sat next to me and started talking to me. totally forgot to spam click out of everything and i’m pretty sure they saw my star wars research 😃👍🏻 (ha ha i hope they don’t perceive me)

[brown-eyes-and-beskar]

Discovery: Chapter 4

Pairing: Din Djarin x f!reader

Description: As night falls on Arvala-7, you and the Mandalorian find common ground and try to make some kind of plans for your very uncertain future as fugitives.

Rating: T

Word Count: 3k

Author’s Note: Mando and the Doc continue their journey and get a ~little~ closer in the meantime! Hopefully y’all are on board for some slow burn, because that’s exactly what this is going to be. I’m so excited that people are enjoying this, so please let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list or have any thoughts on the chapter :)

Link to Chapter 3

...or start at the beginning

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  

Night descends on Arvala-7 as gently as the answer to a prayer. As the desert heat of the day slowly fades into evening twilight, the sky explodes into life with stars that seem to outnumber the sands beneath your feet.

You’ve never seen nightfall in the desert, and it’s the most breathtaking thing you can imagine. You’ve spent a lifetime staring at these same stars from the window of a Star Destroyer, surrounded by medical textbooks and suspension tanks, or shut up in a laboratory on some remote planet. Never in your life have you stood under the endless canopy of night and seen the stars as they were meant to be seen.

“Doc?” Mando’s voice reaches you where you stand behind Kuiil’s house, mesmerized with your face turned up to the sky. You turn around when you hear the Mandalorian walking around the corner of the house. His besker armor seems to glow in the quiet twilight.

“What is it?” You’re still a bit tense after your experience with Kuiil a few hours ago, when you unleashed all the guilts and fears you’ve been carrying since you escaped the Empire. Your defection feels like it happened decades ago, when you know it’s hardly been a full day since you ran away with Mando and the child.

Mando is standing very still at the corner, and it strikes you that you make him uncomfortable. Why shouldn’t you? You represent everything he’s been fighting against – and running away from.

“Kuiil is going to bed soon,” Mando tells you. “Has to be up early. He wants you to sleep in the side room.”

You nod, turning to face Mando. “Sure.” You hesitate a moment, then ask, “Where will the child be?”

“I’m keeping him with me. Why?”

You hesitate again. “I just… I wanted to be near him. In case he wakes up and needs me to tend to him.” You know Mando can hear the lie in your voice – you really just want to be with the child, not let him out of your sight for a full night.

Mando seems to sense this. “You don’t trust me with him?” he asks, not unkindly.

“It’s not that,” you backtrack. “I just want to be there for him if he needs me.” Then you add, just for good measure, “Do you not trust me with him?”

Mando sighs, stealing a glance back into the house. “It’s not you. It’s him.”

You furrow your brows, thinking Mando means Kuiil, but then your eyes follow the line where Mando’s arm is gesturing. He’s pointing through the doorway to the kitchen counter, where IG-11 stands at full height, polishing a dark bowl. You remember Mando’s defensive body language while you and he sat on Kuiil’s floor upon your arrival, then again at dinner. Mando didn’t let the child out of arm’s reach for a second, and his muscles were tensed, hand on his blaster, through the whole meal.

“You think the droid would come after the baby?” you ask, your voice hushed. You’re only a few paces away from Mando, and you don’t want to risk offending Kuiil if he hears you discussing his droid.

“I know he would.” Mando’s voice is tight. “He helped me hunt the kid down in the first place. He was going to kill first and ask questions later, but I shot him. Kuiil fetched the pieces back from the cave where the kid was being kept.”

This is news to you. “You mean the baby was here?”

“That’s how I met Kuiil. And IG-11.”

Your eyes go wide in astonishment. “I didn’t realize. I just knew you didn’t trust the droid.”

“I don’t trust any droid,” Mando tells you flatly. “And you don’t trust him either.”

“You noticed?”

Mando barely acknowledges your answer. “I’m not leaving the kid alone for a second in this house. Kuiil is with him now, and I haven’t taken my eyes off the droid since I came out here.”

“I don’t blame you,” you agree. “I know you’ll take care of him.”

Again, Mando doesn’t respond beyond an almost imperceptible nod of his helmet. He glances up at the sky, stars reflecting off his shimmering helmet. “You’d better come inside,” he says at last. “It’s not safe to be alone anymore.”

He turns his back and walks into the house, leaving you outside the doorway. You watch him go, a thousand questions spinning through your mind. This Mandalorian puzzles you in a way you’ve never been puzzled before, and you have a feeling that most of your questions will never be answered.

You tilt your head back one more time, closing your eyes and drawing a deep breath of the soothing night air. Then you turn around and follow Mando back into Kuiil’s home.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“This will keep the little one comfortable,” Kuiil muses, tucking several layers of blankets into a makeshift pram. Mando had asked him to fashion something for the child to sleep in, and Kuiil put his craftsmanship skills to work immediately.

“You’re a fine craftsman,” you say appreciatively, taking in the smooth edges and curvature of the floating pram.

Kuiil nods graciously. “I learned much during my years of servitude. I have learned to recognize that some good can come from great evil.”

Kuiil looks at you meaningfully with these words, and you give him a soft smile in return. You know he’s referring to your conversation a few hours ago, and his words bring you another reassurance that calms your worries.

Mando looks back and forth between you and Kuiil, realizing that something is passing between you in that moment. He clears his throat and breaks the silence. “Where does your droid stay at night?”

Kuiil lifts an eyebrow, turning his attention to Mando. “You still do not take my word about IG-11’s reprogrammed nature?”

“I’d like to,” Mando replies, “but I’ve seen too many droids revert to their original programming. The last time I saw that droid, he tried to put a hole through the baby’s head.”

Again, Kuiil nods. “I understand. IG-11 stays in the shed behind my house at night. I will lock the back door, if it brings you some comfort.”

Mando seems almost embarrassed at Kuiil’s generous offer. “You don’t have to do that.”

Kuiil doesn’t respond, just tilts his head to acknowledge Mando’s words. He turns to you and asks, “Will you be comfortable enough in my side room?”

You swallow thickly, glancing down at the child as he slumbers peacefully in his pram. “Actually,” you say hesitantly, letting your gaze drift between Kuiil and Mando, “would you mind if I stayed with the baby tonight?”

You’re not sure which of them you’re asking for permission – and you’re not sure why you have to ask permission, considering all things – but Kuiil shrugs his shoulders. “Perhaps it is wise to have the doctor on hand in case the child awakens in the night,” he suggests.

Mando sighs, giving you a look that probably means, why did you have to ask that. “There’s not enough room for all of us in the side room,” he says meaningfully.

“Then you may all stay in the center room for the night,” Kuiil answers. “I can fetch a pallet for each of you, and the child can stay between you. That way neither of you has to spend the night worrying about the child’s safety.”

You glance over at Mando to see his reaction, but it’s not as defensive as you might have thought. “Fine,” he sighs. “I’ll get my pack.”

He turns and walks back to the Razor Crest outside for a moment, and Kuiil smiles at you. “He did not protest as much as I thought he would,” Kuiil says, a laugh hiding behind his eyes. “Perhaps he is getting used to you.”

“Perhaps,” you agree.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

You can feel the Mandalorian’s eyes on you as you’re leaning over the child’s pram, gently rubbing a greenish paste over his eyelids.

“What are you doing?” Mando asks, his husky voice sounding distant in the silent, dark little room.

“It’s a Ghhhk salve,” you answer softly. “Heals any internal wounds while providing comfort.”

Mando grunts in response, still keeping his eyes on your careful movements. The child hasn’t stirred a muscle since you stepped foot on Arvala-7, and you can’t conceal your worry. The Ghhhk salve is a last-minute solution, and you can only pray that it will combine with the stimulant you gave him earlier to help him wake from the drugged state.

You finish applying the paste, reseal the little jar, and store it in your medical bag. You don’t have a large supply of items, but you have enough to get by on a remote planet, at least.

Your task finished, you set the bag aside and lie back on the pallet Kuiil made for you. You and Mando are both sleeping on the floor of the center room, separated by several arms’ lengths and the hovering pram. Normally, you would be uncomfortable with such a set-up, but the room is very dark and Mando hasn’t made a sound. You hardly know he’s there.

Oh, but you do know he’s there.

You’re wondering how you’re ever going to fall asleep like this – with the worry of the child hanging over your head, and the mysterious presence of the Mandalorian – but your thoughts are interrupted by Mando’s voice again.

“You’ve… been taking good care of him,” Mando says in a voice so gentle that it hardly seems to have come from him.

You pause, thinking that Mando will say something else, but he doesn’t. “I’d do anything for him,” you answer.

“I believe you.”

Several silent moments pass, and you wonder if Mando fell asleep. You decide to chance it anyway. “Mando?”

More silence. “Yes?”

“I didn’t thank you for what you did earlier,” you tell him. “When you introduced me to Kuiil. When you told him I was trustworthy.”

Mando shifts, still lying on his back but with his helmet tilted just slightly towards you. “He wouldn’t have let you on the property if he thought you were Imperial.”

You curse yourself for the pang of disappointment you feel at those words. And here you had been hoping that Mando meant what he said about trusting you. “Oh.”

Another short silence follows – always silence with this man – but Mando doesn’t let it pass for long. “I did mean what I said,” he announces, reading your thoughts.

“Did you?” You roll onto your side to face him, though he can’t see you in the darkness. “You’ve known me for less than a day. How could you trust me with your life?”

Mando shrugs a little. “In life or death situations, you see a person’s true colors. You see who they really are and what they stand for. I knew from the second you threw that clipboard at me that you weren’t protecting yourself. You were protecting the child.”

“You’re right.” You have to force back a smile at the memory of hitting the Mandalorian right between the eyes with the clipboard. “Sorry about that, by the way.”

“Don’t be,” Mando replies, the hint of a chuckle in his voice. That’s new. “I would have been less impressed if you fell on your knees and begged me to take the kid and not you.”

You feel your face redden in the darkness. He was impressed by you?

“I didn’t know if I could trust you either,” you admit. “Seeing you barge into the room in your blinding beskar, waving a blaster around like you wanted to destroy anyone who looked at you the wrong way.”

Mando chuckles again, this time a bit more noticeably. “I wasn’t planning on taking any runaways. I almost didn’t take you with me.”

“I’m glad you did,” you blurt out, not worried about sounding too overeager. “If you hadn’t come along, I may have stayed trapped with the Empire forever.”

“Why not just run away? You said you father was killed a month ago. Surely you’ve had another opportunity since then.”

You pause, letting the silence wrap around you for a few moments. “Even if I could have escaped,” you say, your voice sounding small, “I wouldn’t have had anywhere to go.”

Mando doesn’t answer at once. Your words hang heavy in the air, blanketing you with their weight. This is really the heart of the matter – you ran away with the Mandalorian because you hoped you and the child might have a chance at a better life.

When Mando speaks again, he seems to be changing the subject. “I was talking to Kuiil after dinner,” he says abruptly. “I asked him what he thought of you.”

Why is he telling you this?

“Oh, really?” you ask, because you’re not sure how else to respond.

“Yes.” Another pause. “He said he thinks it would be wise to keep you with the child for awhile.”

Your heart almost leaps out of your chest at those words, and you push yourself up on your elbows to look in the direction of Mando’s pallet. “Does he?” You hope your voice doesn’t betray your excitement.

“He said having a doctor around would be an advantage,” Mando continues, “especially with him being sick from the drug treatments.”

“I… I’d be glad to take care of him,” you stammer, your heart flying faster and faster at the thought. “Whatever he needs.”

Mando makes a noise that sounds like approval. “He needs someone to look after him for awhile. I’ve never taken care of a kid before, so maybe you could… show me what to do to care for him.”

“Of course!” You know you sound too excited now, but you don’t care. “I mean, I’ve never worked with children of any species as a profession, but I know a decent amount from my medical training and work in the gene farms.”

“Good.” Mando seems to be pondering something now, and you let him think in silence, turning over the new possibilities in your head. You’ll get to stay with the child! You won’t have to give him up and start over in a new world that you know nothing about with complete strangers and constant fear and –

“It wouldn’t be permanent.” Mando is speaking again, and your breath catches as he adds, “Just until we’re sure the kid is stable. Safe.”

You exhale a slow breath, reminding yourself that this deal is better than any you could have hoped for. Just because you wanted it to be semi-permanent doesn’t mean that it’s best.

“Sure,” you agree hastily, cloaking the disappointment in your tone. “Just as long as the child needs me.”

“I’ll make sure you’re safe as long as you’re traveling with us,” Mando continues, sounding deep in thought. “You’ll have my protection as long as you’re caring for the child.”

You swallow hard, remembering that Mando’s us refers to him and the baby, not you. “Thank you. I appreciate that.”

Mando takes a very long moment before speaking again. “Whenever that time comes… when the kid is safe and doesn’t need your treatment anymore… I’ll take you where you want to go.”

You furrow your brow. Mando’s words seem foreign, as if they were spoken from another room or through a thick glass. Take you where you want to go?

You fight through the emotion that is slowly climbing into your throat. “Sure.”

“Any idea where that might be?”

You close your eyes, the first tear slipping down your cheek as you answer his question. “Anywhere.”

Mando shifts into a different position, probably so that he can face you more directly. “What does that mean?” he asks in confusion.

Another tear escapes your closed eyelids. “It doesn’t matter where you leave me. It’s all the same to me.”

He doesn’t seem to know how to react to your statement, so he lets the words hang for a few minutes. Then, after what seems like a lifetime, “Well… where do you come from?”

“Byss. Beshqek system.” You set your jaw. Your voice trembles slightly as you tell him, “Its pieces have been floating through space for a long time.”

Mando sounds genuine when he replies, “I’m sorry.”

You don’t answer that, trying to stop the tears from rolling down your face any more. “I have nowhere to go,” you confess. “When the time comes, when the child doesn’t need me anymore, just drop me off somewhere and let me disappear. One planet is as good as any other to me.”

At length, Mando says, “I understand,” and no more is said between you.

You turn onto your other side, facing away from Mando. The day has held so many extreme emotions – terror, desperation, anxiety, confusion, relief, hopefulness, and now disappointment. It wasn’t that you actually thought Mando was going to offer to take you on as part of his crew, sailing through the stars free as the wind with the child in your care.

Well, maybe you had hoped that a little.

Darkness rules the room now, and you let your eyes focus on the little round window over your head. Stars wink coyly through the desert air, a mellow breeze washing over your tear-stained face. As you gaze into the night, you wonder if you’re looking at the planet that will one day be your home.

One planet is as good as any other to me.

You squeeze your eyes shut and pray to some distant force that the child will wake soon, that you can see his joyful brown eyes light up when he sees you again. You pray that your guilt and shame might be absolved someday, that you might know what it is to live a life you can be proud of. You pray that somehow, the galaxy will give you the dreams you have dreamed your whole life.

As you drift away on the kiss of the breeze and the melodies of the night, a deep sadness sweeps over you, then a deep longing, and finally a deep, deep slumber.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

When you awaken the next morning, dawn’s first rays streaming through the window onto your face, your heart leaps with delight at the sound of the child’s laughter.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Link to Chapter 5

Tag list: @3zae-zae3, @seiphira

[tierneysodegaard]

Dog Days - Max Verstappen x Reader - Part Three

Read Part two here

Max Verstappen x female!reader

Warnings: Christian Horner being mentioned, angsty Max, swearing

Wordcount: 4.3K

Summary: Every moment Max spent with you was hell and he thought the same, so when a dog is rescued from the track and both of you want to keep it, the pair of you would have to stomach one another. Whoever the dog runs to at the end of the season gets to keep him and maybe a stray dog won’t be the only thing coming home with you when the season is over. 

Since agreeing to move in with Max for two weeks he had raced in Spain and picked up second place behind Lewis yet again. Something he was yet again frustrated with as he wanted the points. Max had been focused on the race so the pair of you had hardly spoken to one another. He occasionally invited you into his room to spend time with the dog, seeing as the two of you were in competition to keep him. Which led you to now, Max had told you to meet him in the hotel car park with your things, the plan was to drive you to the airport, catching his private jet to his apartment. 

You would be lying if you said you were confident about this whole idea. Deep down you knew this could be one of the worst two weeks of your life or it could be bearable. If you were honest you were betting more on it being the worst. Max wanted you to be there by 10:00 am but on your way, you bumped into a happy Daniel. 

“Never thought I’d see you up this early,” Daniel remarked, his iconic smile lighting up his face. 

“Wouldn’t be up if I wasn’t going home with Max.”

“Sorry?” Daniel’s expression dropped, looking around the hotel corridor making sure no one was around so he could continue the conversation. “Are you and Max?” His eyes widened. “You know… I thought you hated him?”

“No Daniel I’m staying with him at his apartment until Monaco.” Your eyes narrowed, giving him a ���you can’t be serious’ look. “Because of the dog.” Daniel looked down to be met with the big blue and brown eyes of the white dog sitting beside you. 

“He’s a sweet dog.” He leant down to pet him. “Do you have a name for him yet?”

“We don’t.” You warmed to his actions. “I wanted to name him Daniel but Max said no.”

The Australian laughed at your words, looking up at you before speaking again. “I think it would fit him well.”

“I agree.” You mirrored his expression. “He’s going to need a name soon, I can’t just keep calling him ‘boy’.”

“Do you have any in mind?”

“Nothing yet, something Formula one themed, more specifically as he’s going to be either owned by me or Max then a Red Bull themed name.”

“Well, I’ve heard you aren’t going to be there for much longer.”

Your face scrunched up at his words. “Where did you hear that?”

“Little Lando.”

“That was just a floating idea.” Your smile faded. “Lando wanted to see if I could join McLaren so I could work alongside the two of you rather than Max.”

“Would you take it?”

“I don’t know, I’ve always been with Red Bull.”

“Would you really leave that team because of Max?”

“I wouldn’t leave my job because a man annoys me Daniel but if McLaren gave me a better offer I would definitely think about it.”

Daniel stood up now, his eyes meeting yours as he spoke. “y/n he likes you more than you think. He doesn’t do it intentionally -”

“Yes he does.”

“Okay maybe he does a few times but I know Max doesn’t hate you. Look,” He ran a hand through his hair, huffing as he did so. “Max is weird -”

“Well spotted.”

“I actually think he’s intimidated by you. I mean look at you, you’re self-made, you have every driver on the grid wrapped around your little finger not to mention how you managed to have a full-scale argument with Christian Horner and managed to keep your job because even he was impressed you can stand up for yourself. I think Max worries he’s not going to be the boss with you around.”

“He isn’t the boss anyway.”

“He basically is, sure Horner can instruct him to do things and so can the team but at the end of the day would Red Bull go far without him? Probably not, if he has a problem it’s fixed straight away and you’re the only one at Red Bull who doesn’t give in to him. Maybe that’s where his fascination lies.”

Daniel did have a point. When you joined Red Bull Max was fine with you, that was until he and you had a conversation. Max walked into you once and as a result, steadied you in his arms. He looked down and evidently tried to flirt and you were having none of it. You were there to do your job, not to be one of the girls Verstappen drags along and invites over when he’s bored. Ever since then the pair of you snapped at one another almost every day. 

He was taken back by your actions, most girls threw themselves at him but not you. You wouldn’t deny that he was attractive and Max wouldn’t deny that he also found you attractive. Perhaps that’s why he’d turned to annoy you if he couldn’t get your attention by flirting then he would get your attention another way. Unfortunately for him you then began to grow to despise him. 

You never meant to come across the way you had done on that day but you didn’t want a reputation in the industry when you had only just started. Being a woman in a male-dominated industry was hard enough, you didn’t need rumours that you were sleeping with one of the drivers.

“So you’re saying he goes out of his way to annoy me every day because he’s intimidated by me?”

“That’s what I think, he’s just taken back by you.” He took a breath. “Maybe talk to him.”

“Do you not think I haven’t tried?”

“Maybe this time it’ll be different, I wish you luck staying at his place.”

“Is it bad?”

“Surprisingly when I went it was rather clean so you’ve got that in your favour and the guest bedroom has the best bed I’ve ever slept on, and it was far away from Max’s room so if he bought a lady friend back I didn’t have to worry.”

“You can say woman Daniel.” You were about to continue but something about Daniel's words made you pause. ‘It was far away from Max’s room’ but Max had told you that your room would be next to his. “How many guest rooms has he got?”

“Uhh, a few.” Daniel pondered on the thought. “The apartment is pretty big, you’ll be able to avoid him for those weeks if you need it.”

“Can’t wait.” You gave him a faint smile. 

“Here,” Daniel pulled your bag off your shoulder and reached his hand out to take your suitcase from you. “I’ll take your stuff down for you.”

“Thank you, Daniel.” You shared a smile as he took your bags down to the car park for you. 

                                                           —

Max was leaning up against his car, his Dad was sitting in the front with the door open so he could still talk to his son who was scanning the car park, waiting for you. “Maybe she decided not to come back with you,” Jos spoke, eyeing his son up. 

“She would have told me.” Max bluntly replied. “She wouldn’t just go home.”

“I’ve seen her act around the garage, be careful Max.”

“Be careful? She’s not exactly a scary woman.”

“She hangs around with other drivers -”

“I hang around with other drivers.” The younger Verstappen hit out, huffing as he checked his watch. “Please just leave her be.”

His Dad didn’t say a word, only shaking his head as he too began to look around the car park. The pair didn’t sit in silence for long when Max caught sight and heard your laugh. He watched as Daniel, you and the dog all briskly walked towards Max, sending him smiles as you did so. 

Giving him an apologetic look, especially as you saw that his Dad was in the car, you made your way over to the boot. “Sorry I’m late, you can probably guess why.” You glanced over at Daniel.

“It’s fine, we won’t be late anyway.” Max opened the boot for you, holding his arms out to take your bags from his old teammate before carefully putting them on top of his luggage. 

“Sorry I held her up.” The Australian spoke. 

“It’s fine, just glad she’s not hurt.”

“You know I can handle myself quite well around here.”

“Believe me y/n I am well aware.”

Daniel opened the door to the back seats, allowing the dog to jump in, leaving it open for you to climb in, seeing as Jos was in the front. “Thank you, Daniel, I’ll see you in a week and a half.”

“It can’t come quick enough.” He laughed, pulling you into a hug, letting your head rest on his chest as he placed his chin on top of your head, savouring the moment. He knew what he was doing, he could tell Max was getting pissed off by the way Daniel pulled you closer to his body and held onto you for a little too long. “I’ll see you soon.” He pulled back. 

“Be safe Daniel.”

“Can’t promise that.” He winked before turning to Max. “Take care man, I’ll see you soon. I’m sure we’ll talk before then.”

“See you, man.” 

“Bye Jos!” Daniel yelled, Jos only raised his hand as a signal of goodbye as Daniel walked off back to the hotel, leaving you, Max and his Dad. 

“Sorry again -”

“Don’t apologise, just get in we’ve got to go.” His tone was blunt but he sounded on edge, almost worried about something. His hand reached the small of your back as he guided you into the car before shutting the door behind you. 

Jos never spoke to you for the entire journey to Max’s home, thankfully he wasn’t staying with the two of you. Max dropped him back to his before taking you to his apartment. You never thought you’d say it but Max Verstappen had a rather nice apartment. His trophies were proudly on display as well as a few painted canvasses of himself. There were framed photos of him and his family littered around the living room, he even had a few just dedicated to his cats. 

Max carried your bags in and even managed to balance his own alongside even though you told him you were capable of holding a bag and a dog. His cats came running as they heard the door open and his smile grew. 

“Hello, you two.” He bent down and greeted them both before both of the cats turned to look at you and more importantly, the massive white dog that stared them down. You hesitated to walk in as the cats backed away slowly. “Bring him in, they’ll be okay.” 

Following Max’s instructions, you took the dog into the apartment, allowing him to shut the door and dump the bags on the floor. “Nice to finally meet the cats you never stop talking about.”

For the first time today, Max finally cracked a smile. “They’re angels, you can pet them. They won’t hurt you.”

“I think we might need to wait for them to settle around him before they even feel like coming near me.” You motioned to the animals. 

“Jimmy will probably follow you to the bathroom, he’s like that.” You smiled at his words and how he proudly looked down at them. “I’ll show you to your room, then we can let these guys calm down and hopefully they’ll get along.” 

Max grabbed your things before leading you down the hall. “In here is where my computer is, if I’m not in my room I’ll be working in here.” He opened the door to show you inside. “Down at the end of the hall is the gym, feel free to use it if you want. I’ll be in there for most of the morning and part of the afternoon but don’t hesitate and here is your room.” He stopped outside a large oak door, opening it to reveal a room nicer than your house. 

The walls were a pale grey and the bed looked as if it had been made and never been touched again. Unfortunately, that didn’t last long as the dog jumped up on the duvet, rolling around in the sheets, making himself at home. 

Both you and Max smiled at the way the dog acted. It was evident he’d never had a home or love like this. “Someone likes it here.” 

“He should get used to it, he’ll be coming home with me at the end of the season.” Max turned to look at you. 

“You won’t be that lucky Verstappen, I think I’m the favourite already.”

“Maybe but he hasn’t lived with you yet. You wouldn’t want to take him away from somewhere he loves would you?”

“Who says he won’t love my place even more?”

“You don’t even like your own place.”

“Fair point Verstappen.” Max smirked before placing your bags on the bed. 

“That door leads you to your en suite, and the main bathroom is just beside the gym. My room is just next door. If you need me just knock, even if it’s late. Help yourself to anything in the cupboards. Oh and that remote is for the Tv.” He pointed to the bedside table. “The Tv is built into the bed, you know of those ones that come out from the end of the bed, just click the red button and it’ll come up for you.”

“Thank you, Max.”

“I’ll make dinner, I normally make it around six-ish, if that’s okay with you.”

“That’s perfect, thank you.” 

“You’re welcome.” He smiled one last time before leaving you to unpack. When the door was shut you turned to look at the dog who looked as if he was smiling straight at you. 

“Maybe you won’t be the only one who’ll like living here.” Almost like he understood what you were saying he barked in response. 

                                                         —

Your time with Max had gone well, surprisingly. At home, Max was an entirely different person. He was so much calmer and relaxed in general. The pair of you were yet to argue, then again you didn’t see one another as much. Max woke up early and trained in the gym with his trainer, he would go on a run with the dog, come home and play on his computer for hours, make dinner for you both, watch a film or some television with you and then go to bed. Whereas you would get up for your meetings, finish any work you had, take the dog on a walk in the evening and have dinner with Max before going to bed. 

Max was currently talking to some of the other lads as he played on his computer whilst you and Natasha were sitting on a call, finishing up some work. 

“I still can’t get over the fact that you’re staying with Max Verstappen.” She remarked. 

“Neither can I but it’s gone smoothly, I thought we’d kill one another but we haven’t.” You smiled to yourself. “Not yet anyway.”

“How's the dog?” You looked over to the dog who was laying on the floor with Jimmy curled up on his stomach. 

“He’s doing well, he loves it here.”

“And do you love it there too?” She raised her brows at you, a smirk tugging on her lips. 

“I enjoy it here yes.” You mirrored her gaze. “And no nothing has happened if that’s what you’re going to imply.”

“I never implied anything.” A laugh escaped her lips.

“Although… one thing has confused me.”

“What’s that?”

“So I spoke to Daniel before leaving and he said Max gave him one of the rooms down the hall, closer to the gym but Max gave me the room right next door to him, maybe I’m looking too much into it but why would he want me next to him?”

“Maybe it’s because you’re always next to him at hotels.”

“But this isn’t a hotel.”

“For him, not for you.”

“I don’t know maybe I am thinking too much into it.”

“Ask him, I think he’s doing it to make you feel safer. You know, you’re in a whole new place with a man who you love to argue with, not to mention how weird his Dad is and how he likes to hang around Max all the time.”

“I’d rather not.” You kept working. “Maybe he didn’t want Daniel to hear him fucking someone.”

“Has he fucked someone since you’ve been there?”

“Nope, luckily for him or I would have killed him even if it is his own house.” 

“You might need to keep him alive until the end of the season otherwise many, many people will come after you but don’t worry if he does remember payday is tonight so you can buy headphones to block it out.”

You didn’t engage in the conversation any further, you just continued to work. Maybe Natasha had a point, maybe he was doing it to make you feel more at ease. If she’d told you that before you’d basically moved in with him you wouldn’t have believed her but the Max you now knew was entirely different and you could believe that he would do that to make you feel safer. 

When your call had ended you left Jimmy and the dog to sleep in your room as you made your way to the kitchen. Filling up the kettle you planned to make yourself a cup of tea when Max walked in. You made eye contact with him and smiled he never returned the smile. “Do you want one?” Ignoring his expression you spoke in a cheerful tone.

“Please.” You nodded before opening one of the cupboards and reaching up to grab a mug but you struggled. Max was taller therefore his mugs were on a higher shelf. Max spotted your struggles and moved behind you to help, what you didn’t expect was for him to press his whole body against you to do so. 

You gripped the counter at the sudden contact. He lifted the mugs off the shelves and placed them in front of you before he planted his hands on either side of you, trapping you between him and the work surface. You could feel his breath on your neck, making your skin light up. Your breathing began to quicken before Max spoke. 

“When were you going to tell me?” His face was closer to you, if he moved an inch closer his lips would be on the back of your neck. 

“Tell you what?”

Max grabbed your hips and spun you around so you were now facing him. Your eyes met his blue ones before they dropped to his body. He was wearing a skin-tight white shirt, if it was any smaller it would rip. Grey joggers clung to his waistline but you couldn’t stare too long as he spoke again, grabbing your attention. 

“You know what.”

“Max I really don’t -”

“When were you going to tell me Lando fucking Norris had offered you a job at McLaren?”

Your eyes widened at his words. Max’s eyes stared you down, his breathing getting heavier with every second. You could feel the heat rising within him, clearly pissed off at you. “Max, I’m not -”

“Don’t fucking lie to me y/n.”

“I’m not Max.”

“Then why did he tell me you were thinking about leaving? Hmm?”

“Max please let me explain.”

“You might want to hurry up.”

“Please…” You let out a whisper. Max’s eyes softened, silently letting you know that he'd let you speak as he calmed himself. “Lando knows we don’t get on and he told me that he would see if McLaren had a job for me so I could work alongside him and Daniel.”

“And would you?”

“No probably not, I’ve been with Red Bull for my entire career if it wasn’t for them I wouldn’t know you, I wouldn’t know anyone I do now.”

“Is it me or the money side of things?”

“Sorry?”

“Would you leave because of me or because you don’t get paid enough?”

“I’m not going to leave -”

“Answer the question.” He leaned in further, his tone darker. 

“Max there’s no question to answer, I’m not going to leave because you get on my nerves and sure I don’t get paid as much as I’d like to be paid more, the thrill and enjoyment of travelling and meeting people like Natasha and other drivers make up for it.”

Max didn’t say a word, causing your nerves to grow. “Max I’m not leaving… I promise.” You whispered the last part but he heard it. Without saying a word he pushed himself off the counter and trailed back to his room. He was about to disappear down the corridor before he turned around to look at you. 

“I’m not that bad am I?” He almost looked sad at his own words but the anger was still there. “I know I tease you and occasionally piss you off -”

“More than occasionally.” Perhaps you should have kept that to yourself as he seemed to get worse. 

“Fucking fine then more than occasionally but really y/n I am that bad?”

“Yes, Max you bloody are!” You’d never raised your voice at him like this before. “You piss me off more than I can imagine it is a wonder how so many of them men can put up with you, no wonder why you can only sleep with girls and never keep them around for longer than a night! You’re insufferable.” He stepped back in the hall a little, your words taking him by surprise. He didn’t reply, he just nodded before walking back to his room. Now it was your turn to jump as he slammed the door behind him. 

“Fuck…” You whispered under your breath knowing that you’ve fucked up. Max was evidently a different person at home. The stress of Formula one getting to him when he was on the race track, perhaps that’s why he treated you so differently, especially as you never warmed up to him like the others. You’d seen him try and start physical fights with drivers so it’s evident he was different in that atmosphere. Not that you were going to excuse his rude actions towards you. 

You still made Max tea, knocking on his door and leaving it just outside before returning to yours. You laid on the bed, the night sky swallowing the world just outside the window. Your eyes trailed to the moon as Jimmy left the sleeping dog on the floor and jumped up onto the bed. The cat sat in between your chest and armpit, allowing him to use your shoulder as a pillow when he laid down. 

You smiled at the cat's actions. Sassy was with Max, evidently enjoying his company more than yours and a giant white dog but Jimmy seemed to enjoy the attention. “What am I gonna do boy?” You spoke to the animal. “I fucked up… I’m never going to take that job. I couldn’t leave Red Bull -”

Just as you spoke your phone went off. You looked over and saw you’d received your pay check. You had to blink a few times as you read the numbers, refreshing the notifications to make sure that it was right. It wasn’t the normal amount you got every month in fact it was almost double what you were normally paid. Unlocking the phone and signing into your online bank you saw nothing different, it was paid by Red Bull and just seemed like your regular pay check. 

You honestly wondered if someone was trying to joke, scam you even or maybe someone had messed up your payment by mistake. You didn’t ponder for long, deciding to text your boss for some answers.

You: Sorry It’s late Jess but did you get my payment right? It’s far more than normal, sorry if I woke you x

Jess: You know me, always up! Yes, someone put in a good word about you, asked if you could have more money on a monthly basis. They wouldn’t stop until we gave it to you x

You: Who was it? X

Jess: Do you really want to know? X

You: I feel like I have the right to know, it’s so much money x

Jess: Max Verstappen x

Your heart sunk at the text as you thought back to when you spoke to Max about your pay check, and how you wished for more money as times got tough occasionally. Part of you thought it was selfish. You worked with some of the best people in the world, anyone would kill for what you had yet you still moaned about it and now a future world champion was demanding that you got more. 

What Max didn’t know was that the money you’d now been given and would be paid monthly would be enough for your savings for a new apartment where you would be able to live on your own, in peace with no more loud housemates. Max Verstappen had given you freedom, and you had nearly turned your back on him for a new job. 

“Oh Jimmy,” You looked down at the sleeping cat “I fucked up…” 

If cats could talk you knew he’d agree with you. 

Taglist: @ujisworld @withyoutilltheendofthismess @lackey-laufeyson @starrystarkey93​

[legacygirlingreen]

August 1890 // Farmer Sebastian Sallow x reader (part 7)

Part 7, full master list and description here

Word Count: 1,500

And to hide that would be so dishonest

It had been well over a month since that day that Sebastian had stormed off. She had hardly seen him since, despite being over at his house most days to help with Anne. She would hope to catch him, often annoying his uncle by wondering where he was. If she had to guess the boy was hell bent on never seeing her again. 

Anne wasn’t much help either, as whenever she asked why Sebastian was avoiding her, the sick girl simply would say “that’s something you need to ask Sebastian” before turning away with a grimace. 

Eventually she had enough, giving up and deciding if he was going to avoid her, she wasn’t going to keep trying. A small part of her had to wonder if he ever even considered her a friend, or if she was simply a replacement for Anne in his brain. Regardless she tried to move on, and get ready for school to start. Her mother had worked hard to get her uniforms for school, the beautiful blue silk looking quite wonderful on her. 

With only a few days left in the summer, she decided to seek out her willow in hopes of getting a quiet moment alone before she would be sharing a room once more. She had grown to like the solitude in the loft without rooming with siblings. Knowing the dorms in Beauxbatons, she’d be forced back into roommates. 

As she sat down at the base of the tree, she heard a noise above her. Looking up she saw Sebastian attempting to cast disillusionment. He wasn’t fast enough and the two made eye contact. 

“I didn’t know this spot was taken. Don’t worry I’ll find another.” she said curtly before picking up her book and lifting her skirt so she could stand, then proceed to start stomping away. 

Sebastian dropped down and followed her, shouting “y/n wait” and she ignored him, much in the same way he’d done the same for almost a month now. Unfortunately she knew he’d catch her eventually but that didn’t stop her from continuing to walk away to prove a point. 

When he finally caught up to her he pulled her wrist, forcing her around. Her eyes showed the venom boiling under her skin and he sulked back slightly, not used to seeing the girl so angry, let alone at him. Her anger caused the words on his tongue to die as he sputtered before her. 

“Do you have anything to actually say, or are you just going to stand there sputtering like a fish out of water Sallow?” 

“Right, I am an idiot… I’m sorry” he said almost as a question, and despite the rushed tone of his reply, she could tell there was a semblance of sincerity buried beneath the awkward nature of the apology. Regardless, a simple apology after so long ignoring her wasn’t going to cut it. And he knew that. 

“What are you sorry for? I’m just the annoying girl next door, not like you need to waste your time on a silly little girl like me, especially since it's my fault you’ll be all alone apparently” she said, forcing the tears threatening to spill due to her anger in her eyes. 

“You’re not, - I don’t see you - I know it's not -” he kept trying to get a proper explanation but he kept coming up short. Frustratingly he ran a hand through his dark hair and groaned. 

“Do you plan to speak to me using complete sentences or just stand there ripping your hair out?” she asked snarkily. 

“I should never have made you feel bad for something out of your control, alright? I had no right to be angry or disappear solely because I was disappointed you weren’t following in my footsteps. I think it's wonderful you can attend Beauxbatons, truly. I apologize for my unpleasant behavior as of late. It was not fair to you.” he explained, finally having collected his thoughts. 

“What made you change your mind” she inquired, tone still blunt with him, but Sebastian could sense a mild amount of acceptance. 

“I overheard you speaking with Anne, that day you came over to show her your school uniform… you seemed truly happy about going back to France. Not to mention the comments you made about feeling connected to your father by attending the same school as him… that you know he’d be proud of you… I suppose that hit a chord with me, as being at Hogwarts, knowing my father not only attended there, but also taught at the school… It makes me feel like a part of him lives on.  How could I ever want anything less for you in that regard. You of all people” Sebastian’s tone shifted often throughout his explanation, first being remorseful, then nostalgic and ending with disgrace directed at himself. 

“I accept your apology.” she said without offering any other commentary. 

“I suppose you’re going to end up in blue regardless. I still think you’d have made a brilliant ravenclaw… but Beauxbatons is fortunate to have you” he said trying to liven up the mood. 

“We still aren’t even sure what house I’d have been in. For all we know it would’ve been a Slytherin.” she joked.

“Absolutely not. You’d have made a terrible Slytherin. I can confirm, I’m sort of an expert.” he commented with mock confidence and she rolled her eyes as they looked at one another before breaking the serious expression, replacing them with soft laughter. After the small chuckles died down, they didn’t speak for a moment, letting the silence loom.

“I got something for you. Got it that day in Hogsmeade and I meant to give it to you but I ran off… sorry again about that.” he told her digging in his pocket. 

Her eyebrow peaked at the thought of him getting something for her. Eventually finding what he was searching for, Sebastian pulled out an object small enough that it could be completely concealed by his hand. Gesturing for her to open her palm, she did as he asked. 

Sebastian delicately placed the wand handle, made of an amethyst so light it was almost clear, in her hands, allowing her to examine it before he explained his thought process. 

“Don’t get me wrong, your wand truly is a thing of beauty, not to mention it has enough character on its own… I still thought it could look more personal to you I suppose. I originally got it thinking you were going to Hogwarts, hoping that french amethyst would be special and could make you still feel connected to that part of you… I suppose now it's not that spectacular–” he started to reason when she hugged him tightly. 

“This is beautiful Sebastian, thank you” she explained, rubbing it gently in her hands, imagining it on her wand, thinking how beautifully the color would look against the natural wood. 

“I hope whenever you use it, you’ll think of Feldcroft, and remember that you’re never alone.” he explained and she smiled. 

“I’m going to miss you, I am sorry things didn’t work out like you had hoped. I truly did want to be there, especially with Anne being sick…” she said remorsefully. 

“I know, but let’s just make the best of the situation at hand. You’ll go, make lots of friends, learn so much, get to speak in your native language for a while, and then come back here for Yule time. I am sure by then I will have cured Anne, and we can all enjoy time in the hamlet” he said, overly hopeful but trying to convince himself it was possible. 

“My owl is going to hate me you know” she joked and he laughed.

“We better start fattening them up now so that they can fly it off going back and forth between France and Scotland” he commented. 

“Their wings may fall off if we aren’t careful” she playfully retorted. 

“They will start a rebellion I’m sure” 

“Could you imagine?” she laughed 

“I can. They will have to deal. I couldn’t possibly go months without writing to my little cabbage” he joked and she laughed.

“What would I do without the obnoxious farmer next door?” she asked rhetorically. 

“Obnoxious?! That fancy French school of yours already has you thinking you’re better than the poor, Scottish, farm boy now?” He pretended to be appalled but she could see the humor in his eyes. 

“Never. And mind yourself: I am half french you know.” she mildly threatened and he laughed. 

“How could I forget? Sébastien this. Sébastien that.” he teased making fun of how she pronounced his name with her accent. 

“Says the boy who calls me cabbage intentionally as retribution for his qualms with my countrymen for making their language translate terms of endearments with vegetables.” 

“Touche” he said.

“Touché. Another word from the French.” she teased pronouncing it correctly. 

The pair of them erupted into a fit of giggles beneath the Sallow tree as the last moments of summer were spent making up for lost time…

[dulcewrites]

Seeing Jaehaerys little casket and his face being the only thing showed is so saddening. I feel like Otto purposely left his face out in the open cause normally they cover the face. I was kinda surprised that Helaena was in there at the funeral(I know it’s her son so it’s expected she’d show up ), but if I remember she became extremely depressed to the point she didn’t leave her room. So I wonder if after the funeral thats when she’ll retreat t her room and hardly leave.

I also wanna know where Tom and Ewan were, some say that’ll be in the back on horseback and that their filming the closes up on different days or up in the air on their dragons.

Helaena and her children deserves so much better 😭. As much as I hate it Otto making Jaehaerys funeral into something public and showing the body was a smart. He’s Fr the Kris Jenner of Westeros. I know alot of people hate team green but not me, I find them so more interesting then team black.

Also seeing this dumbass tweet 😭.

I’m just glad the costume are better then last season 🙏🏽.

I think the funeral will happen almost immediately after and probably trigger more sadness for Helaena tbh :(. Like she’s gonna be riding around staring at her dead son.

Though I do want to see what Aegon and Aemond (more Aegon) are doing during this, I wouldn’t be surprised if they just have the girls do this. Especially with the whole Helaena and Alicent were beloved by smallfolk angle. I hope they do put the focus on Helaena bc I feel like whenever people talk about b&c, she ends up getting lost in the shuffle despite it literally being ‘her story’. They focus on who the father is 🙄, or some other angle that doesn’t highlight how much pain this caused Helaena. Very excited to see how phia (and Tom with aegon) play this

That tweet makes me laugh bc like 1. Out of all the people, why would anyone assume it was Alicent’s idea. She was gagged, tied up, and had to watch her grandson die and her daughter’s will to live break. She’s allowed to mourn. There’s nothing humiliating about an atrocity that’s been done TO THEM. Then 2. even if Alicent does end up being the one to wanted a public funeral, aren’t these the same people who said they’d like show Alicent more if she was like her book counterpart??? More cunning and ruthless 🤔🤔. Funny how they truly can’t stand when the narrative highlights team green in a positive/sympathetic way. Also this just proves how the women on team green despite clearly being less culpable and the bleeding hearts of the tg, get more hate than the team green men (and the men on the show as a whole) who actually do bad shit. Like they bypassed otto, the person who has been scheming since ep 1, and went straight for Alicent. It’s transparent

Plus… Rhaenys literally wore an identical mourning veil when laena died. And if I remember correctly, multiple women during laena’s funeral did. Was that dramatic too?? Or is that idea only for the big bad Alicent who can never do right lmao

[rogueonestan]

ch 1 - how it all began

pairing: joel miller x f!reader 

summary: the first time you met joel was anything but ordinary. reflecting back on that, you realize it was also the first time you both showed the sides of each other that you’ve grown to admire over the time you’ve spent together. 

word count: 6.8k

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The walls within the QZ are supposed to be where it's safest. It’s safe from being infected. It’s where people meet, where they fall in love, where they start families. It’s a place where you shouldn’t have to worry about a thing, but that couldn’t be further from the truth.

Where there’s law and order, there are also those who go against the law behind closed doors, and that’s how you got yourself in the current situation you’re in. 

You were supposed to meet a familiar contact of yours at three o’clock. ‘Exactly at three’ she had told you.

When it was only a few minutes passed three, you didn’t think much of it. You assumed something had come up and she was just running a little late, but when your watch told you an additional thirty minutes had passed, that’s when you began to worry- that’s when you began pacing around the room, thinking of the worst case scenario in your head. This contact of yours has been late in the past, sure, but never this late before.

When you hear the door click from behind you, relief immediately consumes your body. Your tense shoulders begin to unravel the knots within them, your heart rate fastly beating from pure stress begins to go back to its original pace (along with your breathing), but all of that goes down the drain as soon as you see the person who enters the door.

It’s a man. A very tall, muscular man that is definitely not who you were expecting to walk through that door. You’ve met this contact countless of times in this exact place every single time, in an abandoned building near the outskirts of town, where hardly any FEDRA officers can be found, where the more sketchy characters of town can be found. 

The sound of both of your weapons clicking is the only sound echoing within the walls of the dusty room. Both of your weapons now aimed at the other. Neither of you knew at that very moment just how wrong it would be to call the other their ‘enemy.’ 

The booming voice of the man standing in front of you catches your attention, along with the intimidating tone of his voice. “Put it down before you get hurt.” 

A soft chuckle bubbles in your throat. The appearance of the man in front of you would intimidate almost anyone- with the way his eyes have the look of intensity in the same way an animal watches their prey, how his stare is nearly sending daggers your way.

“That’s funny because I was about to say the same thing.” You rebuke.

“Who are you?” The man asks you as the bottom of his foot slams the door behind him without taking his eyes off of you. He slowly takes a few steps in your direction, in which you step a few steps behind you, trying to keep the distance between the two of you but it’s nearly impossible since every step backward you take, he takes two steps forward.

You tell him your name as you stop trying to move away. The man stops in his tracks as well. He couldn’t be more than three feet away from you. 

“Who are you?” You ask.

“I’m here to meet someone.” The man tells you.

“That’s a big coincidence because so am I.”

“I could shoot you.” He threatens. 

“Not before I put one in between your eyes.” You rebuttal. 

He takes the slightest step towards you, the gun in his hands now growing closer and closer to your face. You do the same thing. You take a step forward. Your finger on the trigger flexes, preparing yourself for almost anything at this point. 

When you had left your apartment an hour ago, you were hesitant to even bring a weapon with you since you hardly needed it at these meetings, but at this very moment, you mentally thank yourself for being on the cautionary side today. You don’t know what you would have done if you showed up today unprepared, especially when a weapon is drawn merely a foot away from you. 

Before either of you could make a decision you would both regret, the sound of the door slamming open catches both of your attention. Both of your guns slightly lower in response. The sight of the familiar contact of yours lets you finally let your guard down. Your finger releases its grip on your trigger as the pent-up stress within your whole body is finally released. You don’t think you’ve ever been so relieved to see someone before. 

The woman looks at the man and gives him a similar death stare look as he gave you earlier. The echoing of the door slamming behind her bounces off of the walls. Her hands are now placed on her hips as her voice bounces off of the walls. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?! She is the one we are supposed to meet! Put the gun down, Joel.”

The man glances between his (presumably) partner, back at you, then back at the woman. He eventually relents when he notices your gun is now standing idly by your side. His gun goes back into the holster that resides on his right hip, officially surrendering. 

“Where the hell were you, Tess?” You ask her.

She apologizes for being so late. “I was meeting with someone and it took me longer than I expected.”

“You should have told me.”

“There wasn’t time.” She says as she apologizes once again. 

“Is that why you sent your boyfriend instead?” You ask.

“We’re not together.” The man, Joel, quickly chimes in.

Tess goes on to explain why she needed you both here today- she says how the job is in an area within the state where you are more familiar with than she is (thanks to the long commute you endured after leaving a different QZ.) The place you have to go will only take a day or two to get there on foot, but it’s in a more rural area in the state, so going alone isn’t an option. Tess explains the importance of it because of how rare the item you would be smuggling would be. How she trusts the both of you with something as important as this. 

“I need you to go with her.” Tess says as she glances in Joel’s direction. Her head slightly tilts to the side, silently pleading for him to go. 

The look he gives her in return is one that questions what Tess just asked of him. His lips part at her question. “No way in hell am I going anywhere alone with her.”

Almost immediately, you chime in and agree with the man you met just a few minutes ago. “I’m not going anywhere with him.”

“Why do I have to go?” Joel asks.

“You know how important this is, Joel. She knows the area better than I do and if either of you goes out there alone, you will die. You both need to go.”

“Tess, no.” Joel insists.

“It will be just this one time. After that, you won’t have to see each other ever again.” Tess promises him.

Eventually, you both agree. Joel’s gaze temporarily departs looking at Tess to quickly glance at you. His hands instinctively place themselves on his hips, his head now bowed.

“Just this one time?” He asks.

“Just this once.” Tess promises.

A mumbled ‘fine’ leaves his lips in response. Tess’s head turns in your direction, waiting for your answer, to which you nod your head and agree in silence. “When do we leave?”

“Tomorrow night. Usual spot, usual time.” Tess tells you both, leaving you alone in the room together once again when she closes the door behind her.

When Joel glances in your direction, he tells himself ‘one job.’ One job and this’ll all be over. Just a few days and this will all be over.

Unbeknownst to either of you, this job would be the first of many you would complete together- it was only the beginning (a very rough beginning) of a relationship that would blossom over the next two years. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Traveling with Joel has been… pretty uneventful. The first two to three hours were mainly filled with silence, silence was mainly broken by the sounds of the local ambiance or something you would ask Joel, where he would hardly speak in return. You asked him where he’s from (where he only told you ‘Texas’), how long he has known Tess (‘a few years’), how they met (‘our paths crossed.’)

When you asked him how often he left the borders of the QZ, the only resemblance of an answer you got was a sigh. He glanced in your direction with a sign of irritation etched on his features, from the way his eyes narrowed at you, to the vein swelling in his forehead, to his head tilting slightly to the side.

You were definitely the most irritating and aggravating person he has met in ages. How Tess has managed to deal with you for more than a few hours at a time is beyond him. The only thing Joel is looking forward to is the thought of being as far away from you as soon as possible.

“Do you always talk this much?” Joel asks you as any resemblance of a question dies on your lips. 

“I’m afraid so.” You tell him with a small smile appearing on your face. “But you still haven’t answered my question.”

“Because I’m ignoring you.”

“Are you always this big of a dick to everyone you meet?” You ask.

“Only to those I don’t like.” He quips.

When a few mumbled words trail underneath your breath, getting lost in the wind as a particularly harsh breeze ripples through the air, Joel asks you to repeat yourself since he couldn’t make out a single word you just said. 

“If we’re going to be working together, wouldn't it be best if we trusted each other?”

“No.” The one-worded answer of his was enough to stop you in your tracks. The low rumble of his voice was enough for you to want to crawl underneath your skin and avoid this conversation, but the words that continue to leave Joel’s lips only make you wish you hadn’t said anything.

“I don’t care how much Tess trusts you, I don’t trust you. You aren’t the first person I have met through her and you certainly won’t be the last. A lot of the people she meets come and go, so I don’t expect things to be different with you.”

He takes in a deep breath as he continues. “We don’t have to get to know each other. Hell, I don’t want to get to know you. I am here only because I have to be and we have a job to do. After today, we won’t have to see each other ever again, so let’s just keep it at that.”

You don’t say anything at first, only looking down at your shoes as if they’re the most interesting thing in the entire world. Your breath hitches in your throat as you reflect on his words. You didn’t really expect anything to happen between the two of you after you spent a few days together, perhaps some friendly conversation for the time to pass by, but nothing beyond that. How wrong you were. 

“Do you understand?” The harshness of Joel’s voice never disappears for a single moment as he forces you to look him in the eye by the sound of his voice. 

“And to think I thought you couldn’t be any more of an asshole than you were before.” You manage to respond back. The constricting feeling in your throat felt near impossible to even breathe, let alone words to pass through your vocal cords.

“Are we clear?” Joel emphasizes. The sound of his voice echoing off of the nearby trees was enough for you to wish you were anywhere but here. A few birds nearby fly away, purely a coincidence, but you like to think they were trying to get as far away from this conversation as possible. 

When you don’t answer right away, Joel raises an eyebrow at you, awaiting your answer. You swallow the lump in your throat and force the answer from your mouth. “Very.” 

Joel simply continues his glare at you and continues walking in the direction you’re headed. It takes you a few moments for you to collect yourself as you try to steady your heartbeat. The deep breath that eventually leaves your lips gives you the strength you need to force one foot in front of the other as you quickly catch up with Joel. Silence lingers in the air for the first time since your travels with Joel began.

You’re not even sure why Joel’s words affected you as much as they did. You’ve only been traveling with him for a handful of hours at this point. His harsh words continue to repeat in your head over and over again. He’s only here to complete the job, that is it. Nothing more, nothing less than that.

When you initially agreed to this job, you expected nothing to come of it. You’ve done jobs like this in the past: paired up with someone you hardly know, then the next time you see them is at random times when you’re in town, but this time, it feels different. 

There was this nagging feeling that told you to make the most of his company. Maybe it was the constant feeling of loneliness that’s been your friend for years now, or the desire for a simple connection with another person grew stronger by the day. Whatever the reason may be, you couldn’t shake the feeling that whatever this relationship with Joel is, it wouldn’t end as soon as you returned to the QZ. 

That was why you kept pushing him. You had a feeling as soon as you stepped foot out of the QZ, Joel only wanted to get this job done and return back to Tess, but that nagging feeling in the back of your mind never stopped. So, you did whatever you could to subdue that tiny little voice, but ultimately, it left things strained with Joel. You hadn’t dared to speak another word since his harsh words were spoken. 

The silence was only broken after an hour when Joel glanced in your direction and asked you a question. 

“How do you know Tess?” He had asked you. 

“I thought you didn’t want to get to know each other, to ‘get the job done.’” You rebuttal, using the exact words he had said to you earlier.

“How do you know her?” He repeats.

“Through a mutual contact.” You begin. The sun beaming in your eyes is blinding for a moment but a nearby tree grants you sanctuary from it for a few seconds. “I needed something, Tess had it and gave it to me in exchange for something I was in possession of. The rest is history, I guess.”

“Why does she trust you?” Joel asks you as his body now facing towards yours, stopping. His attention is now fully on you. You stop in your tracks as well. 

“Isn’t that something you should be asking her?” You ask.

“I’m asking you.”

“We were meeting up with a potential client.” You begin. “Neither of us had heard anything of this person before, so Tess asked me to tag along. She didn’t trust me that much at that point, but she trusted me more than the guy we were supposed to meet. Things went bad, someone tried to shoot her, I shoved her out of the way and got grazed instead. I saved her that day, so I’m guessing that’s why she trusts me.”

As soon as you finish recollecting the story, you pull down the collar of your shirt and show the area where you nearly got hit by a bullet that resides just below your collarbone. The small white streak permanently resides on your skin for months now. 

“That was you?” The words that fall from Joel’s lips are no louder than a few octaves above a gentle whisper. If you were focused on listening to the nearby chirps and squeaks coming from the local wildlife, you wouldn't have been able to hear him. 

“Sorry?” You ask. 

Joel goes on to explain one night he spent with Tess in great detail- how Tess returned home late one night, well before curfew, and saw the injuries she got earlier in the day. He had asked her what happened and the only thing she told Joel was that there was an ambush, but a new friend saved her.

A new friend.

That happened a few months ago. You had assumed Tess saw you only as someone for jobs, an acquaintance at most and nothing resembling a friendship. Hearing his words causes a warm feeling to flow throughout your stomach. 

“It was you.” Joel concludes, his words no louder than last time. “You were the one that  saved her that day.”

“Not before she saved me. It was the least I could do.” You shrug off, not thinking much of your actions from that day. 

In response, Joel reaches his hand towards yours. The action surprised you at first. You expected Joel to just drop the subject altogether, to continue walking and act as if nothing had happened, not to do what he did- it was a silent way of saying thanks for saving someone he cares deeply for. He and Tess may not be romantically involved anymore, but he still cares for her. If he ever lost her in any way, he’s sure he would never be the same again. 

During that moment, there was a shift in the air. There wasn’t any hostility between the two of you anymore. There weren't glares being sent your way when you looked at Joel out of the corner of your eye. 

A mutual understanding. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

A few hours had passed when Joel suggested you should begin looking for a place to rest for the night. The sun was beginning to set as the sky was now filled with beautiful colors of reds and oranges. 

The sight of the sky above you took your breath away. The combination of the beautiful sky and

how the sunset reflects off of the nearby trees found in the forest looked like it came straight out of a painting of how breathtaking the view is. 

It wasn’t often you left the walls of the QZ. The only time you did was when you had a job that went beyond the walls of the QZ. It’s probably been a solid year since you left Boston, so you try to soak in as much as you can of the outside world. Life in the QZ is safe and familiar, but it can never beat the feeling of being free from the surveillance of FEDRA.

The cars that are scattered on the side of the road are a reminder of what life was like before the outbreak began- how people were able to travel freely without any problems, how they could stay in a nearby forest to get away from everything for a little bit. Now, it’s forbidden. Now, you could be killed by FEDRA officers if they ever found out you left the walls of the QZ.

There weren’t any buildings around when Joel had suggested you find somewhere to rest for the night. The only thing that could be found were the several cars that you’ve walked passed by. Joel had told you the seclusion of the forest would be a good cover to avoid being detected by anyone else who may be in the area.

The impromptu camp you and Joel made wasn’t glamorous in any way. The only source of light that surrounds you that can be found when the sun goes down is the lantern that you had attached to your pack. It was the only thing that kept you somewhat warm, besides from the extra jacket you had inside your bag. The only food you were able to bring with you were the granola bars that you had in your pantry back in your apartment. 

You asked Joel why you couldn’t start a fire once he told you the lantern you packed would ‘do just fine.’ The only thing he told you was that it wasn’t necessary. ‘Too much of a risk to be seen by others,’ is what he told you. You’re in a safe, secluded area but that doesn’t mean that it’s just the two of you out here. Cities are miles apart from each other, but that doesn’t mean you’re safe from other people, or even worse, Infected.

When you were beginning to settle down for the night, you had asked Joel how safe it was out here. You only left the QZ a few times when Joel, on the other hand, came out here more often in a landslide. He reassured you you would be safe out here and no one would find you, but he also warned you to keep an eye out for anything suspicious, just in case.

The uncomfortable feeling of using your backpack as a pillow is a reminder of what it was like during the early days of the outbreak. The feeling of a stiff neck in the morning, the feeling of not being quite rested enough, not knowing what time it is when you wake up, all hit you like a truck when you wake up by the local birds chirping when you wake up the following morning. 

The feeling of something kicking you on the bottom of your foot is what gives you the motivation to finally open your eyes and take in your surroundings. The sun beams in your eyes. The feeling of the cool breeze in the early hours of the morning strikes your face. The nearby birds chirp. The sight of Joel hovering over you blocks the sunshine from beaming into your eyes, and it takes you a few seconds to blink the black dots away.

“Come on, get up. We have to get going. Lots of land to cover.” Joel tells you.

His words enter one ear and come out the other. The only thing you want to do at this very moment is to shove your face into your makeshift pillow of yours and get another hour of sleep, but the kick to your leg prevents you from doing so.

“It’s too early.” You mumble as you shove your face into your pillow. The feeling of sleep was still heavy on your mind and it takes everything with you not to cave into the call of sleep.

“Up.” He orders.

“Five more minutes.”

Another nudge to your foot rips your face from your pillow and brings your attention to the man standing in front of you once again.

“Get up. I’m not asking you again.” Joel tells you.

A sigh of defeat leaves your lips once you realize you’ve lost this argument. The sooner you get up, the sooner you can be in the comfortable feeling of your bed back in your apartment. 

So, you force yourself to get up from the ground, but the sight of one of Joel’s hands surprises you. You expected him to just grab his things and begin walking in the direction where you’re headed, but the sight of his hand being offered to you catches you off guard. 

It's only a few inches above you, so placing one hand on the grass next to you was enough leverage yourself off of the ground to accept his offer. The feeling of his hand spoke volumes of his character. The palm of his hand was rough, littered with scratches and rough edges that can only be found on someone who works with their hands daily. When he’s not outside of the QZ, he completes menial tasks in order to support himself.

This was the first time you held Joel’s hand. You hadn’t thought anything of it at the moment, simply thinking it was his way of helping you when he didn’t completely trust you yet, but the contrast of his rough skin against the smooth skin on the palm of your hand was something you looked forward to in the future when you would spend time together. 

You gladly accept his hand as he guides you in the direction of where you need to be by nightfall. The soft squeeze you give his hand before letting go was your way of telling him ‘thanks.’ You know physical contact or trusting another person probably doesn’t come easy for Joel, so you don't question it when he gives you the smallest sign that he somewhat trusts you. 

You were so focused on the way his skin felt against yours, mainly because it was the most physical contact you’ve felt in months, that you paid little attention to the light rustling in the distance. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

The next twenty minutes of your walk were filled with silence. Like the previous day, the only thing that can be heard is the local ambiance. The birds chirping in the early hours of the morning was something you missed dearly since you began living in the Boston QZ. There were no quiet mornings there, only loud commotions coming from your neighbors, along with the sound of FEDRA officers beginning to make their rounds at eight o’clock in the morning. 

Peaceful mornings don’t exist there. There are no soft moments between lovers, no soft chirps coming from the nearby birds. Listening to the local ambiance in the early morning was something that always brought you joy. You didn’t realize just how much you have missed it over the years. 

A rustling coming from behind you makes you stop dead in your tracks. At first, you thought it was a creature of some kind, maybe a bunny hiding from a nearby predator, but you swear you hear whispering of some kind. You’re about to call out to Joel, to tell him what you thought you heard, but as soon as you open your mouth to do so, Joel notices you aren’t right by his side and calls out for you.

“What is it this time?” He asks you, the sound of his voice sounding more irritated than anything else. When he finds you a few feet behind him, looking at what seems to be a normal bush, a heavy sigh leaves his lips. You’re both on a strict time schedule and don’t have any time to lose- you’ll probably make it there just in time if you hurry.

“Nothing.” You try to brush off the feeling deep in the pit of your stomach that tells you something is wrong. You shake your head and try to ignore any thoughts that told you something bad was about to happen. You look at Joel as you continue. “Sorry. I just- I thought I heard something.” 

“It was probably some animal. Let’s keep moving. We only have a few hours until we have to be there.” He motions his head for you to follow him so that you don’t lose any more time. 

You begin to take a step forward so that you can be by Joel’s side once again (and so he can keep a closer eye on you), but as soon as you take a step, gunshots echo in the air. The local birds screech loudly, quickly flapping their wings to get as far away from the loud noise as quickly as possible. You glance in the direction where you heard the rustling sound earlier and you catch the slightest glimpse of a man pointing a gun at you.

However, before the man could take another shot at you for the second time, the feeling of an arm wrapping themselves around your waist grabs your attention. Your first instinct was to squirm in the person’s grasp since you thought it was one of the people shooting at you, but the sound of Joel’s voice lets you stop squirming in his grasp.

“Move!” He barks at you. 

Joel tightens his grasp on you, your body now being pressed directly against his, as he uses his bigger frame as a human shield so that you can be free from harm until you find cover. Luckily, it only takes a matter of seconds before you seek refuge behind a nearby car. As soon as he knows you’re both safe for the time being, Joel releases his grasp on you. 

“Are you hurt?” He asks you as he scans your body for any possible injuries you may have gotten.

You shake your head as the sound of gunshots continue to fire and bounce off of the car you’re currently hiding behind. “No, I’m fine.”

“Stay here. Don’t move unless I say so, alright?”

“Okay.” You agree. You know it would probably be for the best to not argue with him right now, especially when both of your lives are at stake. So, you agree without question.

Bullets continue to ricochet off of the car. The voices of two men coming from in the distance can barely be heard thanks to the loud gunfire. If you weren’t so used to the nearly constant sounds of guns going off over the years, your ears would feel like they’re bleeding at this point. The only thing that keeps you company at this very moment is the high-pitched ringing in your ears. 

Joel’s gun is quickly in his grasp, cocked and ready to fire as soon as he made sure you were okay. He waits for the moment shots are no longer being fired in your direction so that he can get a good look as to where the shooting is coming from. He quickly peaks around the corner of the car to see if he can find anything, to no avail. 

“How many are there?” You ask as soon as he seeks refuge behind the car once again.

“I’m not sure.” He admits.

Your knees are pressed on the hard concrete floor beneath you as a way to shield yourself further from getting in the middle of any crossfire. When you duck your head in the direction of the bottom of the car, looking through the limited amount of space gives you just a big enough gap to see directly in front of you. 

You can't see much, mainly just trees and grass, but as soon as the shooting begins once again, you’re able to take notice of the two shooters on your left thanks to their two distinct pairs of shoes. Only a few moments later, another shooter to your right, and in front of Joel, appears and also starts shooting.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?!” Joel shouts at you, but you can barely make out his words with the loud commotion surrounding you. 

“There’s three of them in total. Two of them on my left and one on the right- there and there.” You answer, first pointing to the shooters on the left, then at the one that stands in Joel’s direction. 

When Joel peaks his head to get a better look, he finds that you’re right. The man that shoots directly in front of him is the first one to go down when Joel shoots at him. 

“I can help, you know.” You suggest as you begin to reach for the gun in your holster but Joel’s words halt your actions.

“No.” He firmly tells you. “I’m responsible for you and your safety. Stay there.”

In response to one of their men going down, the other remaining shooters make their presence known. Some kind of threat falls from their lips, saying how they’ll kill you and Joel for killing their friend, but seconds after they revealed themselves, they were quickly taken out. It was then the shooting ceased. 

When nothing could be heard during the next few seconds, it was then when Joel made his way out in the open, ensuring there wasn’t anybody else who could be a possible threat. When no further shots are made, Joel walks in the direction of where the shooters were. Before he does, though, his hand gestures for you to stay where you are while he investigates, just in case.

You stay where you are as Joel continues to head in the direction of the now-dead bodies. He had to make sure you were completely safe. He couldn’t risk anything happening to you, if he did, then he knows he’s failed Tess.

That’s all that matters, he tells himself. The job. 

He should’ve heard them coming. He shouldn’t have to depend on a near stranger to keep an open eye out for any possible danger. That was his job. The whole point Tess had sent him on this job with you was because she trusted him to protect you going from and to the secluded area where the job is. That was the whole point for sending him and he nearly failed at that. He shouldn’t have to depend on you.

When he reaches the two of the men, a heavy sigh leaves his lips as soon as he realizes who they are. The men don’t have much on them, just their packs and the weapons that now lay by their sides. 

As soon as the coast is clear, the call of your name and a whistle that follows tells you that it is now safe for you to come out in the open. That’s when you begin to walk in Joel’s direction. 

“Who are they?” You ask Joel as you look at the now-deceased corpses on the ground in front of you. 

“Raiders, probably.” He answers as he glances in your direction before continuing. “They stay hidden out here in the open so that they can find people wandering out here. They kill them, strip them of their belongings before they move on.”

“How do you know that?”

He hesitates before answering. “From experience.”

“Was that before or after you met Tess?” You ask.

Tess hardly told you anything unless it was absolutely necessary. You hardly know anything about her past, or any personal details about her. She told you to keep your relationship strictly professional, just had Joel told you earlier in your travels. 

“I-it doesn’t matter, we need to keep moving. Keep an eye out for anyone else.” He advises as he begins to continue heading in the direction you need to be by nightfall. 

Joel only takes a few steps forward when he realizes you aren’t following him, only continuing to stare at the men who tried to kill you just minutes ago. 

“Come on.” He encourages you as he motions for you to follow him. And you do, but not before you get the state map that resides in the outside pocket of your pack. 

You only brought it in case of an emergency. You’ve become familiar with this area over the years from going to QZ to QZ, but none of them really stuck with you. It wasn’t until Boston that you stayed somewhere for more than a year or so at a time.

You know you’ll need some additional help as soon as you and Joel begin to head to the more rural areas of the state, where there would be no signs of civilization, only the forested area and maybe spot some wildlife in the process. 

A few minutes of silence linger in the air. That is, until you feel Joel’s eyes on you. You half expected him to just look anywhere but your direction, but the question he asks you catches you off guard. 

“How do you know this area so well?” He asks you. 

“I used to camp out here a lot as a kid during the summers.” You answer.

A soft hum leaves his lips in response, expecting you to say nothing else on the subject, but you continue. 

“I used to hate it as a kid. The only thing I wanted to do then was to have a three lazy months where I did nothing but hang out with my friends, but my parents always dragged us out here for a week or two every summer. It became a tradition of sorts. I hated it so much, but I would give up anything now just to experience something like that again.” You admit.

“‘Us’?” Joel asks.

“Oh yeah, me and my sister. We would beg our parents to not force us to go, but they would never listen. They would always insist on the importance it is to get away every once in and while, and to live in the moment. That's why they brought us out here, to get away from everything.”

You go on to explain how it did just that, how being out in the wilderness made you feel alive, how normal and at home you felt out here and how that’s something you haven't felt since the outbreak began. Those moments spent with your family as a kid and young teen didn’t seem like much at the time, but now it means everything to you. You hold onto those moments that you can remember and hope you can feel like that again someday. 

Those memories remind you of a simpler time. A time when you didn’t have to keep an eye over your shoulder for any impending danger, where your main concern was just to survive. 

And you tell Joel all of this. You’re not exactly sure why you do. You haven’t told anyone such intimate details of your past before, especially not someone you met only two days ago, but something tells you it’s okay to tell him all of this. Maybe because he just saved your life minutes ago.

Memory after memory of life with your family falls from your lips. Half of the things you’re telling Joel you don’t even remember telling him, the words you’re telling him fall from your lips faster than your brain can process it. While you’re saying all of this, Joel’s attention is solely on you. You pay no attention to the way he’s looking at you and continue.

During the beginning of your travels together, Joel found your nonstop talking to be absolutely infuriating. The only thing he wanted to do was to get the job done and that’s all, but there was something different about you. The first thing he was curious about was why his partner, Tess, had trusted you in the first place, learning why made him even more intrigued by you. What made him really curious, though, was the way you talked about your family. 

It reminded Joel how close he was with his own family before the outbreak- how he would spend his mornings and late evenings with his daughter, and the afternoons with his brother. He lost any resemblance to a family when his brother joined the Fireflies a few years back, not that he would admit that to you, not yet.

And that’s the main difference between you and Joel. You’re able to open up and be vulnerable with someone you just met while it takes Joel a long time for him to admit anything like what you just told him. It took him at least two years to be that vulnerable with Tess.

Joel knows this will probably be the last time he'll be around you in this way. The only other time he will probably see you is on the streets in Boston, where you both will vaguely acknowledge the other, but nothing beyond that.

That doesn’t stop him from being enticed by you. By the way you’re able to recollect memories as if you have been friends for a long time fascinates Joel. He’s never been able to be like that with another person, long before the outbreak even began.

There's something about you that reminds Joel of someone he used to know, but he can’t quite put his finger on it. It was almost hypnotizing to listen to the sound of your voice as you talked about whatever came to your mind.

Little did he know, the way you are able to recollect such vivid memories would be the first thing he would admire about you, eventually fall in love with, during your future together once this job was over. Joel only expected to see you just this once. He never expected to have any sort of feelings towards you, especially one of such intrigue.

The next time you both would share a moment with the other would be the night Joel fully trusts you after you save his life. 

[strandnreyes]

long one this week since it’s been awhile since I’ve done this!

Carlos pulls out a book after he gets out of the shower.

He sits on the couch, not taking up more than one cushion, and TK doesn’t know if it’s supposed to be an invitation. It hardly feels like it when Carlos hasn’t looked at him since they were both standing in the bedroom.

TK decides it’s best to stay put in the kitchen, though it’s generous to call them separate rooms in the first place, and desperately searches for something to occupy himself with now that it’s been established that they’re staying.

He’s already cleaned the dishes from his sad bowl of cereal and sat them in the drying rack next to the ones Carlos must have used before TK woke up. They could stay there, but TK has to find some way to pass the time so he dries them with a towel he finds in one of the drawers. The chore is over way too quickly and then his gaze is drawn back to Carlos against his will.

He watches as Carlos’ finger runs down the side of the page he’s reading, and then turns it without breaking his stride. A drop of water falls from his still wet hair and runs down the back of his neck before disappearing into his flannel shirt.

It’s one TK doesn’t recognize, a detail that seems innocuous enough if it weren’t for TK’s traitorous brain reminding him that every shirt of Carlos’ used to be hung next to his own.

Carlos flips another page and TK turns around.

His non-perishables are still sitting on the table from where he dropped them last night, minus the box of cereal, and though there’s no reason to put them in the cupboard when they should only be here for a couple of days, he needs something to do with his hands.

TK is pretty sure the reusable grocery bag they’re in is one that used to be Carlos’. Or maybe it was both of theirs, one of those things that they got when they were living together and it didn’t matter if it was his or Carlos’ because it was theirs. They took it to the charred remains of the 126 and the group hangs that happened at Paul’s place and Saturday afternoons in the park when they just wanted a meal together that didn’t have the threat of an interruption from Owen or Mateo.

TK doesn’t know if Carlos forgot about the bag when he showed up to Owen’s while TK was on shift to pack his things, or if he purposely left it behind.

He empties it quickly, shoving his few items into the first empty cupboard he could find. It’s not much, he wasn’t intending on being here for more than a weekend, and if the snow doesn’t let up before then they’re going to have bigger problems than awkwardly dancing around each other.

In the background, a page turns. And then another and another and another and the sound grates on TK’s nerves. He doesn’t know how Carlos can concentrate when he’s barely keeping it together just from being in the same room together for the first time in months.

And then it’s not just the pages stealing TK’s attention. It’s the way he shifts on the couch and the occasional tap of his finger along the spine of the book and the crackle of the fire that feels way too intimate and TK needs out.

“I’m going to get some firewood,” he says out of the blue, causing Carlos to slowly turn toward him.

He doesn’t say anything for a second, looking back to the pile already stacked next to the gentle roar of the flames. It’s not that empty, but there’s enough gone for TK’s excuse to not be transparent.

“Do you need help?” Carlos asks.

TK waves him off, pulling his coat on and after a glance out the window at the snow still rapidly falling, zipping it up even further. “No,” he says. “I don’t wanna bug you.”

He doesn’t realize he’s waiting for a second offer to come until he’s got his boots shoved onto his feet and all that Carlos had said was a simple, ‘okay’.

TK resists the urge to take it back and accept the help after he thinks for another minute about what collecting firewood in a snowstorm actually entails, but he’s already committed to it at this point.

“You should wear gloves,” Carlos speaks up just as he’s about to step out.

“Oh,” he says in surprise, looking down at his hands. “I’ll be fine.”

Carlos raises a brow and for a second TK is transported right back to when that look was accompanied by a teasing smile. Now it’s only a fraction of what it once was and Carlos is hardly looking at him as he says, “You forgot to bring some, didn’t you?”

Carlos doesn’t give him a chance to respond, dropping his book on the couch next to him and reaching for his bag that was neatly pushed to the side instead. It doesn’t take him long to find a pair, passing them over.

It takes TK a moment to react before he takes a few steps forward and grabs them from Carlos, careful to keep their fingers from brushing. “Thanks,” he says.

Carlos wasn’t wrong, he did forget.

“Sure,” Carlos says quietly, looking away before TK pulls them onto his hands. And then he picks up his book again like the exchange never happened.

[dialovers-translations]

Diabolik Lovers LOST EDEN ー Yuma Maniac [Prologue]

ー The scene starts in the entrance hall at Eden

Kou: Nn~...

Azusa: Kou, relax...

Kou: ...I know but they’re just taking so long. 

Azusa: Are you talking about Yuma and Eve...?

Kou: Exactly! Quite some time has passed since they both left for the human world together, but it doesn’t seem like they’ll return any time soon.

They haven’t contacted us either...Could something have happened? I’m worried given the current circumstances. 

Azusa: I feel the same way...but...

ー Ruki walks up to them

Ruki: Kou, Azusa. I got in touch with Yuma.

Kou: Really!? Thank god! So, are both of them okay?

Ruki: They met with the guy in question ーー with Kino, but neither of them are harmed it seems. It’s just...

‘We failed to convince Sakamaki Shuu’, they wrote.

Azusa: I see...I guess not even those two could pull it off.

Kou: If they couldn’t convince him, I guess we’re all out of options? What now, Ruki-kun? 

Azusa: Eden will be in trouble at this rate, right? That goes for us as well...

Ruki: Don’t panic. At this point, we have no other choice but to take matters into our own hands. 

We shouldn’t forget that we are just as much Karlheinz-sama’s sons.

We were born through his powers. We should be proud of that, and do whatever we are capable of. 

Let’s focus on strenghtening the Castle’s security first. We aren’t as foolish as to let other people steal this place while we simply sit and watch.

Kou: ...Good idea. There’s plenty we can do too. Let’s go, Azusa-kun!

Azusa: Yeah...

ー Kou and Azusa walk away

Ruki: ...As if I’d let this precious place be stolen by some guy we know nearly nothing about. 

ー The scene shifts to the entrance hall of the Mukami manor

Monologue

We were shaken up by the sudden ringing of the doorbell. 

When we cautiously opened the door,

there was an unfamiliar young man ーー standing on the other side.

???: What’s up? Long time no see. 

Yui: ( ‘Long time no see’? ...Which means. )

He’s a friend of yours, Yuma-kun...?

Yuma: ...I don’t know this dude.

I can tell by yer scent. You’re neither human nor Vampire, aren’t ya? ...Where did ya come from?

???: How cold. Did you forget all about me? 

Yuma: Didn’t I just say that I don’t know ya!? Ya better give me an answer soon or you’ll get a taste of my fists! Pull down yer hood and show me yer damn face!

???: Fine, fine. Geez, you’re still quick to pick fights, aren’t you ーー Bear? 

Yuma: !?

Yui: ( Bear? )

Yuma: How do ya know that name...?

???: Why, you ask? Isn’t that obvious? I’m the one who gave you that nickname after all.

Yuma: You’ve gotta be shittin’ me...! Boss, is that ya!?

Yui: ( Eh...!? Boss? Could this be the person who took care of Yuma-kun when he was still a human? )

( But he should have long passed away... )

Lucks: Boss, huh? It’s been a while since I’ve heard that name. ...I’m glad to see you’re doing well, Bear.

Yuma: For real!? It’s actually ya!? I can’t believe this...!

Lucks: I can hardly blame you. I mean...considering how we bid farewell back then.

Yuma: Right! Back then, yaーー ...

Lucks: Right. Back then, I was killed by the state army alongside my comrades. ...Right in front of your eyes.

Yuma: Ya were...Which means...

Lucks: Are you doubting that I might be a fraud? I mean, I thought so at first as well. 

But as you can see, I’m still alive. That’s the truth.

I guess the best way to convince you would be by telling you everything which happened since then...What do you say?

Yuma: ...Tell me. I want to properly know what happened to ya guys afterwards.

Lucks: Okay. ...The young lady over there seems awfully curious as well.

Yui: ( ...! Ah, m-me? )

Yuma: Ahー ...My bad, Yui. I promise I’ll explain everythin’.

Yui: S-Sure. Uhm...Why don’t you come in for now? I’ll go set some tea, okay?

ー Yui walks away

Lucks: ...

Yuma: ...What?

Lucks: ...I didn’t think you, out of all people, would land himself a girlfriend.

Yuma: S-Shut the fuck up! Come on in already!

*TIMESKIP*

ー The scene shifts to the living room

Yuma: ーー A Ghoul...!?

Lucks: Yes, exactly.

I most definitely died back then after being shot by the army. You were there to witness that as well, remember?

Yuma: ...Yeah. But that’s exactly why I can’t buy it.

That yer body was picked up by some Ghouls and brought to the Demon World. 

And that you’re actually a Ghoul yerself right now...I mean, it would explain why you’re still alive right now.

Lucks: I’m not the only one who was brought to the Demon World. Owen, Jan, Victor...Everyone who was present there on that day.

That being said, I heard that most of them ended up six feet under. 

Only very few people were revived as Ghouls like I was. 

I’m not quite sure...what determines whether or not you could become a Ghoul but, I guess I was just lucky?

Yuma: ...A Ghoul...

Yui: ( Yuma-kun’s shaken up. Of course he is. ...However. )

( Now that I think about it, Kino-kun mentioned something similar. That there’s cases of people turning into Ghouls as a result of exposure to the Demon World’s polluted air. )

Excuse me...Lucks-san?

Lucks: Hm? 

Yui: Why did the Ghouls take you and your friends to the Demon World?

Lucks: I guess they were trying to strengthen their own numbers? I’m sure they were only so few of them already running around in the Demon World. 

I don’t know the details either. After all, I’m still a ‘rookie’ myself, you could say.

I’ve been scraping by, fortunate enough to have a few reliable people helping me out.

Yuma: ...I see. 

Haah...Now that we’ve talked, I no longer doubt who ya are but I never thought my old pal would be in the boat as me.

Lucks: I was shocked as well when I heard that you became a Vampire and were still alive to this day.

But I felt happy at the same time, realizing that we’d get to meet again.

Yuma: ...Likewise. I’ve missed ya this whole time, Boss.

Lucks: Oi, enough with the ‘Boss’. I’m just a regular guy now. ‘Lucks’ is fine. 

Besides, right now you’re above me in the hierarchy, aren’t you? I’m a Ghoul and you’re a Vampire after all.

Yuma: That shit doesn’t matter. Ya really think I’d discriminate based on status? 

Lucks: I don’t. ...You haven’t changed in that regard either, huh? I’m glad.

I mean, that’s exactly why I wanted to bring this up to you. 

Yui: ( ...? I wonder why? He suddenly looks a lot more serious. )

Lucks: Bear ーー Or Yuma, I guess. Yuma, I’m begging you. Would you please help Kino out?

Yuma: !? 

Yui: ( Kino...So those two are connected!? )

Yuma: Oi, what are ya talkin’ ‘bout? Why are ya makin’ it sound like he’s yer pal!?

Lucks: Because he actually is. I’m a member of his resistance squad after all. 

Yui: Resistance...?

Lucks: Exactly. We’re called ‘Raven’. Kino is our leader. 

Yuma: So that bastard the one who sent ya here, huh!?

Do ya have any idea!? That guy’s a nutcase tryin’ to steal the powers from the Vampire King, ya know!?

And you’re here sayin’...You’re takin’ orders from that guy!? 

Lucks: Hold up. Listen to the whole story. Geez...You really haven’t changed in that regard either, have you?

Listen, Yuma. Did you ask Kino why he wants those powers so badly?

Yuma: Hell nah. I’m not interested either.

Lucks: ...I guess Kino didn’t tell you. 

Fine. Let me put it another way then. Yuma, come with me to Rotigenberg. 

Yuma: Haah!? 

Yui: Rotigenberg is the area where the Ghouls live...?

Lucks: Exactly. I doubt you will ever agree to my offer without knowing why I’m asking you this question. 

Please listen to Kino’s standpoint first.

Yuma: ...Sorry, but I can’t do that. I can’t help ya out with this one either.

Rotigenberg is up in the very North of the Demon World, right?

I’m not goin’ that far. I’ve got a lot of complicated shit goin’ on right now as well. 

Lucks: I’ve heard about the situation at Eden. It’s falling apart after changing owners and it’s at risk of being attacked and taken over, isn’t it?

But if you want to protect that Castle, then you have even more reason to come with me.

I’m sure that deep down, you realize that this isn’t an issue you guys can fix by yourselves?

That’s why you went to rely on the Vampire King. Correct?

Yuma: Ugh...

Lucks: Hey, Yuma. Please don’t misunderstand me. 

I did ask you to help Kino out, but I don’t plan to force you. The final decision is still up to you.

I just want you to hear him out. I do think it’s worth the shot, but what do you think? 

Yuma: ...

Yui: Yuma-kun...

Yuma: ...Yui. What do ya think?

Yui: I...

( To be honest, I don’t have the faintest clue as to why Kino-kun could be trying to steal Karlheinz-san’s powers. )

( But we can no longer count on Shuu-san’s cooperation to help keep Eden safe. )

( In which case... )

...I don’t see any harm in listening to what he has to say.

We want to protect Eden. But just like Lucks-san said, this isn’t an issue we can fix all by ourselves, is it?

Yuma: ...Yeah.

Yui: Which is why I think it’s worth hearing him out since it might help give us a way to accomplish our goal.

Yuma: ...Ya trust that Kino bastard? 

Yui: I trust Lucks-san, rather than Kino-kun...I guess?

He’s the same person who saved you, right? So he shouldn’t have any malicious intentions. 

Yuma: ...

...I guess it’s true that we don’t really have a way to fix Eden right now.

Fine. You’ve got yerself a deal.

Lucks: I’m happy to hear that but are you sure?

Yuma: I don’t know what Ruki will do. But with the Vampire King being as is, it’s only a matter of time until our clan is fucked. 

In which case, I follow Yui’s reasonin’ in that it’s worth the shot. 

Lucks: I see...Thanks. ...Haha.

Yuma: What?

Lucks: No, I was just thinking you’ve softened up quite a bit. In the past, you would have never asked someone else for their opinion.

Yuma: Don’t be talkin’ shit ‘bout me. I took yer advice, didn’t I?

Lucks: Besides me, I mean. I guess you are the person you are today...Thanks to her? 

Yuma: Not entirely...Well, I guess she was the biggest influence.

Now’s not the time to take a trip down memorylane. Now that we’re all on the same page, let’s get goin’ already. ーー To Rotigenberg. 

*TIMESKIP*

ー The scene shifts to the open fields at Rotigenberg

Yui: ( ーー So this is Rotigenberg. )

( How should I put it...It’s ‘impressive’ in more than one way. )

Yuma: ...This place stinks. 

Yui: It’s your first time here as well? 

Yuma: Yeah. I’ve only heard rumors about it. If I knew it reeked of shit, I might not have agreed so easily. 

Lucks: Kind of rude, don’t you think? I mean, I guess everyone reacts like that at first. This area has been abandoned after all. 

Yuma: Where’s this stench comin’ from?

Lucks: It’s a combination of rotten soil and the polluted air. People often compare it to the stench of rotting figs. 

Judging from your reaction, I guess you two know very little about us Ghouls as well? Nobody ever told you?

Yui: I know nearly nothing...You knew a few things about them, right, Yuma-kun? 

Yuma: Not really. I only picked up on a few tidbits here and there.

Lucks: Perfect. I believe it would be much better to just witness it with your own eyes instead. 

ー The scene shifts to the Ghouls’ manor

Lucks: Seems like Kino is absent right now. I’ll let you know as soon as he returns, but in the meantime you can make yourselves at home here.

I mean, now that you’re here anyway, feel free to explore the place. I’m sure that’ll help you understand Kino’s standpoint when the time comes. 

Yuma: Don’t make us wait too long. We’re still pressed on time after all.

Lucks: I know. I’ll drop by again as well, okay?

ー Lucks leaves the house

Yuma: ...Haah.

Yui: Are you alright?

Yuma: I guess ya could say I’m mentally exhausted...? That’s new for me.

I was wonderin’ what the future would have in store for us but...Never did I think I’d run into Boss again.

Yui: ...Are you happy?

Yuma: ...Well, yeah. I mean, I owe him just as much as I do Karlheinz-sama and the other dudes. 

I’m sure ya know by now, but this whole time, I’ve wanted to help fulfill his dream. 

Yui: ( He’s mentioned it to me a couple of times before. That’s why I realize just how important he is to Yuma-kun. )

Yuma: But still, that doesn’t mean I’ll help them out without thinkin’ it through.

I trust Lucks, but not Kino. I won’t let my guard down. 

I’ve got a lot to consider. First we gotta figure out what exactly Kino’s intentions are. 

Yui: Yeah. But should we have come here without informing anyone?

Yuma: I sent a Familiar to Ruki. I’m sure he’ll tell us to come back if he thinks it’s too dangerous for us to stay here. 

I mean, it’s already late so those are worries for tomorrow. ...That bein’ said.

Yui: Eh?

ー Yuma pulls her close

*Rustle* 

Yuma: Let’s go to bed. ...You’re comin’ with me, right?

Yui: I-I will but...We’re just going to sleep, right?

Yuma: Haah? You’re kiddin’, right? Ya really think I can sleep while I’m all worked up like this?

This stench sucks but I’m in a great mood. I’ll make sure ya enjoy it as well...So are you in for the ride?

Monologue

Seeing Yuma-kun in pain,

hurts me as well. 

That is why I felt relieved,

to see Yuma-kun look so happy,

over being able to reunite with one of his old friends. 

ーー Hence why I completely failed to notice,

how the Familiar which had been sent,

to Ruki-kun and the others over at Eden,

dissolved in the polluted air and vanished. 

ーー TO BE CONTINUED ーー

[gripefroot]

Crooked Ways [5/22]

Vegeta was starting to believe he was cursed. 

If this is what I get for trying to be courteous, I’m never doing it again! The biting rage filled his mind while he hopped on foot, clutching his throbbing toes with one hand and holding a breakfast tray aloof with the other, hissing and praying it wouldn’t spill on his head. 

With his luck, it just might be inevitable. 

“I cleaned this up last night!” he exploded, ignoring all politeness he might owe the occupant, now stirring beneath a pile of covers on the bed across the room. “Did you put this here on purpose to trip me?”

“Put what where?” Bulma’s bleary voice emerged from the covers a moment before her head did, teal hair standing on end and giant eyes blinking back sleep as they tried to focus on him. Vegeta gave her a snarl for the trouble, dropping the tray none too gently on her dresser. Then he kicked the box that had attacked his toes for good measure. “What’s that?” Bulma asked, rubbing her eyes with the heel of her hand. 

“How am I supposed to know!”

“Read the label,” she suggested. “Because I don’t know what it is. I didn’t do any more organizing last night after you forbade me from it.” Her tone was testy. Good to know he wasn’t the only one in a foul mood. 

Vegeta leaned over the box, frowning at the gold letters scrawled on top. Too flourished to be properly legible, but he made them out. “Canton’s Creations,” he read aloud. “There’s a note attached.”

“Well, what does it say?”

He bit back a nasty remark and read from the handwritten note. “For Miss Briefs. We look forward to seeing you in our latest creation tomorrow night. Love from Canton and team.” 

A full-hearted groan filled the room, diverting Vegeta’s attention from the box. Bulma had flopped back in her bed, covering her eyes with her hands and looking utterly defeated. Minus the necessary wounds, of course. 

“I can’t believe I forgot,” she moaned, as if she’d forgotten she wasn’t alone. “Stupid Past Me for agreeing to that!”

“What is it?” Vegeta asked warily, unsure if he truly wanted to know.

Bulma sighed, sliding her hands down her face. Then winced, cradling her cast to her chest. “It’s for a biannual scientific research award gala,” she said. “Dad asked me to go in his place. That was back when…” Her voice drifted off into another sigh. “Yamcha and I were going to go together.”

Ah. Vegeta inched towards the door, disinterested in female romantic hysterics. Lest he be tempted to fly halfway across the world and strangle Yamcha for being the cause of Vegeta having to listen to it. 

“I can’t stay another day in here!” Bulma cried out suddenly, blasting off the blankets as if suddenly able to control her ki. Vegeta opened his mouth to order her back to bed, and then closed it in a rare moment of wisdom. “And don’t tell me I should go back to bed,” she pointed a finger at Vegeta’s nose, approaching in a flurry of silken pajamas. He was glad he had said anything. 

“As if it’s worth the effort,” he retorted, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “You never listen, even when it’s good for you.”

She pulled a face, sticking out her tongue. 

“You can get your own meals from now on,” Vegeta said. “But do not go anywhere alone.”

“I’m going to a gala alone tomorrow night,” Bulma pointed out. She ran her fingers through her hair, standing the tufts of bangs on end. “What are you going to do about that?”

“Nothing. It’s hardly the same as a dark alley at midnight.”

“As if I’ve ever - ” She stomped a foot, hands clenched in fists at her side while her eyes sparked with anger. Well, one hand clenched. The other sort of…clasped around the cast. 

No wonder she needed a mountain of blankets at night. Her pajamas couldn’t possibly provide anything in the way of warmth. The silk shorts barely covered her backside and the top was only half-buttoned, showing off slips of pale shoulder and her long, slender arms.

“Don’t even try to ask me to accompany you to the gala,” Vegeta said, turning away. “I’d rather get eaten by an Scaled Amphrotic Slug than go to such a thing.”

“I’d rather eat a - a Scaley Amprotic Slug than ask,” Bulma shot back. He glanced over his shoulder to take one final admiring look at how irritation made her eyes bright and alive. He grinned without thinking, giving a tch! of appropriate derision just so she knew how disgusted he was by the prospect. 

The only problem was that he wasn’t as disgusted as he should be. 

Vegeta buried it beneath hours of training that day. The new bots Bulma had installed - just as violent and tricky and painful as he’d hoped - kept him on his toes and in the air and single-mindedly focused on avoiding the burning blasts that singed through his training clothes when he got unlucky. The blisters were reminders of how Bulma was besting him with her technology, how he needed to get stronger, faster, and better. He kept his teeth gritted and didn’t bother to wipe the sweat pouring down his face, the temperature of the pod rising uncomfortably by the hour. 

A blast of cool air caught the back of his neck, and he whipped around to dodge another blast, blinking at the sudden sunlight streaming in from the open door of the pod. 

“Relax, it’s just me,” Bulma said, striding right in as if she owned the place. Though technically she did. She was back in her jumpsuit, a hat holding her hair up and out of her face. 

“What do you want?” Vegeta panted, watching her approach with caution. 

She smiled, holding out a thin strip of fabric, one end falling to the floor. “I want to take measurements.”

“Measurements? Of what?”

“Just hold out your arms like a good boy and this’ll be over before you know it.” 

As if the bots knew their creator was in the room, all firing had ceased with Bulma’s appearance. Had she controlled them from outside the pod? She must. Vegeta tried not to flinch with each touch of Bulma’s cool fingers with the tape around his wrists, his biceps, down his arm. Each number she scribbled with a pen on the palm of her hand. 

“Like the bots?” she asked, muffled by the pen in her mouth as she measured from the nape of his neck to the end of his shoulder. Vegeta cursed the hairs rising on his skin. 

“They’re adequate,” he said. 

“More than adequate, I think.” Bulma fingered a singed bit of fabric from his back with a laugh. “I’ll upgrade them when you stop getting hit.” 

“What are you doing, anyway?” Vegeta snapped when she ducked beneath his outstretched arm to grab him around the waist. “This is humiliating!” 

“This is me doing something nice for you,” she said. The tape went around his waist, and she wrote that number on her palm as well. “Stop fidgeting, why don’t you? You’re acting like a toddler. Haven’t you been measured for clothes before?”

“Huh?”

Bulma hummed. “I take that as a no.” The tape went around his hips next. Vegeta fastened his eyes on the wall opposite him, taking short breaths through his nose. 

“Suits in the Frieza Force come in standard sizes,” he muttered. “And the undergarments are made of special fabrics that can be indefinitely stretched to any size. They are made standard across the universe.”

“Uh-huh. Well, I don’t have any of that special space fabric, so you’re just going to have to suffer.” Her knuckles brushed against his backside. Vegeta whirled around, glowering down at her kneeling behind him to measure from his buttocks to the ground. 

“The indignity!” he growled. 

“Hush. I’m almost done.” 

He believed her until the next several minutes were spent on the circumference of his thighs and calves, even the length of his feet, which he had to take off his boots for. 

“I’ll have to do some durability testing on different fabrics before I know the best blend of fibers to protect and move with you the best,” Bulma said, finally winding up the tape that Vegeta fervently hoped to never see again. “If you’re willing to test them out by fighting in them, it would be helpful for me.”

“Fine.” 

“Until then…” Her eyes swept up and down his body, somehow bristling him more than the light feel of the tape brushing over his skin. “Wait right there.” 

Vegeta crossed his arms, tapping his fingers on his biceps with his suspicious gaze narrowed on Bulma’s retreating figure. She left the pod to disappear in the brilliant sunshine, but returned a few minutes later with a pile of clothing.

“These at least aren’t torn, and they’re more suited for activity than the stuff you wear around the house,” Bulma explained. “Hope you don’t mind the Capsule Corp logo.”

Vegeta was indifferent to logos. He lifted a specimen from the top of the pile, letting it fall open to reveal a sleeveless black top. “I could make holes in this with one finger,” he declared, studying the flimsy weave. 

“Well, don’t,” Bulma said. “It’s getting embarrassing, how you wander around with that suit falling apart. Someone’s going to see something they don’t want to, someday, and they’re going to complain to me or Dad or Mom and then we’ll all be uncomfortable.” 

“If your race is bothered by such a thing - ” Vegeta began, but with a loud sigh Bulma held up a hand to shut him up. 

Unfortunately, it worked. 

“Another fact of the matter is that you live with us now, in our house,” she said. “You represent us. Do us a favor and put yourself together a little more.” 

“There are more important things than appearance.” He lifted up the next article of clothing, a pair of tight black shorts. “Like destroying the Androids.”

“Sure. Just make sure you destroy them without your nipples hanging out.” Bulma shoved the rest of the pile into Vegeta’s arms. Wadded socks fell out in a cascade, dropping to the floor. “See you later.”

He mused, after stripping off his blackened and unraveling suit to don the new clothes, that Bulma had been surprisingly cordial, all things considered. She hadn’t strangled him with the tape, even when she’d wrapped it around his neck to measure. It would have been a clever assassination attempt, even if she'd have no chance of success. Crouching over to tie the sneakers, he supposed it had been thoughtful of her to supply him with more appropriate clothes for training. 

He bounced on his feet a few times, testing the spring of the soles. Then threw some punches, calculating the strain in the sleeveless shirt. As long as he wasn’t fighting anything with poisonous spores for skin or that sweat lava or spat acid, it would suffice for training. 

A whirring noise above him caught his attention. Vegeta didn’t turn, grinning to himself as he heard the telltale sign of an incoming blast. 

Break time was over. He leapt forward, handspringing out of the trajectory of the deadly fire, and found that human clothes weren’t the worst he’d worn. 

~

He wolfed down the cold remains of the family dinner over the kitchen sink that night, gut ravaged by hunger from the especially good training that day. Usually he tried to exude more dignity but it was late enough that most of the lights in Capsule Corp were off and all was quiet. Not all, Vegeta allowed, dropping another bone into the plastic sack in the sink that he was using to dispose of the chicken carcass. The tinny drone of one of the shows Bulma favored tickled his ears while he ate. It didn’t bother him enough to shout at her to turn down the volume, but it was enough to remind him that he wasn’t the only one awake. 

Blue and white light flashed on the walls of the hallway when Vegeta made his way out of the kitchen. He paused in the archway leading into the living room where Bulma’s face was lit up by the screen of the television, a thoughtful purse to her lips that suggested that though she was nested on the couch in a pile of blankets (what was it with this Earth woman and coverings?) her mind was far away. 

“How’s your wrist?” Vegeta asked, because he could think of nothing else to say.

Bulma jolted, blinking in his direction with a shade of red rising in her cheeks. “Oh. Hi, Vegeta. I didn’t see you there.”

“I’m exceptionally quiet,” he said. 

“And humble.” She laughed at her own joke, which he didn’t appreciate. Then, “Those clothes fit you really well. How was training in them?”

“Fine.”

“And the bots? No misfires today?”

“No.” 

“And your conversational skills? Any improvement there?”

A beat of silence. “What?” 

Bulma shook her head, a smile playing at the corners of her mouth. “Are you going to bed?”

“Maybe,” Vegeta said. “Why?”

“I was thinking of putting on a new movie I haven’t seen before. I don’t want to watch it alone and you’d be the perfect companion.”

“Why not alone?” 

“It’s scary.” She wriggled her fingers at him, as if trying to spook him. A full-blooded Saiyan and a prince to boot! What a joke. 

“I don’t understand the appeal of the television,” Vegeta intoned, waving a dismissive hand at the screen. “But if you need a companion, I will stay untilI resume my training.”

“You’re not sleeping tonight?” Bulma asked, but her eyes were on the television as she used the remote to change channels. 

“I’ll sleep later.” 

“Sit,” she said without looking, using her casted hand to pat the couch next to her. “May as well rest while you can, since you seem so determined to run your body into the ground.” 

“A Saiyan’s body adapts and improves only under intense pressure,” he said loudly, perching on the edge of the couch. The furthest he could get from her. 

“Yes, that’s also how bodies die,” Bulma said in a sleek voice. The television screen went black before lighting up with the movie title. 

“Horror in the Night?” he read aloud over the buildup of creepy music. “What’s this about?”

“Killer clowns.”

“I thought Kakarot wasn’t on Earth right now.”

“Ha, ha,” she said. “Shut up and watch.” 

Vegeta’s interest in the movie was negligible through the first bit, until people started getting hacked to bloody, dramatic deaths by clowns with axes. The clever way the clowns sprung traps on unsuspecting victims had him nodding along. 

“We did something similar on Planet Kioba,” he commented. “Afterwards we had to drain the natives because their bodies decomposed in a way that - ” Glancing over at Bulma, he saw her fingers covering her eyes as she shuddered. “What?” he boomed, aghast at her sensitivity. “It was only a beheading!” 

“Yes, well, pardon me for not reveling in bloodshed!” she shot back. Between her fingers he saw the peep of blue eyes. 

“For a woman that has followed Kakarot around for much of her life, your stamina is pathetic!” Vegeta turned back to the television, just in time to watch an arm get hacked off. 

“Goku wasn’t killing people!” Bulma said. 

“You wanted to watch this movie, didn’t you?” He reached over with a grunt, tugging her hand away from her face. “Steel yourself, woman! You’ll see worse one day if you are so insistent on being involved in our fights.”

“Oh, shove it.” For added measure Bulma smacked his hand away. 

“Why did you insist on this?” Vegeta asked with a frown. 

“Horror movies are just…distracting.” With an ashen face she waved a hand at the screen, then winced at a clown’s smile of jagged, bloodstained teeth. 

“Distracting? From what?” 

“Oh, gosh.” She closed her eyes while the clown tore into the severed arm. 

“The clown is an idiot,” Vegeta declared. “Does he not know the human is behind him?” 

“Obviously not,” Bulma said. “You know we can’t sense energy, right?” 

“Pathetic excuse.” His words were drowned out by screams from the dying clown. The human had bested it, and in a particularly glorious, gorey way. Unfortunately the scene didn’t save his armless, dying friend, and Vegeta scoffed while the hero cried over the corpse. “Now what?” he asked. “The enemy is dead. Though if you ask me, the clown was a worthy hero in his own right.”

“He’s going to take revenge on all clowns,” Bulma explained. Her eyes were open again at the lull in violence, twisting the frayed edges of a blanket between her fingers. “The climax will be him versus the final, most dangerous clown of all and…one of them will kill the other.” 

“If you know all that, why watch the movie?”

“For the experience,” she said with a savage look. 

“Oh, right,” Vegeta nodded. “The distraction. Have you ever considered that you’d be better served distracting yourself by training?”

“Says the man who has no other hobbies,” she muttered. 

“Hobbies are for pasty low-lifes who live in decrepit states of subjugation or false peace! We Saiyans have a mightier cause to fight for! And we have many hobbies,” he added, more interested in the precise shape of Bulma’s pursed lips than the movie. “For your information, Saiyans aren’t just known for being the universe’s best fighters. We’ve cultivated reputations for our other skills as well.”

“Being annoying?” she asked with an arched brow. 

Vegeta had shifted his position on the couch without thinking, resting an arm over the top cushion and staring beadily at the woman across from him. “It’s easiest to remember as the three F’s,” he informed her, holding up one finger. “Fighting.”

“Yeah, I got that.”

He held up a second finger to join the first. “Feasting.”

“The grocery bill is proof of that.”

“And the one is fu - ” The word didn’t come out of his mouth. Vegeta snapped his lips shut, teeth rattling through his skull with heat that could rival the Omni-Centuri Supergiant. 

What had gotten him here, precisely? Not just on a couch in the company of a frail human, but speaking openly. Of his heritage, of his people. And of…

Well, he wasn’t about to utter the word. 

“And what?” Bulma asked, but a sly tilt to her sudden smile made him believe that she already knew.

“Never mind,” he muttered, and twisted back to face the television. 

“I already know you’re good at fighting,” she said in a contemplative sort of way. So she wasn’t about to let that one go. Vegeta ground his teeth together. “And I’ve seen you eat. So the only question is…”

Don’t ask it, don’t ask it…

“Are you as good at the…well, you know, as you are the other two?” 

She couldn’t know how shriveled up he felt on the inside. How embarrassing. Thankfully the only light was from the television screen and so she wasn't likely to see the red in his cheeks. And neck. The twinkle in her eye made him feel as though he were floundering, caught up in currents he couldn’t fight against, couldn’t defeat. He would rather die than admit any of this, naturally, and so Vegeta did the first thing that came to his harried mind in that tense moment. 

He took the offense. 

“Why do you ask?” He narrowed a look her way. “Do you want to find out?” 

It was hard to tell which of her tics gave her away first. The parting of her lips, the lift of her eyebrows, the pink suffusing the pale skin of her face. The clenching of her fingers on the blanket, frayed ends forgotten. 

“You,” Bulma blustered. So she was going with angry. Vegeta could sigh in relief - he could handle angry. “You - salacious - predatory - ”

“Watch the movie, woman,” he barked. Anything to put the conversation to bed. Er, rest. She huffed, crossed her arms much like he did, and stuck her nose up in the air. Holding back a smile at the clear victory for him (and when he’d felt so outmaneuvered by her interest!) Vegeta was scarcely paying attention to the movie until a clown leapt out of shadows on the screen with the screech of voices and music that clanged through his ears.

Adrenaline surged through his veins, bringing up an instinctual “Ah!” that billowed from his mouth to echo through the room. His arms had flown up in defense to shield himself, energy pulsing into a strong build in his palm before he realized that Bulma was laughing. 

Laughing.

“Serves you right,” she wheezed, clutching her chest. “If you’d been watching instead of coming onto me you would’ve seen him stalking the guy!” 

“It’s not my fault!” Vegeta snapped, suppressing his energy in one swift breath and lowering his arms to his sides. Yet his fingers clenched on the armrest of the couch, the frame creaking under his strength. “I’m not so easily startled in real life. I simply cannot sense energy on television. That tactic of sneaking up behind would never work on me.”

“Of course not,” Bulma shook her head, but her smile wasn’t cruel. 

“Movies are stupid,” he declared. 

“I love movies.” 

“Says the woman keeping her eyes closed.” 

“I want to be distracted, but I don’t want nightmares,” she said reasonably. 

“Ha!” 

He could think of nothing else to say. But his mind didn’t remain on Bulma and her curiosity or her ‘distractions,’ instead calculating the positions of the characters on screen. Their battle plans were pathetic - if those impulsive choices they made could be counted as such. A small amount of preparation might have saved the hero’s life, in the end, and Vegeta was sure of the alternative plan he cooked up in his own mind. 

“Well.” Bulma broke the silence when the movie ended with a final shot of the clown with its crimson-stained ax, turning slowly to stare at the audience. It wouldn’t last five seconds against Vegeta, he was sure. “Thank you for staying. I guess.” 

Her earlier blush was long gone, as was most of the color in her face. 

“They could have tracked the clowns by their footprints alone,” Vegeta stated. “Then they would have known the enemies position, their number, even the sizes of the clowns based on how deep their weight imprinted in the dirt. A counterattack could have easily been launched from the upper levels of that house, giving the humans leverage.” 

“I’m sure that’ll help me sleep tonight,” Bulma said.

“As it should.” He couldn’t help puffing out his chest a little. “Especially knowing a master tactician lives under your roof.”

“And eats all my snacks. By the way, you ate the last of the potato chips.”

“So?” Vegeta demanded. Her bottom lip stuck out in response. 

“I wanted them.”

”Buy more!” 

Bulma threw off her blankets, jolting him with the sight of her pajamas. Again. The ones that didn’t cover her smooth, shapely legs. The billowing air scent a sweet, deliciously-Bulma scent his way, and without thinking Vegeta craned his neck back, breathing deep. His eyes didn’t quite roll back in his skull, but some muscles twitched and fluttered as if responding to something out of his control. 

“You’re impossible,” she said. Flounced right in front of him, her rear about twelve inches from his face until she’d left the living room. 

He remained where he was until he heard a door shut far away. She was in her bedroom, then. He exhaled slowly, muscles intensing and fingers unwinding from the fists he’d made. 

He shouldn’t have brought it up. The three F’s. He shouldn’t have even considered it. Shouldn’t have put that third one anywhere near his consciousness. Not when it could so easily distract him from his true calling, his true destiny. Saiyans weren’t known for multi-tasking. He knew the danger of entertaining thoughts that might steer him away from his ascension. 

Irritably - because he should’ve gone the moment the movie ended - Vegeta stalked out of the dome for the training pod. 

Bulma had been right about the distraction. And now he needed his own.