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smilingformoney · 5 months

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Icebreaker | Alexander Dane/Reader

I. Never Meet Your Heroes

Summary: As a budding actress and a big fan of Alexander Dane, all your dreams are coming true when you land a role in Galaxy Quest opposite your favourite actor. To your disappointment, Alexander doesn't seem to like you very much - but unbeknownst to you, he's trying desperately to ignore his attraction to you.

Read now on Ao3 or below the cut:

You were almost vibrating with excitement on your first day on set.

You hadn’t taken part in the table read, as your casting was so last minute, so this was your first time meeting the cast and your first time playing the scene would be when the cameras were rolling. You were nervous, but you didn’t mind - you’d spent plenty of time as a theatre understudy, so you were used to playing a scene against someone you hadn’t rehearsed with. What you weren’t used to, however, was playing against such famous names.

If that weren’t enough, your main scene partner was to be none other than Alexander Dane, who just so happened to be your favourite actor in the world.

You wouldn’t quite say you were obsessed with him, but you had seen all his films, and you’d even managed to see him perform Shakespeare in London once, though you’d missed out on seeing him at the stage door. You also had a poster from his performance as Richard III on your wall, and hidden away in notebooks you’d never shared with anyone were fanfictions you’d written about his Galaxy Quest character, mostly involving romances between Dr Lazarus and characters you’d made up that totally weren’t stand-ins for yourself.

And now… you were actually going to play a love interest to Lazarus!

All your dreams were coming true. Your first TV role, in Galaxy Quest, with Alexander Dane, playing Lazarus’ love interest!

You absolutely, resolutely, could not fuck this up.

Your character’s name was Bethany, a fellow member of the Mak’Tar race, who, like Lazarus, believed herself to be the last of the race until she and Lazarus meet by chance and the two are faced with the question of whether they should procreate to repopulate their species.

On your arrival, you met with the production assistant, who led you to hair and make-up to be fitted with a cap similar to the one Alexander wore to make yourself look like an alien.

You were almost done, your hair now completely hidden by the cap and the last of your make-up being applied, when the door was thrown open and none other than Alexander Dane stepped through and sat himself down in the chair next to yours, completely ignoring you, which was fortunate because it gave you an opportunity to close your mouth when you gaped at him.

“Let’s get this blasted thing on quickly, Lena, I want to get today over with,” Alexander grumbled.

Lena, the make-up artist, rolled her eyes and continued working on you with hardly a flinch at Alexander’s abrasive attitude.

“I’m nearly done here, Alexander, then I’ll be with you.”

Alexander looked over and seemed to finally notice you. He frowned, then saw the matching cap on your head, and rolled his eyes.

“They’re going ahead with this bloody plotline, then,” he grumbled, then immediately grabbed a magazine from the dresser and stuck his nose in it.

You hadn’t said a word, and yet somehow you felt like you’d managed to fuck up your meeting with him.

“Don’t mind him, [Y/n],” said Lena, apparently completely unaffected by Alexander’s grumpiness. “He’s always like this. I must be his least favourite person on set because I’m the one who puts his cap on.”

“Third least,” Alexander replied from behind his magazine. “After Jason and Frank.”

“Jason Nesmith, he plays Taggart,” Lena explained to you. “And —”

“Frank Ross, the creator, I assume,” you finished.

Lena smiled. “You’ve done your homework!”

“I watch the show, I know who created it.”

Alexander groaned and lowered his magazine to finally look at you, albeit via the mirror. “Great, they hired another fan. When did this show stop hiring actors?”

“I can be both!” you said defensively. “Besides, what’s wrong with hiring fans? There’s no point in creating art if you don’t love it.”

“Pfft. I’d hardly call this show art. It’s nothing but meaningless drivel, and this episode’s no different, so don’t flatter yourself into thinking you’re creating something great just because you’re on TV.”

“All done!” Lena announced, ignoring Alexander, and she stepped aside to let you examine yourself in the mirror. “What do you think?”

“Wow, that is weird,” you laughed, turning your head to the side to examine your new alien look. “You can’t even tell I’ve got hair underneath! I look pretty good, actually, maybe I’ll shave my head after this.”

Alexander scoffed. “Take the cap with you, make it a new fashion trend.”

“Right, Alexander, it’s your turn!” Lena announced, and the actor just sighed.

“Fine, let’s get it over with.”

Lena gave you directions to the costume department and you left feeling even more anxious than before about your scenes with Alexander Dane.

---

Although your background was in theatre, you knew from industry knowledge that in film and TV, scenes were never filmed in order. So it was a surprise to you that your first scene of the day was actually your first scene of the episode. Your character Bethany was locked in a futuristic alien zoo, gaped at daily by an alien species that marvelled at “the last Mak’Tar.” That was, until the crew of the Protector came by to rescue another alien from their zoo habitat, and Lazarus found Bethany in her cage.

You ran through the scene with the director a few times before Alexander’s arrival. Once he did arrive, he only talked quickly with the director before getting into position, and suddenly you were moments away from your first scene.

The director raised her megaphone. “ACTION!”

Lazarus approached the invisible barrier that surrounded the habitat, staring in disbelief at the figure curled up on the floor. The floor itself was wet sand with small pools of seawater, just like the environment of his home planet of Tev’Meck. Without the rest of the zoo in his periphery, he might even have believed he was back on Tev’Meck.

He glanced down at the information screen. It was all written in an alien language he couldn’t speak, but he recognised two words: Mak’Tar and Tev’Meck.

Lazarus walked around the enclosure slowly, trying not to wake the figure on the floor, until he was able to get a good look at them. Sure enough, they shared his physiology. Could it really be that another one of his kind was here, in this zoo?

A crash in the distance caused Lazarus to look up suddenly. Taggart, no doubt, causing chaos as he attempted to escape with the alien he’d come to recover.

He had to get out of there. And if there was a chance this sleeping figure really was another Mak’Tar, he had to get them out of there too.

Lazarus circled back around to the information panel and hacked the operational code he’d learnt earlier before coming to save their target. A few beeps later, the forcefield was down, and Lazarus stepped into the habitat, crouching down by the figure to wake them.

“Hello?” he whispered. “Can you hear me?”

He grabbed the figure’s shoulder, rolled them onto their back, and recoiled slightly in shock. It was a female Mak’Tar!

The woman opened her eyes slowly, blinking away the sleep, frowning in confusion at seeing a figure looming over her.

Lazarus composed himself and knelt down again.

“It’s alright, I’m here to help. My name is Lazarus, I’m a Mak’Tar too. What’s your name?”

“…Bethany,” replied the woman, pausing as if it took her a moment to remember.

“Well, Bethany, how would you like to escape?”

“I… I think I’d like that very much.”

Lazarus smiled and nodded. “Excellent. Take my hand.”

He stood, and Bethany took his outstretched hand. Wow, his hands are soft , you thought as Lazarus pulled Bethany to her feet. She took a step, but stumbled. Lazarus glanced down and saw that she was favouring her left foot, her right being bandaged. Without hesitation, Lazarus threw her arm around his shoulder and helped her stumble out into the corridor.

“Cut!”

For your first take, you thought it had gone pretty well. You hadn’t messed up once! Whether or not Alexander agreed, you weren’t sure, because he simply released your arm from his grip and immediately walked back to his original mark for the second take.

You ran through the scene three more times, filming from different angles each time, until the director concluded the scene finished.

What amazed you about Alexander was the way he switched between Lazarus and Alexander with ease. Action - he was a hero, a lone survivor who had to contain himself at the possibility of finding another survivor in favour of concentrating on a quick exit. He was smiling as he pulled Bethany to her feet, his eyes warm and kind, and just a little excited. Cut - he was an actor, a grumpy thespian stuck in a job he hated, just getting through the day until he could throw the cap back in Lena’s face and stomp off home. He let go of you as soon as he could, not looking at you or even acknowledging your existence outside of the scene.

Ever heard the saying never meet your heroes? Well, you were discovering now why that was true. Alexander Dane was your favourite actor, your idol, your celebrity crush and the reason you’d pursued acting in the first place. And, it turned out, he was a massive jackass.

You weren’t naïve; you hadn’t gone into this expecting your crush to fall in love with you and whisk you off on some romance. You hadn’t even expected to make friends with him. But you had hoped to at least have a good working relationship with him for the week you were there and to come away with some fun stories about the week you spent on the set of Galaxy Quest.

Apparently, that wasn’t to be. So you resolved yourself to give the best performance you could and hope the fans liked your character when the episode aired.

Your next scene took place on the viewing deck, Bethany having successfully escaped the alien zoo and finding herself on board the Protector. You stood in front of the glass that separated you from the green screen that would be replaced in post-production with the vast expanse of the cosmos, gazing thoughtfully through the window as the director took some establishing shots of you standing alone.

When she was happy with the solo shots, the director called action for Alexander to make his entrance.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Lazarus said as he stepped up beside Bethany, looking out at the cosmos and remembering what it was like for him when he first looked out into space from the safety of the ship.

“It’s terrifying,” Bethany replied quietly, and Lazarus frowned at her.

“Terrifying?”

“It’s so big… so easy to get lost.” She raised a hand and lightly placed her fingertip against the glass, covering an entire galaxy with just her fingertip. “How many species are out there?”

“Billions, I suppose. It’s impossible to count. Trillions of life forms… and none of them like us.”

Bethany looked up at him. Alexander’s profile was illuminated by the stage lights, emphasising the outline of his nose.

“How can you be sure? Maybe others survived. We did.”

Lazarus shook his head sadly. “I don’t think so. Even if there are… the chances of finding them are minuscule. It’s a miracle I ran into you.” He looked down at her and smiled, not a trace of Alexander’s regular irritation on his features. Lazarus was only kind, curious, and a little hesitant. “Perhaps it’s fortunate that I found you. So we can… keep the Mak’Tar species alive.”

“For now.” Bethany looked back out at the vast cosmos. “We’ll both die eventually, though. Then the Mak’Tar are done for.”

Lazarus hesitated. “Not necessarily. There would be more of us if we were to… make more.”

Bethany kept her gaze firmly fixed on the expansive view from the window. She blushed slightly - you had never quite grasped forcing the blood to rush to your cheeks, but you could at least act as if it had - then shook her head.

“No, I… I think it’s best not.”

Lazarus was stunned. He collected himself and said, “And let our species die?”

Bethany turned back to Lazarus, and as much as you understood her motivations, you selfishly wished the scene were to end with a passionate make out session.

“It’s survival of the strongest, Lazarus,” Bethany said. You very suddenly realised you’d missed a line, but your theatre instincts kicked in, and you continued. “Our people were squashed like bugs when someone stronger came along. One day, our conquerors will be destroyed by someone or something stronger than them. And so the cycle continues - until there’s nothing left. Why delay the inevitable?”

“All our history, our culture - gone —”

Bethany shook her head. “It’s not gone. It’s just a story now.”

The script called for Lazarus to be speechless, so you gave Alexander a few moments to let the emotions play out on his face, then Bethany glanced out the window again.

“I think I’ll ask to be dropped off on Atera. It always looked very pretty in the books.”

She glanced uncertainly at Lazarus one last time, and when his stunned silence continued, she walked away, leaving him alone with the crushing disappointment that he wouldn’t save his species after all.

“Cut! Great first go, guys, but [Y/n], you missed a line. After Alexander says ‘and let our species die’ —”

“‘Nothing lasts forever.’ Yeah, I know, sorry. Got ahead of myself.”

“Well, at least you kept going,” Alexander said as he came up to where you were standing to take his starting position again. “Most TV actors would have broken character, swore loudly then insisted on trying the whole thing again. You held it together like a true thespian.”

You smiled coyly. He was complimenting you!

“Well, my career has been theatre so far. I’m used to having to improvise on the spot without breaking character.”

Alexander smirked at you conspiratorially. “Honestly, I enjoy it. Keeps me on my toes. On camera, you stop and start again when you make a mistake - everything has to be so perfect. And once the filming’s done, that’s it, no going back. In theatre, you do it a little differently every night. It’s so much more…”

He paused, looking for the right word.

“Organic?”

Alexander looked at you with surprise, as if it were a wonder you understood.

You wanted to talk to him more about theatre, something you both clearly loved, but you had to do the scene five more times to get the right camera angles, so you returned to your mark by the window and readied yourself to do the whole thing over again.

When the scene was finally declared finished, you were done for the day, so you returned to the make-up room to get your cap taken off. Alexander had one more scene to do on the brig, so once Lena had released your hair from its captivity and you were back in your regular Earth clothes, you snuck into the back of the set to watch the cast wrapping up. When else would you get an opportunity to see a classic Galaxy Quest brig room scene being filmed?

Jason Nesmith was giving one of his classic Taggart speeches, all the crew showing rapt attention except for Lazarus, who was seemingly distracted.

The speech concluded, the crew applauded and set to work, and Taggart swaggered up to Lazarus at his station.

“Lazarus! Something up, buddy? You didn’t applaud or nod once during my speech. Was it not inspiring enough for you?”

Lazarus looked up at his captain and smiled good-naturedly. “Very inspiring, Captain, thank you. My apologies, I was…”

He glanced forward thoughtfully, looking at the cosmos through the window and remembering his conversation with Bethany earlier. Alexander in fact looked behind the cameras, and straight at you.

“…distracted,” he finished.

“Ah, thinking of that new girl, are ya? Not surprised, she’s a pretty one. I presume. If she had hair instead of your head thing, I’d think she was pretty. Suppose she’s pretty to you, isn’t she?”

“Mhm…” Lazarus responded, Alexander’s eyes still fixed directly on you. He blinked, as if snapping himself out of a trance, then turned back towards Taggart. “Yes, I suppose she is. Excuse me, Captain.”

He stood and exited the scene by the doors at the back. Jason finished the scene with a conversation with Gwen DiMarco, then the director called cut.

“Great take, everyone! Alexander - your best one yet. You really sold us on how conflicted Lazarus is. Alright, that’s a wrap for today, we’ve got some sets to prepare over the weekend so we’ll see you all bright and early on Monday!”

The crew began shutting down and you slipped back out so as to not get in the way. You were at the cloakroom collecting your coat and bag when Alexander, still in his costume, came up to you, taking you by surprise.

“Jesus! Sorry, Alexander, you scared me.”

He smirked. “Sorry. I just wanted to say, you weren't awful today. Did you say you came from theatre?”

You blushed, and you could feel that this time your cheeks really had gone red. “Oh - wow, thanks. Erm, yeah, nothing major, I’ve just been understudying the last couple of years.”

“Nonsense, understudies are vital! Learning everyone’s roles and being ready to take any one of them on at any moment? No wonder you did so well today without rehearsal. Listen, the cast and I are heading out to a bar tonight. It’s not often we get a whole weekend off. Would you like to join us?”

Surprise and excitement sprung up inside your chest. Surprise that the man who’d been grumpy all day was suddenly being nice, and excitement at the chance to socialise with the Galaxy Quest cast.

“Sure, I’d love to! Where are we going?”

Alexander winced. “Paolo’s Karaoke Bar. I’d avoid that place like the plague myself, but there are private rooms so we won’t be disturbed by fans, and the beer is good.”

“How many beers do I have to buy you to convince you to sing?” you grinned.

“I’ll be blackout drunk getting my stomach pumped before you get a note out of me. Is that a yes?”

“Yes, I’d love to come!”

“Great - and no recording any of it,” Alexander added sternly as you slipped your coat off again and came back inside to wait for everyone to finish getting out of their costumes. “If even a single photo of this ends up on Twitter, I’m holding you personally accountable. We don’t usually invite fans to join us, but since technically you’re an actor…”

“No tweeting, got it. I do just need to let my roommate know where I’m going, though. In case of, you know, murder.”

Alexander frowned at you.

“It’s a girl thing. Go, get de-capped, I’ll wait here.”

Alexander sighed, muttered something about young people, and left you waiting in the hallway, wondering what the night had in store for you.

---

You didn’t remember much of the taxi ride to Alexander’s house. Apparently it took half an hour, but you hardly paid attention, as you were far too busy snogging him in the back seat to care how long you’d been in the car for.

You came up for air when the taxi pulled up to the house, and once you ungracefully clamoured out of the car, Alexander paid the driver while you stared up at the Beverly Hills mansion.

“You live here alone?!” you gasped.

“Welcome to the rich side of town,” Alexander replied, his feet as unsteady as yours as he approached you and wrapped an arm around your waist. “Wanna see the inside?”

“Hell yes.”

After some fumbling with his keys, Alexander managed to get the front door open and he ushered you inside. He switched on the lights, and you gasped at just how huge and open the space was. Half the walls were all window, and those that were actual wall were lined with posters from Alexander’s previous projects - mostly his theatre shows, with a few films here and there.

“That’s the one I have,” you laughed, pointing to the poster of him from Richard III.

Alexander wrapped his arms around you from behind, his erection pressing into your arse as he held you close. “Is that so? How many wanks did teen [Y/n] have staring at that poster?”

“Far too many to count.”

“Did you imagine your fingers were mine?” Alexander murmured softly in your ear, one hand travelling tauntingly slowly past the waistband of your trousers. “Did you slip them inside trying to emulate my cock? Because believe me, mere fingers couldn’t come even close to stretching you the way my cock can.”

“I - I have a vibrator named after you,” you admitted, anticipating building up inside you when Alexander cupped your cunt with his hand, savouring the warmth you were radiating against him.

“My, you really are a naughty thing, aren’t you? Let’s see if my fingers live up to your imagination.”

You gasped as he slipped his middle finger inside you, firm and thick, his skin slightly rough and absolutely nothing like your own.

Alexander kept one arm firmly around your chest, a hand cupping your breast through your top, and you had to lean back into him to stay upright. He buried his face in your neck, teeth and tongue exploring your skin, his hair tickling your face slightly. His thumb circled your lower lips, searching for that sweet spot, and when he found it, you moaned, which quickly turned into a hiccup.

Alexander smirked against your neck, but when you hiccupped again, he paused his sensual movements.

“Hic - sorry,” you mumbled, your head spinning slightly from the combination of alcohol and arousal.

“Sit down, I’ll get you some water,” Alexander said softly. He pulled his hand out of your pants, which you thoroughly disliked, but you did feel better when he deposited you on the couch and went into the kitchen to fetch you some water. The couch was warm and soft, and you felt like you could just sink into it and sleep as comfortably as on a bed…

The next thing you knew, you were lying on your front, your eyes blinking open, though you quickly squeezed them shut when you saw the sunlight pouring in from the window.

You buried your face in the pillow and let out a groan. Your head was pounding. Great, you’d woken up with a migraine.

No… it wasn’t a migraine. It was a hangover. You could feel the familiar ache in your stomach as it tried to digest the alcohol you’d consumed.

You’d been hungover enough in the past to know your routine. Toilet, coffee, a greasy breakfast and a shower, in that order.

You reluctantly sat up in the bed, your eyes adjusting to the light, and your heart skipped a beat in fear for a moment when you didn’t recognise your surroundings. Whose bed were you in if not your own?!

You looked around for a clue, and on a wall was a glaringly obvious one - a massive four-panel framed art piece featuring Alexander Dane’s brooding headshot.

Oh god, you were in Alexander Dane’s bed.

…Alone. Where was the man himself?

You rolled out of the superking-sized bed, which was difficult as you were slap bang in the middle. You reached the edge eventually, and when you threw the covers back and sat up, you noticed that your trousers and bra had been discarded, but you still had your top on.

You trudged into the en-suite bathroom, which was bigger than your own bedroom, and sat down on the toilet. You’d solve the mystery of how you ended up alone in Alexander Dane’s bed in a bit - you had to take care of business first.

When that was done, you were feeling a bit more awake, and managed to find your discarded trousers on the floor. You couldn’t find your bra, so you pushed that thought aside for later, and turned your attention to finding Alexander.

He was, you discovered, fast asleep on the sofa in the living room, mouth gaping most inelegantly as he snored, one leg bent and the other splayed on the floor, with one arm on his chest and the other behind his head.

You nudged him softly. When he didn’t respond, you tickled his exposed armpit.

“What the fuck!” Alexander grumped as he shot awake, his arm instinctively clamping down against his side to protect himself from any further tickle attacks. He blinked, delirious, then saw you standing over him and frowned. “[Y/n]? What the fuck are you doing here?”

“I was hoping you’d know the answer to that,” you replied. “Last I remember we were at the bar, next thing I know I’m waking up in your bed without you in it.”

Alexander sat up, looking just as affronted by the light as you were, and he rubbed his temple.

“I don’t remember anything after the bar either,” he mumbled. “Why am I on the couch?”

“Dunno. I’d suggest you were a gentleman and insisted I took the bed, but from what I’ve learnt of you in the last day, you probably just collapsed on the sofa and I took the bed for myself.”

Alexander grunted, then yawned. “Ugh. Want some coffee?”

“If you’re offering.”

“‘Course I am. More of a gentleman than you seem to think.”

Alexander pushed himself up off the couch and shuffled off towards the kitchen, then paused halfway to pick something up from the armchair.

“This yours?”

He turned and offered you your own bra, and you blushed.

“Oh… yeah, I was wondering where that was.”

Alexander passed it to you without much thought, then continued his half-asleep trek to the kitchen, leaving you to wonder why the fuck your bra had been discarded on the armchair.

You quickly pulled off your top and set about putting your bra back on, trying to be quick before Alexander saw you, but of course by hurrying you fumbled more with the catch and it took you longer than you’d have liked before you finally got the straps over your shoulders and pulled your top back over your head.

“How do you like it?” Alexander asked when you entered the kitchen.

“Strong and black.”

“A woman after my own heart.”

You blushed again and sat yourself on a stool, looking around the kitchen, trying to remember something, anything, from your journey between the bar and Alexander’s bed.

“I vaguely recall offering you to stay at mine rather than get a taxi to your place alone,” Alexander said after a few moments. He was staring at the coffee maker as it boiled, as if his memories from last night were in there. “But after that, nothing until you attacked my armpit.”

“I don’t even remember that much. I think my memory ran out of storage about 2am.”

“So you remember karaoke then?”

You grinned. “Yes, I remember karaoke.”

“Mmph. Unfortunately so do I.”

Alexander poured you a hot cup of coffee, and when the first sip of the bitter drink passed your lips, you felt as if your soul had been renewed.

“That is the best thing I have ever tasted in the history of anything,” you sighed happily. “Both because I desperately need caffeine and because that’s a damn good coffee.”

“Some fancy stuff Gwen got me for Christmas,” Alexander said, leaning against the counter as he cradled his own cup like it was his salvation. “I don’t usually share it, so you should be honoured.”

You smiled. “It’s the greatest of honours.”

You were silent for a few minutes as you savoured your drinks, you trying to recall the previous night and he remembering small slivers of moments as his memory slowly came back to him.

He remembered coming back from the kitchen with a glass of water only to find you’d passed out on the sofa. He had tried to wake you, but you were out cold, so instead he hoisted you up and carried you to his bed. Exhaustion hit him, and he didn’t want to share a bed with you without your permission, so he relegated himself to the sofa instead.

That was all he remembered. How your bra had ended up on the armchair, he had no idea, because he was certain he’d dumped you on the bed fully dressed.

Once he’d managed to send you on your way, Alexander sat down at his computer and logged on to boot up the security programme. He had installed security cameras around his house in case of a break-in, not in case of lost drunken memories, but he absolutely had to know why your bra had made its way to the armchair.

He loaded the living room camera from the previous night and scrubbed through the footage until he saw the two of you walk in through the front door, then he slowed down and watched.

You came in first, followed by him, and - oh, god. His hand was down your trousers almost instantly. You looked very pleased with his actions, but you were clearly wasted - almost as soon as he left to fetch you some water, you sat down on the sofa and passed out.

Alexander watched as he carried you into the bedroom, then returned shortly after to pass out on the sofa himself. The armchair was still braless so he sped up the footage, until about an hour later when you appeared at the doorway.

He’d apparently not fallen asleep yet or was sleeping lightly, because you had only to say something to have him sitting up. You perched yourself on the arm of the armchair, the two of you exchanged words with each other - Alexander cursed himself for not having audio recording on this thing - and, to his own surprise, he stood up from the sofa, crossed the room in a few long strides, and his lips were on yours.

He watched himself sit on the chair and pull you onto his lap, and from the camera’s angle he could mostly just see your back, but it was plain that the two of you were kissing passionately. His arms wrapped around you and held you close, then grabbed the bottom of your shirt and pulled the whole thing over your head. You reached behind to unclasp your bra and threw it over the back of the armchair, where he’d find it later that morning.

Alexander sighed. What on earth had he been thinking?

Well, that was no question at all. His stupid, primal, drunk man brain had thought, Woman wants to fuck me. Dick wants to fuck woman. Must obey dick.

Never mind how young you were, or how drunk, or the fact that you were a bloody fan, probably just eager to tell your friends that you’d scored with Dr Lazarus.

He watched the screen anxiously, waiting for something to happen that he’d regret. He watched as you pulled away from the kiss to say something, and his horny, drunk self grinned excitedly.

Had he really fucked you and forgotten all about it?

On the screen, you said something else, and his past self paused. He said something, you replied, and he shook his head.

You seemed to protest, but he insisted and pushed you off his lap. You were apparently irritated, by the way that you grabbed your top and stormed off, leaving him to drag himself back to the sofa and fall back asleep, both of you leaving the bra behind on the armchair.

Alexander scrubbed through the footage just to be sure, but nothing else happened until you appeared hours later to wake him up.

He closed the footage and leant back in his chair with a sigh. He was relieved he’d apparently changed his mind about your drunken fumble, but now he had a conundrum. Should he tell you what the footage showed? Surely you too were wondering how the bra got there. Or did you know? You’d seemed just as confused as he was, and in fact seemed to not remember anything at all about coming back to his house. Or maybe you were just covering it up by pretending not to remember anything at all.

What would be the point in telling you? “Hey, [Y/n], I checked my cameras and we almost hooked up but apparently I changed my mind and sent you to bed. Just letting you know.”

If you knew, you might think it meant you had a chance with him. Alexander didn’t have anything against dating other actors, but he did have a strict rule about fans. He couldn’t possibly be with someone, whether for one night or long term, who just saw him as Dr Lazarus. Besides, if you liked the show, that clearly meant you had straw for brains, and he had higher standards than that.

No, he decided, it was best you didn’t know about that little fumble. On your next filming day, he would be nothing but professional, and any idea you might have of having a chance with him would quickly disappear.

---

Alexander’s version of “being professional” was to be even ruder to you than usual. You had no idea why he was being so abrasive, but he hardly spoke to you in the make-up room, chatting exclusively to Lena and giving you short, one or two word answers if he had to speak to you at all.

With no memory of the events on Friday, you could only conclude that Alexander just didn’t like you, though he didn’t seem to like anyone, so you tried not to take it personally. Even so, being rejected by your favourite actor for no apparent reason was soul-crushing to say the least.

You knew trying to talk to him and getting rebuffed would just upset you, so you decided to follow his lead and keep conversation to a minimum. While the cameras were rolling, you had an intense, uncertain relationship between your characters, but as soon as the cameras stopped, Alexander was back to ignoring you.

Even with his cold attitude towards you, you still managed to make the most of the experience, choosing to focus instead on the thrill of being on the Galaxy Quest set. Your character was in three episodes, arriving towards the end of your first episode, spending your second episode travelling with the crew, and in the third episode they dropped her off on a planet to settle down after her years in captivity.

The second episode was the most fun to film, because you got to be part of the crew for a while, and interacting with the other actors helped you forget Alexander’s permanent cold shoulder.

Just as you’d filmed your first scene first, you filmed your last scene last, and you travelled out on location for the scene, which was set on the planet of Atera.

Bethany said her goodbyes to the crew as they climbed aboard the ship to set off again, waiting on board as Lazarus stayed behind to speak to her alone.

“You’re sure you won’t come with us?” he asked. “There’s so much more to see out there.”

Bethany smiled sadly and nodded. “I’m sure. I need to figure out who I am outside of a cage before I go looking for adventure. But…”

She took his hand, which was soft again - did Alexander Dane moisturise?

“I’m very glad I met you, Lazarus. I thought I was alone in the universe, but… now I know you’re out there, I won’t feel so alone anymore.”

He looked at her searchingly, almost imploringly, as if looking for a last-minute way to convince her to stay.

“I’ll miss you,” Lazarus admitted.

“I’ll miss you too. Will you visit?”

“I want to… but we don’t often return where we’ve been.”

“Oh,” Bethany said sadly, glancing away, and your heart skipped a beat when Lazarus gently put an arm around her shoulder and pointed up at a constellation in the sky.

“That’s where we’re going. Always forward. So if you do miss me… just look up. That’s where I’ll be.”

Just look up. That’s where I’ll be. Alexander had been trying fruitlessly to convince Frank to take out that cheesy line, but it had been a losing battle.

Bethany craned her neck to look into the sky, then turned to look at Alexander next to her.

“Thank you for saving me.”

Lazarus looked down at her.

“My dear, I think you may well have saved me.”

Bethany kissed his cheek and smiled sweetly. Lazarus hesitated, but he let her go and made his way to the ship.

She waved him off, and when cut was called, you thought it curious how familiar kissing Alexander on the cheek felt, as if it were something you were completely comfortable with.

Perhaps you were getting too into character.

---

You were admittedly disappointed with how unceremoniously you left the studio. You had your cap removed in the usual awkward silence with Alexander, who just grunted at you when you said goodbye.

In the theatre, you knew straight away how people felt about your performance. You’d sometimes hear reactions in the moment; otherwise, you’d receive (or not) applause at the end, and reviews were online and in the papers the very next day.

Television was different. You had signed an NDA banning you from sharing details of your character or the storyline you’d been involved in. And the episode wouldn’t air for months, so you had no way of knowing how your performance would be received.

The other strange thing was that you could watch your own performance on TV along with everyone else.

Over the months since your week on set, you’d found a role as an understudy in a production of Sweeney Todd, and in between rehearsing for three different roles and occasionally even getting to perform them, you’d made some good friends with cast and crew members, all of whom supported one another’s various attempts to make a career in LA.

So when the day came that your first episode would air, you had your friends over to watch your episode with you, many of them also fans of the show, or if not they came anyway simply to support you.

You didn’t appear until the very end of the episode, Bethany’s getaway into the Protector with Lazarus and the rest of the crew acting as cliffhanger, but it was still an incredible experience to watch yourself, in full prosthetics, acting in Galaxy Quest with Alexander Dane - who, despite being a complete jackass, was still your favourite actor.

“Oh my god, I so ship them!” your friend Stephanie, who played Johanna, crooned as soon as the credits rolled. “[Y/n], please tell me you and Lazarus get together!”

“I can’t tell you what happens, you know that!” you replied, throwing your hands up in innocence. “By pain of death. Or, well, by pain of a big payment if I was responsible for any leaks, and I can not afford that.”

“Eiw, did you have to kiss Alexander Dane though?” Stephanie gagged.

“What do you mean, eiw?”

“He’s ancient!”

“He’s not! He’s 53.”

“Don’t bother, Steph, [Y/n]'s in lurrrrve with Alexander Dane,” scoffed Mike from costume, who’d found out about your crush when you’d bonded over a shared love of Galaxy Quest while he fitted you for your Mrs Lovett costume.

“I am not! I’ll have you know he was really rude to me all week we worked together. Hardly said a word to me. He’ll always be my favourite actor, but as a person? Hard pass.”

Perhaps that pass would be hard, because as it turned out, the fans loved your character. So much so that you were invited as a late addition guest at the Galaxy Quest convention in LA two weeks after your third and final episode had aired.

You gladly accepted - you were going to go anyway as an attendee, but as a guest? That was a much better option. You gave your ticket to Mike, who almost cried with jealousy that you were being invited as a guest.

You’d never been to the convention yourself before, as it was always in LA and you’d always lived in London, but you’d always followed the posts about it online, and you knew that the actors always went in their costumes, including Alexander wearing his cap. Would you be expected to do the same? You didn’t even have your costume anymore.

You arrived at the hotel on the Friday night and checked into the room you’d been given. The guests all had rooms on one floor, separated from fans, and your room was right at the end of the corridor - no doubt the last room available as you were invited so last minute.

You’d hardly begun to unpack your suitcase when you heard a knock on the door.

You opened it, your anxiety telling you that someone was about to tell you there’d been a mix up and you weren’t invited at all, but to your relief you recognised Lena, the make-up artist.

“There she is! Thought I’d bring this over and make sure you still fit.”

She held up a coat bag, no doubt containing your costume.

“You do costume now too?” you joked as you stepped aside to let her in.

“I do at things like this - cheaper for them to send me out on my own. Have you gained or lost any weight since filming?”

“Uh - I guess I might have lost some,” you said. “I don’t really keep an eye on it. But I’ve been doing a show so that keeps me in shape.”

“Ooh, which show you in?” Lena asked, and you told her about your time understudying in Sweeney Todd while she got you out of your clothes and into your costume.

“Aw, I’d love to see you in it some time! But I suppose you never know when you’ll be on, do you? That must be so hard learning all three roles. Gosh, look at you, you have lost weight! If we were filming I’d take the waist in a bit, but since we’re just here for the con, we can get away with it.”

“Am I gonna have to wear the head thing? I know Alexander always wears his.”

Lena scoffed. “Yeah, only to lower the risk of Galaxy Quest fans recognising him outside of the show. I got it with me if you want, but you don’t have to.”

You bit your lip and thought about it. You really didn’t want to wear it, but if Alexander was wearing his, you kind of felt like you should, in solidarity.

Then again, he didn’t care about your feelings, so why should you care about his?

“May I make a suggestion?” Lena asked.

“Absolutely not, you lowly make-up artist,” you scoffed.

Lena laughed. “You should wear it. Everyone’s still buzzing about Bethany, and since you’re so new to the scene people won’t recognise you without it yet. And it’ll be super cute if you and Alexander both wear it for your photo session! Here, let’s get you out of the costume for now, I’ll come back tomorrow to put it on you proper.”

“What photo session?” you asked as you turned around to let Lena take the costume apart.

“Haven’t you seen your schedule yet?”

“I had literally been here for five seconds when you knocked on the door. I haven’t even had a piss yet, let alone looked at my timetable.”

“You and Alexander have a double photo session in the afternoon. People pay $30 each for photos with you individually, or $50 for a pic with both of you.”

“Oh, bloody hell,” you sighed.

“That’s what he said too.”

“I’m surprised he even agreed to do it. He hates sharing the spotlight - although I suppose he doesn’t feel threatened by me. Still, I’m surprised he’d agree to spend any more time in my presence than he has to.”

“He doesn’t hate you, you know,” Lena told you as you stepped out of the costume and gratefully began putting your far more comfortable, human clothes on. “He’s just a miserable bastard. He quite likes you, actually.”

You scoffed.

“He hardly spoke to me all week during filming.”

“Maybe, but after you went home each day, he’d tell me how well you did in your scenes that day. And Gwen tells me he spoke highly of your performance after your episodes aired.”

“I’m surprised he watches the show.”

“He loves to watch himself. Right, that’s me done with you for tonight. The intro panel’s at 9 and I’ve gotta get Alexander’s cap on too, so I can come by at 7.30 with some breakfast and coffee to wake you up while I get you fitted. Sound good?”

“So long as the coffee’s strong and black, you can do anything you want to me.”

“Flirt.”

Lena winked at you and left, and with the promise of a 7.30 alien head thing fitting, you decided to get an early night.

---

No amount of black coffee could have prepared you for the convention.

You were shuffled through back corridors to behind the main stage at 8.45, where you found most of the main cast were waiting, all dressed in their costumes.

“Hey, it’s [Y/n]!” Guy said cheerily when he saw you. “Man, am I glad you’re here. This is my first con too, and I’m bricking it. I’ve been to loads before as a fan, obviously, but never as a guest. I’m so nervous!”

“Oh, er, me too,” you replied, a little taken aback by Guy’s enthusiasm so early in the morning. You glanced over at the others, and noticed one body missing. “Hey, where’s Jason?”

“Running late, of course,” grunted Alexander from the chair he was slouched in, looking as miserable as ever. “He’ll show up ten minutes late on purpose, all to get that extra round of applause.”

He didn’t even look up at you to say hello.

You turned to Guy.

“Hey, when they introduce us, d’you think we could go on at the same time? Then we can power through that terrifying first entrance together. I’m terrified of walking on stage after everyone else and getting crickets chirping.”

“Oh my god, me too!” Guy said with relief. “I’m so glad you said it. Yes, let’s do it.”

Alexander snorted derisively. “What, are you scared of walking on a stage?”

”This is a little different from a theatre show,” you retorted. “In the theatre, they applaud at the end, and they applaud based on your performance. Here they’re applauding us as people, and none of them know me. Or has it been so long you forgot what theatre bows are like?”

Alexander did look at you then, his eyes narrowed, as the others chortled at your dig.

“Remind me why she’s here?” he grumbled to no one in particular.

“Because we got about 200 emails last week asking if she’d be here,” replied the convention host, who decided now was a convenient time to walk in. “Right, you guys ready to go?”

The convention passed in a whirlwind. You were hurried from panel to signing to meet and greet with hardly a chance to breathe. You met hundreds of fans, whose names you scribbled alongside your signature then promptly forgot, and you took every chance you had to remind the fans you were talking to that you were one of them.

In the afternoon came your photo session with Alexander, and finally you got a moment of peace when you entered the room ten minutes before the fans were to be let in - although, you suspected, they were already lining up outside.

While the crew got the backdrop ready, you collapsed into a chair with a sigh of relief.

“You still have a day and a half to go, you know,” said a familiar voice.

You looked up to see Alexander leaning up against the wall, looking at you with amusement.

“I didn’t think so many people would want to see me,” you said honestly. “Sure I didn’t have a line like you guys had, but mine still didn’t stop. I think I’ve met more people this morning than I have in my entire life.

Alexander scoffed. “Yep, and they’ll be back tomorrow, expecting you to remember them all individually.”

“How many have asked you to say that line?”

“Too fucking many. How many have asked if you’re coming back?”

“Pretty much everyone.”

“What have you been telling them?”

“That Alexander Dane’s a twat and will probably refuse to work with me again.”

He laughed, but he didn’t deny it. He sighed, then came to sit by you.

“Look, I know I’m a twat. I’ll try to make this tolerable for you.”

“Gee, thanks. No one’s forcing you to do this with me. Couldn’t you have just said you didn’t wanna do a double shoot?”

“Actually… it was my idea.”

Now that surprised you. You looked at him questioningly, and he sighed.

“Look, Gwen always hates these things, alright? Blokes are always trying to touch her. It happens less when a man is there, as stupid as that is, so Jason or I usually do a double shoot with her.”

“And you thought they might do the same with me?”

Alexander shrugged. “Sure, why not? These basement dwellers don’t know how to act around a woman - add the fact you’re gorgeous and all hope is lost. So let me know if you’re uncomfortable, alright?”

You nodded, hoping Lena had caked you in enough make-up to hide your blush at the fact he’d called you gorgeous.

As it turned out, Alexander was right - fans really did have wandering hands. After the third narrowly avoided grope, you pulled Alexander aside before the next fan stepped up.

“Alex, that’s three guys who’ve tried to grab my arse already,” you whispered. “What do I do?”

“What? Who?”

Alexander looked around as if the groping fans might still be lingering, but they’d long been ushered away by event staff.

“I told you, [Y/n], you need to tell me when it happens.”

“What am I supposed to do? Shout ‘hey, everybody, this guy’s grabbing my arse’? That’s so embarrassing.”

Alexander thought for a moment.

“Alright, when it happens, you poke me with two fingers. I’ll pretend I noticed it myself.”

“Oh, planning non-verbal cues already, are we?” you joked, the words out of your mouth before you could stop yourself.

He snorted and rolled his eyes.

“Trust me, [Y/n] - if we fucked, I’d make sure you were very vocal.”

Your cheeks burned for the second time in that hour, but you had to push your sudden explicit thought about Alexander to the side, because you had two more hours to go of this torture.

Most of it went by without any more unwanted groping, but you were nearly at the end of the queue when one ball of sweat dressed in a very poorly made copy of Alexander’s costume placed his hand firmly on your rear.

You froze for a moment, then remembered to poke Alexander with two fingers. His head immediately whipped around and he looked down to see the fan’s hand far lower than it should be.

Alexander may be grumpy all the time, but there was a difference between grump and anger. He was never really angry unless he was acting - but he certainly wasn’t acting now.

You were fairly certain you didn’t even know half the swear words that came out of his mouth as he yelled at the fan. A brave staff member tried to intervene, but Alexander simply turned his vitriol to them, yelling at them for not making the event safer for female guests.

He ended his rant by ushering you along with him as he stormed out, and you felt a mixture of emotions - relief to be out of there, guilt for the fans still in line, and a bit (okay, maybe a lot) of arousal at Alexander defending you.

“Prats,” he cursed bitterly as the door closed behind you, leaving the two of you alone in the corridor. He turned to you. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you replied awkwardly, not really sure if you were being honest. “Thanks for, um, rescuing me.”

Alexander pursed his lips, his nostrils flaring as he shot a dark look back at the door.

“You got anything else on this afternoon?” he asked you.

“No, that was my last thing.”

“Do you want to go back to my room and raid the minibar? I usually get pissed on the agency’s credit card alone, but I guess you wouldn’t be the worst company.”

“That almost sounded like a compliment.”

“Make the most of it. Come on, I know a way upstairs we can go to avoid being seen.”

Alexander led you up to the floor you were all staying on, and you were halfway down the corridor to his room when your path was suddenly intercepted by Jane Doe, one of the new cast members for the reboot.

“Hello!” she announced cheerily, grinning at you both.

“Lal - er, Jane, what are you doing here?” Alexander said with confusion. “I thought you couldn’t make it this weekend.”

“It is my birthing day! We are having a party. You are coming too.”

Alexander glanced at you. “Oh - er - we’ll miss this one, actually. But happy… birthing day.”

He tried to step around her, but she simply followed his path, still grinning.

Apparently she was as strange as her character.

“You are coming!” Jane insisted.

She held something up in her hand and pressed a button, and your world went black.

#alexander dane #galaxy quest #alan rickman #alexander dane x reader

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thoughtsforsoob · 1 month

Note

my birthday is coming up! can i please request smut with seonghwa and mingi (bcs its his birthday too! we share the same birthday 🥳)

- 🐰

a/n: happy birthday 🐰 anon !! I hope you have a good one and I hope this piece compensates as a good birthday gift 🩷 I hope your birthday was not too bad (that asshole you told me about sucks. don’t let him ruin your day! stink men don’t deserve the time of day) please enjoy!!

Mingi and seonghwa were never the first people you would think of when you try to think of members with similar interest. They both just kind of went on their own path. For example, Seonghwa loved his LEGO’s and Mingi loved playing video games/watching anime. One thing they could agree on though, was how much they adored you.

You were just a friend to them. You happened to work for them as a staff member for this world tour they were on. You were in charge of getting them from place to place, keeping them in line and helping during shows. They enjoyed your presence so much. The two men were particularly fond of you and would always fight over you. You found their bickering endearing but never took it deeply. Of course you thought they were just joking. Idols never go for staff but this case was very different.

Since the tour had started and you began working with them, they’d been plotting a way to get you into bed with them. Now that the final show was approaching and you’d go back to work with other groups, they needed to put their plan into action. It all started after the last show. The whole staff and the members got together for a nice dinner at a privately reserved restaurant. Of course, the two members took up all your attention the whole time and were practically tripping over their own feet to make you laugh. You just went along with it and gave them the attention they wanted. Besides, you’d grown to enjoy their company. You’d miss them a lot once you were gone. All came to an end after about three hours of talking and eating and drinking. You escorted the boys back to their room that they happened to be sharing together. Before leaving from their front door, they offered to bring you inside to drink some more and hang out. You hesitated because you could get in big trouble but how could you deny them? They’d been so sweet and kind to you that you felt awful saying no.

You went in and had a drink with them. Everything was all fun and giggles when you noticed that they both had their big, dreamy hands on your thighs. You tried not to make a big deal out of it but it was starting to make you feel stuff you didn’t think you should feel about them. At some point, the conversation died down and mingi was the first one to speak up about the situation. “So, y/n. Thank you for keeping us together for this tour. It’s means a lot. There’s just something we’ve been meaning to tell you about.” Seonghwa immediately chimes in, “yeah. This may come as a shock but we’re both really into you. We’ve been fighting over you this whole time but we decided not to fight anymore because we could just give you both our attention.” You’re sitting there…unsure of what to say to them. Mingi started to talk again, “so…before you leave us for good, we wanted to ask you something. Would you be interested in sleeping with us?” You immediately started to blush bright red. “S-sleep with you two? I’d love you but won’t I get in trouble? I don’t wanna get in trouble. I like this job.” You frowned and the boys immediately made you smile again. “Of course not! We’d never get you in trouble. We’re asking you for this. Please? Sleep with us? We promise we’ll show you pleasure you’ve never experienced before.” Seonghwa looked at you with his big, beautiful eyes and you just could deny him. You nodded and they looked so excited.

They started by having you strip out of your clothes and they did the same. They offered to let you shower and the three of you stepped into the very spacious shower. While cleaning up, a lot of deep, passionate kissing ensued. Mingis kisses were slopping and desperate and seonghwas kisses were gentle yet meaningful. Both kisses being very fulfilling and enjoyable. You three were finally clean and were able to get out and dry off. They didn’t even let you put on clothes because they wanted to get right to work. Mingi picked you up and set you on their big bed. They picked the biggest option they could in anticipation for this day (calking for the win). Seonghwa practically pushed mingi out of the way for the space between your legs. He pulled your legs over his broad shoulders and looked up at you. “Is this okay? Can I eat you out? You just look so delectable.” You nodded and he dove right in. Out of jealously, mingi got on the bed and started to kiss you and play with your nipples. These combined sensations made you beak out in moans. They enjoyed listening to your noises. After he was fed up, mingi made seonghwa trade with him to be fair. Mingi eat you out the same we he kissed you, messy and desperate. Saliva and slick were all over his face, making you even more wet at the sight. He didn’t even let you cum, wanting you on his cock before you were allowed to cum.

You started to get restless and that’s when you really began to take some charge. You turned around towards seonghwa, wanting him to go first. “Please? I need you inside. You can be first. Please?” You gave him your best big shiny eyes and he folded, not needing you to beg at all. Mingi moved so that seonghwa could have his way. He ask mingi to grab him a condom and he did. Seonghwa ripped it open with his teeth and slid it on. You whimped while watching him and he smirked, “you liked that, pretty girl? Don’t worry. Im going to take such good care of you right now. If something hurts, you’re gonna tell me. Okay?” You nodded up at him. You three went through picking a safe word and everything was squared away.

Seonghwa started but slowly pushing into your wet entrance. He started to hiss and you were whimpering. “Fuck! You feel so damn good! So good for me. Right?” You nodded and look at him, feeling the pain subside. “Mm please this feels so good. Thank you! Thank you!” Out of instinct you reach up to him and wrap your arms around his shoulders. He found the action endearing and let you hold onto him. Mingi watched the whole time, fucking his fist and moaning. You turned to look at him and smiled, enjoying watching how he touched himself. Seonghwa took his time with you and when you both were getting close, he warned you. “Fuck, I’m going to cum. Please? You’re gonna cum with me, pretty girl?” You nod, “mhm please let me cum! I’ve been so good!” He pulls you close and you do the same, finally cumming together. When you both finished, you laid down and panted but mingi didn’t give you much of a chance e to recover. You cried out when he jumped on top of you pushed himself inside you. The size difference was very noticeable to you and it made you feel the pain again. “Fuck! I can’t!” You cried and mingi just smirked, loving how you were complaining about his size. He gently caressed your cheek and tried his best to make you feel comfortable. “Does it hurt too much? Poor thing.” You look up at him with tears in your eyes and shake your head, “no please! Keep going. I want it.” You begged him and he continued. He fucked you at a quick pace, leaving your tummy with an ache afterwards. He just went in so deep and so fast. He finished a little quicker than seonghwa, moaning loudly when he finally came, making sure to let you cum also.

When all was said and done, they both laid there with you, taking care of you. Their aftercare combined was the best. They made sure you drank plenty of water and got some snacks in you. You also cleaned you up super gently. They don’t just want to fuck you and have it over with. They never did. They knew you deserved way better than that. “So, you aren’t just going to leave us, are you?” Seonghwa asked with a cute little pout. You shake your head and held onto him. “Nope. Not right now at least. I probably can’t walk always so I’m here for now.” They both laughed along with you and mingi scooted closer to you to snuggle you also. You enjoyed their affection. They were so sweet to you and made sure you were comfortable before falling asleep. You were going to miss them and they were going to miss you also. Hopefully you wouldn’t have to miss them too much because they planned to beg their management to recruit you into their company.

#ateez reactions #ateez seonghwa #ateez mingi #mingi smut #seonghwa smut #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #ateez x reader #ateez smut #ateez fanfic #ateez fic #ateez

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fumifooms · 4 months

Text

Namalin

Namari x Falin

Easy short rarepair spotlight post for prosperity~ This one I didn’t think of on my own for once, I don’t know if it’s just I forgot the decided-on ship name or what but I remember seeing really nice art and a couple posts about it that I can’t find again 💔 Namalin warrior you are out there and not forgotten ty for making me see the light

I like that Namari’s critical of Falin! I have a whole character analysis on Falin if you’re interested, but it’s generally well noticed that people around Falin idealize her a lot. Laios, Marcille and Toshiro all put her on a pedestral of ultimate goodness in the world, a saintess if nothing short of perfection. Sounds like Chilchuck felt sort of creeped out by her vibes, uncomfortable because he couldn’t read her, so unlike Namari it seems he preferred steering clear of her rather than debate opposed ideologies like he usually does. Makes sense if unlike Namari his issue is with her cryptic aura rather than the stances she does show. "… The dungeon is no place for soft hearts" my ultimate namalin scene <333 It’s fun because while this scene is there to show us a lot of things, mostly to establish Falin’s characters better as it’s the first flashback of her we get, the conflict in it is more than anything else Falin vs Namari in how they contrast and clash and approach situations differently. Namari wants security in swift effective violence and thinks Falin too soft for her own good when she prefers a pacifist approach and promotes compassion even for the "undeserving" in Namari’s eyes. Falin steps between the battle ready Namari and the ghost, fearless. Falin effortlessly gently exorcises the ghost without one step back, quickly. Falin proves someone wrong. Falin proves someone wrong.

I love thinking of Namari being surprised when she learns new aspects of Falin. I like Falin having the power to shape people’s views on her. With Falin ships the most fun part for me is usually that point where Falin/the relationship becomes a clean slate: the person realizes they haven’t been seeing all of her, realizes there’s more of her they hadn’t noticed or that she hadn’t shown, that there’s change, a shift in the views on each other and the dynamic a bit.

Namari often feels like an external view looking in to me… I need to make a proper analysis on her but like. I made a lamari post once (analytic more than personally invested rip sorry) and I go with the same Namari take here, I think she’s someone who tends to have an outsider view on people and relationships if that makes sense, she’s a coworker before anything else and she’s content staying at a distance, she’s not objective per se but she tries to keep feelings out of her choices and how she sees people (her lil arc on not staying to save Falin despite the existing camaderie but in the end asking to work for the Flokes more because she wants to stay with them). She’s serious no nonsense on the job but friendly off the job and likes having casual friends, but she’s not… She doesn’t really feel connected to the group. She’s so focused on doing her job, even if she does get impulsive and passionate and too assertive for her bosses’ tastes, so focused on working her reputation and life from the ground up that that professionalism and attitude limits her social life. It doesn’t help that her reputation makes her widely judged, so she probably enters social spaces on the derensive. The closest person she was to pre-canon as far as we knew was Chilchuck and even they have a very "coworker I get along with" dynamic more than friends, with a similar sense of boundaries, humor and world view. Also like canon says a few time, the party didn’t really try to get to know each other well pre-canon, didn’t hang out after work often no one knew where Marcille was from and no one thought that was weird (also how no one had the instinct to ask about Senshi’s past) etc, the notable exception is we’re shown Namari and Chilchuck hitting taverns together and having a grand time. Everyone’s fine with things as they are, they get along decent even if not everyone considers each other friends exactly. Where I’m getting at is that to me, it feels like she tries keeping emotional distance. Emotional distance from people in general being something which in my interpretation of Falin is also present, which would make it a theme and common thread interesting to explore imo. But yes like, Namari looking at Falin, and how everyone treats her, and being more skeptical, seeing her for what she is a little more, maybe even uncharitable. "Why is everyone treating her like she’s all that? She’s gentle sure but seems like a doormat to me" and then one day she comes running up with her mace ready to cave in someone’s face to protect Laios. So yeah… Keeping her distance but one day Falin offering her some gentleness that feels very too personal for someone who’s not used to being genuine and simply showing that they care… Them talking a bit which leaves her stumped and mindblown in a quiet way when Falin defies her expectations. Namari growing on Falin when she stays and decides to open herself up more, or when Falin ends up reading her really well like she’s shown to do with her parents and Marcille’s worries. She’s very attuned to worrying and why and when different people do it especially when it comes to when they worry for others, perhaps because she does a lot of that too, so I think she’d nail down how Namari does care for the rest of the party and it’d make Namari feel seen both in a warm validating way and in a scared naked way.

We see in the tentacles chapter that she’s someone’s who’s very protective and looks out for her peers in a tough love way. She’s overbearing but it’s because she wants everyone to have the best chances. I like that she’s very confrontational and somewhat pushy and rude, but it’s tough love, it’s protective care: asserting herself to better protect and defend. The opposite of Falin’s type of care, quiet and self-sacrificial devotion. They’re barbarian x healer but they’re also bodyguard x bodyguard in their attitude and role. … What I want for them is slow burn slice of life of being coworkers and slowly getting to know each other better, pretty fluffy, but god, put this way they’d have the potential to be such a hot layered mess of insanely mutually devoted codependence… Falin taking a hit for Namari and Namari being scarred by it forever, lots of arguments about it, my god.

I like that she’s the fighter to Falin’s healer. I looove thinking of scenes of Falin healing Namari, necessitating touch and like, a moment of slowing down and sitting together in silence, too intimate, the perfect opportunity to connect that neither truly want to take until one day they do. I love how onesided I imagine the relationship would be at first. Again, as per my interpretation of Falin, I think Namari would have all these little observations and opinions on Falin meanwhile Falin really doesn’t think of Namari much at first. So Namari thinks a lot about Falin and thinks she’s got her pinned down but hasn’t (not that she’s fully wrong, she’d have credit and confront Falin on some of her flaws like the doormat thing), while Falin is very passive about Namari and doesn’t think deeply about her or anything but she read Namari’s insecurities and logic well. Not unlike how Laios was the one who seemed to understand Namari’s way of care the best in the party in the tentacles episode, and how he was very understanding of her choice and reasons. In Falin’s case it’s more like, the objectivity of passivity… She cares about Namari less than Laios who generally seeks to form bonds, so her lack of investment allows her a neutral perspective. In that way another parallel with Namari that I’m drawing, except Namari lets feelings from her opinions seeps in more… Onesided beef my beloved. I’m going insane save me this post was a mistake. I think Falin takes the crumbs of friendship and love where she can without expecting or asking for anything more than what’s offered, and I think her relationship with Namari (or anyone really) would start out the way it did with Marcille: the other takes the initiative and they end up spending time together, Falin is friendly but unattached until the bond gets gradually and wordlessly strenghtened through regularly spending moments together. So! I think Namari would need to take a lot of the first steps, which since again she’s confrontational & argumentative and doesn’t hold herself back on that front that could spark a lot of conversations I think. Ooor since Falin cares about Namari less than Laios and Marcille she allows herself to be bolder herself lol. Or also circumstances force them to spend time together like dungeon party getting separated shenanigans.

I think their personalities match cutely, I think falin would try to protect namari like she does others but also Namari simply doesn’t need protection, just support. And I think they’re complementary in that way that Namari’s friendly but also won’t sugarcoat things, and I think if she takes an interest in Falin it could go from there and she could develop some understanding of her and idk like an intrigued crush….

Namari wants stability & security & to, like, not be judged and rejected and exiled lol, to find her nest her pack the place where she feels good and wanted in. I think having a fitting partner would help in that (similarly to how the found family with the Flokes seemed to. Oh another parallel, Falin’s top priority is protecting Laios her brother and what Namari are a family figure) and I think Falin would fulfill that cozy protection and that warm ‘being seen and not judged’ feeling. But also Namari would run up to her and yell about her trying to sacrifice herself ever.

Another fun thread to explore: post-canon guilt for not having gone to save her. Sure, they weren’t close, but they had some nice memories, didn’t they? Namari cares, and it stings despite herself when it feels like people think she doesn’t. Oh it wasn’t a lost cause after all, oh it’d have worked out, oh I could have stayed loyal and it wouldn’t have compromised myself in the end. Wanting to apologize to Falin, or just ahnging out with her and sharing a moment after she wakes up. And tangent but that’s interesting to think about… Narratively, I think the purpose of Namari and Toshiro in the story, beyond strenghtening the theme of "seek to understand what is different from you and promote unity despite them" and fleshing the cast and worldbuilding, is Toshiro’s purpose was being a foil & tool in Laios’ arc (trouble connecting with people) while Namari’s was being and a foil & tool in Marcille’s arc (standing up for ideals without being out of touch with harsh realities and needs). They are the conflict that push our protagonists to grow— and they explore different ways of dealing with a situation or topic, different ways of growing into themselves on that end: Laios needing to listen to others more and Toshiro needing to focus on voicing himself more to be able to connect, Marcille needing to learn ideals sometimes cost too much and Namari needing to internalize that ideals are sometimes worth risks (not only to be able to find a reasonable but fulfilling life balance, but also to get in touch with their compassion: Namari restricts her own too much and Marcille is too harsh on people she deems to be breaking values, like Namari not risking her life and career for a friend with no promise of success, or even like how Namari is harsh on Falin’s way of doing things : too gentle, too soft, too idealistic) (similarly to Chilchuck’s arc with Marcille too, and he also plays a hand in advancing that arc in the Namari chapters). We are getting far from namalin sorry ummm preview for future analyses like Toshiro’s contrasting approach to grief and accepting loss.

More post-canon namalin! Thinking about a timeline where… Namari is fond of Falin finding herself and going off to do her thing. "Finally!" she thinks. If she’s still for hire, maybe Falin would want her to come along, either as guide or bodyguard <3, she knows Namari has a lot of good avice on a lot of things to give, plus they’ve worked together before. She hires Namari and they travel for a bit. Travel would do Namari good too I think, even if her end goal is to settle and I think Falin’s would be too eventually. Seeing sights that light her wonder for the world and going places where people don’t know her story, don’t recognize her face or her name. Them, feeling free. Finding a companionship that feels uplifting instead of stifling or charged. Namari having been too in her head about reputation and social games and money that they hit the roads and spend time in nature and it’s like, woah. I’ve been living in a small world with made up rules.

Ahh yes romance, Namari and Falin kissing after 3 years of not really knowing each other despite seeing each other every day then 2 months of wanting to spend more and more time together until they’re an inseparable duo! Workwives. I want them to stand next to each other during campire time and Namari cracks little jokes and Namari laughs. I want Namari to gift Falin a bug caught in amber and for it to be their wedding/promised to each other thing.

TLDR

Rowdy but levelheaded barbarian x gentle healer that will also cave your face in with a mace I like it…… They’re an interesting duo of mixed stuff. Protection being your purpose and what you’re worth for, literally being a meat shield (Laios, Tansu), finding your individuality recognized and validated through a growing bond with the other. Sticking around as a love language. Also bug immortalized in amber and it being beautiful.

Nevermind this wasn’t short. Um! Anyways.

#Dunmeshi rarepairs #Namalin #Namari x falin #Falin x namari #Spoilers #Dungeon meshi manga spoilers #Bc of a chapter cover + post-canon talk #Namari #falin touden #Dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon #Gotta make a namari analysis eventually. Maybe. One day. Tough skinned girl bc she’s been burned and reputation is v important #who cares but caring doesn’t put food on the plate. Who’s an outcast and foreigner and doesn’t have a home to go back to #It’s the hustle life. Idk what it is about the Floke that made her want to stay but that’s why i wanna look at the tansu party eventually #Namarlin ot3 is so good as well… esp if it focuses on namari #Namari is poly i know it in my heart #Also YES I know there’s 1 namarlin/namalin fic out there i haven’t read it. Yes i will. I just haven’t been reading much lately #Oh on that note -types up new post-#Analysis #character analysis #relationship analysis #meta #Holding my head #Complementary ships with conflict and character arcs i love you #Watch fumi’s brain melt live #Fumi rambles #I need to go lay face down on the floor now #This sure is what I was supposed to take away from the canon text!#TAKE IT OFF MY HANDSSS TAKE IT AWAY FROM ME I NEED TO ACTUALLY GO DO CHORES #Namari betting Falin would reject Shuro but going “no comment -looks away-” when asked why…

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sailorgundam308 · 5 months

Note

how you end up with your fav ship?

Oh god. Honestly, it creeped into me in an unintentional but sure way.

First time I played I didn’t know about the origins at all and went in with a “no prejudice/expectations” vibe. Romanced Astarion because he propositioned my tav first. My tav was a… buff berserker barbarian. Met Karlach only when I was almost leaving act 1 cause I couldn’t find her. When I did I was like “OMG ANOTHER foul mouthed, strong, barb lady!”

She quickly became one of my faves. However I truly thought I had fucked up her questline when it ended at the start of act 2. So I was kinda “no, it can’t be JUST this?!” sort of horrified and began an origin run with her to see for myself if her questline was actually that short and lame.

So even before I finished with my tav I was already playing Karlach. And as I played her I noticed more how she and Astarion interacted and how similar their traumas were despite how their appearances/body language/background differed. The contrasts and similarities struck me like a goddamn truck. I realized I was already noticing that in my original tav play, and things started falling into place.

The fact that they see eye to eye on some things, but not on others - in ways that you wouldn’t expect- and their dynamic being complicated, gritty, and so SO layered is insanely interesting to me. The more you dig the more layers and depth you find. It’s like, a ship that keeps on giving.

Also, there’s the “fuck your heteronormative expectations” of their relationship. Heard some folks say theirs is a “straight” relationship and, honestly, that’s so absurd I have no interest in replying. Also, if you are looking at them through a CONFORMING (or, to be honest, gay-but-heteronormative) lens, you will read Karlach as masculine - as a butch lesbian or whatever - because of her body language and appearance. The exact same labeling occurs with Astarion, who, if seen through a similarly heteronormative-coded gay lens, is a “twink”, who in a conforming gay world would be expected not only to be gay but to pair up with a bigger guy and be a bottom.

As a bisexual person, all this reads wrong to me. Both characters are pan. And I hate these heteronormative labelings especially when based off someone’s appearance. I like pairings who’ll breaking those expectations and Astarion and Karlach romancing each other throws not only the “straights” but the heteronormative code that pervades the queer community into a loop.

TLDR: it was because of SPITE and NUANCE

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #karlach #astarion #astarion x karlach #karlach x astarion #hellspawn #starlach #astarlach #fireblood #icyhot #anon ask #if you let me I’ll talk about them all day #forgot to mention #they have the best asses in the game #so they deserve to be together

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 6 months

Note

Hey headmage! You know that one question all teachers will get in their life...

Tell us about your first love!

*eager looking eyes*

I wrote this one in a somewhat vague manner aka it's to throw a bone at the "Crowley is Malleus's dad" theorists out there www; it's up to the reader to interpret it as they please; it isn’t meant to refer to one specific character.

Enter; An Unkindness of Ravens.

Crowley regarded you with a careful, uncharacteristically patient look—as if picking apart your soul and the fine layers that sheathed it. You were an open book, so wide-eyed and eager to learn of young, blossoming love.

“Feeling daring today, are we?” he chuckled lowly. “What naughty students I have, sticking their noses where they don't belong."

Crowley swung one leg over the other, crossing them as he reclined into his armchair. "As it happens, I am feeling more generous than usual today, so I will humor your request."

Your ears perked. You arched over his desk, primed to listen intently.

"Once upon a time, in a land far, far away... I found myself at a grand palace hosting a ball. Where, you may ask? I cannot say. However, it is only natural for important people in high places, such as myself, to be invited to these sorts of functions.

“Often it is political matters and power struggles at play—dull subjects to children, I'm sure. I happened to take an interest in the cuisine they were serving that evening, and so I made an appearance."

Crowley paused dramatically.

"Little did I know, that was where I would happen upon... Well, surely you understand who I am referring to?"

“Your first love?” you squeaked.

“I noticed them immediately. Call it ‘love at first sight’ if you wish.

“Their presence was far too powerful to be contained within that room. It was a quiet kind of strength, like the roiling of thunder before a storm arrives in full. Oh, but it wasn’t just their aura alone. No, no, they also boasted great beauty, grace, and intelligence!! And yet…”

“And yet…?”

“They were alone.” Crowley spoke the word quietly, as though it were cursed. “… I suppose it happens. People who stand too high in the world are lonely there, frightening off those unworthy to be in their presence. I understood, of course, being in a similar position myself, so I sought to offer my kind hand to console them. It is in my nature as an educator to serve as a bridge between people."

“You made the first move,” you gasped, your cheeks warming. Scandalous.

“I paraded right up and introduced myself! And—can you believe this—they gave me the cold shoulder, then attempted to scare me and shoo me off!! But I certainly didn’t quit. I fetched them punch, I sang them sweet serenades, I cracked jokes of the highest caliber… all so that they would look my way, even to spare a passing glance.”

“So you were a simp.” Somehow, it fit perfectly with your current understanding of Crowley.

He bristled at the casual accusation. "I wouldn't say that--"

"Definitely a simp," you repeated.

"Y-You may think whatever you like, but the fact is that my efforts eventually bore fruit!!" Crowley declared proudly, his chest puffed out. "They gazed at me and remarked that I was ' a strange one'!"

"That doesn't exactly sound like a compliment..."

"Perhaps not," he laughed lightly, "but it was that one comment that served as my foot in the door. Before long, we were chatting like old friends. They smiled--because of me. For me."

His voice warbled, wobbling with sentiment as the painted the scene. You could almost see it now: Crowley, tall, dark, handsome--but bumbling--courting a frigid noble. Breaking their barrier, melting that ice.

Like something out of a fairy tale, you think. A distant royal falling in love with their messenger bird.

"We laughed and talked all evening. We shared food and a dance. We never wanted the clock to strike midnight."

Crowley sighed wistfully, dragging a talon across his desk—as if marking another year apart from his beloved. "They truly were… the apple of my eye, my flower of evil."

"Did they return your feelings, headmaster?" you asked, leaning closer. Completely enraptured by his tale. “Whatever happened to them, anyway…?"

“Ah, now that,” Crowley tutted, wagging a finger, “is a story I shall keep to myself.”

“W-Wait," you protested, slapping a hand on the desk, "you’re really going to leave me off on a cliffhanger like this?! You were just getting to the juiciest part!"

“I believe I’ve already divulged far more than the average student needs to know of a teacher's love life," the headmaster replied. "You may use your imagination to fill in the rest of the gaps! It shouldn't be a challenge, seeing as you are quite familiar with my charm, fufufu."

"Does that mean you did get together after all? Were you actually married this whole time and we never knew? Do you have kids?!" you pressed. Each question became increasingly conspiratorial--but you were 100% serious, 100% committed to the bid.

"I'm afraid not, Prefect! You must make do with what you currently have."

"What I have isn’t enough," you groaned deeply. "Urgh, PLEASE answer me, headmaster...! I need to know, or I'll combust!"

#twisted wonderland #twst #Dire Crowley #twst interactions #twisted wonderland interactions #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #Reader #self insert #Two Ravens at the Writing Desk

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orqheuss · 7 months

Text

How to ask for help - PART 2

(Ominis/GN!Reader FLUFF)

Part: 1 2 3 4 5 6

Summary:

The five times you helped Ominis, and the one time he helped you. *** You take Ominis for a spin.

Word count: 6.4k

Part 2: Flyin' Blind

March, 4th year

It wouldn’t be until months later that you had a moment to talk to Ominis. It wasn’t that you were avoiding each other— quite the opposite on your end, actually. Unfortunately, you just ran in different circles. Well, you did in a sense. He was often found with Sebastian, and those two disappeared to random corners of the school at any chance they got. You, on the other hand, lacking as you were in the friend department, spent a majority of your time flying around the Scottish Highlands. It was freeing to you, to be that far away from the castle and, in turn, away from the responsibilities of being a student at Hogwarts. You had been in school before your Hogwarts letter arrived, along with the estimable Professor Fig to explain the magical world to you and your muggle parents, but never had you gone somewhere so…interesting. For somewhere considered the “safest school in the Wizarding World,” it sure was, decidedly, not that.

Currently, you had just returned from your flight to Upper Hogsfield and were doing laps around one of the more dangerous spots, the Astronomy wing. That tower in itself was quite precariously built, let alone the sheer height of it and how easy it would be to climb over the railings. You loved it, though; it was the perfect spot to practice tight turns and barrel rolls. That is, until a student at the very top calls out to you and nearly knocks you to your death.

“Nice flying, lily pad!”

You yelped in surprise, grabbing tightly to the broomstick under you and willing it to a screeching halt, casting a scathing glare to the boy who scared you silly.

Sebastian Sallow lowered his hand from where it was raised in a wave, his face morphing into a bashful look of regret— a very similar face to the one he made when you first met.

“Sorry…” he said, an apologetic smile creasing his face.

As you flew closer to him, you heard a second voice come from his right. “Honestly, Sebastian. Because calling out to them went so well last time.”

In your fright, you didn’t notice one Ominis Gaunt on the other side of the boy, his hair lightly ruffled by the freshly spring breeze and dislodging his normally perfect quiff. They were both dressed smartly in their casual weekend clothes— a starched cream button down with rolled sleeves under a forest green sweater vest and pressed dark brown corduroys for Ominis, and a patchwork brown sweater tucked into black trousers for Sebastian. Your heart gave a little lurch at how nice the blond looked outside of uniform.

Strange, you thought to yourself. That was a reaction you hadn’t felt before.

The troublesome brunette smiled again as you reached them, his arms now resting on the railing of the tower in a similar position as his counterpart, letting his body lean slightly over the edge. His hand bumped against Ominis’ clasped together ones.

“Oh hush,” he mused. “Here they are, safe as life.”

The blond snorted but didn’t say anything, just fondly rolled his eyes at his best friend.

You cocked your eyebrow at Sebastian, joining the conversation from your perched position in the air. “What did you call me, Sallow?” You nodded in greeting to the other boy. “Hello, Ominis.”

He nodded in return, beaming at the sound of your voice.

The brunette jokingly winced, clutching at his chest like you personally hurt him. “Reduced to last names only? You wound me, lily pad.” He relaxed again, laughing at your confused face. “Well, seeing as you fell into a pond when we first met, I thought it was an apropos nickname, don’t you think?”

You looked at him with amusement, gesturing with your head towards the quiet blond boy. “Ominis was the one with the plant on his head, not me.”

The Slytherin in question groaned, dropping his chin towards his chest. “Don’t remind me.”

“That is true,” the freckled teen said. “But Ominis would hex me where I stand if I dared call him that.”

“And what makes you think I won’t do just that?” You smiled now, big and bright against the sunny sky as you goaded him on.

“A chaotic sense of trust and a normally accurate read on people's true intentions?” He joked. “That, and I know that my friend here wouldn’t let anything bad happen to me.” He slung his arm across the grinning boy’s shoulders, flashing you a cheeky grin of his own.

Ominis picked up Sebastian’s arm by the sleeve, his forefinger and thumb pinched around the fabric as he dropped it back to his side with a wrinkle of his nose. “On the contrary,” he teased. “I think I’d let them. Could take you down a peg.”

You liked this side of him, you decided. The humorous side. The carefree side. It was much better than the prickly pine of a boy that you met by the Greenhouses.

Sebastian’s mouth dropped in shock as he laughed, a smile still tweaking the corners of his lips. “Et tu, Brute?”

The blond chuckled, “Don’t quote Shakespeare to me when you barely remember the plot of the play, you swot.”

“I remember it enough to know a betrayal when I see one.”

“Anyway—” you cut in, stopping their banter before it got too far along. “What are you two doing up here on this fine day?”

Ominis jumped at the sound of your voice, forgetting you were there for a moment. You watched that lovely shade of red cross his nose and cheeks for the second time since meeting him, a smirk of your own growing on your face as you saw him look to the side, smiling bashfully.

You would dissect the fact you just called him lovely later.

The brunette sighed contentedly as a breeze blew through the valley. “Just enjoying the beautiful weather for once.”

He looked to his side, catching sight of the last dregs of color painting the tips of his friends' ears. An idea seemed to spark to life in his mind, his eyes flicking between the blushing blond and the stupid, proud smile turning your mouth. His own carefree grin stretched mischievously.

“Say…” he drawled. “I was just talking to Ominis about teaching him how to fly. Kogawa just kind of left him alone in first year when she taught the basics.”

The lithe Gaunt frowned in confusion. “No you weren’t. You were talking about how pretty Poppy looked—”

“But—” Sebastian cut him off. “Since you already have your broom out, and you seem more than capable, maybe you could help him figure it out.”

Ominis stuttered at the notion, his eyes widening once he picked up what his roommate was trying to do. “Sebastian wait—” He turned to you, looking quite like a gasping fish, opening and closing his mouth as he searched for the right words. “You—you don’t have to do that—”

“I’d love to.” You cut him off.

He stilled, shoulders relaxing minutely. Perhaps this wouldn’t be too bad for him. “Oh. Um— are you sure? I-It may be a lot of work—”

You cut him off again, that smile that hadn’t left your face since joining him atop the tower still evident in your voice. “I would love to teach you how to fly, Ominis.”

He let his own smile finally return then, a soft thing that made your heart feel strange, warm, almost, in your chest. “Okay. Thank you.” His voice was soft when he spoke— sweet like a melody.

Silently, you took back what you said to yourself earlier. You liked this side of him more. The shy, entirely too cute for his own good, side.

Sebastian clapped him on the back, dissolving the strange, but comforting, tension that was brewing between you and the pretty blond. “See? Everything worked out.” He simpered, triumphant, before speaking directly to Ominis. “You’re in good hands, my friend.”

He tilted his head towards you then, his voice raising so you could hear better. “Right, lily pad?”

You nodded, saluting him with two fingers. “Sir, yes sir.”

Ominis chuckled, directing his next words towards where you were still hovering. “Meet you by the quidditch pitch? Half an hour?”

His heart stuttered at how tender your voice was when you replied, like your words were just for him to hear. “See you there.”

He nodded at you in farewell, turning on the balls of his feet and walking towards the spiral stairs, the red tip of his wand blinking through the shadows. You watched him go, that stupid, dopey grin making its way back on your face as you thought about what it would be like to spend time with him— alone.

Sebastian cleared his throat, drawing your mind away from the pleasant images of Ominis’ charming disposition and towards the brunette’s smug, annoying sneer.

“What?” You asked, irritation leaking into your tone at that troublesome look in his eyes.

“Nothing! Nothing.” He held up his hands placatingly, backing away from the railing finally and turning in the direction that his friend had just left in— his Cheshire smirk somehow got wider, stretching his cheeks almost unnaturally. The brunette called over his shoulder to you as he walked away, “Have fun!”

The first thing you saw once your feet touched the ground in front of the quidditch pitch was Ominis dressed to the nines in a cocoon of padding. You held in your snickers as you took him in in all his glory, observing first the knee pads and chest harness wrapped around his limbs, then moving your eyes up towards the thick, pillowy protection decorating his shoulders, until finally your eyes locked onto his baby blues peeking out from under the much too-large hard hat covering the entirety of his forehead. That was the moment you truly lost it, giggles pittering out of your throat as you struggled to speak through the laughter.

“Ominis, what in Merlin’s name are you wearing?”

You had the decency to quiet your sounds at the self-conscious look that crossed the blond’s features, instead admiring the pink that twinged the tips of his ears through the helmet. He reminded you of a story your mother used to tell you before you went to sleep— a little mouse who was born with ears twice the size of his head. You couldn’t help but draw a comparison to how the tiny fellow’s ears flopped out from under his hat to the increasingly rosy ears of your Slytherin companion.

Ominis puffed his chest like an irate diricawl, straightening his back and squaring his shoulders against his tiny shakes of insecurity. “Quidditch gear! It’s important to be safe when in the air, you know.”

You laughed again at how ridiculous he was in that moment, preening like a proud peafowl, sans the feathers. He deflated slightly, fighting against the small smile that was threatening to crease his lips at the sound of your joy, even if it was directed at him. You took the look creasing his face as one of disheartenment, crossing the small distance between the two of you and patting him gently on the shoulder.

“I’m very sorry, Ominis. You look quite dashing like that.” You simpered, stifling your laughter once more in an attempt to salvage the blond’s pride.

The young Gaunt shrugged off your hand halfheartedly, turning his face away from you and grumbling to himself under his breath. You distinctly caught the word “twat” being muttered before he shook off the final dregs of color from his face. You sincerely apologized this time when he looked back at you, his eyes focused just over your shoulder. He nodded his head, a tiny smirk tweaking the corners of his lips as his way of saying he took no offense.

A grin split your cheeks at the possible debauchery that invaded your thoughts. With a quick, sharp gasp, you feigned interest in something just off to the side of the both of you, craning your neck enough that the blind boy would surely take notice.

“Oh my, what’s that over there?”

He quickly whipped his head to the side, stretching so that his ear was focused for any strange sounds. “What is it? What did you see?”

You smiled wider, mischief swimming in your eyes that the boy couldn’t see. He was so focused that he didn’t notice your nimble hands approaching his head, wrapping around the sides of his helmet and quickly yanking it off.

“This!” You said, promptly dropping the head protection towards the ground before punting it far into the air with a grand kick. It flew with the birds just arriving back from their flight south, rotating like a planet on its axis against the clouds before falling back to earth, bumping down the canyon leading towards the thin river stretching along the school grounds.

Ominis stood stock still at your left, his mouth opening and closing in shock as he heard his precious protection tumble down the grass and splash into the water below. His eyes were the size of saucers, eyebrows raised into his hairline and his blond tresses fluttering in the breeze blowing through the valley, giving him a delightful case of helmet hair. You shook with laughter, sputters of mirth cresting out of your chest and filling the air around you with the sweet twinkle of your happiness. He liked this side of you, he reasoned. The mischievous side. The cheeky side. It was much more preferable than the crestfallen and meek lilt of your voice that he drew out when he first declined your help all those months ago outside the Greenhouses.

Even still, you did not know him well enough to know that he enjoyed just as much knavery as his freckled best friend. How could he not take advantage of this moment? It was incredibly rare that he made new friends, after all.

Ominis schooled his face into one of outrage, squaring his shoulders in faux indignation as he shook his head.

“Outrageous!” He spat. “It was a mistake coming here. If this is how you treat your friends, I shan't stay a moment longer.”

He bit his lip to stifle the laugh that threatened to spill out, turning on the balls of his feet like he was about to stomp his way back to the castle. Just like he thought you would, your laughter quickly ceased its tumultuous volume, a somber look crossing your face as you grabbed at his arm.

“Ominis wait!” You cried, a frown turning down the corners of your mouth and eyebrows scrunched above your eyes. “I’m sorry, that was rude of me.”

He could hear your honesty in your words, and he almost felt bad for making you feel like you’d done something wrong. Almost.

“It was just meant to be a bit of fun. I didn’t mean to offend—”

He couldn’t hold it in anymore. A low chuckle spilled from his lips, rumbling his chest. You could feel the sweet vibrations where your hand was still latched around his, quite pronounced, you realized, bicep.

Your mouth dropped open in mock outrage, a smile turning your mouth just as quickly as the frown did earlier. “You prick!”

The grin in your voice just made him laugh harder, his arms raising to press against his stomach in elation. You started laughing along with him again, releasing his arm (not without a final squeeze against his muscles that you refused to acknowledge, of course) and smacking him lightly with both of your hands, each one hitting with a soft thwack.

Ominis, still giggling in gaiety, caught both of your wrists in his hands, holding them as soft as one would stroke a butterfly's wings as he finally turned to face you. The smile stretching his cheeks was enough to knock the wind out of your lungs.

“Ouch! Quit hitting me, you muppet!”

You weakly struggled against his hold, thinking to yourself that the silent strength of his warm palms wrapped around you felt quite nice.

“That’s not fair, Ominis!” You simpered, a giggle still dangling from your stretched lips.

“All is fair in devilry, my dear.” The blond said, his breathing finally calming down.

Looking into his eyes, still squinted in happiness and glowing brighter than the moon on a cloudless night, you fought the urge to flip his grip around and take both of his hands into yours. Color bloomed across the bridge of your nose at the thought— if anyone were to see you now, you’d blame it on being in the sun for too long.

Little did you know, Ominis was fighting a similar urge within himself: the urge to run his thumbs across the pulse point on your wrist and bathe himself in the soft thrum of your heartbeat.

Shaking yourself from the foreign, but not entirely unwelcome, emotion warming your chest, you gently pulled your wrists from the Gaunt boy’s grasp, smiling softly to yourself at the grin still stretching his face and the carefree look in his eyes as you summoned your broom from the ground.

“Well, my dear,” you teased, prodding the boy in the chest with the end of your broom. “I say we take to the skies while there’s still daylight, shall we?”

If he was bashful about the term of endearment he called you, he didn’t show it. Instead, he summoned the school-owned broom into his hand and presented you with his arm, waiting like a debonair gentleman for you to rest your hand in the crook of his elbow. You gladly took it, guiding him excitedly into the grandiloquent quidditch pitch so your lesson could begin.

Ominis prided himself on how quickly he determined the disposition of a person— it was one of the strengths of being blind, after all. What he couldn’t gather from sight, he learned through his stronger senses: sound and touch. His wand helped him a majority of the time with everything else, particularly body language. People don’t realize how much they give away about their personalities through how they hold themselves. He knew everyone in the castle— was always aware of them— by their cadence. Sebastian was brash— confident— his footfalls always loud and precise. He knew how everyone saw him and he reveled in the attention. The blond was aware of Anne Sallow in the same way. He remembered how when she was at Hogwarts she was quick with her steps, her feet barely touching the ground and moving like she was constantly on a mission. This skill of his helped him immensely on a day to day basis. He knew who to avoid, who he was safe to walk by and make idle chatter with, and especially where all the professors were. He was no stranger to sneaking around after hours, of course, so it helped to know each and everyone by their general aura. He liked being aware. Awareness was safe. Awareness kept him safe.

So it greatly troubled him at first that he wasn’t initially aware of you.

The blond hadn’t really paid much attention to you in the past, if he was being honest with himself. Ominis liked to be in the know about everything, so the fact that you were an enigma should have intrigued him. He knew of you, sure, but you were more of a recluse— a feat worth noting, if he said so himself, particularly when taking into account that he knew nearly all secret rooms and passages in the castle. Knowing of someone, and being aware of them, he was always sure to note, were vastly different. Even still, he only really noticed you more once you had introduced yourself. You had this quiet presence about yourself— a flower growing in the crack of the pavement. Since that moment by the pond— the kindness you showed him when he did nothing to deserve it and the honeyed tone of your voice when you procured his prized possession from under the depths— the young Gaunt boy made it his goal to have you join him in the light where you belonged. He liked keeping his friends beside him, after all, no matter how few of them he had.

Of course, he would deny that if anyone ever asked. Ominis Gaunt was not needy. He just really, really wanted to talk to you again.

That was all. He just wanted to be more aware of you. He was aware of all of his friends. That was his secret skill— his pièce de résistance.

That being said, this was a much higher level of awareness than he had been prepared for.

While Madam Kogowa was a force to be reckoned with, with her stoic nature and sturdy disposition, you were a gentle but firm study. You directed him through the basics of broom handling, tapping him on the shin with your foot to correct his placement and letting your warm hands carefully place his fingers in the correct positions on the shaft. Each movement had a purpose; it was almost like a dance, but only you could hear the music. Above all else, you never lingered. You never tried to direct the boy by grabbing at him and pulling like so many people often did— even Sebastian, on occasion, if he wasn’t thinking through his actions. But, you never did that. Each time your fingers would brush against a part of his body, you would retreat out of his personal space. If it was anyone else, he would have appreciated the gesture. But, the more your soft hands touched his, every time your body heat would hover just so against his clothed arms, he wished you would linger, and he didn’t know what to make of it.

Ominis Gaunt knew a lot of things. He knew that the sun would rise every morning and the moon would rise every night. He knew that honeysuckle was his favorite scent and earl grey was his favorite tea. He knew that he was different from his family in every way that mattered. He knew that Sebastian and Anne were his brother and sister, even if it wasn’t by blood.

What he didn’t know, though, was how he felt about you. He didn’t like not knowing things.

For once, Ominis, the ever Emotionally Intelligent boy that he was, was at a loss.

Whatever this emotion in his chest was, though, he liked it— how it felt at least. It was warm, and after growing up in a house that was the metaphysical embodiment of cold, he craved warmth more than anything.

“Ominis? Are you alright?”

Your sweet cadence broke through the ever constant bustle of thoughts in his brain, silencing all sporadic movement in its tracks and leaving just the softness of your voice to fill his ears. He loved how you said his name— how you were sure to always mention that you were talking to him and him alone in your sentences. Even before when you were talking to Sebastian, you directed everything at him with one simple word. It wasn’t like it was the first time someone had ever addressed him directly in a conversation, it was proper etiquette after all, but the way you said it made him almost appreciate the foreign-ness of it— the distinct other-ness of his name compared to those of his peers. There was something lovely about the musicality of the vowels and consonants when you said it: Ominis. He’d never noticed how it rolled off the tongue before. Particularly, how it rolled off your tongue. Shaking himself from his thought spiral, it took him a moment to fully grasp what you had said in completion; it was like he was hypnotized by the gentle sway of your words.

“Hmm? Oh, yes— yes, my apologies. I was simply lost in the clouds for a moment.”

The boy could hear your steps as you paced around him— feel your eyes boring into his clothes with enough intensity to set him ablaze. Yet, there was a softness there, as well. Much like everything else to do with you, there was a pleasant heat to it, like a fire after a long winter day. You seemed to study him like Sebastian would study a book he hadn’t previously read, curiosity brimming under the surface and a yearning for understanding swimming in your aura, painting it a lovely shade of sunlight. Underneath your gaze he felt vulnerable— practically naked, even with his layers of clothing. You were gazing at him so intensely, it was almost like you knew more about him than you let on, like you could see right into his soul and pick him apart piece by piece until there was nothing left but his fragile beating heart in your hands.

For a moment, he was considering letting you do just that.

“What exactly are you doing?” He asked, trying to ignore the goose-flesh rising on his arms.

You stopped then in front of him, your face close enough that he could feel the warmth of your breath against his cheek when you spoke, the timbre of laughter dressing your words. “Well, I hope you enjoyed your time up there, because you’re about to experience it for real.” He could nearly feel your smile against his skin and it nearly sent him spiraling. “I promise, everything will be alright.”

His heart was beating too hard for him to care that you ignored his question.

Ominis nodded, all reason thrown to the side and down the hill with his helmet because of you— your proximity, your grace, your laugh. How he adored your laugh. Even after knowing you for just under a year and talking to you a total of twice, your laugh was slowly becoming one of his favorite sounds.

Yes, Ominis the All Knowing did not know why he felt like this around you, but, Merlin help him, he was going to figure it out one way or another.

Ominis was flying much higher than he should, that much was for certain. Perhaps this was truly a bad idea, you mused to yourself as you watched him cling to the single piece of wood keeping him afloat. Without the padding he had, begrudgingly, shrugged off moments before take off, he was quite light it would seem. All it took was a particularly strong gale and he was soaring higher than the stadium pillars. Neither of you had taken into account the breeze that flew in from the coast that day in your assessment, the air carrying the lovely scent of pine and a hint of the salty sea. While the ground portion of the lessons had gone well, the air portion was proving to be quite tedious.

You could hear the air cutting against the wood of his broom as he raced around in circles, screams like that of a banshee ripping themselves out of his throat as he fought against the possessed carousel he found himself stuck in. If it wasn’t such a dire circumstance, it would have honestly been quite funny. Around and around he went, slowly making his way from one end of the quidditch field to the other like a tornado shifting itself across a barren field. It was amazing he hadn’t gotten sick yet.

The startled shrieks from the boy sent you into motion, quickly grabbing your broom from the ground and speedily making your way to the terrified blond, climbing up, up, up into the sky until you were parallel with his frightened form. You were sure that if you reached up with your full wingspan, you could touch the stratus clouds streaming across the brilliant blanket of blue above you. Ominis’ entire body was rigid, his arms locked around the handle of the broom in a gripping hug and legs nearly fused together at the ankles from the strength he was exerting trying to stay upright. His features, from what you could tell, at least, were just as tight. You caught a glimpse of a deep frown, furrowed eyebrows, and tightly closed eyes.

There was no time to feel guilty as you raced after him, keeping to the far right of his cyclone and out of the way of any flailing limbs in case he, Merlin forbid, decided to let go. This entire thing was a bad idea. The next time you saw Sebastian you were going to throttle him into next week. You weren’t stupid, you knew that he suggested this because he wanted you and Ominis to get to know each other more— ulterior motives aside, he just wanted to be a good friend and expand the blond’s horizons.

And now here he was, quite literally against the horizon.

What were you possibly thinking, agreeing to help him?

You weren’t thinking, was the thing. You were distracted by how his hair was ruffled in just the perfect way and his cheeks were that stupid, adorable shade of pink from the early spring breeze chilling his skin.

You prayed he could hear your voice over the wind roaring in his ears. “Ominis, you need to stop spinning!”

“I don’t bloody know how!” His voice sounded like it was coming from all directions at once.

Well, at least he stopped screaming.

“Unwrap your legs, it’s throwing off your inertia!”

“My what?” He questioned, his voice rocking back and forth as he got closer and farther from you in a constant pattern.

You shook your head, “Nevermind! Just do it!”

He hesitantly did as he was told, releasing the death grip he had on the broom with his thighs and unlocking his ankles. Sure enough, he stopped spinning.

He was still zipping back and forth across the stadium of course, but, as the saying goes, baby steps.

You flew next to him now, able to finally catch up with his motions and be within arms reach if things go wrong. His upper torso was still practically glued to the shaft of his broom, causing his increasing speed. At this point his wand was nothing more than a pretty accessory trapped between his clenched fingers— there was no way it was picking up anything to help the boy sense his surroundings better.

For a lack of better terms, Ominis was flying blind.

You called out to him again, trying to keep your tone gentle so as to not stress him out more. This was a very delicate situation; one wrong move and there would be a Slytherin shaped hole in the middle of the Quidditch field.

“Okay, Ominis. Now, lean away from the stick.”

He made a noise similar to a kneazle who just had its tail stepped on. “I can’t!”

Annoyance festered in your gut. “Yes, you can! Just loosen your grip. You’ll be okay, I promise!”

He scoffed— well, as close to a scoff as he could muster. “If I remember correctly, you said the same thing before we got into this mess. Bugger all your promise did, then!” The broom wobbled underneath him and his arms latched on tighter. “And what part of ‘I can’t’ do you not bloody understand? If I let go, I’ll fall!”

You groaned, throwing your head back in exacerbation. “Oh for the love of all things good—”

You had to think fast— things were getting much more complicated than you had originally imagined. Every lap back and forth across the arena was getting closer and closer to the trees that lined the tall walls of the Hogwarts grounds. One more lap and the boy was likely to slam into a tree before even being able to stop himself. The broom under you began to shift against your weight, feeling your rising panic wash through your body like an oncoming tide.

The time for gentleness had passed. It was time for action.

“Listen, I know you’re scared, but we are far past the time for proper broom etiquette. I’m going to need you to jump.”

The Slytherins head whipped in your direction faster than the wind slamming against your face. “Like hell I’m doing that!”

He faced forwards again, every muscle in his expression screaming trepidation. He knew you wouldn’t just tell him to jump if there wasn’t a very important reason to do so. Gods, he hated how much he trusted you already, even when you were telling him to do something that would most definitely get him killed.

“You’re actually trying to kill me. Sweet Merlin, my time has come.”

You felt bravery rear its head deep inside of you, turning your words to stone— solid, sturdy, and twice as strong as the cement holding your grand school together.

“Ominis, if you don’t jump right now, that tree you’re speeding towards is going to kill you— not me. You have to jump. I will catch you.” You swallowed against the nerves lodged just under your jaw, mustering all the courage you had into your next statement— words forged in steel stronger than damascus itself. “I swear on my life, I will not let you fall.”

You could see every nerve in his body fire off all at once, scorching his entire existence in a flame of fear. He seemed to be struggling against himself, fighting the urge to go down with the ship and instead listen to your words. He knew that you would not fail him; your time together may have been short, but your desire to help others— your desire to help him of all people— was something that even he could not balk at. The thought of death reared its ugly head, and the young Gaunt knew that if he did not act soon, he truly would be just another pretty dead thing for nature to swallow whole. A lovely way to go, he thought, just got today.

With a lack of grace that he was becoming accustomed to as of today, his body moved before his mind could process what it was doing, and he jumped.

Against the screaming wind in his ears as he began his plummet to the ground, he heard the school broom slam into the tree just beyond the pitch, its once well used, but sturdy, wood splintering in every direction before tumbling to the grass below.

“Levioso!”

With one swish of your wand, you caught the boy in the air, carefully lowering him onto the back of your broom and allowing his shaking arms to snake around your waist before gently gliding the both of you to the ground. He’s off faster than a flash of lightning once he can feel the grass below his feet, wrenching his hands away from your wool sweater like it burned him before lowering shakily to his knees and all but toppling over against the earth. His chest heaved with each inhale and collapsed against every exhale as his unseeing eyes stared above, silently thanking every god he could name that he survived what he had ultimately decided he should not have. The relief from the both of you was palpable in the air, coating the once cool spring breeze with a blanket of stillness. Unsure if you should leave him to his thoughts or help him up like any friend would— if you could even call yourself a friend of his anymore— you decided to find a safe middle ground by carefully making your way over to him, steps sure but soft like one would approach a nervous puffskein in case he decided that he didn’t want your company ever again, and laid down an arms distance away.

Unlike what you thought he would do, Ominis seemed to relax a bit once he felt your presence, letting his shoulders fully fall against the grass and allowing the tenseness that had befallen him to release into the world around him. Now that he was on land again, he felt safe— safe next to you, lying silently next to him underneath the afternoon sun.

It was a while before either of you spoke, just letting the calming presence of nature around you seep into your bones like flowers to sunlight.

“I am never doing that again.” Ominis said, a sigh heaving from his chest as he fisted the soft earth below his fingers.

You laughed lightly, a tiny thing that got caught in the breeze much too quick for the boy’s liking. “I do not blame you— nor will I make you.”

He chuckled in return, closing his eyes and fully basking in the last dregs of warmth breaching over the horizon before the chill of night settled across the Hamlet. “I’m pleased to hear that. It wouldn’t be a very friend-like thing to do to attempt my murder again.”

A smile broke across your face at his words. “You’d still consider me a friend? I thought for sure that little excursion would have put a damper on whatever iota of a cordial relationship we had going for us.”

He scoffed, reaching across the space between the both of you until he located your fingers. He took them into his own, intertwining his hand with yours. “I have had friends put me in much more dangerous situations than that, I assure you.”

Ominis leaned his head to the side, an easy smile stretching the corners of his lips as he spoke his next words directly to you. “My dear, I fear you’re stuck with me now.”

Your heart sputtered in your chest, tripping over its beats like a newborn hippogriff before it learns to fly. Heat painted your cheeks the color of the sunset far above your heads.

“I think I’m alright with that,” you said, voice taking that softness that you’ve come to realize was reserved just for him.

He did not let go of your hand until night had fallen and he safely walked you back to your common room, your broom tucked under his free arm while you led him with the other. Upon reaching the door he turned, fully facing you and smiling so sincerely that your heart nearly stopped for a second time within the span of an hour. His wind-tossed hair fell against his pale forehead, cascading just above his resplendent eyes and making him look like a renaissance painting.

His words only reached your scrambled mind once he turned to leave. “Until next time, lily pad.”

Oh. Oh. Oh no.

This was going to become a problem.

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dracowars · 2 years

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Hello love! It's my first time requesting.

Can you do an imagine- like Draco has a crush on Hermione & somehow hermione's best friend found it and after some requesting she decided help Draco to make Hermione fall for him but in all these processes they fall for each other. Can you make Hermione some kind of a vamp (villain/rude) here??

Draco x reader

match maker | draco malfoy

pairing: draco x reader

word count: 1,0k

summary: where draco is in love with hermione and y/n helps him, but falls for him herself

a/n: uni started again and i'm just really tired and exhausted :( however, i hope you can enjoy this <3

warnings: angst, toxicity

universe: harry potter

To be perfectly honest, you don’t know what made you decide to help Draco Malfoy in chasing after your best friend Hermione Granger. In fact, it doesn’t take a great deal of observation to notice that Draco is in love with the brightest witch at Hogwarts. Where she goes, he follows, and so are you since you can always be found by Hermione’s side. When Draco approached you one day and asked, almost begged you to help him persuade Hermione in giving him a chance, however, you couldn’t help but agree. It seemed so important to him, and you just couldn’t deny him anything when he looked at you with those beautiful grey eyes of his.

For several weeks now you have been trying to somehow draw Hermione’s attention to Draco, even openly talking to her about it, but nothing seems to be working. In Potions class, you specifically pretended to be unwell so that Draco could take your place in your group with Hermione, Ron, and Neville. It didn’t get the result you hoped for when Ron blew up his potion. At parties that were held in different common rooms on the weekend, you kept pulling Hermione towards Draco, but that hadn’t helped either. Even when you finally persuaded Draco to ask her to tutor him in Charms, she didn’t want to help him. Neither did Hermione show interest nor disinterest, which is why Draco continued. However, you couldn’t help but wonder if she was just playing around, loving the feeling of someone chasing after her so desperately.

You know how it feels to be rejected and trapped in a love that is only one sided. You know how painful it is to keep being rejected by the one person you would give the world to. And even though you and Draco are in similar situations, he just doesn’t give up.

Because of this, you now stand around the corner of a hallway leading to the Great Hall and watch Draco walk towards Hermione, holding a beautiful red rose in his ring clad hand. Praying that everything will go according to plan, you gasp under your breath when Hermione notices him, the expression on her face unreadable. Hermione loves roses, she has told you several times, which is why Draco and you set out to find the most beautiful and stunning rose in the entire Wizarding World. At this moment, however, Hermione’s face doesn’t show how she assesses the situation.

From the distance, you can’t quite make out what words they are exchanging, but it all becomes pretty clear as Hermione’s mischievous laugh echoes down the hall, making your heart pound faster. Seeing Draco lower his hand with the rose in defeat doesn’t make it any better, and you can only guess that Hermione is ridiculing his behavior.

“Draco Malfoy wants to give me a rose? How pathetic”, Hermione’s voice finds its way to you, and seeing that Draco now lowers his head too, anger seethes inside you. How dare she treat him like that when he never showed anything than respect and affection towards her. She just throws him in the dirt like he is nothing. Draco deserves someone so much better than her.

You don’t hear the next words as Hermione lowers her voice again while Draco seems barely able to say anything at all. Only when Hermione turns on her heel, her hair flying over her shoulder, and disappears in the other direction, do you dare to come out of hiding.

Slowly, you approach Draco, who has remained rooted to the spot. Your feet appearing in his field of vision, he lifts his head slightly in order to meet your eyes. The sadness you see in his almost drives you insane. Usually, those eyes are full of hidden affection and comfort, but there is nothing left of that now. It hurts you to see him like this, so fragile and broken. He would do anything for Hermione while you would do anything for him. Quickly, you try to find a way to cheer him up again, searching for something to say so that looking at his sad face doesn’t hurt you anymore.

“Cheer up, Draco. We can keep trying. You know, the other day I heard that she-”

“No”, Draco interrupts sharply, his eyes firmly on you. “There is no point. I give up.”

“I know it is painful right now, Draco. But I promise we will work it out somehow. Together”, you smile softly, even though your inner turmoil almost chokes you. Draco doesn’t reply, standing still in front of you, his hand tightening on the stem of the rose that somehow looks much sadder now. The veins running up his forearm prominent, you open your mouth to continue encouraging him, but he forestalls you.

“How do you do it?”

“How do I do what?”

“To be so strong, even though you have to watch all this every day. How do you stand the pain of watching me chase another girl?”, he asks out of nowhere, dissolving all the air in your lungs with those words, your heart beating so much faster.

“I-I- Well, I just want to help..”

“Why are you helping me, Y/N?”, Draco asks, but there is nothing threatening or aggressive about it, rather he speaks calmly, sincerely, and chooses every word carefully. The way he looks at you only makes the lump in your throat more difficult to swallow. He knows. Since when does he know?

“Because I want you to be happy, Draco. That is all I want.”

“Even though you hurt yourself a little each time?”

“Even though I hurt myself a little each time”, you repeat approvingly, fiddling with your shaky fingers while avoiding his gaze.

“I’m sorry”, he suddenly apologizes and because his voice sounds extremely heaven, you lift your head only to be met with his tear-filled eyes. “I’m so sorry I didn’t notice sooner.”

“Draco, you don’t have to-”

“I never thought about how you must feel about all this. I was being selfish, but without you I would have never realized that Hermione isn’t the person I always thought she was. She never was and if it wasn’t for you, I would have never known that I deserve someone better”, Draco says with sudden realization and as he raises the red rose in front of your face, offering it to you now, a tear rolls down your cheek. “Somewhere along the way I realized that I deserve someone like you, Y/N.”

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firebloodanddragons · 2 years

Text

The Midnight Relief - Part 3 (Aemond Targaryen x Reader) NSFW

Summary: A knight of the King's Guard comes look for you in the middle of the night. Aemond is back from Storm's End and he requests your presence but nothing has prepared you for what you will find in his rooms.

Tags: SMUT, Porn with Plot (sort of), Vaginal Sex, Soft Aemond, Bottom Aemond, Breeding kink, Targcest (Reader is Daemon Targaryen’s bastard), Angst, Insecurity and Vulnerability, Mention of Underage Prostitution, Death, violence and murder.

Author’s Notes: I hoped you’ll enjoy this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it. As I worked on this chapter, I wondered many times what would make Reader stand by Aemond after learning about Lucerys's death. So I developed her backstory and made it somewhat similar to Aemond's life. I wanted them relate to each other and to bond over death instead of letting it create a gap between them. I was also eager to write a Reader who was different from the goody-two-shoes pure girls we usually pair with characters like Aemond and let's not forget whose daughter she is. You can't be Daemon's daughter and be 100% angelic. Anyway, I can't wait to read your reaction and thank you again for your positive response. Happy New Year. Cee

(PART 1) (PART 2)

“Every time a Targaryen is born, the gods toss a coin in the air and the world holds its breath. Which side will it be, greatness or madness? It is a saying born from the mouth of the Targaryen lords that spread to the ears of the people back when Maegor The Cruel was still alive. People used to say that the second son of Aegon the Conqueror was the polar opposite of his half-brother, Aenys I. While Aenys was peaceful, loving and artistic, a weedy and fragile man as thin as a twig, Maegor was quarrelsome, heartless and brutal, a tall and strong man as large as a bull. Two completely different men yet two brothers born from the same father. Two sides of the same coin.”

You didn’t know how your mother could possibly know so much about the Targaryen dynasty or why she was so fascinated by their family history. For years, you had thought her interest for the house of the dragon was the obvious consequence of the heartbreak Daemon Targaryen had left her with, that unconsciously (or not) it had been her desperate way to keep her heart close to the Rogue Prince. But as you grew up you began to believe the opposite. It was her obsession for the Targaryens that had drawn her to Daemon for the dragonriders represented everything she had desired in life: glory, power and especially freedom.

Her sombre face – that only brightened when she would hear the name Targaryen - came back to you as you observed each side of the gold coin flipping between your fingers. The crowned head of late King Viserys The Peaceful shone in the moonlight while the three-headed dragon looked dull, certainly because it was the side that your mother had kissed for years back when the coin used to be hers. Even though you were no real Targaryen and merely a bastard of the Prince of the City, you wondered if she had tossed the coin at your birth and if she had, which side it had landed on.

The door to your dorm slammed open, waking up all the serving girls sleeping in their beds with a start. The crash made you jump with surprise and you quickly hid the gold coin under your pillow, fearing someone might steal it if they knew of its existence. A young and bearded knight of the King’s Guard entered the room. Silently, he had a look around, scanning all the women’s faces one after the other with unknown purpose. When his blue eyes landed on you and noticed your silver hair, he finally declared in a blunt tone of voice. “You! Prince Aemond requests your presence, immediately.” Nothing more, nothing less. It was the first time Aemond had sent a white cloak to find you. Usually, he would entrust an upright and meek servant he could easily intimidate with the task, menacing them to be discreet and sneaky if they wanted to keep their toil or their tongue. ‘Prince Aemond wishes for your service in his rooms at nightfall’ was the regular message since Aemond was determined to keep his nocturnal activities with you a secret and his reputation for decency intact. Something wasn’t right. Every girl stared at you as you got up, put on your red dress over your night gown and left the dorm with the guard in silence. Surely, they were wondering questions similar to yours considering their whispers and glances you chose to ignore but couldn’t help but despise. You blamed yourself for caring so much. You followed the knight down the stairs and he led you to Aemond’s door without a single word. You could see the tension eating at him. His jaw was clenched and there was a certain anxiety behind his harsh blue eyes. What the hell was going on? Arryk – that was the knight’s name (or was it Erryk?) – knocked and without opening, announced. “My prince, the serving girl is here.” He got no answer but he still gestured you to enter almost as if he was afraid to grab the handle himself. You furrowed your brow but you did as he said anyway, not because he had asked you to but because you wanted to know the reason behind the knight’s odd stiffness and Aemond’s reckless summoning.

The prince’s rooms were plunged into the darkness and cold. There was no flame burning in the fireplace that was as clean and empty as when Aemond had left for Storm’s End to obtain Borros Baratheon’s support and the hand of one of his daughters three days ago - a decision made by his family that had hurt you despite Aemond’s assurance that you would never leave his side.

“My prince?” You said, searching for him in the dim moonlight and in the obscurity but he was nowhere to be found. “It is I … Y/N.” You got no answer, just a terrifying gloomy silence that made you anxious and look around you for comfort. “Aemond?” You called his name, now too worried and fearful to care about etiquette.

Your informality managed to draw Aemond out of the shadow and he abruptly wrapped his arms around you as he slammed his hard chest against your back. Startled by his stealthy embrace, you immediately gasped and almost yelped, but as soon as you recognized your paramour’s strength and his perfume - which was a mix of leather and cologne drown in dragon musk - your fear immediately vanished and your body leant under his touch. “You scared me.” You chuckled; you heart still pounding in your chest but glad to finally be in his arms. You had missed him dearly. “You know, fear has never been arousing.” You joked as you put your hands over his to make him tighten his embrace around you. Aemond did not reply. Instead, he hugged you harder and almost with desperate need and he nestled his head in your neck to breathe hard. His behaviour sucked the little playfulness warming your heart out of your chest and the impression that something was wrong reappeared straight away. You slowly turned around to look at Aemond with worry. You could barely see his face in the darkness but the little you saw was enough to sadden you. His silver hair was wavy as if rain had poured over him and his purple look – that was avoiding eye contact - was swollen and reddened. Had he been crying? “Oh my sweet prince.” You cupped his cheek – he was freezing against your palm- and caressed it until he suddenly grabbed your hand to kiss your knuckles desperately. He was glad you were here. He needed you. “My midnight relief.” He whispered, almost chocking on his words.

Concerned for Aemond’s welfare, you hastened to light a fire and a few candles and you prepared a hot bath for him as fast as you could. You thought he would complain about your slowness but the look that he gave you as you did all those things to comfort him was not his usual glare of impatience. Standing in silence in the middle of the room, his head down and his face livid, he genuinely seemed confused. When the water was finally hot and steaming, you gently took his hands in yours and escorted him towards the tub. There, you removed his humid clothes one by one, his boots first, then his leather tunic and trousers and finally his undergarments. He let you do without any complain or any reaction, almost like a doll a little girl could dress and undress at will. But when you reached his eyepatch to unstrap it, he winced and grabbed your hand as swiftly as a snake, his sad young face wrinkled by fear and pain. You surrendered to his refusal but only for a brief moment. “It’s alright.” You whispered as you stroke his cheek to reassure him. He eventually leant in your palm like a fearful cat and you used his moment of docility to remove his eyepatch but as soon as the piece of leather loosened around his head, his purple eye tightly shut and he grimaced again. “What is it my prince? What happened to you?” You asked and he opened his eye again. No word came out of his mouth but the fear lingering in his purple iris sent shivers down your spine. What could terrorize a man as fearless as Aemond Targaryen? “Get in the bath. It will make you feel better … or at least warmer. You’re freezing.”

Again, he remained silent and gave you no sign of approval or disapproval. Instead, he just let you settle him down in the bath. Catatonic, he didn’t react when his body entered the hot water as if its comforting warmth had no effect on him. Knowing him, you were certain he was lost in the memory of whatever had happened to him, remembering each detail on a loop. He was an obsessional man after all. You knelt quietly by the tub and plunged a clean clothe into the water to carefully clean and warm the young prince, starting with his shoulders and the top of his back that were still cold as ice. Unsurprisingly, he barely shivered when you rubbed his skin. So, you untied his long hair hoping some water on his head would bring him back to reality, to you. His silver mane was very tangled and smelt like rain and wet dragon. Therefore, you thought it would be a good idea to grab a comb and a soap. Besides, Aemond enjoyed when you took care of his hair. But the second you tried to stand up, the prince held you back by the hand, his eye begging you to stay. You nodded and sat back on the floor beside him. It took him a while before he finally uttered his first sentence. “Am I a monster?” Your eyes widened at the question and you exclaimed, “What? No, of course not.” But you could tell that your words were not enough to convince Aemond. “Have the Four Storms insulted you, my prince?” If they had, they would hear from you when they visit the keep. Stupid cunts! “Is that why so you feel so down right now? Should I tell the Dowager Queen of your mistreatment in Storm’s End? I –” “Starlight” Aemond sighed, cutting you off almost to calm you down but specially to tell you you were wrong. And for a second, you expected him to talk to you, to confess the truth. But it didn’t come. “Just join me in the bath. Relieve me.” He wanted to sound commanding but his tone was begging.

You nodded and stood up to take off your clothes as Aemond watched. Normally, he would have gazed at you with boiling lust, his hands itching to rip your dress off, his purple eye burning with a dark impatience but not tonight. Tonight, the One-Eyed Prince was nothing but distress. You entered the bath in silence and cautiously sat down on Aemond, straddling his lap. The warm water made you tremble with relief as the temperature soothed your body that was so sore and tensed after three tiresome and intense days working and worrying for your Prince. But your newly-found comfort was of no importance. The only thing that matter was Aemond, as always. Gently, you brought your hands to his muscular chest and started massaging him from his pectorals down to his abs, rubbing circles on his smooth skin, thinking that a little tender devotion could pull Aemond out of his dark thoughts. You were wrong. He didn’t shiver or reacted to your strokes. Clinging to the edge of the tub, he didn’t even look at - or perhaps notice, which was worse - your hands going down towards his cock until he felt your fingers approaching his silver hairs crowning his sex. Then, he grabbed your wrists to forbid you to slide any further and kept them in a solid grip. “Not now… Sing a song for me first.” His unexpected demand confused you for a moment but you asked anyway. “Which song would you like to hear, my prince?” “Have I ever answered this question before?” No, he always let you decide, not because he had no idea of the song that he wished to listen to but because you had a real knack for finding the lyrics that resonated with him. Aemond hated merry melodies, finding them silly and only made to be sung by jesters and drunken bards in taverns. What he loved were tragic lyrics, stories of doomed love and sorrow that he would ask you to sing at night sitting by the fireplace as if they were lullabies. And each time, he would listen to you carefully like a child and emotionlessly like a knight, secretly feeling each line deep in his heart that wasn’t as dark as everyone thought.

Aemond let go of your wrists and watched your beautiful face as you began to sing for him, your hands now in his hair to tenderly – if not motherly- run your fingers through the tangled strands and soothe his agitated mind. “Oh, I am waiting for my boy, noble sailor. His hair is chestnut brown His voice sweet as a blanket He'd promised me he'd come back to me a saviour What is this thing that drowns? Is it my son’s casket?” Prince Aemond always thought you had the loveliest voice, enchanting as a mermaid and sweet as a mother. He could listen to it for hours. And yet tonight it sounded like the sharpest dagger, a blade made of Valyrian steel clinking unpleasantly in his ears and begging for an eye. It was also the teeth of a roaring dragon, tearing flesh apart and crushing bones, and the screams of a frightened boy who had never seen death before. “Enough!” He vociferated, refusing to handle the pain you unconsciously caused him any longer. Your mouth shut and your hands froze in his hair. Aemond was looking away, unable make visual contact, his jaw as tightened as his fists. Rage was eating him from within but not only. You thought about leaving him, believing you were useless, but the fact the prince had not dismissed you somehow made you stay. Perhaps, despite your inability to distract him and to relieve him tonight, he wanted you to remain by his side. Perhaps even the worst company was better than solitude.

“Be honest with me” He suddenly said. “You know I’m always honest with you, my prince.” “A few days ago, when you told me you feared I would abandon you after my betrothal, do you remember what I said?” You knew the answer. “That for you own sanity you can’t let me go.” But the mention of this moment made you rather uneasy and perplexed. Why was Aemond talking about this now? Did he change his mind? Did he come to the conclusion that kicking you out of his life was the right thing to do? Was this the reason why you couldn’t comfort him tonight, why he didn’t want you? You sensed fear growing inside of you, the questions echoing in your head like a hubbub. “Hmm… That is not what I should have said.” Your entire body shivered at his words and you instinctively hold on to his hair as one would hold on for dear life. Desperately. And you found yourself pathetic for reacting that way. You shouldn’t be surprised if Aemond had indeed come back to his dutiful senses, that he had decided to abandon you for his betrothed, a lady that certainly was way more beautiful than you and undoubtedly more educated. It was a reasonable choice, the choice any lord and or prince would make. And yet… “I should have said, for my own sanity don’t let me go.” The terror knotting your stomach slightly loosened the same way your fingers clung at his silver hair unclenched and then you realized Aemond had been holding you by the waist all along, his short nails dug in your soft flesh. Whether it was to comfort you or out of a fear similar to yours you didn’t know. “How can you believe I would ever let you go, my prince?” “Because soon perhaps even in the morrow you and everyone else in this damn kingdom will call me a monster. You will reject me just like my own family have been rejecting me for years, just like they rejected me earlier when they learnt…” He brutally stopped, unable to continue his sentence. “Have I not stood by you all these years, my prince?” You asked as you stroke his wet hair tenderly. “You have.” He had a faint but grateful smile that barely could be seen on his heart-shaped lips. “So why would I leave you now?”

Aemond found the courage to look at you deep in your eyes. He could tell you were waiting for an answer, that you were eager to know what had happened to him, what was the cause of his unusual behaviour. He was no fool. He was just scared. Behind his mask of unbreakable strength and austerity, he was just scared like a little boy, like the child he used to be when he had no dragon and no one as supporting and devoted as you by his side. He was scared to be abandoned, to be cast away once more. He was scared of the curse his kind were said to carry. He was scared but he spoke anyway. “Because I am a murderer… I killed Luke.” He saw your face change, the worry in your features turning into incomprehension, the way you stared at him and almost pulled yourself out of his arms that refused to let you go as you removed your hands from his hair. He saw all that and he couldn’t see more. “What? Why?” You asked in shock. “Because I wanted to.” He confessed the same way he had confessed to his mother and grandsire earlier, with a coldness that concealed his shame. “Aemond...” “It’s the truth!” He growled. “I wanted the bastard dead. I’ve always wished him dead, since the day he took my eye … No, since the day he humiliated me by offering me that fucking pig. In my mind, he always deserved to die and only the Gods know how many times I’ve dreamt to gauge his eyeballs and present them to his whore mother on a silver platter. I wanted Luke dead. And now he is.” He could feel your eyes on him but he couldn’t even glance at you, too terrified to face your disappointment but he still found the strength to admit something he had kept hidden from his family because he still believed that despite your probable disgust right now, you would never mock him. “But I didn’t mean to kill him. I … I tried to stop Vhagar, I did. But she …” The images of his nephew and his dragon being torn to pieces stopped him from talking again and he sighed before eventually pulling your body closer to him to nestle his head in your chest and beg you, his purple eye glistening with repressed tears. “You must believe me. Please believe me. Stand by me.” As a response, your fingers found their way back to Aemond’s hair and your caressed it to comfort him as you kissed the top of his head. He wrapped his arms around you with all the strength and despair he had and kissed your breasts with a heart-breaking gratefulness. You were still here and that’s all he wanted. But nothing had prepared him for your revelation.

“I killed my mother.” You declared, your voice barely louder than a whisper. This was your darkest secret, the atrocity you had never told anyone but yourself when at night you would remember the macabre scene. And tonight, you were telling it to the man you held against your breasts, not to unburden you but to tell him you understood him. “What I said to you, that she died of syphilis holding my hand … that’s not what really happened.” Aemond glanced up at you and slowly unclasped his embrace around you to let you tell your story, curious to know what it was and why it happened. There was no judgment in his eye because somehow, he could already relate. “When I was twelve, my mother got so sick she was forced to be confined to bed. So, it fell upon me to provide for her. I turned to Madam Chataya and she hired me to take my mother’s place in the pleasure house. I was the only dragonseed whore in the Street of Silk, a blessing for the owner of the brothel but a curse for me. Men who dreamt to know how it felt to ‘fuck the blood of the dragon’ paid huge amounts of coins for a moment with me while others who hated the crown came to fuck me hard thinking it would somehow make the royals pay for their misery. And I endured this treatment every day because it was the only way to help my mother. But I got no thank you for it. All I had was more stories about Daemon Targaryen.” A tear rolled down your cheek and you chuckled to let Aemond believe you were fine. But your smile was too miserable and bitter to fool him. The prince thought about catching your tear but afraid it would stop you in your story he did not. “One day, her sickness worsened and she got a terrible fever that made her hallucinate. For a week she thought my sire was by her side and she couldn’t stop calling his name over and over again while I was downstairs getting fucked by all the sons of bitches of King’s Landing. ‘Daemon, you’re here. Thank the gods!’” The rage and hatred you had never managed to erase made your jaw shake and your eyes darken. “It drove me mad. So, one night as she was screaming his name again, I wrapped my hands around her neck… I tried to resist. Trust me I did but I hated her so much and I hated Daemon and I hated all the men who paid to fuck me. I was just a child, seven hells!” You sobbed loudly and sensed Aemond’s fingers lightly brush the skin of your back. “She struggled, trying to gasp for air, begging me to stop but even as she did, she still yelled ‘Daemon, Daemon!’. I was crying, begging her to stop saying his name. I just wanted her notice me, to care about me, to just be my mother. She grabbed my hands to free herself from my grip but she was too weak to push me away. I felt her dying in my hands and when her body became still and she was finally silent… I think I felt more relieved than sad. I killed my own mother, Aemond. So yes, I’ll stand by you. Because people like you and me, we’re not monsters, we’re just survivors that life broke too many times.”

A new tear fell from your eyes and this time Aemond couldn’t resist the urge to wipe it from your face with his thumb. His sympathy and tenderness warmed your heart and you were grateful for them. It was possibly the first time in your entire life someone gave you pure and unconditional affection. And it felt nice.

“Thank you.” You whispered with a faint smile that Aemond immediately caught with his lips. You gasped in his mouth but eventually welcomed his kiss with the same softness he gave you. Your fingers woven in his silver locks, his roaming up and down your back, your mouths were brushing each other, enjoying the delicacy that was so needed after such emotional confessions when your bodies began to yearn more for one another. Your chests met harder, drawing a sharp breath out of both your parted lips and you used this moment to give the prince a passionate kiss. You pulled at his bottom lip and he moaned gutturally before he urged to smooch you, encouraged by your sudden eagerness, his hand holding the back of your neck firmly. You could feel his cock swelling between your thighs, close to your hole that would soon be aching to be filled. You tried to ignore the growing hardness and the knot that was tightening your lower belly more and more which each second passing. You refused to seem sexually depraved to the prince’s eyes, but as soon as Aemond pressed your core to his shaft you grunted lustfully and began to move against him. “I need you.” The words escaped your lips as you clung to his hair. “As I need you.” Your mouths couldn’t be separated. It was as if you needed the proximity and the mix of both your breaths to be and feel alive before the dreadful curse looming over you would make moments of intimacy like this one too rare.

Aemond grabbed his length now erected and ready for you and guided it towards your begging entrance waiting for him under the water. Remembering what you had taught him before leaving for Storm’s End, he teased your clit with his tip and watched you squirm in his arms with an amused smirk on his lips before entering you almost smoothly. You wriggled a bit as he slid inside you to take him deeper. “Always such a tight warm hole for me.” Aemond purred as he took hold of your hips to sheathe his long shaft to the hilt. Your wet walls fit so well around him, taking every inch of his length perfectly. “Do you like it?” You asked then winced a bit when Aemond pulled out and pushed back inside of you with strength. Your grimace brutally calmed the prince’s burning ardour and he froze. “Did I hurt you?” He worried with an apologetic tone when he understood he should have perhaps given you more time to adjust to his girthy presence before moving. His reaction moved you. Never a man had shown any concern for you. You had always been treated like a toy, a doll all men with enough gold or power – Aemond included - could use or abuse to their will. The prince’s sudden softness brought a single tear to your eye and you blinked to prevent it from rolling down your cheek. “No.” You whispered and your face beamed with gratefulness. You kissed Aemond again to reassure him and slowly adjusted yourself to his cock by undulating your hips, a necessity knowing Aemond’s tendency to be hard, rough and extremely passionate. But then he said something that caught you off guard. “Keep doing that.” It took you a solid second to understand what he meant and wanted from you and when you finally did, you stared at him confused. Did he want you on top? A part of you couldn’t believe this to be true. And he noticed. “Ride me.” He ordered, making his wish perfectly clear this time. “You sure? You never allowed me on top before, my prince.” “I’m your dragon, aren’t I? Dragons are meant to be ridden. So, do it.” His command sounded so sensual to your ears you suddenly clenched around him, feeling an arousal you had never felt before. Aemond hissed as he slammed his head back against the edge of the tub and he put his hand on your hips to silently tell you to move. You took a comfortable position on top of him, hands on his shoulders, your breasts close to his face, and slowly you lifted yourself up only to sink back on his hard cock as soon as his tip threatened to leave your hole. Aemond grunted as you welcomed him back inside inch by inch and he breathed hard. He seemed to enjoy it so much. So you did it again and again and again until he began to moan so desperately you decided to accelerate your pace. You took a hold of the edge of the tub right above the prince’s silver head and started to bounce on top of him, flooding the stone floor more and more each time your entrance eagerly met his balls. “Seven heavens, you feel so good.” Aemond managed to compliment between two growls and you beamed. “No, you feel so good, my dragon.” The position was indeed amazing, empowering even. The proximity, the intimacy, the sensation to be in charge and to have Aemond, a prince, all to yourself. You could get used to this. “Indeed, it seems you’re enjoying me quite a lot.” Aemond hissed under your frantic rhythm. You were so wet around him and he was sure that wasn’t the water. You nodded and chuckled as you kept your pace steady but passionate. But soon, your desires began to scream loudly inside of you, encouraging you to take more, more pleasure, more power, more of Aemond. You let them guide you and your movements turned into a furious riding, similar to a wild rodeo except that the beast you were straddling was no wild animal but a very docile dragon staring at you with a burning but calm adoration through his lidded eye, his hands worshipping your body but occasionally clawing at your skin. “Fuck I love riding you.” You admitted and Aemond smirked at your coarseness, definitely amused but proud to see you enjoy his cock so much. “Keep going then, my fierce rider.” He joked and submitted to you even more to observe you take what you so eagerly wanted. He loved dominating you but there was something truly satisfying in seeing you fervently enjoying yourself on top of him. He made him feel somewhat adored, a feeling that had been too rare in his young life.

“Touch me, please.” You asked and one of the prince’s big hands gladly left your waist to slide down to your fold, ready to find your throbbing clit and send you over the edge, a generous gesture he was happy to offer you. “Not here.” You stopped him, almost breathless. You took his hands in yours and abruptly brought them to your bouncing breasts that left unattended for too long to your taste. “There.” Aemond obediently cupped them as if he was holding two beautiful fruits and instantly started to toy with your sensitive perky nipples, pinching them and rolling them between his fingers. You grunted as he did and dug your nails in the wooden edge of the tub when you felt yourself almost fall on top of the Targaryen prince. Your breasts brushed Aemond’s face in your fall and, unable to resist their delicious shape, he claimed one by catching it with his mouth. He immediately started sucking it loudly, twirling his tongue around the nipple as his cock began to throb in your cunt. It was no secret he liked your breasts in his mouth but you never saw the prince adoring them like that. Usually, he would suck at them for comfort, not for lustful purposes. As he kept on devouring your teats, Aemond’s hand slid down your sides to find your waist again. He grabbed you firmly and you felt him adjust himself underneath you, forcing you to stop your eager bouncing on top of him. You clearly understood what he was trying to do. So, you bent on top of him even more, pressing your forehead to his, to help him a bit. “You don’t mind?” “Not if you bring me to the stars with you.” You whispered closed to his lips with a smile and he chuckled almost silently. “Hmm… I can do that.” “I’m sure you can, my dragon.” He took your words as a challenge anyway and rapidly became entranced. He thrusted his cock inside you hard and deep to make you mewl and then when he reached the end of your squelchy pit, he began hammering you from underneath. The water in the tub became agitated as you took each of Aemond’s mighty thrusts with loud lustful cries that only encouraged him to accelerate and soon your walls began to clench more and more around Aemond’s throbbing cock. You were aware of the power of a tightening cunt around an aching shaft and you could definitely tell by looking at Aemond’s face wrinkled with pleasure that he was very close to reach his high. So, you tried to warn him, afraid he was too lost in lust to realise he was very close to milk his cock inside you. “Aemond, careful. You will—” “Let me… let me.” He panted almost begging you.

You eyed at him with surprise but also seriousness. You did not want him to make a reckless decision that he would regret later. He sensed your state of mind and caught your look. His purple eye was lidded, reflecting the incoming burst growing inside him but he was still very conscious of his actions. “That’s alright. I truly want it. I want to know how it feels to breed a woman… to breed you.” Just as before, his words made you moan and shiver and you ultimately nodded and buried your face in his neck, offering him your body to do as he wished. Your submission set Aemond’s loins on fire and a solid hand wrapped around the back of your neck as he bit your shoulder like an animal in heat trying to breed his mate. He did not hurt you though. His hand and teeth were just merely to keep you in place as he kept chasing his release inside you with a rough and fervent pace. His need was bringing you closer to your climax. Seeing Aemond so desperate, so eager to cum inside of you was the most arousing thing in the world. And after a few perfect thrusts, your walls began to flutter and you finally came loudly, crying in his neck. Your cunt furiously clenched and unclenched around his cock as you went up and down your high. “Don’t muffle your screams, not tonight, not as I put my seed in you.” The Targaryen commanded as he felt you cum around him and push his aching cock towards its release. “Aemond!!” You shouted and he finally spurted his semen into you as he growled lewdly for long seconds, his voice following the rhythm of his manhood emptying itself in your comforting hole.

When there was nothing else that he could give you, the prince’s body became limp and he let himself sink in the tub, dragging you down with him. You laid against him, his cock still inside you keeping his seed as deeply as possible, your head on his beating chest, and you silently listened to his thundering heart. You were both tired and panting, unable to move and to talk. But even if you could, what would you do? What would you say that your silence and embrace couldn’t show already? You rubbed your face on Aemond, trembling but very satisfied and you wrapped your arms around him. He responded with his fingertips caressing your back and that’s all you both needed right now.

‘Every time a Targaryen is born, the gods toss a coin in the air and the world holds its breath. Which side will it be, greatness or madness.’ You didn’t know if your mother had tossed a coin for you and if she had, which side it had fallen on. But as your body was still united with Aemond’s, you began to think that if you tossed a coin right now it would show you madness because you were mad about your prince.

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen fanfic #house of the dragon #the midnight relief

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genshin-scenarios · 2 years

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Adopt a Wanderer: Assimilation [Part 2]

Summary: After meeting Kuni, who's isekaied into your world, you both try to settle into a new normal.

Note: This is meant to be a found-family series with Scaramouche, who you address as Kuni in this AU! Mostly meant to be interpreted as platonic.

Part 1

Your first few days with Kuni were nothing short of lively. The first morning, well – no one can blame you for having to process the situation a second time, after accepting that it wasn’t a dream after all – but you also went over a conversation about him being non-human.

See, you weren’t sure if puppets had to eat to function, or if they had any special dietary requirements (as ridiculous as it sounds, you truly didn't know) - so when you bring up the question to Kuni, he freezes for a moment before sheepishly asking you how you figured it out. In light of not wanting to seem even more suspicious in his eyes (what kind of lunatic adopts a random person from the streets anyways?) you say something about how you noticed the connective markings on his elbows when you leant him your clothes - which was true enough, seeing as you gave him a t-shirt instead of something long sleeved.

You didn’t want to dishearten him any more than he already looked from the reminder, so you give him a smile and ask if he’d like to go shopping for clothes that suit his tastes better.

“Shopping?” Kuni repeats, putting on the jacket you retrieved and his sandals. “Is there a marketplace nearby?”

“Something similar to it, yes.” You lock the door and guide him downstairs, onto the street, and towards the bus station. “We need to get you clothes that fit you properly, and it’ll be easier for you to blend in and visit places that way.”

You’ve thought about this last night, when you were getting extra blankets and pillows for him to use the living room couch as a bed. Even if he was just staying here until he could find a way home, it’d be no different from being a caged bird if you just confined him to your apartment.

You wanted to give Kuni the chance to enjoy your world a little. It’s not all sunshine and rainbows here, but if his current reaction was anything to go by you’d say that the city you lived in wasn’t too bad. It’s peaceful and free of conflict, albeit busy with workers and students and business. There are some nice cafes and affordable restaurants, the public transport is fast, and Kuni is taking in his surroundings like he’s drinking in the colors on a painting. It’s overwhelming and foreign, but his eyes are full of wonder.

When the bus doors open and he hesitates to step on, you offer him your hand as you lead the way. Everyone’s at work or school so the streets are fairly sparse compared to peak hours, and Kuni treats everything you pass by with a quiet curiosity. You mention what each thing is to answer the questions written on his face, and after you exit the clothing shop with his haul, Kuni tugs on your sleeve to ask if you should head to eat next.

You don’t oppose, making a beeline to the cafe that has a promotion on weekdays like these. “Let’s see… I’m not sure what your food preferences are, but their menu has quite a lot of things. If you’re hungry, this place should do the trick!”

Kuni stays close to your side as you navigate the mall, glancing at the other half of the bags that you insisted you could help him carry. “Actually, I asked because you seemed hungry earlier. Um, your stomach sounded, I mean - but anything’s fine! I can eat anything I think, but probably not too much.” He could go without eating too, but when you reach the cafe and sit down with the menu, the images look new and interesting enough that he’s curious about trying them all.

Embarrassment burns when you realize he heard your stomach growling earlier, but you put it off by bulldozing to the next relevant question. “Oh! In that case, why don’t we order a few things to share?” A part of you wants to spoil him for some reason - you’re aware it might also have to do with his potential future once he returns to Teyvat - but another more accurate reason was simply because of how his eyes would light up when there was something he liked; most children might enjoy the moment of sweetness and move on to the next, but with Kuni the sensation seemed to linger with fascination. “That way we can try to pinpoint what kind of food you like.”

“I liked the tea from that day,” he tried to help. “It was bitter, but the aftertaste was nice.”

“Hmm… So something more savory, maybe?” You hum to yourself, ordering a set to share and a side. Remembering how Ei’s favorite food was dango from the game, you were surprised by the way Kuni froze after he tried the pudding that came with the set - the grimace he wore was enough to make you laugh, and you try to stifle your giggling for his sake as he looked away in embarrassment. “It’s alright if you don’t like it!”

“I didn’t expect it to taste so… syrupy.”

“Maybe you’ll like herbal jelly instead, if that’s the case.” You say thoughtfully as you finish the cube of custard. “It still has syrup, but that part is optional and the jelly itself is bitter.” You pause, realizing something. “Huh, the same shop should sell tea eggs too. I’ll try getting some the next time I come back from work.”

“Speaking of… how come you were able to bring me here today?” He tilted his head with the question. “The streets seem quiet, but there are so many residential buildings.”

“I have Mondays off,” You give him a wink. “So I guess you could say your timing was impeccable, for someone that didn’t know how they got here.”

Kuni huffs, a small smile gracing his lips. “I guess so.” I must’ve been really lucky to have run into you.

As the day progresses, you bring Kuni along to buy some groceries and return home. By the end of it he’s grown to walk more comfortably through crowds of people, and even asked if you could teach him to do some of the household chores.

“I don’t want to just live here without doing anything,” Kuni explained, remembering how he’s seen families in Inazuma drying the laundry outside the house. “If you teach me, I’ll be able to earn my stay and make things easier for you.”

Was that why he chatted with the clothing store’s clerk for so long? You remember bits of their conversation being about how most clothes could be washed in a machine, but others might need to be done by hand. You were paying the bill at the time though, so you didn’t hear the entire thing.

As you fold the laundry and show him how to use the washing machine, Kuni stays true to his word and continues to learn household chores from you as the days go by. The week passes by in a flash, but you surprise yourself by how normal it feels to return home and see him there, busying himself with work or reading something from your shelf.

You learn that he tends to not watch the TV unless you’re there, thinking of it as something to do with company rather than alone - not that you were complaining, of course. It was touching how he’d wait for you to come home before watching the newest show you’re binging together, but he'd also get excited about the movies you've watched before and mentioned to him were good (he agrees with some of your opinions and is open to debate about others, but at the end of the day isn't too worked up about it).

Kuni’s also started to mess around with the newspapers that you brought at his request, so that he could learn more about the type of world this was - and also do the crossword puzzles and pick out shopping vouchers for you.

You’ve thought about teaching him to use a computer, but the chance of him coming across his own information on the web held you back - that was, until you tried googling for the game, and it seems like it disappeared into thin air.

Eh?

You’d tried doing the same search on other devices not in your home, and it seems that the erasure only occurs when Kuni is nearby. It was a convenient sort of phenomenon, but it also made you start to question your entire reality; was his presence the thing that caused this? And if so, why were you the exception that’s able to remember the truth despite being by his side?

A knock on your bedroom door pulls you back to reality, and Kuni lets you know that he’d finished prepping ingredients for dinner while you were drying your hair. Despite how he doesn’t have to eat, he indulges in trying a little of everything so that he could get better at cooking - you’ve tried to tell him that the other chores he’s done were more than enough, but he insists that it’s just another skill that would be good to learn regardless.

Unable to refute that, you agree to let him make breakfast and dinner on days where you were busy, but would usually cook with him whenever you can. The speed at which he learns is a little inhuman, but then again it makes you a little proud to know that he’s a quick learner. Everyone that’s met him so far has been enamoured or at least begrudgingly accepting of Kuni, including the neighbours (who now believe he was your cousin).

Despite how you were used to being independent, you had to admit that it was nice to have someone’s company like this - even if it was a person you’d previously thought was fictional. And as for the mystery that surrounds your situation… worrying about it won’t give answers for now, so you push away the thought in favour of enjoying the new normal of your household.

“Oh, and if you don’t hurry, I might add those spices you don’t like without you seeing.”

“What?! Don’t you dare!”

>> Part 3

#yes he's gotten a little more confident/cheeky - its part of the development maybe #genshin impact scaramouche x reader #genshin kunikuzushi #kunikuzushi x reader #genshin wanderer x reader #wanderer x you #balladeer x reader #balladeer genshin #gi scaramouche #genshin scaramouche x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact reader insert #traveler wishes #genshin writing

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thebellearchives · 1 year

Text

𝐒𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐒

~ Millions Knives ; Trigun Stampede

✧˚ · . S Y N O P S I S : the first time Million Knives lays eyes on you he isn’t amused… not until you open your eyes.

‧₊˚ c o n t e n t s : knives x killer!reader, fem!reader, angst, implied trauma, mentions of blood, murder and drugs, honestly very dramatic

‧₊˚ a / n : reader is just as fucked in the head as knives, this was inspired by Skins by The Haunting because it’s just SO Knives coded i swear, anyways don’t mind me i’m just living my best “i’ll burn the world with you” life ~ i might write a second part ???

Knives’ icy blue eyes stared through the glass at your figure lying in the metal table at the other side. You were asleep, and you looked just like any other human to him. Squinting, he tried to figure out exactly what made you so important for the scientist next to him, but he couldn’t quite put a finger on it at plain sight.

“What is it”

“We caught this one by pure luck, she used to be a murderer, so we thought it would be worth the shot. Extraordinarily, she presented great resistance to the drug. Her body didn’t present any physical changes after the administration, but her physical resistance and healing capabilities reached levels similar to Double Fang. After testing her she did fall in a type of permanent slumber to recover her energy but-”

“Get to the point” Knives almost rolled his eyes.

“Right, yes, I thought you’d wanna talk to her-”

“Why would I wanna do that” the blond’s patience was starting to run out.

“She’s… interesting. I think you should see it for yourself” Knives slightly frowned and stared at the doctor with a hint of confusion mixed with curiosity.

He decided to not make any more comments as he followed the old man into the other room. William opened the door with a syringe on his hand, half filled with a clear liquid. The blond stood still next to William as he watched him inject the liquid in your neck, and then sat down in a metal chair when he left. It didn’t take you long to wake up, your eyes flung open as if an adrenaline rush had hit your bloodstream. Your dilated pupils darted towards him, and Knives’ attention was immediately caught. The aspect of your eyes and the way your stare stabbed through him gave off an aura of deranged compulsion. Interesting indeed.

“You must be Knives” your voice rang clear throughout the blinding white room.

“Yes” you slowly sit up, his eyes followed.

You didn’t know what you expected the man to look like, but you didn’t think you’d have him staring at you as if you were the most eye-catching experiment at the science fair. You straightened your back, taking note of how the muscles in your body didn’t feel like you had been knocked out for a while at all.

“What have you heard about me?” a slight frown appeared on his face, you noticed how his stare had gone from wonder to scrutiny.

“Not much. Just that you want everyone dead” you tinted your words with a slight mocking sarcasm.

“What are your thoughts on that?” his voice invited you to elaborate.

“I’m into it” shrugging, your eyes wandered through the room, not sure of what you were looking for.

“I want all humans gone. You understand that?” Knives spoke with a bit more authority than before, your stare went back to meet his “You’re human too.”

“Not anymore.” you smiled, eyes flickering to the metal table next to him, where strange liquids and a bunch of metal objects stained with blood remained untouched in loud silence.

His calm breathing was interrupted by a pause. He licked his lower lip, sight turning away from the table, trying to weigh in your words and calculate a response.

“What do you want?”

“The scientist said you’d shelter me as long as I did your dirty work. I can do that.”

He frowned again, this time in suspicion.

“That’s not what you want.”

You squinted your eyes. You had been through a lot of shit in the past few days inside of the white walls that held you now. Needles, drugs, pains, screams. But nothing compared to the years you had gone through outside, where people could be infinitely ruthless. You simply adapted, and yet you had been put a price on your head for defending yourself. So what did they want you to do? Do nothing as they left you for death? As they did everything they wanted to you and inflicted their pain pretending you were a punching bag? You were doing them a favour by getting rid of a couple individuals, really. Spilling blood in the streets joyously. Nothing like the feeling of revenge coursing through your body. Nothing like succumbing to nature, to the feeling of justice, hurt, blood running down your hands, debauchery. There were still so many things you wanted to feel.

“I want to kill them. You’ll let me take part in it, won’t you?” you leaned in towards him slowly, the way his iced eyes stared at yours felt like he had read everything he needed in them.

An almost undetectable smirk tugged from the corners of his lips.

“Sure.” he simply stood up and left the room.

You remained still for a couple of seconds, before jumping off to the floor. The cold that met your feet felt nice, and you tiptoed to the door, leaning with your back against the wall next to it. You heard William and Knives whispering to each other.

“I want eyes on her all day and night.”

“Sure thing, i’ll make sure to have someone to stay vigilant.”

“No” Knives paused for a second “send her to the piano room, I want to have her on sight myself.”

You smiled.

#; belles angst #trigun #trigun stampede #trigun stampede imagine #trigun knives #millions knives #knives x you #knives x reader #knives x y/n #millions knives x you #millions knives x reader

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burberrycanary · 4 months

Note

Hi there! I am about midway through reading your story Lost Vocabularies and it is amazing!! The whole series has been so lovely, I’m obsessed with the way you write! The way that you convey the boys complicated emotions and capture all the little nuances of their dynamic has me feral!! Beyond even them the way you inject so much personality into the locations is so good, I feel like I am there!! So thank you for writing this lovely story 💕 I was wondering if you happen to have a list of all the books that Bucky and Steve read? I have been looking up a lot of them and adding them to my to read list bc they sound so interesting lol! On that same note, how did you decide what books to mention? Are they all ones that you have read or did you do research to find ones you thought they would like?

I’ve been coming back and rereading this kind and wonderful comment in my inbox over the last few weeks when way too many massive, stressful, time-sensitive things were all happening at once. 💕 But since I have a little breather between crazy periods, I get to dive in here as a treat.

Lost Vocabularies involved a lot of research, which I hope isn’t apparent because I didn’t want there to be any noticeable difference between the parts of the story that are based on places I’d been, foods I’d tried and books I’d read personally—and what was created purely based on research. Fingers crossed that the seams don't show!

In this series, we see both Steve and Bucky use art to process—helping them understand themselves and connect to the world again. Bucky is drawn to stories while Steve as an artist is much more visual, but the underlying impulse is similar. In the same way that you learn a lot by glancing through someone’s bookshelves, what characters read is interesting to me, and revealing. This version of Bucky is a very private person so these books offer a glimpse into his inner life. And as the POV character we get to experience all these things alongside Steve.

I’m not much of a sci-fi or fantasy reader so some of Bucky’s picks were a real challenge for me. But I wanted these to be grounded in the characters and the storytelling functions, not based on my own taste and opinions, though of course those always bleed through.

Steve’s Reading List

The Day of the Triffids by John Wyndham

Alice Neel: People Come First by Kelly Baum and Randall Griffey

The Thing on the Doorstep and Other Weird Stories by H. P. Lovecraft

The Beautiful Mysterious: The Extraordinary Gaze of William Eggleston, edited by Ann J. Abadie

One Mighty and Irresistible Tide: The Epic Struggle Over American Immigration, 1924-1965 by Jia Lynn Yang

Bucky’s Reading List

The Thing on the Doorstep and Other Weird Stories by H. P. Lovecraft

A Scanner Darkly by Philip K. Dick

QED: The Strange Theory of Light and Matter by Richard Feynman

Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? by Philip K. Dick

Six Not-So-Easy Pieces: Einstein's Relativity, Symmetry, and Space-Time by Richard Feynman

Nonlinear Dynamics And Chaos by Steven H. Strogatz

Stranger in a Strange Land by Robert A. Heinlein

I’ve included some notes and commentary on why I picked each of these works under the cut.

The Same River, Twice (The Man Is Still Left with His Hands)

The Day of the Triffids by John Wyndham

Classic post-WWII dystopian sci-fi that focuses on society collapsing after a series of catastrophes that were unintentional but very much caused by people, which leads to a lot of the population becoming blind. Thematically this work engages with the loss of identity that people, both abled and disabled, face in the process of survival and a dark look at what happens after societies break down. How this applies to Bucky is obvious, but part of the argument of this post-Endgame series is that it applies to Steve, too.

Also, there are huge mobile carnivorous plants.

Fun fact: the opening of this novel is said to have been the inspiration for 28 Days Later!

Still Left with the River (The Paradox of Motion)

Alice Neel: People Come First by Kelly Baum and Randall Griffey

Alice Neel’s portraits are extraordinary, almost unnervingly vivid. In this story, Steve is familiar with her work as a fellow New York-based artist active in communist circles in the 1930s. She also worked for the WPA, producing wonderful street scenes that documented New York neighborhoods of the era.

To be honest, I have so many questions about what Steve was up to in the late 1930s before his war mania of the 40s hits.

One of the core themes of this series is Steve struggling with what his body is for if it’s no longer for violence. Who is he if he’s not a soldier? What is his radically changed body if it’s not a weapon? How do you come home from the war?

In this regard, Steve and Bucky have all kinds of shared life experience.

So thematically I include Neel because of her startling gift for capturing personalities and bodies through a process of frank, earnest, truthful observation of the integrated completeness of body and self: this space that’s you.

But a book of Alice Neel’s work with her sensitive portraits and fleshy frank nudes pulls him into flipping through page after page of these personalities and bodies, not idealized: seen.

Steve isn’t ready for that when he bumps into this big “impractical” art book in a holdover Barnes & Noble in Brooklyn, not when he’s still so shook up and adrift. But he will be.

There’s such empathy and radical humanism to her pieces. “People,” as she famously said, “come first.” I stand by the conclusion that Steve would love her work.

The Thing on the Doorstep and Other Weird Stories by H. P. Lovecraft

Lovecraft was relatively unknown in his lifetime—he died in 1937—but his stories were published in popular fantasy pulp magazines like Weird Tales and Astounding Stories, which is where Bucky would have come across his work. The fact that Steve recognizes Lovecraft by name means that teenage Bucky must have talked about what he was reading and the pulp stories he liked with teenage Steve, which is adorable—“this Lovecraft fellow, Steve, you wouldn’t believe the stuff he comes up with.” And Steve was paying attention enough to remember two decades and change later without the benefit of his serum-enhanced memory, which hurts my heart a little in the best possible way.

That’s how Steve all these years and decades later is able to wordlessly toss this collection of H. P. Lovecraft’s stories at Bucky on a hot hazy stumbled-upon beach in northern Florida and watch Bucky’s whole face light up.

And of course Bucky would view Lovecraft as a great beach read 😂

But this is the basis for something I’ve written into this series: Bucky excitedly sharing things he finds interesting with Steve—wanting to tell Steve first, Steve most. And although Steve is quiet, stoical and very self-contained, he’s paying a whole hell of a lot of attention.

Given that Bucky is canonically a Tolkien fan, I think the imaginativeness and ranging scope of Lovecraft’s complex, often interconnected stories would appeal to him. And, thematically, Lovecraft is distinctive for the era for having characters psychologically fragment when confronting these vast inhuman others.

“The Call of Cthulhu” opens with:

The most merciful thing in the world, I think, is the inability of the human mind to correlate all its contents. We live on a placid island of ignorance in the midst of black seas of infinity, and it was not meant that we should voyage far.

Steve and Bucky have each voyaged out a long way.

Trauma, in a way, is a form of terrible knowledge. You can heal but you can’t unknow things.

Not Language but a Map (The Grammar of Sensation)

A Scanner Darkly by Philip K. Dick

This is the first book in the series that we see Bucky pick for himself. And, wow, he picks a doozy with themes of multiple and unstable identities, invasive surveillance, manipulation, psychosis, and how individuals can get chewed up by larger systems, falling through the cracks of society. Dick was writing based on his own troubled experiences with southern California drug culture of the early 70s, but this work gets at much more fundamental darknesses that I think would speak to some of the horrors Bucky has gone through and won’t talk about, not even with Steve.

Within the first few pages, we get this:

It was midday, in June of 1994. In California, in a tract area of cheap but durable plastic houses, long ago vacated by the straights. Jerry had at an earlier date sprayed metal paint over all the windows, though, to keep out the light; the illumination for the room came from a pole lamp into which he had screwed nothing but spot lamps, which shone day and night, so as to abolish time for him and his friends. He liked that; he liked to get rid of time. By doing that he could concentrate on important things without interruption.

The Beautiful Mysterious: The Extraordinary Gaze of William Eggleston, edited by Ann J. Abadie

Eggleston was an early pioneer in color photography and that fascination with color is very apparent in his work. I think this focus would grab Steve as an artist who doesn’t take seeing the full spectrum of color for granted. Even in the MCU’s thin action-film scripts, Steve comments on things that offend his aesthetic sensibilities even when that has absolutely no bearing on the situation at hand, from Stark Tower to Lang’s van.

Not even a world-ending crisis can keep Steve from going, wow, no, that’s ugly. I enjoyed running with that 😂

Steve’s view of Eggleston’s photographs shifts over the course of the series, reflecting what he’s feeling, from the fragmented and disconnected detachment—“isolated and off-kilter”— that he sees in them at the beginning that shifts to the passionate engagement in the world he finds in them later.

Steve looks through the whole book of William Eggleston’s photographs again and at first the colors still roll over him like the shockwave of a distant explosion, all he can focus on. But gradually the subjects and compositions pull forward, too: monumentalized images of the everyday that at first seem neutral, the work of a detached observer. But the off-center framing of ordinary life is so deliberate as though everything might be important and where every detail deserves attention—that’s nothing like neutral. That’s not detached at all. You have to care a whole hell of a lot.

This mirrors the journey this post-Endgame Steve goes on. Because Steve Rogers should be a character who cares a whole hell of a lot, not what the MCU writers eventually reduced him to. And that’s what this fix-it is trying to fix.

Lost Vocabularies that Might Express (The Memory of These Broken Impressions)

QED: The Strange Theory of Light and Matter by Richard Feynman

I love writing Bucky as a big fucking science nerd. His last night in New York and how does he want to spend the time? At a science fair with his best friend and a couple of pretty girls. So Bucky reading about quantum electrodynamics is delightful to me. The thing is, though, Bucky is a bright enough guy with a high school education. He’s not a genius—and the MCU is lousy with geniuses. But if Bucky wanted to learn a little more about all this quantum stuff he heard about in passing during some vague and very improbable sounding explanations, which by the way also allowed one of the few people still living who truly matters to him and the closest thing Bucky had left to family to fuck off to the past, well, Feynman’s QED isn’t a bad place to start in understanding some of this quantum stuff, at least.

Feynman here is very much writing for a popular audience. His writing is conversational—the book is adapted from a set of lectures he gave—and his voice is witty, casual and surprisingly light, but at the same time Feynman is deeply invested in helping lay people understand quantum mechanics. The book opens with:

Alix Mautner was very curious about physics and often asked me to explain things to her. I would do all right, just as I do with a group of students at Caltech that come to me for an hour on Thursdays, but eventually I’d fail at what is to me the most interesting part: We would always get hung up on the crazy ideas of quantum mechanics. I told her I couldn’t explain these ideas in an hour or an evening—it would take a long time—but I promised her that someday I’d prepare a set of lectures on the subject.

I prepared some lectures, and I went to New Zealand to try them out—because New Zealand is far enough away that if they weren’t successful, it would be all right! Well, the people in New Zealand thought they were okay, so I guess they’re okay—at least for New Zealand! So here are the lectures I really prepared for Alix, but unfortunately I can’t tell them to her directly, now.

C’mon! Tell me Bucky Barnes would not be hooked by this opening.

Thematically, and more seriously, the question of how could Steve do this? has two very different meanings. So far in this series Bucky isn’t ready to confront the harder version of that question which comes potentially with some very painful answers: how could Steve make that choice? Nope, he’s not ready for that. Instead, his brain unconsciously takes the easier way out: trying to understand quantum electrodynamics. 😂😭

Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? by Philip K. Dick

Bucky must have liked A Scanner Darkly, because he went for another Philip K. Dick novel. Today remembered mostly as the source material for Blade Runner, this bleak dystopian novel is set in the aftermath of a devastating nuclear war that destroys most life on Earth. The work has themes around empathy—who feels empathy and for what?—materialism and what really makes us human.

I find it interesting how Sebastian Stan talks about The Winter Soldier in terms of someone who has undergone a process of total desensitization, which to varying degrees is deliberately part of the training of all soldiers. But rebuilding his core sense of empathy was one of the things Bucky chose to do as soon as he had any agency in that two-year period where he was on the run, which is remarkable. As a person who has been treated as though he wasn’t human and had his empathy forcibly stripped from him, I think Bucky would have a lot of complicated feelings about the enslaved androids who escape but are ruthlessly tracked down and killed. Some of these escaped androids are dangerous and do lack basic empathy—shown in the book by torturing and mutilating an animal—while other androids seem like ordinary people just trying to live their lives.

I like that Bucky talks about the book with Steve later in the story, returning in my view to a very old habit of bookworm Bucky wanting to share what he’d been reading with Steve <333

“I need to find something to read next,” Bucky says after wrapping up his description of an imagined religion that involved plugging into a box to virtually suffer the existence of a man forever walking up a steep hill while struck by crashing stones.

“Well, did the androids dream of electric sheep?” Steve asks.

“Who knows?” Bucky knocks into him gently as he takes the bowl Steve passes over. “They just wanted to be free. Though the free people just wanted to own stuff or plug into a box and suffer. So, you know, sort of a grim outlook. ”

“A little light, cheerful reading.”

“Hey, we live in a world where people write ‘Take back what’s yours’ in the streets and then smash up the windows. Dystopias don’t seem so far off the mark.”

Six Not-So-Easy Pieces: Einstein's Relativity, Symmetry, and Space-Time by Richard Feynman

Another case of Bucky sticking with an author he likes! To me, this implies that Bucky has already read Feynman’s Six Easy Pieces, which explains some of the foundational basics of physics for a very broad and non-technical audience. Six Not-So-Easy Pieces is also drawn from Feynman’s famous Lectures on Physics, focusing here on relativity and space-time, but this work assumes a greater knowledge of math, hence the name. But as a legendary sniper Bucky must have a strong aptitude for math and anyway I just leaned into making Bucky an all-around nerd, because Bucky Barnes, nerd who grew up hot, is delightful to me.

Relativity, Symmetry, and Space-Time are all on point for a post-Endgame fix-it, which I think should count as a not-so-easy piece in its own right.

Throughout the series, we see Bucky using physical copies when he reads fiction, more or less from unconscious nostalgia: connecting back to memories of his younger self who was an avid reader of pulp magazines and cheap paperbacks. Once Steve gets him going with that first quietly tossed-over gift, Bucky always carries around a sci-fi or fantasy book in this series despite the limited space in his backpack. And this familiarity wouldn’t just be from his pre-war life since I figure Bucky would have gone for the Armed Services Editions that were distributed for free to soldiers. Bucky likely traded with other soldiers once he finished a book if he couldn’t get a new ASE distribution: trading in his finished novel for a new one is Bucky unconsciously falling back into another old habit.

But for non-fiction, Bucky is absolutely here for the Modern Marvel of being able to carry around as many books as he likes on his phone. I figure Bucky would have used public libraries during certain stages of his recovery when he was homeless and migratory since they are a place to get information that is consistently available in cities; and a warm, quiet place you can go with a minimal number of security cameras. I headcanon a middle-aged librarian who has a few streaks of gray in her dark hair—and who reminds Bucky of someone but he has no idea who—explaining what e-books are to this tall, gaunt, soft-spoken homeless guy with an eye contact problem. And this person who isn’t the Asset anymore and isn’t Bucky Barnes yet has the out-of-nowhere thought: huh, whaddaya know. That’s pretty neat.

Nonlinear Dynamics And Chaos: With Applications To Physics, Biology, Chemistry, And Engineering by Steven H. Strogatz

Isolated systems tend to evolve towards a single equilibrium and these equilibrium points have been the focus of many-body research for centuries. But life is generally not that simple because most systems aren’t isolated. Often the dynamics of a system result from the product of multiple different interacting forces and objects in these systems can change between multiple different attractor wells over time. Or as Strogatz puts it:

As we’ve mentioned earlier, most nonlinear systems are impossible to solve analytically. Why are nonlinear systems so much harder to analyze than linear ones? The essential difference is that linear systems can be broken down into parts. Then each part can be solved separately and finally recombined to get the answer. This idea allows a fantastic simplification of complex problems, and underlies such methods as normal modes, Laplace transforms, superposition arguments, and Fourier analysis. In this sense, a linear system is precisely equal to the sum of its parts.

But many things in nature don’t act this way. Whenever parts of a system interfere, or cooperate, or compete, there are nonlinear interactions going on. Most of everyday life is nonlinear, and the principle of superposition fails spectacularly.

You can think of nonlinear dynamics as situations in which the sum of the parts is insufficient to understand the whole. This connects to multiple themes in this story as Bucky and Steve try to understand themselves, their lives and each other. But here Bucky is also just continuing to live his best life as a nerd with a strong intuitive knack for math, a high school education, an internet connection and a growing collection of science e-books. Or as Bucky puts it:

“It’s nice, though, like this smart guy is just talking to you but doesn’t assume you’re dumb because of what you don’t know.”

It’s touched on only very lightly in the series so far, but Bucky has a lot of complex feelings about higher education that relate to class, indirectly to sexuality, and go back to the experience of being the son of upwardly mobile working-class immigrants who were very bought-in on a traditional take on the American Dream.

Stranger in a Strange Land by Robert A. Heinlein

I picked this partly because I thought the title would grab Bucky, who has been a stranger in a strange land several times over. Thematically this midcentury sci-fi novel focuses on challenging social norms through having the main character, a human who’d been raised by Martians on Mars, come back to Earth as an adult. A best-seller in its day that was controversial for its rejection of Christianity, monogamy and the nuclear family, the work is very tied to the looming cultural changes of the 60s and 70s.

The novel’s critical reputation has been steadily in decline for decades, but I think Bucky would find it interesting since he grew up within the traditional early 20th-century culture this novel satirizes and challenges—mores that this story’s version of Bucky didn’t unquestioningly accept but didn’t openly challenge, either.

Having Bucky pick this novel reflects the themes for the last act of this story that focus more on Steve and Bucky's different experiences as closeted queer men growing up in a deeply homophobic society. These experiences continue to shape and impact them and yet are also a past these two are coming to terms with and growing beyond.

Fun fact: this novel coined the word “grok.”

One Mighty and Irresistible Tide: The Epic Struggle Over American Immigration, 1924-1965 by Jia Lynn Yang

Of all the books featured in this series, One Mighty and Irresistible Tide is my top recommendation. This is an accessible, well-written history of a topic that haunts American history: immigration. The specific focus is the waves of legislation passed in the first half of the 20th century that tried—and often succeeded—in limiting who could legally immigrate based on the racial and ethnic hierarchies that equally haunt American history, right down to the foundation.

In this series, I wanted to pick up the themes of social justice and immigration that were so vaguely and incoherently included in TFATWS. These themes are inherent in the Snap and Return plotline except that Disney does not want to touch any of these politics with a ten-foot pole. But I remain fascinated by trying to wrap my mind around what it would mean for half the population to vanish and then return five years later, catastrophically in both cases. It’s a huge, intricate, sticky, difficult world-building problem that’s inescapably political.

Steve isn’t quite ready to dive into facing or helping to fix the problems of the post-Return world that his actions helped to create. But here we get to see Steve’s burned-out passion and conviction slowly rekindle as he reads about the complicated and often ugly history of American immigration—and he gets mad about it. Of course, he gets mad about it! This is my answer to the ludicrous idea that Steve Rogers could quietly sit out the second half of the twentieth century.

At the same time, I can have compassion for Steve knowing he can’t keep going but not knowing how to help himself, only to be given the cursed monkey’s paw of time travel. And he fucks up. His actions have real and lasting consequences. But that doesn’t make the situation hopeless or mean Steve can’t try to repair the relationships he damaged or work to regain the trust he lost, assuming he’s lucky enough to be given another chance by people who love him but have been hurt by his choices.

One of the greatest challenges in writing this Endgame fix-it was accepting Endgame as the starting point of the story and trying to reconcile a character I love with the choices canon has him make. Over the course of these stories, the central point isn’t Steve coming back to Bucky. It’s Steve coming back to himself. Through a slow and painful struggle, Steve finds himself again—rediscovering his stubborn endurance, his compassion for others and his drive to set wrongs right. Steve stumbled, badly, but he gets back up. Because that’s who Steve Rogers is.

And because of who Bucky Barnes is—his innate kindness, his warm-hearted generosity and his stubborn loyalty that isn’t blind but runs deep—that’s how these two characters come back to each other, after everything.

Deliberately, this series is the first hard-fought and hopeful glimmer in a long trudging process that can get so heavy to carry forward, day after day, but is shot through with moments of beauty and joy all the same.

I can't go on; I'll go on.

In other words, to quote one of my favorite poets: what the living do.

#thanks for the ask!#and the lovely comment #<333 #book recommendations #stucky #stucky meta #lost vocabularies that might express #otp: till the end of the line #otp: even when i had nothing i had you #the existential loneliness of steven g. rogers #bucky barnes needs a hug #steve rogers also needs a hug #steve makes better choices #he's trying folks #all of my stories end up including a bunch of art and history #and I'm okay with that

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r3n0-5 · 2 months

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About Bungou Stray Dogs

I’m happier than ever now that I found a new husband, damn, Asagiri really can write… despite some things, I feel like there are things he still needs to polish, and at the same time I find myself gasping, crying, smiling, having all sorts of feelings I’m not supposed to be able to feel -or recognize ‘cause I have alexitimya- thanks to him, I love his work so much that it doesn’t matter how many words I write, it won’t ever come close to what I actually think about it, it was so good that motivated me to write again, to paint, to draw, I can’t stop creating, he inspired me in ways I have never seen before, maybe it’s because we’re so alike, I noticed that through his work, we’re so besties even when we don’t know each other, I would even dare to say that we were through some similar things in life, he said that his work is not for the ones that are outside and live their lives and don’t need stories like these to feel like they are actually living, he was so right with that one, yes, I really do need stories like oxygen in order to live, and he’s the same, he knows it, he’s aware of it and doesn’t plan to change it, and why bother? Books became an obsession for me from such a young age, and they still are for me and thousands of introverts on the world, his storytelling touches my soul for a reason, ‘cause even when we never met we share likes, experiences, interests, suffering, we live in the same planet, it's amazing when literature can make you feel for an instance you’re not alone, happened to me when I read poets and writers from hundreds of years ago, specifically with Dostoevsky, I could feel his pain, I was feeling so out of place before, Poe was there for me when I had no one, so many critique their words, but it’s because they write about the cruel reality of life that everyone’s loves to ignore ‘cause living in their little happy bubbles is more comfortable, happiness can’t exist without sadness, How would you appreciate those moments when you smile next to someone you love if you haven’t cried your eyes out before? How are you gonna appreciate life if there’s no death? What would be your purpose in living then? That’s when stories like these come to hug you, to tell you you’re not the first one to experience this or that, you’re human, you’re just being alive, and it’s completely ok to feel desperation, terror, madness, loneliness, hate, whatever it is, you won’t be the last feeling those either, isolate if you need to, let your body process what consequences breathing brings, and then rest, heal, and then live again, to anyone reading this, you’re not alone, doesn’t matter how much it looks like you are, an the end, we’re all connected through this thing we call life.

And that’s why I can connect with him and his characters, he writes them in a way that feels alive, he lets them have actual feelings, and that lets me know them more, like their motives, their way of seeing life, and I can empathize with them and feel like I’m living with them, that I’m also a part of the story, and there’s counted works that made me feel that way, so I’m thankful that I decided to watch/read, this series, I understand why, even when Bungou Stray Dogs has a small fandom, they are loud and dedicated enough for it to be noticed by other fandoms, I understand now why they love it so bad, and they made it reach someone like me, I have stopped consuming anime for a long time, I didn’t find it entertaining anymore, but this was a different one, a unique one, a work I want to consume and know more about, the anime wasn’t enough, I’m planning to read the manga, and most of all, I’m excited to read the novels, please Asagiri keep painting a world I want to be part of

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filmmakerdreamst · 1 year

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“Life with Derek” is Back Again!

Life with Luca is a hour and a half spin-off movie based on the 2000’s Canadian Sitcom Life with Derek, set eighteen years after its predecessor. The story follows two step-siblings, Casey McDonald (Ashley Leggat), now a court lawyer and mother of three. And Derek Venturi (Michael Seater), now a successful musician in Paris and a single dad. As history repeats itself, they both have rebellious fourteen year old teenagers, pushing their buttons. So in order to get a break, they both have the idea of dropping them off with their grandparents for their anniversary, and to their surprise, they end up meeting each other instead. With help, they figure out how to co-parent their kids together for a weekend, and hijinks naturally ensue.

The original show Life with Derek was all about a blended family. In which two teenage step-siblings, Casey and Derek (the eldest children in the household and equally self absorbed), clash; fighting each other to take control of the house, their younger siblings, their school and their world.

The episodes consisted of simple, domestic family antics, containing smart jokes that would make adults and children alike laugh. The storylines were mature enough for teenagers to be interested but not so mature that it would put children off from watching.

Life with Derek was a show that prided itself in being character driven and more realistic than some of the family shows that was airing around that time, especially on networks such as Disney Channel.

However, it became well known and successful to this day for the slow burning subtextual “love affair” between the two step-siblings, Casey and Derek which undoubtedly acted as the backbone of the series. And the reason why it got picked up for a reboot fifteen years after the final episode aired.

When I first read the premise of Life with Luca (when the announcement came out that they were going to make a Life with Derek reboot in 2020), I was immediately judgemental as often reboots can erase character growth. It just seemed like another manufactured money making remake (a copy for the next generation) rather than an actual continuation of the original show.

And while the movie does have alot of tropes repeated from the original i.e. Casey and Derek’s kids Skyler and Luca clash from the beginning, two families not really knowing each other previously merging for the first time etc. The writers had the ability to make these tropes most importantly character driven and natural so the audience didn’t notice the similarities so much. And when they did, it’s treated as a familiar nod rather than a direct copy.

Luca and Skyler

Part of the fun of the original was the ongoing romantic tension between Casey and Derek, and I was worried we were going to have a repeat of that with their kids, Luca and Skyler but thankfully the casting and writing department was alot more thorough. And while they do clash at the beginning, its presented more of a culture clash because of how they were raised, and it evolved into a familial relationship quite quickly. I loved watching their bonding moments.

They managed to keep the core message from the original ‘of family and building a family even when you hate your situation at the beginning’. I felt they did a good job of mirroring that message with Luca and Skyler.

Out of the two, I felt like Skyler was the more fleshed out. The casting for her was amazing, she looks just like Derek’s daughter. I loved how, even though she was clearly meant to be the ‘Casey character’ — organised and dramatic — she still had her own vibe. She had the carefree attitude and style from Derek’s parenting, but still was able to be responsible as she essentially raised herself.

Luca, (the ‘Derek’ character) the more rebellious counterpart, is suggested to be acting out due to his chaotic home life, rather than that’s just “how he is” unlike Derek who was labelled as the bad guy from the start. He’s still very much Casey’s son as he doesn’t have some of the toxic masculinity that Derek possessed in the original show. And he has a few neurotic tendencies from her style of parenting as well. But I almost feel we didn’t get enough of him.

If and when Life with Luca does get picked up as a TV Series later on, it would be nice to flesh out his character alot more (and hers), because there was clearly alot of conflict that the two of them both had, his dad working overseas and her mum having a bran new family, that can’t really be fleshed out thoroughly in a hour and a half film.

George and Nora

George and Nora’s plot was by far the most ridiculous (hint, jewel thief car chase), but I loved seeing them on screen again. It was nice to see how their relationship was still going strong after all this time. Along with their cameo, there were some other great ones such as Sam and Mr Lassiter. It was a shame we didn’t get to see the rest of the blended family such as Edwin and Lizzie and Marti, even for a second at the anniversary party at the end. But I understand the screenwriters wanted to save that for a TV Series later on, so they could be fully explored more.

Simon

Simon, the youngest of the McDonald-Venturi’s (that was a storyline for the last two episodes of the original) was by far my favourite addition to the film. This was surprising, since that storyline in Life with Derek wasn’t exactly my favourite around the time of watching because I don’t necessarily agree that the step-family gaining a shared child made them “a proper family”. Thankfully, Life with Luca proved me wrong as he was so lovable. I loved how he was a perfect mix of both of the McDonalds and the Venturi’s, but mostly the Venturi’s as he was so clumsy.

Casey and Derek

As always, the strongest parts of the movie, were when they were focusing on Casey and Derek, individually and together. I loved how they went with careers that naturally meshed with their personalities. Casey being a married lawyer in Toronto and Derek being a travelling musician in Paris with his daughter as a best friend. Watching Derek be a parent was amazing, especially since he was shown to be really good with kids in the original.

When the two finally meet up again, the audience can see that their friendship has definitely progressed; they have finally learnt to respect one another even though they haven’t spoken one on one for a long time. But they still maintained their comedic banter. It was refreshing to see that character growth. It was nice that it hadn’t backtracked in typical reboot fashion for the sake of drama/entertainment since that relationship was the core of why the original worked.

Now in the original show, Life with Derek, it was never confirmed that Casey and Derek had romantic feelings for each other, but there was alot of speculation by the fans, because of all the subtext going on throughout the series.

The actors, Michael Seater and Ashley Leggat, put a rest to some of the speculation in 2016 and confirmed in a article by MTV that because ‘the fans were so into Casey and Derek being a couple, [they] would find subtext in their lines to give the fans what they desire’

Life with Derek was primarily about the first four years that they [Casey and Derek] lived together. Their relationship mostly consisted of an antagonistic push and pull/tug of war even though at the end of the day, they were always there for each other when it really counted. Even though Casey and Derek claimed to dislike each other, it was very clear that the two had developed a deep bond over the course of the series.

However, Casey and Derek’s relationship in Life with Luca is interesting in a way that they’re no longer in a “sibling dynamic” in which they were previously forced into. Mostly because they’re no longer teenagers and the fact that they’ve barely interacted or lived together in eighteen years since life both took them in very different directions. Which creates a paradox in itself.

It’s this incredibly grey area throughout the movie where they’re adjusting to each other again, slipping into their old bickering, confiding in each other about parenthood, all while transitioning into a mum and dad dynamic while they’re co-parenting the children they had with other people.

Before the movie came out, I was positive, because of the criticisms and hype surrounding the show and the pairing, that the writers were going to diminish the potential of a romance between the characters in fear of backlash. For example, have Casey in a happy marriage, Derek dating around and eventually gain a love interest at the end of the film. Also, trying to make their relationship as “Sibling- Esque” as possible.

Even though I knew from the premise of the reboot, that they were going to move in together, and there would be a few romantic undertones scattered in for the fans, I’d thought they’d play it off more as an “aunt and uncle babysitting the kids”.

But the opposite ended up happening. Casey has an absent husband who continuously leaves her and her kids alone while he plays hockey over seas — breaking his promises that he was going to retire before their kids were teenagers. Derek supposedly hasn’t dated anyone in fourteen years nor mentions flirting with other women. He even has a distant relationship with his daughters mum.

The moment Derek comes, he almost takes ‘the role of her husband’ as he sees Casey isn’t doing so well. He does the cooking for their kids — Casey even mentions that her husband does all the cooking while Derek is preparing dinner — babysits her little ones, attempts to calm Casey down when she’s getting too stressed, helps arrange an anniversary party for their parents so she’s able to get on with her work. And even though, they are referred as “Aunt” and “Uncle” in the movie, it’s also made apparent that they’re essentially “Mum and Dad” to their children as well.

One of Casey’s little ones, Molly even makes a “catch it or you’ll miss it” comment to Derek’s kid in one scene “I wish we were cousins AND sisters.”

Their last scene together at the end of the movie, Casey comes up to Derek saying ‘You’re gonna come home again soon, before the kids go to university?’ in which Derek heavily implies that he wants to move into her guest house to potentially raise their kids together, making a direct parallel to her husband not retiring from hockey and coming home from Europe, even after their kids grew up.

That moment is possibly why I came out from watching the movie thinking ‘If Casey and Derek don’t get together after this; then it’s bad writing’ because their scenes in the reboot didn’t feel like random “fanservice moments” like in the original; it felt like a genuine setup for a romance. Even if it can’t be written explicitly, due to the network, it is the most logical ending for their characters and the movie just made that ending seem even more inevitable.

Despite my enjoyment of Life with Luca, and overall it being a Great Comeback of a 2000’s Classic — it’s not a movie that can really work on its own. Finishing it left me feeling unsatisfied and wanting more. It felt very much like an introduction than a complete product. Its very apparent they made this movie so it could be picked up as a TV series later on, since there is alot of plot threads that are unexplored, unfinished or left open.

Life with Luca is not a reunion movie. It’s only page one.

“Life with Derek” is Back Again! by Ellie Hersey

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