#he slowly lost enthusiasm before walking off and they expressed deep confusion over it

[nosomatsu]

(( suddenly thinking about ichimatsu and the riceball's hunt for cats again.. small analysis beneath the cut ))

it's fascinating that while ichi enjoyed it at first, the reason he went so numb to it so fast wasn't because he disliked cats. rather, he realized now that he had no real excuse to even go out of the house for extended periods anymore. ichimatsu doesn't enjoy being a hikikomori, it's pretty painfully clear that it's super fucking isolating for him. finding cats was the sole thing that could even get him out of bed most days.

... but now that he knows where all the cats are , what's even the point? he could go there and go right back home. now he has no reason to even TRY to go out of the house. i mean he still would to feed them and see them, but he would be miserable unless he found kitties in unexpected places. the search is the biggest reason he enjoyed it so much and the riceballs kind of ruined tht for him for a little while, albeit unintentionally.

the only other times he really goes out is if his brothers drag him along or the nightly safe care shit. but the thing about that is, like . . . they don't drag him out often at all. and it's very rare that he can muster up the energy to go on his own. it's not impossible or unheard of, but when he does, he also walks the least busy / lesser known routes, where he runs into as little people as possible. he goes to the park only when it's incredibly isolated. he probably only goes for oden because it's so isolated / out of the way at night that rarely anyone goes there.

we only ever see him out and about in public places if it's with his brothers but even then he keeps his head down and tries to avoid talking to everyone. the cats were the only reason he'd go out of the house when his brothers aren't around or they can't convince him to go anywhere. the idea of not knowing where he could find one is the one thing that kept him going and walking, trying out new places he'd never been to before even if he was ANXIOUS AS HELL ABOUT IT.

in his mind, it was his first step forward to be more independent and breaking the vicious homebody hikikomori cycle, and it was actually one of few things he isn't burningly numb / actually does have strong emotions about whether he realizes it or not ( although i err on, he's the kind of depressed where he worries he's numb entirely and can't feel anymore but then something Happens that proves otherwise and it always makes him [shocked pikachu] when he does still VERY MUCH FEEL EMOTIONS )

so. yeah. his spirit and tendency to go out on his own for a little while was absolutely crushed. I think it was even more noticable how glum he was so his brothers tried to get him out of the house WAY more often -- aaand that's why we see him in so many morie social situations he'd usually be caught DEAD before ever attending. although he's grumpy on the outside, he does seem to appreciate it. he has sincere and extreme trouble expressing his gratitude, but it cannot be understated how much that helped his mental health in the long run.

Evidently, it eventually healed, and he never once blamed the cats -- but there's a speck of bitterness and disappointment at the riceballs which he tries to smother. they could never and would never be able to understand the weird way he approached thinking about the search. they were confused when he got upset with being shown every place cats could possibly be, and even if he DID try to explain it, they still probably wouldn't have gotten it.

after all, it's not very logical, and certainly is a VERY strange line of thinking. but it is who ichimatsu is -- a shut in, who is desperate for any excuse to leave the house on his own and gain the courage to do so on a more regular basis. when the sole thing that kept him exploring and getting out on his own loses all meaning, he falls into a pretty bad headspace about it and becomes more of a shut in than ever.

thank goodness that his brothers didn't let that happen for too long, though. <:)

[miekasa]

homecoming (levi ackerman)

↯ pairing: levi ackerman x (fem) reader

↯ genres and warnings: college au, how many ways can i fit levi’s captain status into the modern world, fluff

↯ notes: i love levi :// and i’m out of gifs to put at the top of these, so when i learn how to make headers i’ll let you guys know. also this isn’t proofread rip in peace 

↯ summary: there’s a pretty well known homecoming tradition, and levi’s hoping you’re willing to partake in it. 

“So,” you hum, wiping away any crumbs from your mouth, “Are you going to tell me exactly why you wanted to have a picnic at 2:30 in the afternoon on a random Thursday, or am I supposed to wait for a grand reveal?”

Levi rolls his eyes, and sips on his wine, ignoring your incoming giggles. “Can’t I want to take you on a date?” he clicks his tongue, setting his, now empty, plastic wine cup onto the picnic blanket, “Ungrateful brat.”

You smack him on the arm, mouth open in offense; but Levi’s chuckling, shoulder’s shaking at your reaction. “I am a very grateful brat,” you correct him, “But I am also very suspicious one.”

Levi hums, not bothering to reply. Instead, he separates the two halves of his sandwich, wraps one half around a napkin, and hands it to you. You accept it, albeit a little hesitantly, and watch as Levi pays you no mind, biting into his half neatly.

If it were any normal situation, you’d probably try to snap a picture of him—you have somewhat of an ongoing collection of sneaky pictures of Levi on your dates, particularly when he looks cute munching on his food, much to his disdain—but this was not a normal situation.

Levi is acting strange. It’s not just the nature of this date itself—it may be out of character for Levi to want to go on a picnic of all things, but could be quite the romantic at heart, and often planned very quaint dates for the both of you. It was everything that happened since you set up your picnic that was truly out of the ordinary.

Like the way he seemed distracted, getting lost in thought in a way you hadn’t seen before; and how he kept sweeping his hair out of his eyes, and readjusting his small silver earring. If you didn’t know any better, you would think he’s nervous about something.

“Seriously,” you say lightly, carefully setting your half-eaten portion of the sandwich back onto the blanket, “What’s this all about?”

Levi looks at you for a beat, once again using his free hand to brush his dark hair behind his ear, then with suspecting eyes, “You don’t like it?”

Your eyebrows draw together at his questioning, confused by the lack of sarcasm, or even hurt in his tone; like he was genuinely surprised.

“What? No, Levi, that’s not what I meant,” you assure him, “I just mean that this isn’t really us. You hate eating outside—you always make us wait for indoor seating—and, if I’m being honest, I’ve never seen a couple go on a picnic in real life.”

Levi reaches to pour more cheap wine into your faux glasses, “I guess romance really is dead.”

You squint your eyes, carefully tracking his movements as he hands you a plastic cup before refilling his own. Levi isn’t one to dodge questions, or any kind of confrontation. Now you know for sure that something’s up.

“Levi,” you call gently, feeling like you finally have his full focus when his eyes meet yours, “What’s going on?”

His gaze softens at your question this time, and you finally see a hint of the Levi you know behind his expression. He sighs, carefully closing the boxed wine, and taking his cup into his hand. With a slight head nod, he motions for you to come closer, and you obiiently shuffle closer to him, until you’re sitting side by side.

You take the liberty of resting your head on his shoulder, cheek soft against his coat. You can hear him take a deep breath, feel his exhale deflate his shoulders, before he speaks.

“Homecoming is next weekend,” he starts, “You’re going, yeah?”

You hum in affirmation, watching as he takes a careful sip from his cup before continuing.

“There’s this tradition. It’s stupid as shit, if you ask me, so you don’t have to say yes,” he mumbles, lips barely off of the plastic, before he takes another sip. “But, if you’re dating someone, they’re supposed to show up to the game in your jersey.”

You snap your head up from his shoulder, blinking at Levi and the implications of his words, as you begin to piece together the mystery of his actions from this afternoon. Levi—your Levi—took you on a picnic, complete with homemade sandwiches and cheap wine, to ask you to be his date to his homecoming game.

Your stunned silence is filled with light breeze that brushes past your hair, and makes Levi return to brushing his away again. He drinks in your expression, grey eyes growing cloudy as he assumes the worst of your silence.

“Like I said, you don’t have to if you don’t want to,” he explains cooly, bringing his cup to his mouth again for a bitter sip, “I didn’t know if you were going to stick around for the whole day anyways, you’ve probably got other shit to—”

You kiss him quiet. Levi is surprised at first, jolts a little bit when your actions cause him to spill some of his drink, but he kisses you back, a small wave of relief washing over him. At least he didn’t make a complete fool of himself just now.

“Of course I’ll wear your jersey, Levi.”

Most parents and alumni stuck around for the traditional football game, but the boys’ soccer team was always popular amongst students, and for good reason.

Not only did the university’s team have an exceptional record, but they had no shortage of eye-candy playing for them, either. Even the team’s managers were pretty cute. You were certain players like Armin Arlert and Eren Jaeger were not plastered all over the university website solely for their soccer skills.

Though, good looks aside, they were undeniably good, and made a damn impressive pair on the field. However, most of the crowd would agree that Jaeger, Arlert, and the entire team, could thank their captain for their win today.

You step onto the field with a wide grin as you watch Levi’s team wrangle him into the middle of their circle and toss him up in the air unceremoniously. You almost want to capture the moment for yourself, but to your left, Hange is already recording a video you’re certain Levi would threaten to have deleted.

Most of the mob had fizzled away after the exciting win, leaving behind the team themselves, and a couple of students—likely friends or family of the athletes. After their final huddle, the boys begin to dissipate, greet the remaining crowd. Hange leaves you to badger Erwin, who had been sitting out due to an injury.

You spot Levi carefully picking up his duffel bag, and take the opportunity to run up to him, encase in a sudden and warm hug. You wrap your arms around his neck, and Levi has but a moment’s notice to secure his hands around your back and steady your bodies, lest you both fall to the ground from your uncoordinated momentum.

“You played so well!” you exclaim, pulling back from your hug, but keeping your palms on his shoulders, bouncing excitedly, “I knew you were good, but I didn’t know you were that good! You’ve never played like that before!”

Levi admits to tuning out your praise in favor of drinking in your appearance. The green of his away jersey looks good against your skin, the fabric somewhat loose on your frame. His eyes trail down to the sleeve, a minuscule smirk growing on his lips as he reads his last name in all capital letters underneath his number.

“Come on, Hange and I are taking you guys out for lunch!” your words snap him back to reality, “Anything you want, it’s on me, Captain.”

Levi rolls his tongue against his inner cheek. That’s a promise he’d have to take you up on later. For now, he plays along with your childlike enthusiasm, agreeing to your plans.

He motions for the two of you to get going, but his stride is blocked when you refuse to move from in front of him. Instead, you let your hands crawl from his shoulder to his neck, fingers tickling the hairs at his nape, before you pull him forward into a gentle kiss.

“You really were great, Levi,” you tell him again, pressing another kiss to his lips sweetly.

Levi hums, indulging you one more time, before he hears gasps and not-so-subtle exclamations of “Captain has a girlfriend?!” coming from his annoying teammates. He scoffs when he pulls back to see Jaeger looking at him with his mouth open so wide he could catch flies.

“You’re kind of ruining my reputation,” Levi tells you, but there’s no real bark to his tone.

It’s your turn to scoff, slowly trailing your hands down his arms, and eventually back to your side. You turn and the both of you begin to walk, not before you note, “You ruined your own reputation when you invited me and Hange here.”

“I’ll drink to that.”

“Hey!” you whine, frown deepening as Levi chuckles at you, “You’re not supposed to agree, asshole.” 

Levi doesn’t stop laughing, but gently wraps his arms around your shoulder as the both of you follow behind Hange and Erwin, and back to your car. 

“Don’t think your unusual displays of affection are going to make me forgive you,” you pout, but reach your hand to wrap your fingers around his anyways; Levi doesn’t even bother to hide his smirk, “I don’t care if you scored the winning goal or not, just for that, I’m only buying you one appetizer.”

Levi hums noncommittally. That’s fine, he could think of at least three other things he would rather you do for him instead when you both got home. With and without that jersey on.

[storytellerofuntoldlegends]

somebody loves you for yourself

A/N: I have had this nicomas fic in my head and have been working on it basically since fwsa came out, and it’s finally done!! it’s like 7k of pure fluff and nico meeting the sides, enjoy! (title is from Wake Up, Sunshine by All Time Low)

Summary: On a relaxing date night with Thomas, Nico stumbles upon someone on the kitchen- someone who looked eerily like his boyfriend. Then he ends up meeting five more "Thomases," as well as finding out that there is so much of his boyfriend to love.

Warnings: flirting, kissing, hugging, cuddling, remus being remus, janus being all “we live in a society,” mentions of amazon being a not great company (lmk if anything should be added, otherwise this is pure fluff!)

-

Things had been going spectacularly well with the cute disaster gay Nico had met at the mall. Since that fateful meeting, the two had exchanged numbers, gone on more dates… and well, it had been a few months now and Nico was pretty sure that Thomas was it for him. He really couldn’t picture his future without Thomas somewhere in it. Nico wasn’t really sure what he’d do without Thomas’s infectious enthusiasm, how he could go a day without seeing the way his eyes lit up when he talked about his passions or the way pink would dust his cheeks when Nico used any term of endearment towards him… well now Nico was just waxing poetic now, wasn’t he? Sue him, he was a poet! And Thomas had irrevocably become his muse.

“I was rambling again, wasn’t I?” Thomas asked, startling Nico from his thoughts. The two of them were in Thomas’s apartment, Nico watching Thomas playing Kingdom Hearts. Well… it was more Thomas playing for a bit, then pausing the game to ramble about the lore and storyline of Kingdom Hearts. But Nico was more than content to listen and watch as Thomas gestured emphatically as he spoke. Although Nico admittedly got caught up in how Thomas’s voice was like audible sunshine, how Thomas could start literally glowing from excitement and Nico wouldn’t bat an eye… Thomas once confessed to him that he had thought Nico was radiant the first time he saw him, but Nico was pretty sure it was the other way around. Thomas was the radiant one, like a beam of sunlight that had gotten confused and taken human form.

“No, it’s okay! I like hearing you ramble, it’s cute! Although… I will admit that I might have gotten a little distracted by said cuteness and zoned out,” Nico replied with a sheepish laugh. Thomas flushed and let out a squeak, hands flapping excitedly for a moment before he covered his mouth, as if he were trying to hold back the squeak that he had already let out.

“You know I don’t know how to respond to compliments!” Thomas protested when he dropped his hands down from his mouth.

“Think of it this way, babe- if I keep giving you compliments, you’ll have more practice at responding to them! Besides, you’re unreasonably cute when you get all blushy and stimmy like this,” Nico said with a grin. Thomas squeaked again, this time opting to bury his whole face in his hands.

“This is RUDE I’m being ATTACKED!” Thomas exclaimed, voice muffled behind his hands. Nico chuckled, shaking his head at his boyfriend’s dramatics.

“Okay, okay, I’ll show mercy. I was gonna get some water soon anyway. Need anything while I’m up?” he asked. Thomas looked up from his hands then, face still flushed but looking less like he was going to melt.

“Nah, I’m fine, thanks though,” Thomas replied.

“Be right back,” Nico said, and with a kiss to Thomas’s cheek to fix the not-melting problem, Nico stood up and walked over to the kitchen. He flicked on the light, and he was still rather lost in his thoughts about Thomas that he didn’t notice the man sitting on the counter until he looked up and locked eyes with him. He was… Thomas?! Or at least, someone who looked eerily similar to Thomas. He wore a black hoodie with plaid purple patches and for a moment, Nico thought he had sparkly purple eyeshadow underneath his eyes. But then the man locked eyes with Nico and the eyeshadow was black. Nico let out a surprised yelp, the man sitting on the counter yelped back, and soon enough both of them were screaming.

“Uh… everything okay in here?” Thomas asked, frowning with concern as he walked into the kitchen. He didn’t seem perturbed by the man on the counter, and Nico looked between them incredulously.

“So… were you going to tell me you had a twin, or was I just supposed to get scared half to death by finding him sitting on the counter?!” Nico demanded, unable to keep his voice from rising with mild panic. Thomas’s mouth dropped open, and he looked at the man, then back to Nico.

“You can see him?!” Thomas gasped. Nico’s expression twisted with confusion.

“Uh… kinda hard to miss an emo version of you sitting on the counter. Thomas, who is this and why are you so shocked that I can see him?” Nico asked, glancing to the man again, who looked like he wanted nothing more than to cease to exist at that present moment. But surprisingly, the man spoke up.

“He’s surprised because I’m part of him,” he said, and he even sounded like Thomas, but his voice was rougher and deeper.

“What do you mean, ‘part of him?’” Nico asked slowly.

“This is Virgil, he’s my anxiety. And up until now… I thought I was the only one who could see him,” Thomas explained. And frankly, this clarification just left Nico even more confused.

“So… your anxiety is somehow… personified? And is a real, actual person?” Nico asked.

“He’s not… ‘real,’ in that sort of sense, I thought he was more like… a figment of my imagination, or a projection of how I was feeling, anxiety-wise? Although he and the others are able to interact with the real world sometimes…” Thomas trailed off thoughtfully.

“Wait wait wait. Back up. Others?!” Nico exclaimed. Thomas instantly looked a little sheepish, rubbing the back of his neck.

“I- um, well…”

“We’re his ‘sides.’ Parts of his personality, basically. There’s Logan, Patton, Roman… and a few more,” Virgil explained, fidgeting with his hoodie sleeves and eyes glued to the floor.

“Oh. Okay then… so are all of you just in his head the rest of the time? How come I haven’t seen any of you before?” Nico asked.

“We usually are in his head, yeah. But I don’t know why you haven’t seen any of us until now. Heck, me and Roman were with Thomas when he met you!” Virgil exclaimed, biting his thumb nervously after his rather panicked outburst.

“Wait, you were?” Nico asked, looking to Thomas for confirmation. Thomas smiled sheepishly, dropping his hand from the back of his neck.

“Yeah. In fact, Virgil was the one who pushed me to talk to you. And uh- I mean the ‘pushed’ part literally,” Thomas explained.

“Wait really? I just thought you were clumsy- not that being clumsy is a bad thing! Kinda endearing, actually,” Nico said, expecting the inevitable blush to travel over Thomas’s face- but what he wasn’t expecting was a squeak from Virgil and his eyeshadow turning sparkly and purple.

“I mean, to be fair I am a little clumsy sometimes,” Thomas said with a nervous laugh. Nico glanced between Virgil and Thomas, a bit of a playful smirk quirking on his lips.

“Well, whether your clumsiness is just you or your sides- I think you’re all around endearing,” Nico said, voice nearly a purr. Thomas let out a delighted little sound and flapped his hands with excitement, and Virgil outright giggled. If Nico hadn’t thought Thomas was everything to him before, he definitely thought so now with meeting one of his sides.

“Your eyeshadow turns purple and sparkly when Thomas is excited, that is adorable,” Nico cooed. Virgil let out a sound that was half giggle and half yelp, hiding his flushed face in his hands. After a few deep breaths to calm himself down, he peeked up at Nico, looking timid and insecure.

“You really think so?” Virgil asked quietly, tensing up as if he were afraid of the answer.

“I do think so. It makes sense after all… Thomas is adorable, therefore his sides are adorable too,” Nico replied with a shrug. Virgil let out an elated giggle, hands flapping excitedly- and in that moment, Nico knew that he was more than okay with Thomas having sides. It just meant there was more of him to love and appreciate.

-

Since meeting Virgil, Nico was determined to meet the rest of the sides. Thomas had explained that he could summon them whenever he wanted, but Nico insisted that they could just come to him on their own. He had felt a little bad about his first meeting with Virgil being so panic-inducing for all of them, and didn’t really want a repeat of that situation. But luckily, Nico didn’t have to wait that long to meet another one of Thomas’s sides.

Nico had been sitting at the table, idly chatting with Thomas while he was in the kitchen making dinner for the two of them. Nico had offered to help, but being the sweetheart he was, Thomas insisted that he was more than happy to handle dinner. As they were talking, one of Thomas’s sides rose up into existence. This side wore glasses, a black polo, and a tie… Nico made a mental note to tell Thomas that he looked very good dressed a bit more formally.

“Thomas, please be sure to preheat the oven for the garlic bread this time,” the formally dressed side said. Then he looked over and seemed to notice Nico, and though his expression seemed carefully maintained and neutral, Nico could see his eyes lighting up with excitement.

“Hi there!” Nico said, giving a small wave. A smile crept over the side’s face for half a second, but his expression quickly turned neutral again, and he adjusted his tie nervously.

“Hello. I am Logan, Thomas’s-”

“Wait! Don’t tell me which side you are, I wanna guess! It’s kind of like a puzzle… although I guess that’s kind of weird to say about part of your boyfriend’s personality…” Nico trailed off sheepishly. Logan’s face lit up, and this time it was purely unrestrained. If Nico could get heart eyes like a cartoon character, he certainly would have in this situation. Something about seeing this serious side of Thomas so excited… it made Nico’s heart flutter.

“Do you like puzzles?” Logan asked, sounding like he was trying not to seem too hopeful.

“I love puzzles!” Nico exclaimed. A grin took over Logan’s face, and with a wave of his hand, a puzzle appeared on the kitchen table. It was a Nightmare Before Christmas one of Jack Skellington’s face being made up of various scenes and characters from the movie.

“Oh- wait, I’m not sure if you’re going to be able to-” Logan’s sentence cut off abruptly when Nico reached out and took the lid off the top of the box.

“What were you saying?” Nico asked, setting the lid down and looking up to Logan. Nico could only describe his expression as calculating, but in a warm and endearing way.

“Fascinating,” Logan murmured, gazing at Nico. He felt his face heat up slightly at the attention, but was mostly feeling a little lost.

“Logan? What’s going on, buddy?” Thomas asked, observing the two of them from the other side of the kitchen counter. Logan blinked, shaking his head and looking a little sheepish.

“Apologies. I was rather fascinated that Nico was able to touch the puzzle box. I had momentarily forgotten that I am technically imaginary, and therefore anything I would summon would be imaginary as well. However, Nico seems to be able to interact with the puzzle,” Logan explained, and frankly Nico felt like he could listen to Logan talk for ages. He was so precise and professional with the way he spoke, but there was still an undercurrent of excitement and fascination.

“Maybe you guys are becoming more real, somehow?” Nico suggested.

“Perhaps, but you seem to be the only one who can see us. There have been some close calls with Joan and some of Thomas’s other close friends, but you have been the only one who has outright interacted with us,” Logan explained. Nico hummed thoughtfully as he began sorting out the puzzle pieces. Logan sat down with him and helped sort the pieces as well, flushing slightly as their hands brushed whenever they reached for the same pieces.

“Maybe it has to do with how close to Thomas someone is?” Nico asked. A contemplative expression came over Logan’s face.

“I am not responsible for Thomas’s emotions, so I would have no way of knowing. But that is a plausible theory,” Logan replied. Nico nodded, and went back to the puzzle for a few moments, sneaking a few glances at Logan every now and then.

“Well, you confirmed that you aren’t Thomas’s emotional side, and I know you aren’t his anxiety because I already met Virgil. And you seem to like Nightmare Before Christmas, but I’m not sure if that really contributes to which side you are,” Nico said, and was surprised to see Logan flush with mild embarrassment.

“I- while your skills of deduction are admirable, my reasonings for summoning a Nightmare Before Christmas puzzle was not because I enjoy the movie, but because you seem to. If the sticker on your laptop is any evidence to go by,” Logan admitted a tad sheepishly. This time it was Nico’s turn to blush, and he placed his hand over Logan’s with a grin.

“Logan, that’s so sweet! So tell me, what do you like?” Nico asked, squeezing Logan’s hand before removing it to continue the puzzle. Logan stared at his hand for a moment or two, then blinked and shook his head.

“I- erm, I do have an- an appreciation for mysteries and detective stories,” Logan replied, stumbling over his words slightly. Nico glanced up from the puzzle to see that Logan looked a little flustered, and a small smile came to his face at the sight.

“So let’s see… not emotional, seems very factual and is on the more serious side, likes puzzles, mysteries, and detectives… my guess is that you’re Thomas’s intellectual side,” Nico said. Logan’s face broke out into a grin and his expression lit up with pride, sending butterflies fluttering through Nico’s stomach.

“Correct! Although technically speaking, my official ‘title’ of sorts is that I am Thomas’s Logic,” Logan said, voice surprisingly warm and fond.

“Well then, Mr. Logic, shall we finish this puzzle?” Nico asked with a grin. A small smile slipped onto Logan’s face.

“I think we shall, Mr. Flores.”

-

Nico and Thomas had been having what they liked to call “joint creativity days.” The two of them would hang out in Thomas’s apartment while Thomas would work on a script for a video, while Nico would work on his songs or poetry. And it was on one of these joint creativity days that Nico met another one of Thomas’s sides.

“By the prophecies of Apollo, are you writing a sonnet?!” a hushed, yet excited voice piped up beside Nico. He looked over to see one of Thomas’s sides nestled rather close to him on the couch, eyes lit up with awe as he looked at Nico’s screen. The side in question was dressed like a stereotypical prince: white tunic with gold detailing, a bright red sash- but oddly enough, no crown.

“Well… I’m trying to. My songs aren’t really going anywhere, so I decided I’d try to do some poetry. But I’m getting tripped up on the syllables,” Nico said with a sigh.

“Why restrict your wondrous writing to the syllables of a sonnet? Although I do appreciate the Bard’s work,” the princely side asked.

“I thought giving myself some guidelines would help, otherwise I’ll feel like I have too many options and I don’t end up writing anything at all,” Nico said with a sigh.

“It doesn’t seem like you’re writing much with those guidelines- but this certainly is a good start!” the side said, eyes scanning over the words again. A thoughtful expression came over the side’s face, and Nico could practically see the creative gears turning in his mind. Wait… creative? Could he be- well, Nico should probably ask the side’s name before making any guesses.

“Oh gosh, what am I doing? I didn’t even ask for your name or anything!” Nico said with a sheepish laugh. The side blinked, startling slightly as he was torn from the partially written sonnet. His face broke out into a charming grin as he sprung to his feet, got down on one knee in front of the couch and took Nico’s hand in his. Nico thought he was flustered at the side’s actions- but then he spoke and Nico was fairly sure his face was burning.

“Prince Roman at your service, my fair poet,” he murmured with a kiss to the back of Nico’s hand. Nico let out a sound he absolutely refused to call a squeak.

“Where is this suave-ness when I’m trying to flirt with Nico?!” Thomas demanded indignantly. Roman stood up with a huff.

“Virgil can be very convincing when it comes to not flirting versus flirting!” Roman squawked indignantly.

“Good point,” Thomas replied with a sigh.

“Well, whenever you are comfortable enough to do it, the suave-ness is much appreciated by me,” Nico said, only sounding slightly strangled. Roman’s face lit up, and he clapped his hands together excitedly as he bounced on the balls of his feet (the lack of crown now made sense to Nico, with how much the prince seemed to move).

“Really?!” Roman squealed.

“Of course, Prince Roman- or should I say, Thomas’s creativity and passion?” Nico guessed with a grin. Nico thought Roman looked rather joyous before, but Roman’s expression turned positively ecstatic. Nico half-expected Roman to start glowing with how enthused he looked. He all but bounded forward to sit next to Nico again and hug him tightly- and then he pressed a kiss to Nico’s cheek. Nico’s face heated up once more… and okay, fine, he squeaked. Roman drew back from him quickly, looking completely mortified.

“I have never thought about a single decision I have ever made,” Roman said, voice coming out quiet and mildly strained. Nico gave Roman a comforting smile, and took the prince’s hand and squeezed it gently. Roman’s tensed form instantly relaxed, but he still looked a little distraught.

“I don’t mind a little spontaneity, your highness,” Nico murmured, thumb rubbing soothing circles over the back of Roman’s hand. A sound between a gasp and an exclamation left Roman’s lips and a delightful pink flush grew over his cheeks.

“I- Nico, you- I…” Roman rambled, seeming at a loss for words. Nico smiled warmly and leaned over to kiss Roman’s temple… and well, it looked like Roman wasn’t going to be formulating words any time soon.

“Nico! Now I’m really not going to get any work on this script done!” Thomas said with a laugh, setting his laptop aside.

“I can’t help that my boyfriend and his sides are so handsome and lovely! It makes complimenting you so easy,” Nico said, flashing Thomas a grin. Thomas squeaked, blushing just as brightly as Roman.

“This is DISTINCTLY not fair!” Roman pouted, which was frankly adorable in Nico’s humble opinion.

“You started it, dear Prince,” Nico hummed with a shrug, turning back to his sonnet. Nothing like a little mutual flirting and flustering to get the writing motivation flowing.

-

Halloween was approaching, which meant that pumpkin patches started opening up. So Nico came up with the date idea of going to a pumpkin patch and carving pumpkins afterwards. And was the main purpose of this date to wear cute fall clothes and take pictures with Thomas? Maybe. But Nico also really loved Halloween and carving pumpkins, so really it was a win-win.

Nico took pumpkin carving very seriously, so he was meticulous when it came to choosing a pumpkin. Thomas had already chosen his, and was watching on fondly while Nico pondered over the pumpkins. Nico had narrowed down his choices to two pumpkins when a voice piped up beside him.

“Having trouble picking there, pumpkin?” the voice asked, and Nico glanced over to see one of Thomas’s sides crouched beside him. Nico couldn’t think of any other way to describe this side other than a dad with an affinity for cats. He wore glasses, a blue polo, khakis, and a cat hoodie tied around his shoulders. Nico blinked at the side with mild confusion.

“Was that… a pun?” Nico asked. The side let out a sheepish laugh, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Yeahhh… not my best one. Oh hey! Can I just say that you look gord-eous today?” he said with a grin. Against his will, Nico’s face flushed and a giggle escaped his lips.

“You have a dad side?” Nico said, standing and turning towards Thomas with a laugh of disbelief. Thomas let out a sheepish laugh.

“Well, he’s technically more than that… but pretty much yeah,” Thomas replied.

“I didn’t think you or your sides could get any more adorable,” Nico said with a grin. Thomas flushed slightly, and a squeal came from the side beside Nico.

“Oh kiddo! You’re so sweet!” he cooed. Nico turned to the dad side with a slightly mischievous grin.

“Am I sweet as… pumpkin pie?” he asked. Thomas’s side giggled, while Thomas groaned at the pun.

“I’d say you’re even sweeter! My name’s Patton, by the way,” he said, holding out a hand to Nico. He looked at the offered hand, then to Patton’s face.

“Sorry Patton, but I don’t think a handshake is gonna do. Could I have a hug instead?” Nico asked. Patton’s face lit up like a child’s did on Christmas, and he pulled Nico into his arms with an elated sound. Thomas was a good hugger, Nico always felt safe and loved in his arms- but hugging Patton was that feeling times a thousand. Patton just radiated care and comfort, and Nico hadn’t really thought he needed a hug earlier, but part of him felt absolutely relieved to be hugged. One of Patton’s hands came up to gently card through Nico’s hair, and he all but purred at the touch.

“I’m not getting Patton back anytime soon, am I?” Thomas joked.

“No,” Nico replied with a slight pout, hugging Patton tighter.

“No complaints here!” Patton said, and Nico could hear his smile in his voice.

“I mean, to everyone else it probably looks like you’re hugging the air,” Thomas pointed out with a chuckle. Nico sighed, and regretfully drew away from Patton.

“That’s okay, I can always hug you later when there aren’t people around!” Patton chirped with a sunny grin. Okay, so Patton was definitely the side responsible for Thomas being like a ray of sunshine that came to life. But Nico had no clue as to what part of Thomas that made Patton. His kindness, maybe? But Nico had a feeling that Patton was more than that, that there was something more than the puns and cheerful attitude.

“I’ve gotta say Patton, you’ve got me a little stumped. Puns, sunny disposition, kindness… but I feel like there’s something more to you than that, something more specific that I can’t quite put my finger on,” Nico hummed thoughtfully.

“Do you want a hint?” Patton offered. Nico pondered this for a moment or two, then nodded.

“Sure, just don’t give it to me too easily,” he replied. Patton grinned, clapping his hands together excitedly.

“Yay! Well Nico, I just wanted to say that I am morally obligated to tell you that I heartily look forward to our next hug!” Patton exclaimed. Nico blinked in mild confusion, getting the feeling that Patton had used two puns in his hint. He pondered Patton’s sentence for a moment or two, regarding the side with a contemplative look.

“Are you… his morals? Or his heart?” Nico asked, more thinking out loud rather than settling on an answer.

“Both! Well, ‘officially’ I’m Thomas’s morality, his sense of right and wrong- but I’m his heart too!” Patton chirped.

“I knew there was something more to you than really good hugs and dad jokes,” Nico replied with a grin. Patton giggled, face flushing ever so slightly as he fiddled with the sleeves of his cat hoodie.

“Well, to be fair… I am mostly that sort of stuff,” he said, sounding a little sheepish. Nico regarded Patton with a concerned expression. Something about Patton’s demeanor… it struck Nico that perhaps the side didn’t think of himself all that highly. Maybe it was a bit of a stretch to assume, considering he had just met him, but there was insecurity in every fiber of his stance.

“Maybe, but it takes a lot of wisdom to deal with moral issues. You can be smart and silly, it’s not a dichotomy,” Nico said with a soft smile. Patton’s eyes grew wide behind his glasses, and Nico was vaguely startled to see that it looked like he was going to cry.

“Oh- I- well… well Logan’s the smart one, not me,” Patton protested, though his voice was soft and hopeful.

“Sure, Logan is logic and facts, and ‘traditional’ intelligence… but there’s a lot of different types of intelligence. You seem to lean towards emotional intelligence, which does make you smart and caring- plus you must be pretty witty to come up with puns,” Nico said, still smiling softly.

“Oh,” Patton said softly, eyes still wide and the beginnings of a smile on his face. Patton stood still for half a moment, then rushed forward to hug Nico. This hug felt completely different than the one Nico had received earlier. This time, Patton felt so small in his arms, instead of being all-encompassing comfort. Patton was the one who needed the comfort here, to know that just because he was sweet and silly, it didn’t mean he wasn’t important. Nico hugged him back tightly, reaching a hand up to run through his hair, mirroring what Patton had done with him earlier. Nico looked to Thomas over Patton’s shoulder- and was shocked to see an expression that had been eerily similar to Patton’s- disbelieving yet hopeful. Then it hit Nico- the sides’ insecurities were Thomas’s too, at least on some level. He squeezed Patton tighter and smiled at Thomas comfortingly. There was so much of Thomas to love- and Nico was determined to show Thomas that he loved every part of him.

-

Thomas and Nico were curled up on the couch, Thomas’s arm around him with his head resting on top of Nico’s. They were having a rather relaxed evening by watching The Lion King, arguably one of Nico’s favorite Disney movies (other than Nightmare Before Christmas, of course). What made this particular viewing of The Lion King so enjoyable was Thomas softly singing along to the songs and his laughter at various parts of the movie. They had gotten to “Can You Feel the Love Tonight” in the movie when Nico heard some snickering from off to the side. Nico looked over to see a mustached side with a white streak through his hair hiding behind the couch. Out of all the sides Nico had met so far, he looked the most different from Thomas. Yet something about him reminded Nico of Roman- they definitely seemed to have a similar style, as something about the side seemed regal with the elaborate black tunic and electric green sash.

“What are you giggling about?” Nico asked. The side merely cackled, wiggling excitedly behind the couch.

“You’ll seeeeeee,” he crooned. Thomas looked over to the side with an apprehensive look and sighed.

“Remus-” Thomas started, but the side (Remus?) quickly shushed him. Thomas huffed out a sigh and rolled his eyes, snuggling back into Nico. They continued watching the scene for a little while longer until Remus broke down into giggles, causing Thomas to sigh again.

“What’s so funny?” Nico asked, glancing between the television and Remus. They had gotten to the part of the song where Simba and Nala had rolled down the hill together, and Nico couldn’t quite figure out what was so amusing about that.

“Oh come on, Nala was totally asking Simba to hakuna her tatas with those bedroom eyes she was giving him,” Remus cackled. Thomas’s expression was twisted with a mixture of disgust and disappointment, while Nico couldn’t help but burst into laughter. Both Thomas and Remus looked surprised at his reaction, but Nico was too busy laughing to really wonder why.

“Hakuna her- oh my goodness how did I never think of that-” Nico said between laughs.

“And you said it would be a bad idea if I talked to Nico!” Remus scoffed with a grin.

“Cause I thought you would traumatize him, not- not whatever is happening here!” Thomas protested.

“What is happening here is that I am hilarious,” Remus shot back, his grin turning more smug than chaotic. Nico finally managed to stop laughing and catch his breath, looking to Remus with an inquisitive look.

“So you’re- what, pure chaos and humor? You also remind me of Roman in a weird way… I can’t quite puzzle you out,” Nico pondered. Remus opened his mouth to say something else, but was cut off by an indignant voice from the end of the couch.

“I resent that, I am NOTHING like him!” Roman exclaimed, crossing his arms and pouting slightly.

“Hey! I’m talking to Nico now, you got to meet him a few days ago!” Remus shouted back. Roman and Remus quickly devolved into childish bickering, sounding more like a pair of kids than two sides of a grown man.

“This is the first time I’ve seen your sides interact with each other, do they always bicker like this?” Nico whispered to Thomas, gaze darting between Roman and Remus as they continued to argue.

“More or less, but these two are a… special case,” Thomas muttered.

“I am quite special and spectacular, thank you,” Roman said, abandoning his argument with Remus to turn to Thomas and Nico.

“Pretty sure ‘special’ was not a compliment there, Ro-Bro,” Remus huffed. Roman let out a dramatic groan, looking to Remus his nose wrinkled in distaste.

“Why did you call me ‘Ro-Bro’, I know you have the capability to be cleverer than that,” Roman huffed.

“Well it’s true! Your name is Ro, and you’re my bro! And Thomas told me I couldn’t traumatize Nico,” Remus pouted.

“Wait, ‘bro?’ Like you guys are actually brothers?” Nico blurted, interrupting the argument before it could really begin.

“Unfortunately,” Roman huffed.

“Well I think I am an absolute delight to have as a brother,” Remus shot back, sticking out his tongue.

“More like an absolute fright!” Roman fired back.

“Awww, you called me a fright! That’s gotta be the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me!” Remus chirped, seeming genuinely pleased. Roman let out a long sigh.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Please don’t scare off Thomas’s boyfriend?” Roman huffed. To Nico’s surprise, Remus flushed slightly.

“I won’t,” he muttered. Seeming satisfied, Roman sunk out, leaving Thomas and Nico with Remus. Nico turned to look at Remus who seemed… uncharacteristically sheepish. Nico hadn’t really known Remus for all that long, but something told him that he wasn’t the type of side to be particularly bashful.

“So… Remus. Roman’s your brother? Does that mean you guys have similar functions?” Nico asked with a contemplative expression. Remus squirmed semi-uncomfortably for a moment or two before huffing out a sigh.

“I guess so. Technically,” he said with a slight pout. Nico regarded him with a concerned eye. Remus seemed just as unwilling to admit that he had any similarities to Roman as Roman was unwilling to admit that he had any similarities to Remus.

“So you’re creativity too? But Thomas and Roman both said something about scaring or traumatizing me… so you’re Thomas’s darker creative thoughts?” Nico asked.

“Yup. But I’m his intrusive thoughts too. Y’know, those random little thoughts you get about how easy it would be to stab somebody while they’re helping you do the dishes and you happen to be drying a knife,” Remus replied, his strange melancholy demeanor shifting to something more malicious and chaotic as he spoke. Nico was suddenly reminded of the other day when he was helping Thomas do the dishes after dinner, and how Thomas had dropped a knife like it had burned him while he was drying it. Nico had fussed over him and asked if he was okay, and Thomas just blamed it on clumsiness. But now Nico could see that there was a bit more to Thomas lurking beneath the surface. Nico knew that Thomas would never hurt him- if the immense guilt and shame currently written over his face was anything to go by- but it did hurt Nico’s heart a bit to know that Thomas struggled with such thoughts and felt ashamed to talk about it.

“Well… just because you think such things doesn’t mean you’d ever do them, and thinking those sorts of things doesn’t make you an irredeemably bad person either. Plus it’s not a bad thing to have a darker imagination! Stories can’t be all sunshine and rainbows, sometimes you’ve gotta have a little darkness to even things out,” Nico explained in a soothing tone, relieved when both Thomas and Remus perked up.

“Really?” Remus asked in a disbelieving tone.

“Really! Trust me, I’m a poet. And poets love writing about dark stuff, just look at Edgar Allan Poe! He’s one of my inspirations, did you know that?” Nico asked, grinning when Remus’s face lit up.

“Me too! The Tell-Tale Heart is one of my favorites of his!” Remus exclaimed, beginning to chatter away about hearts beneath floorboards and birds that foretold death. Thomas muttered something about Nico providing Remus more nightmare fuel to torment him with, to which Nico happily placated him with a peck on the cheek and the promise to defend him from any nightmares.

-

On more than one occasion, some of Nico’s friends had enthusiastically recommended the show Good Omens to him. As it turned out, Thomas’s friends were also recommending the show to him. So they both figured it could be something they could experience together. Watching Good Omens had become a bit of a weekend tradition, and they were now halfway through the show. Nico was getting popcorn ready in the kitchen, while Thomas fussed over the television setup. For whatever reason, Thomas seemed to be struggling with pulling it up… no, that wasn’t quite it. Thomas seemed strangely hesitant about pulling up Amazon Prime onto his television.

“Something up, babe?” Nico asked as he carried the popcorn into the living room.

“No! No, I’m fine,” Thomas replied, a little too quickly as he queued up the show and sat down on the couch. For a brief moment, Nico could have sworn he heard a chilling laugh and a flash of yellow out of the corner of his eye, but when he turned to follow it, there was nothing there. Shaking his head, Nico sat down beside Thomas and instantly cuddled into his side, popcorn still in hand.

“Sure doesn’t sound like you’re fine,” Nico said, raising an eyebrow and tilting his head up to meet Thomas’s eyes. He fidgeted for a moment or two before replying.

“Just saw an article the other day about Amazon, that’s all,” Thomas said with a sigh.

“Yeah, Jeff Bezos is a crummy guy, and unfortunately we live in a capitalist world where there is no such thing as ethical consumption,” Nico said, tone grim and melancholy.

“He’s right, Thomas. After all- what’s the phrase? Ah yes… ‘we live in a society,’” a voice crooned. Nico jumped, nearly spilling the popcorn in the process, and looked over to see one of Thomas’s sides seated on the far end of the couch. The side’s appearance absolutely radiated “stereotypical villain” with the bowler hat, capelet, and yellow gloves- but Nico couldn’t help but be reminded of Crowley due to the scales on half his face and the piercing yellow snake eye. And he wasn’t sure why, but something in the way the side regarded Nico made him flush ever so slightly.

“Janus…” Thomas trailed off, pinching the bridge of his nose as if he felt a headache coming on.

“Now Thomas, we could be avoiding this guilt if we had just pirated the show like I insisted. But instead, we’re kissing up to-” the side- Janus- started, but was cut off by Thomas.

“There are… good points to what each of you are saying. But like I said before, there is no ethical consumption under capitalism. If we spent our time trying to debate the moral standards of each and every piece of media we consume- well, we wouldn’t really have anything to consume. And that doesn’t mean we should outright ignore things like a company treating their workers terribly, but we shouldn’t beat ourselves up over something that isn’t in the realm of our immediate control either. Instead, what we can do is sign petitions and look into how else we can support underpaid and overworked workers. Besides, Good Omens is arguably queer, Neil Gaiman himself has made that pretty clear. We don’t get much of that,” Nico pointed out. Thomas and Janus seemed to ponder this for a moment or two, until Janus’s face broke into a sly grin that definitely had Nico blushing.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. But pirating makes Virgil freak out cause what if I end up getting a virus when I download the show from a sketchy website and then all my data gets stolen, and then-” Thomas rambled, before Janus butted in.

“And Patton prattles on about how pirating is stealing, and stealing is wrong- but tell me, stealing from a corrupt company makes a right, don’t you think?” Janus said, gaze flicking to Nico for confirmation.

“I think I underestimated you, Mr. Flores,” Janus purred, and Nico’s face was absolutely burning at this point.

“And I thought Roman was handsome and charming,” Nico said in a strangled whisper, not really meaning to say what he was thinking out loud, but was glad he did when the human side of Janus’s face turned a bright red.

“I- erm. That’s- whatever,” Janus scoffed, examining his gloves in an excuse to not meet Nico’s gaze.

“Y’know, that’s impressive. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him speechless,” Thomas commented dryly. Janus merely hissed at Thomas in reply, and Nico couldn’t help but giggle.

“Well what I think is impressive is that you have a snakey crime side,” Nico said between laughs.

“Flatterer,” Janus accused, although he was absolutely preening at Nico’s comment.

“Maybe I just think my boyfriend and his sides deserve to be flattered,” Nico replied with a shrug. Thomas let out a flustered giggle, and Janus’s human side of his face was quickly turning red again.

“Well, obviously he does. I knew that,” Janus said, trying (and failing) to seem aloof.

“The flattering also includes you here, Janus,” Nico said with a chuckle.

“Really? Oh, I’m not sure about that,” he replied, smiling coyly. Nico grinned wickedly, and Thomas glanced between Nico and Janus in a mix of mild confusion and intrigue.

“Then I’m sure you’d absolutely hate to hear that I find you incredibly stunning,” Nico purred.

“Careful there, angel- lest you fall prey to the snake in the garden,” Janus replied with a grin, flashing fangs that Nico was pretty sure weren’t there before. His brain was a little too busy re-playing the way Janus had purred “angel” on loop to actually remember.

“Speaking of snakes in gardens and angels- are we ever going to get around to watching Good Omens today or not?” Thomas asked with a chuckle.

“In a minute! I haven’t figured out which one of your sides Janus is yet,” Nico protested, shaking off his flusteredness to regard Janus with a curious eye.

“Oh please, as if you could ever unravel the marvelous mystery that is-”

“Let’s see, sneaky, snarky, dramatic, cunning, wants to encourage Thomas to commit minor crimes… anything else I’m missing?” Nico asked, cutting Janus off.

“... you forgot s-s-snakey,” Janus pouted. Nico broke into giggles at the sudden shift in Janus’s demeanor.

“Right, you’re right, sorry. So… you’re his… trickery and cunning side?” Nico tried. Janus pondered his answer for a moment or two, before he broke into a pleased grin.

“Well, I do encompass those things as well, I suppose. So I’ll give it to you- but formally, I am Thomas’s Deceit,” he said, tipping his hat to Nico.

“Pleasure to meet you, Deceit. Well, with that settled, we can watch Good Omens now!” Nico said, patting the spot on the couch next to him. Janus looked surprised for a moment or two before he shook it off and his expression was back to smug indifference.

“Well, I suppose I can be tempted to stay,” Janus said, sinking out for a moment before reappearing next to Nico. After setting the popcorn on the coffee table first, Nico grabbed one of Janus’s hands to pull him into the cuddling he and Thomas were currently engaged in.

“Hey, you’re just letting him stay cause you want double the cuddles!” Thomas teased.

“What makes you say that?” Nico asked as he wrapped an arm around Janus- while more arms than were normal for a human being wrapped themselves around Nico.

“Don’t lie to a liar, darling,” Janus crooned as he snuggled himself into Nico’s chest. Thomas rolled his eyes fondly, and with his lingering guilt about Amazon aside, the three of them settled in to watch Good Omens.

-

Thomas and Nico were on a walk in a park nearby Thomas’s place, holding hands and swinging them idly between them every once and a while. Every now and then Nico would catch Thomas giving him an incredibly sappy look- but really, Nico couldn’t blame him. After all, he was sure his own expression was as equally lovestruck.

“So, have I met all of your sides yet?” Nico asked, the question meant to be casual, but he was surprised when Thomas’s face twisted with concern and mild guilt.

“Well… you’ve met all the ones I’ve met. There’s still other parts of me that I have yet to confront,” Thomas said with a sigh.

“That’s okay! Learning about yourself is an ongoing process! And to put you at ease, there isn’t a part of you that I’ve met that I don’t love,” Nico said with an unabashedly adoring smile. This admission halted Thomas in his tracks, and he looked to Nico with wide eyes.

“Really?” he asked softly.

“Really,” Nico murmured, pulling Thomas into a kiss. Thomas made an elated sound against his mouth, holding Nico close as they kissed. When the kiss broke, he didn’t go very far, leaning his forehead against Nico’s.

“I love you too, you know,” Thomas said sheepishly.

“I know,” Nico replied with a grin, then gave Thomas another quick kiss before pulling away. He grabbed Thomas’s hand again, and the two of them continued their walk, hopelessly in love with every single part of the other.

-

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[latent-thoughts]

An Offering, A Connection...

Summary: When a little boy gets lost in the woods in England, what hope does he have to return to his home safe and sound? Who will come to his rescue? Well, a very chaotic entity that loves kids.

Author's Note: I usually don't write RPF, but I felt compelled to write this one. This concept had been rattling in my head for a while, but I never felt a push to actually write it. Until now, until today, when I had been down in the dumps, thinking I had lost my writing mojo for good. I guess Loki approved?

Category: General

Warnings: None

...............

Golden, rowdy curls... unsure, confused steps.

The child was… lost, for certain. He had looked around and tried to act brave at first. But soon, it all devolved into panic and fear.

He was now crying. No, he was a sobbing mess. Crying out for his mother, looking around with frantic, wet eyes.

He was deep in the woods and there was no help in sight.

Were his parents not around? Why wasn't anyone looking for him?

The hidden, shadowy figure moved closer to the boy as his sobs grew louder, drawn by his distress. Not a sound was heard, but a rustling of wind through the trees.

Slowly, the inky shadow took on a more solid form, though the shape looked like a mirage. Ever changing, never settling.

The boy hadn't noticed the presence yet, for he was far too perturbed with his immediate surroundings.

Finally, on a whim, the shifting mirage settled on a form, just as his footsteps squished the fallen, half rotten leaves on the wet ground.

It had rained not long ago, and it might as well start pouring again.

Not that it mattered. To him, it didn't…

But the child would be soaked, and it wouldn't bode well for him. Children were fragile little treasures, after all.

The boy turned around just as he heard the wet footsteps approaching, his eyes wide and terrified.

They were a lovely shade of blue, big and expressive.

He smiled, stopping before the boy, letting him observe him.

"W-Who are you?" he asked, his voice cracking with nerves, his little body shaking in response to both fear and the evening chill of the woods.

"That's irrelevant, dear heart. Are you lost?" he asked the trembling boy, extending his hand towards him as an offer.

The boy didn't move, eyeing his hand with apprehension.

He didn't trust him. That was wise. Trusting strangers in the woods was bad form.

But in this instance, there was little room for choice.

Ah, but he knew he had to be patient. Children were delicate beings. Innocent from all wiles, they held a special place in his heart.

Bending down on one knee, he asked the same question again.

"Are you lost, my child?"

It took him a beat, but the boy finally gave him a little nod, his lips trembling as the tears once again escaped his eyes.

"I want to go home," he mumbled, barely audible.

"I see." The proffered hand still extended towards the boy. "Come then, we shall find a way back."

Patience unlike which he usually possessed took over then, as he let the boy take his hand in a slow, measured approach.

"My mum says that I shouldn't trust strangers," the boy stated, even as he grasped his hand with his little fingers.

"That's all true and wise, but your mum should've been here to protect you."

He did feel a certain ire towards irresponsible parents.

"It's not her fault. I ran away and got lost," the boy said contritely, lowering his head. "I didn't listen to her. I just wanted to run, to feel the wind on my face. I didn't see where I was going."

"Ah, I see. So you were being rebellious." He smirked as he rose to his full height. "How very chaotic of you."

The boy grew less scared and weepy and more loquacious as they began to walk, the sun setting behind them, darkening the woods.

"Is that bad? Being chaotic?"

"Not at all. Chaos is but an aspect of life. Without it, nothing would move, nothing would stir. Nothing would grow."

"So… why did I get lost then? Why do bad things happen with chaos?"

"You think it's a bad thing, but perhaps it isn't. For what it's worth, I found you."

"Yes. But what were you doing in the woods? Were you lost as well? Or were you looking for something?"

A chuckle escaped between them. The boy was a curious creature. Good for him.

"No. I wasn't lost, neither was I looking for something. I simply love wandering in the woods. I'm at home with nature."

"Where do you live?"

"Far from here, but close enough to visit these woods every once in a while"

"You sound like a riddle, and you talk in a weird way."

Another chuckle. "Do I?"

"Yup. But I like it."

Slowly, they walked in a straight line and reached the edge of the woods, stepping onto the familiar grey asphalt that served as the pathway for all the manner of modern human conveyance.

"I recognize this road!" the child claimed with newfound enthusiasm, pulling at his hand as he tried to cross over to the other side.

He let him pull him, smiling down at him as he chirped about his house, which was only a block away.

Of course, it was.

Hand in hand, they reached the boy's home in no time at all.

"Come inside," the boy urged, still hanging onto his hand as they approached the house's main door. "Please?"

He let out a sigh. "I must not, dear. I have places I need to be"

The boy pouted. "But you said you just wander around."

"Not without a purpose. I do have things to do."

The boy looked down, then sideways at the door to his house, letting out a little sigh of disappointment.

"Alright. But I want to thank you."

"I accept your thanks."

Shaking his head, the boy looked up at him again, one hand still hanging onto him while the other fished something out from his pants pocket.

"Here, please have it. I wanted to give you something more, something bigger, but that's all I have right now." He raised his hand up, offering him a confection.

He recognized it--chocolate, one of his favoured sweet treats.

"Please have it."

Well, he wasn't the one to reject an offering. Especially so innocently given. But… an offering given so freely had to have its consequences.

Silently, the confection changed hands.

"I shall take my leave now." He bent down on his knee again, stroking the golden haired head of the boy, uttering a blessing audible to no one but him, spoken in a tongue as old as time itself. "Be good, and don't spread too much chaos and mischief. At least, not until you grow up a bit. You'll get plenty of opportunities when you do."

The boy nodded, though his eyes grew sad. "Before you go, can I at least know your name, sir?"

Lightning sparked up in the sky behind him as he rose, illuminating his pitch dark tresses as he gazed down at the boy, a kind smile gracing his sharp features.

"I have many names, but you may call me Loki."

Thunder rumbled then, loud and cracking as the rain came down in a heavy downpour. "Till we meet again, Tom."

Patting his head again, he turned around and walked away, disappearing into the sheet-like rain.

"Wait… how did you know my name?" the little boy called out in confusion, only to receive silence in response.

Silence and the clamouring rain…

-------

[Present Day]

"Tom? Hello, you still there?"

A blink, and just like that, his thoughts scattered, leaving the shadow of the memory behind. He pulled it back under lock and key, like always. This one wasn't meant to be shared with anyone.

"Yes, I'm here. Sorry, bad connection."

"Ah ok. As I was saying, Disney is going ahead with this thing, and it's going to be pretty big. They want new stories, and they're very eager to have one with Loki."

That was… a surprise. He hadn't been expecting this.

"Loki?"

"Yup."

"As much as I want this to happen, he's… well, he's dead."

He had to say that with a very heavy heart, even apologizing silently to the one he knew was certainly alive and watching over him.

"We'll figure something out. Are you game for it?"

He rubbed his palm against his face, closing his eyes. He was pretty certain that he heard a chuckle echo around him, light and effervescent and almost inaudible.

"You have to be gentle with my heart, Louis, I can't keep saying goodbye to him. Be still, my heart."

"I understand, man, but this time, you'll get the reins. Tell his story in a more fleshed out way, it's gonna be a whole series."

"A whole series, you say?"

"Yeah."

Tom opened his eyes and smiled, shaking his head in disbelief and joy.

"I'm in."

Just as the call disconnected, he went to his kitchen and opened the fridge, taking out a dark chocolate bar.

"Thank you," he murmured softly, smiling to himself as he placed it on the counter and went off to take Bobbie out for a run.

He knew that it'd be gone by the time he'd return. Just like it always did.

The End

[tripleaxeldiaz]

elmosolyodni for the wordstuck prompts 💕

elmosolyodni: to slowly break out into a genuine smile when being overcome with emotions, like love or utter happiness.

read on ao3

As much as he wanted it to be, as much as he wanted it for himself, Eddie’s never been great at romance. 

His proposal to Shannon was more like a suggestion, a stuttering statement that tumbled out of him when she showed him the positive test six months after their first date. And he didn’t give it much thought again — didn’t have time to think about it — until a couple months into his tour, when his team was swapping stories about wives and husbands over dinner and someone asked, “So Diaz, how’d you pop the question?”

The fact that he didn’t have a story to tell stung more than he thought it would.

He tried to make it up to her — bought her flowers when he was home, took her out for their anniversary every year, but between parenthood and redeployment and the growing chasm between them when he came back the second time, any notion of romance felt harder and harder to hold onto. And when she left, amid the panic and shame and anger, there was also a sadness, a resignation that the romance he’d quietly craved just wasn’t meant for him. He had bills to pay, a kid to take care of, a life to rebuild. Sweeping gestures from him or for him no longer seemed important.

That all changed when he met Buck, as most things in his life did.

Even before they started dating, Eddie wanted to do things for Buck. He wanted to buy him the shirt in the window display that reminded him of his eyes, wanted to make sure that they always had his weird Icelandic yogurt in the fridge for when he stayed over, wanted to wrap him up when he got that broken look on his face and remind him that he is loved by everyone and especially by Eddie. It was a physical need, one he felt in his gut every time, but he’d shut that part of himself off so firmly that all he could do was hope it didn’t linger too long. Buck needed a friend, and he’d be damned if he did anything stupid enough to ruin what they already had, what they’d already built.

It took a bullet ripping through his abdomen to make him realize what a terrible idea that had been.

But a year later wounds are healed, PT is long done, and he wakes up next to Buck every morning feeling happier than he has in almost a decade. He gets to buy the shirt for him, stock up on yogurt, and press himself into Buck’s space until his eyes get their spark back. He can fantasize about the house they’ll buy or the dogs they’ll adopt once Chris moves out.

He can see a titanium ring in the display case of the jewelry store at the mall and perfectly imagine what it would look like on Buck’s finger.

And he can make it all the way to his truck after buying it before the panic starts to set it.

He doesn’t register driving to Maddie and Chim’s until he’s frantically knocking on the door, hoping he heard Buck right and that Maddie’s off today taking care of a sick Jee-yun. The door flies open, and he sees Maddie’s face go from pissed to surprised to confused as she zeros in on the velvet box held limply in his hand.

“Uh, Eddie, that’s really sweet, but there are a lot of reasons why this would never work.”

His laugh is borderline hysterical as he gently pushes into the apartment. “It’s for Buck, but I— we haven’t really— I don’t even know if—” He doesn’t realize he’s pacing until Maddie takes his elbow and steers him to the couch, hands him a glass of water, and pushes him to sit.

“Breathe. Drink,” she says, and he does as his mind keeps spinning. She sets the empty glass on the coffee table and sits in the armchair across from him. “Okay. You want to propose. That’s a good thing, right?”

“Of course.” It’s the best thing, at the very top of a list of things he thought were untoppable.

“Have you guys talked about getting married?”

It wasn’t so much a conversation as a shift in language — one day the phrase “if we get married” changed to “when we get married” and neither of them thought twice about it because it felt so right.

“Sort of,” he settles on.

“And you’re sure he’d say yes?”

“Yes.” There’s few things in life he’s ever been so sure of, no matter what his earlier panic was making him think.

“So what’s the problem?”

He slumps back on the couch, hands running through his hair. “I don’t know how to do it.”

Maddie squints at him. “Eddie, it’s a pretty hard thing to mess up. And you’ve already been married, so don’t you have some practice?”

“That was different,” he says. “Shannon was already pregnant, it was more like a to-do list item than anything else. I didn’t even get her a ring until a couple months later.”

“Well you’re already a step ahead there, so that’s good.”

He sighs, pulling the ring box out of his pocket again and opening it. The thin line of silver running through the black glints in the sunlight, and he can still picture Buck wearing it so clearly, he’s just not sure how it gets there. All he knows is this aching need he can feel in his chest to make sure that however he does it, it’s enough — more than enough — that Buck knows exactly how deep his love runs, exactly how desperately Eddie needs him in his life and by his side.

Maddie moves to sit next to him and takes the box, and Eddie falls back into the cushions again. “I just want it to be perfect for him,” he says quietly. “Romantic. All the stuff people dream about when they think about getting engaged. But I have no idea how to do that.”

Maddie studies the ring for a minute before shutting the box, pressing it into his hand until he looks her in the eye. Her gaze is steady, piercing, and very (scarily) reminiscent of her brother’s. “You are asking him to marry you. It’s already perfect.” The reassurance helps, and it’s easy to smile back at her when she squeezes his hand. 

“But,” she says, reaching for a pen and notebook on the coffee table, “a little romance never killed anyone, so let’s make some lists and figure out what you do and don’t want to do.”

Lists sound good. Eddie can work with lists.

“Rule number one,” she says, already scribbling, “no sporting events. Nothing kills the mood faster than seeing your face on a Jumbotron…”

~~~~~~~~~~

In the end, none of the lists really matter.

Because two weeks later, they’re sitting on the back patio after dinner, night air cool and lit up around them by the lights Chris insisted on hanging for his last backyard sleepover. Buck’s going on about a patient who tried to insist he could do CPR on himself, and Eddie’s hypnotized by his enthusiasm, the expressiveness of his hands and the joyful blush on his cheeks. He says something that makes both of them laugh, bubbling through the quiet of the neighborhood, and Eddie knows, immediately and with every part of him.

He has to ask Buck now. It’s not the candlelit dinner and walk on the beach he’d decided on with Maddie, nor is it even close to as big and bold as anything else they’d come up with. But none of that matters now because his skin is buzzing and his heart is pounding and he doesn’t want the ring burning in his pocket a minute longer — he wants to swear himself to Buck right here, in this moment that is extraordinarily ordinary and perfectly them. This is a story he wants to tell people over and over, to their family and friends and anyone else who will listen.

The universe must still be trying to make up for the hell it put him through last year, because the playlist coming through their portable speaker changes to something softer, romantic, and Eddie takes his chance before he talks himself out of it.

“Dance with me,” he says, standing and offering his hand to Buck. 

“I’m sorry, are my stories boring?” Buck laughs as he takes his hand, folding into Eddie’s space like he’s always meant to be there, arms wrapping around his waist and pulling him close.

“Never,” Eddie says, and he pauses, because the one thing he and Maddie didn’t talk about was what he actually wanted to say to Buck when he asked. And now that he’s here with very little preparation, the huge, all-encompassing feelings he has for Buck refuse to be wrangled into a few measly sentences. None of the words he can think of feel big enough to capture how deeply his love runs, and he can feel his skin start buzzing for a much more unpleasant reason.

Hands squeeze his waist, zoning him back in and focusing him on Buck, on the crease between his eyebrows and the worry around his mouth. “Everything okay?” he asks, because he always knows when Eddie gets lost in himself, sometimes even before Eddie figures it out. 

Buck knows him better than he knows himself. He doesn’t need big, poetic monologues for Buck to understand what’s going on inside his head.

The buzzing changes again, fueling his determination as he slips his hand into his pocket. “I love you. So much it’s almost scary. But I’m more scared of spending the rest of my life without you,” he holds the ring up between them, “so will you marry me?”

Buck freezes, stopping them both from swaying with the music. Eddie watches his eyes flit between the ring and Eddie and back again, holding his breath as he waits for an answer. Finally, Buck’s eyes lock on Eddie and stay there, a soft smile growing and growing until it’s so incandescently bright that Eddie’s afraid he might have to look away or risk losing his vision.

And then, just as quickly, Buck drops his hands from Eddie’s waist and runs back into the house.

Eddie honestly isn’t sure what to make of this, the only thought running through his head being what the fuck just happened here. But then Buck’s running back outside, still smiling and not-so-secretly holding something behind his back, and now it’s Eddie’s turn to glow.

“You’re joking,” he says quietly, cheeks already hurting from a smile that feels permanent and eyes feeling a little wet.

Buck shakes his head, his eyes shining too as he holds up the velvet box. “Bought it like a month ago when Chris and I went to buy him a new backpack, I had to bribe him with a new video game to keep him quiet. I haven’t even gotten a chance to tell Maddie yet.”

Eddie wouldn’t be surprised if the sheer amount of joy coursing through his veins was making him float a couple inches off the ground. “Is that a yes then?” he asks.

Buck’s laugh is loud and sharp, and Eddie can’t think of a more perfect sound. He takes the ring out and tosses the box aside, holding it up next to the one in Eddie’s hand. “Only if you’ll marry me too.”

It’s a flurry, then, of rings on fingers and breathless kisses and whispers of I love you, I love you so much. The whirlwind settles and they start swaying to the music again, holding each other even closer, and Eddie revels in the new weight on his hand that ties them together. He feels light and loved, completely enveloped in this romance that he’s finally able to give fully and receive just as well. 

Buck takes his hand and places a kiss just below his ring, and Eddie knows this is just the beginning. They have a lifetime of love and happiness ahead of them, and Eddie finally feels like he deserves it.

[amiedala]

SOMETHING MORE (the mandalorian x reader)

CHAPTER 24: There's the Kicker

RATING: Explicit (18+ ONLY!!!)

WARNINGS: this chapter doesn't warrant warnings except brief mentions of violence!

SUMMARY: When you hear your name, you think you’re hallucinating it. It comes out of nowhere, and the voice that it comes from is familiar, trusting, warm. And there’s the kicker: it’s unmodulated. You’re pretty sure you’re imagining it, because you’ve spent so many nights playing over Din’s voice in your mind, his promises, the way he broke them.

And still, you freeze, turning around, feeling completely suspended on the space-time continuum. Standing there, unmasked, heartbreak written all over his face, is your Mandalorian.

The Mandalorian. As your heart hammers, drowning out every impulse to run towards him and jump into his arms, you have to remind yourself he left you, and even though he found you, he’s not yours anymore.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: HELLO MY LOVES SO SORRY THIS IS DAY LATE!! i had a lot of family and personal stuff come up on the back half of the week, and the chapter just wasn't where i wanted it to be last night. i hope this makes up for it! and i promise, the next chapter is going to be muchhhhh longer, and (in my opinion) very good ;) ENJOY!!

*

Getting back to Hoth feels like trying to run up a staircase that doesn’t fully exist.

Your starfighter, the one you put together with your aching hands and a little bit of wishful thinking, is rebelling against you. It’s fitting, you think, trying to hit warp for the thousandth time, that in the Crest’s unceremonious, splintered death, it left behind a new ship for you can wrangle in its wake. Immediately, you feel awful, swearing and kicking the parts of your hand-me-down Rebel ship into shape, reminding yourself that your home—the physical part of it, at least—is gone, and it makes you want to break down in the middle of space, get lost in the stars and not think about anything in this forsaken galaxy ever again.

But every time you close your eyes, you see the lightsaber glow green, and you know somewhere deep in your chest that Wedge called you back for a reason. It’s colossal and monumental in the same thundering way finding Din and the baby for the first time was, as illuminated and fated as meeting Ahsoka. There’s something here, something real, something more, if General Luke Skywalker himself sent Wedge a hologram and shook your old friend up this badly.

Finally, you get the ship to move. You kick the malfunctioning warp system a few times before she shudders to life and groans under your pressure. “Kicker,” you mutter, flipping all the colorful, variant buttons on the dashboard to get her to move. “Kicker, that’s what I’m gonna call you. I’d name you Rebel,” you continue, punching the ship into hyperspace, “but that one might be a little too on the nose. What do you think?”

Because it’s a ship, Kicker doesn’t say anything. You smile though, a small, stolen one, and as you exit the crush of warp in front of the icy behemoth that is Hoth, you feel your heart aerating and releasing, nervousness building a colony of butterflies up in your stomach. Luke Skywalker, you whisper a few times, turning his name over in your mouth. You know he’s real. You’ve seen him before, only from a distance, but you’ve heard the concrete stories, the way he turned from desert farm boy into the most powerful Jedi in the galaxy. He’s the kind of man that can turn into myth with the right storyteller, and he’s always awed you. There’s a part of you that connects to him—something yearning and desperate, that part of the tales you always heard where he keeps trying to save people beyond saving.

Wedge knows him. Knew him, maybe, with the mystique surrounding the Jedi that Luke became, but you’ve seen the way Wedge talks about him, how the double suns of Tatooine shine in his eyes, his enthusiasm, his kindness. And you know they haven’t seen each other in ages, because Wedge has been from one end of the galaxy to the next, and Luke—you aren’t on a first name basis, he’ll always be General Skywalker, but there’s something about the way he appeared in your vision that makes you feel closer to him—well, Luke’s been becoming a Jedi.

And after perceiving said Jedi on the seeing stone immediately after your premonitions of Grogu getting whisked away by something evil? It feels like too close of a coincidence. And you don’t believe in coincidences to begin with.

The descent to Hoth feels even colder and slower when you’re shivering in anticipation before you even break through the planet’s atmosphere. You’re in your jumpsuit, and one of the spare blankets from your makeshift bed in the back of the cockpit is draped over your legs, but you’re still freezing. It feels like forever until you’re finally docked and you can sprint towards the control room where Wedge told you he would be, boots stomping heavy and intentional against the frozen ground.

“W—” you wheeze, immediately skidding to a halt the second that you breach the doorframe, all the breath leaving your lungs, “what did he say?”

The room, you realize, a second too late, is full. There’s seven people splayed around the hologram, and they’re all staring at you. You recognize all of their faces, both from seeing them around here on base, and from your youth when you were still a fully integrated member of the Alliance, and you feel the heat rush to your cheeks as you pull your helmet off, trying to walk over to where Wedge is standing with as much grace as you can muster.

“It seems like some of the message is corrupted,” Wedge manages, lowly, pulling you gently out of the way of the other people talking urgently over the holotable. “He said something about a new Jedi, though, and that he’s heading back to find them—”

“Me?” you blurt.

Wedge startles. “What?”

You bite your lip, grabbing his arm and dragging him a bit further away, hoping to avoid the other generals’ earshot. “I—I was on Tython,” you breathed, “just now. And before my fiancé and our kid abandoned—left me on Dantooine, we were on Corvus. Where we met with a Jedi—I think. I don’t know if she identifies as one anymore. Her lightsabers were white.”

Wedge blinks at you. “What?” he repeats, and you steal a nervous look at the others gathered around the hologram. Some of them are examining the table itself, others are watching you, and you feel both incredibly small and incredibly judged. “You’re not making sense, rebel girl. What about you?”

You inhale. It’s shaky, but it’s a start. You’re still out of breath. “I—I’m Force sensitive,” you whisper, as quietly as you can, “that’s why I was left on Dantooine. The baby—Grogu, our son—he’s also Force sensitive, and Moff Gideon was after the both of us. It was safer if we split up. Can,” you interrupt yourself, still out of breath, “can you play me the message? I think that Luke—General Skywalker—might have been talking about me.”

Wedge stares at you. After a second, he takes a half step back, but the look on his face, disbelief, is so close to Din’s of confusion and betrayal after you showed him the same piece of information about yourself. You swallow, suddenly self-conscious, pulling your braid over your shoulder.

“How long have you known?” Wedge whispers, voice urgent. “About your abilities?”

You shake your head. “Not long,” you promise, “two months at most. Listen—”

“Why did you say yes to me?” Wedge interrupts. “Why did you come here? We’re barely anything, right now, Nova, the Alliance is completely scattered after the fall of the Empire. There’s not enough of us to protect you.”

You blink, anger slowly filling up the expression on your face. “I can protect myself,” you hiss back, “and, besides, I’m not—I’m not dangerous, Wedge, and I can take care of myself. Besides,” you say, trying not to choke, “I think Gideon has the baby right now, b—because our ship was shot to shit—”

Wedge faces you again, putting both of his broad hands on your shoulder. Immediately, you close your mouth, suddenly anxious. You don’t know what he wants from you, and you don’t know if you should have told him about everything. But if he was friends—close friends—with Luke Skywalker, he shouldn’t be this uncertain about your Force sensitivity. You bite your lip, unsure how to react, but you can feel the anger and desperation slowly building back up in your chest, billowing like an old, ancient flame.

“Moff Gideon,” Wedge says, voice low, “is after your fiancé and your kid?”

Troubled, eyes furrow, you nod. “Yes.”

“And when you just left the base earlier today,” Wedge continues, his voice intense but slightly strained, “where did you go?”

“I—” You inhale, sharply, breaking his intent gaze to look over at the rest of the people in the room. Almost every single one of them is outfitted in the regalia reserved for admirals and generals, and the ones who aren’t are pilots. You know the uniform. You’re practically wearing it yourself. They’re all looking at you with a strangeness to them, eyes flickering back and forth between you and Wedge, as if asking for permission. “When we met Ahsoka Tano on Corvus,” you continue, trying to direct your conversation to both Wedge and the others in the room, “she told us—me and Grogu, my kid—that she couldn’t train us, because we had emotional attachments to one another. But she told us to go to the planet Tython,” you pause to swallow, mouth dry, “because it has a strong connection with the Force, and we could connect with a Jedi who could.” You stop, looking back at Wedge. “I heard him,” you whisper, “and I saw him. His lightsaber, lighting up the hallway of an Imperial cruiser. I know that Gideon was after my family.” You pause again, inhaling a shivering breath. “When I was just on Tython, I saw our ship. It was just rubble.” You’re trying so hard not to cry, but you can’t help yourself. “I’ve had visions, Force visions, for months now, of the planet. Gideon and his troops were after the baby, and I know Tython is where they took him.”

Wedge’s hand is up against his chin. He exchanges a quick, unreadable look at one of the generals, and then he faces back to you. “How many men does Gideon have?”

You look around at the people in the room again, and decidedly take a step forward, towards the table, towards the paused, flickering, blue hologram of Luke Skywalker pulsating up from the table. “A lot,” you admit, hand flying to your necklace before you startle with the realization that it’s not there, that you gave it to Grogu right before you were deserted out on Dantooine. “I know the galaxy is still in reparations from the fallen Empire.” You swallow, trying to meet the eyes of the rest of the people in the room. “But I don’t think the Empire is as fallen as we previously thought.”

Wedge moves in behind you, and a space opens up around the table. You smile, grateful, falling into rank with the other eight people in the room. “That’s what we’ve been afraid of,” he affirms, bumping his shoulder gently into yours, the same thing your dad always did when he wanted to include you. You let your stature relax, leaning in to examine the pulsing of the hologram on the table. “After we defeated the Empire, most people left the Alliance. It seemed like the natural thing to do when there wasn’t active, visible evil to fight off anymore. People wanted to get on with their lives.” He inhales, deeply. You can see worry lines chiseled into places they weren’t before, the last time you saw him. “Luke, though.” He stares at the rotating disillusion of his friend as he exhales, “Luke knew it wasn’t over. He’s been all over the place,” Wedge says, and this part sounds like it’s just for you, “trying to find people who can use the Force like he can, and like you can too. Trying to rebuild the Jedi Order.”

You swallow, looking up at him. “What does the hologram say?” Your voice comes out shaky and small.

Wedge sighs, pressing the button to play the message.

“Wedge,” Luke says, voice tinny but full of relief. “It’s been a long time, and I know you’re busy, but I need your help.” You watch, transfixed, at the blue, flickering image of the greatest Jedi in the galaxy. You swallow. “I think I’ve found someone. Maybe two people, I can’t be sure. I felt it through the Force.” He pauses again, giving Wedge a look that feels private, intimate, like something only for him to see. You avert your eyes. “I’m headed to the planet Tython. Then—then I’d like your help, and the Alliance’s, to help safeguard whoever I find.” You look at Wedge. “I know it isn’t fair to ask. I know I’ve been distant for a long time. But I need you to know that the galaxy is still in danger. I feel it, Wedge, and I know you can too. I’ll see you soon.” And with that, the holotable flicks off, the rotating, grainy, blue image of Luke Skywalker himself turned to dust.

“He found you,” Wedge says, but it sounds more like a question.

“No,” you whisper, voice small. “No—I saw him, but it was a premonition. I didn’t call out to him.” Your eyelids flutter, because you’re trying to hold back tears. “Grogu,” you say, voice even smaller than it was before. “Gideon has Grogu.”

Wedge exchanges looks with the others in the room, then looks back at you. You’re exhausted, and you rub your hands over your tired eyes, pressing until you see stars. “So Luke is going after Moff Gideon?”

“Yes.”

“So we need to help him.”

You spin around, back to Wedge and the generals. “No,” you enunciate, trying to stress just how bad that idea is with a single syllable. Then your words come flooding back. “No. We—you, any of you—cannot go after Gideon. I know you want to, and I know you’ve taken down plenty of the Empire, so I know you’re capable, but you can’t.” You look back at Wedge. “You can’t,” you whisper again. “I’ve seen him. He’s flattened entire cities in his destroyers, and he’s ruthless. He’s power-hungry, and anyone or anything that stands in the way of that is something that will soon be dead. I held him off once,” you say, projecting this part to the rest of the room, “once, and I barely got out of there in time, and it drained me for days. I still feel that exhaustion here. You can’t help Luke with this. Protecting me, and whoever the other Jedi are—that’s what you need to do. I know this is horrible. I know you probably feel helpless.” You swallow, fingers grasping around open air around your throat where your necklace used to be. “But you can’t take on Gideon. Not alone. And not even with all of you. I’ve seen how that story ends. It cost me my family.”

Wedge stares at you. “So you’re suggesting we do nothing? To help Luke Skywalker? To get your kids and fiancé back?”

The question burns. You meet his gaze. “No,” you answer, finally, “I’m suggesting we strategize before we attack.”

There’s rumblings from the generals in the background, but Wedge holds up a hand, and the low voices cease. You swallow, trying to push your shoulders back, give off confidence, but you’re not sure if it’s working. Wedge nods at you, and you feel relief spread through your whole body as he turns back to the generals. “Nova’s right,” he says. “There’s not enough of us left to adequately fight off Gideon and the troops he has.”

“He has a weapon, an awful one,” you say, stepping forward. “It’s called the Darksaber.”

No one seems to blink an eye at that one, but Wedge looks at you. “Is Gideon Force sensitive, too?” he asks, and you shake your head.

“No,” you answer, softly, “but this weapon isn’t like a lightsaber. It’s cruel, and ruthless, and its blade is black, vibrating with a ring of white around it. He can use it, and he has, and he’ll continue to until he’s been stopped—”

Suddenly, all the lights start blinking, sirens blaring. You jump back in panic as everyone immediately mobilizes, starts pulling weapons out of hidden places, running out of the room. Wedge beckons for you to follow him, so you do, and your legs scream with the soreness of trying to climb to the top of the seeing stone back on Tython.

“What’s happening?” you yell, following Wedge into another control room.

“We’re under attack,” he answers, grimly, his face paling. “You need to go.”

You blink, coming to an abrupt halt. “What?”

“It’s Gideon’s men,” Wedge says, turning around to face you. “It’s not Gideon himself. But he’s sent in three fighters, and they’re big ones. I assume they’re after you?” he asks, and your stomach twists. Wedge starts striding towards the hangar, and you follow him, immediately getting blasted in the face with Hoth’s frozen air.

“It’s three fighters,” you say, urgently, “I’ve taken out six of them before, Wedge, singlehandedly, let me get in the air and I can shoot them down—”

“No,” he interrupts, “we’ve got it. I promise. You have to go. There will be a decoy ship alongside you, one that looks enough like yours so they’ll follow it. Only when that ship is clear do you leave the atmosphere, and then you immediately jump into hyperspace.”

You’re frozen.

“Do you understand?” Wedge asks, and you exhale, letting go of all the seizing stress in the pit of your stomach.

“Yes,” you answer, and he nods. You’re at Kicker, so you grab the parka out of Wedge’s outstretched hand, starting to climb.

“Rebel girl,” he calls, and you go back a step to catch his face. There’s so much there. You can feel it the same way you see how worn his worry lines were when you were reunited back on Dantooine. It’s longing, loss, and, somewhere hidden, hope. You see the way he’s trying to convey everything—condolences for your parents, plans to get Din and the baby back to you, whatever was going on between him and Luke—but he can’t vocalize it. You nod at him, smiling softly. “Fly safe,” Wedge says finally, “and let me know where you land. No matter what,” he tacks on, at the last minute, and you see for a split second how concerned he is, “do not turn around. Do you understand me?”

You want to defy him. You want to say no. You don’t want to leave, you want to stay and fight. You promised Din all that time ago that you wouldn’t run, and here you are, deserting the people that you’re supposed to protect. Finally, though, because of the look in his eyes, you nod. “Don’t you dare let them touch you,” you manage, and your voice only cracks on the last word, which is an improvement. Wedge nods back, and then he’s gone, running through the hangar to his X-Wing. You watch him take off, and your eyes track the decoy ship that’s supposed to be yours, and as the three fighters go after it, you exhale and punch it. You’re moving fast, too fast, and your takeoff is sloppy, but you know Wedge wouldn’t tell you to book it if he didn’t mean it, so you fly recklessly and you fly fast.

When you hurtle out of the atmosphere, you catch one of the fighters diverting from the group to chase after you, so you don’t even bother punching in coordinates. You just floor it. “C’mon, Kicker,” you whisper, voice low and desperate, as she shudders and groans to hop into warp. “I know you want to go slow, but now is really not the time—”

And, like the rebel she is, she sputters down to nothing.

“Fuck!” you scream, loud, too loud, it hurts your own ears, but you get up and start pounding on the dashboard while the fighter’s getting closer and closer. You look out the window as you flip switches and slam on buttons, and now you’ve got their attention, too, and you watch in panic as the ships flock to you, firing, trying to hail you on your comm.

“This is an order from Moff Gideon. Turn of your shields and lower your blasters.”

“Like hell,” you spit, “Kicker, I’m serious, I need you to work now—”

“This is an order from Moff Gideon. You have been warned once.”

“Warn me again, then,” you seethe, closing your eyes as you disconnect one of the wires and try to spark it with the other.

“This is an order from Moff Gideon. You are resisting capture. If you disobey one more time, we will fire on you instead of taking you prisoner.”

You ignore them. If this works, the ship will finally hop into warp, and you’ll be in the clear not only to evade, but to shoot back at them. If it doesn’t, you’re about to die in a fiery explosion, and all of your promises to Wedge would go—very quickly—down the drain. You cross your heart and pray to the Maker that you did the right thing, and then there’s nothing, just three very large—and very scary—TIE fighters about to surround you and take you prisoner at best, and then, finally, the glorious rebel she is, Kicker thunders to life. “Yes!” you scream, buckling in, cracking your neck, putting one hand on the accelerator and one thumb over your blasters. You have a second to do this, and you need to do it right.

“This is your final warning. Either board our ship or die.”

“Die,” you answer, your voice calm and not much like yours. As you speak, you push the accelerator forward, hit warp, and fire. You catch the biggest fighter right on the wing, not a hard hit, but enough to knock it back into the other two.

“Get back here, scum—” the pilot shouts, but you’re already in hyperspace.

“That’s Rebel scum to you,” you say, and the grin that swallows up your whole face is worth every bit of the close call.

You don’t know where to go. You don’t really care, because the farther you get away from the Alliance, the safer they’ll be, so you just set Kicker to coast through warp and lean back, seeing how far she’ll take you. Maybe she’ll dump you on a desert planet, or maybe she’ll crash land you on Nevarro again. Your heart feels daggered, impaled. There’s no way you could go back there. Sure, maybe Din wouldn’t be there, but Cara would be, and Greef Karga, and all the other people you met in the Guild. They’d ask questions, for starters, and Cara might go after Din and kick the shit out of him, and it would just leave you on the verge of tears. You want to go somewhere populated, you think, like Dantooine was, even though you know you can’t go back there yet. It’s too fresh, and Gideon’s men might come looking, and, besides, if Din wants you back, he’s going to have to chase you a little.

“Novalise,” you whisper to yourself, echoing the time almost a decade ago where you only had your name out here to hold onto, to bring you back to life. It still sounds like yours—no matter Din knowing it, no matter how you shared it with Arlen, no matter that it’s what everyone in the Alliance calls you now, after you told Wedge you prefer it to your original name. It’s yours, and right now, your own self feels like home.

So you coast. You hop out of warp every few hours to make sure that no one’s after you, but no one seems to have tracked you anywhere. It’s quiet out here, but it’s not the kind of shattering silence that it used to be. You sleep sometimes, huddling under the next of blankets for warmth, and then you go back to your chair to spin and look out at the stars.

You’re not sure how long it takes, but it feels like a few days when you finally decide to hop out of warp for good. You’re not sure exactly where you are, but you need food, and you need fuel, and you don’t think you drifted into the Mid Rim. It takes a little searching for anywhere that looks populated, but when you drift into the middle of an asteroid field, you realize you’re in Polis Massa. You’ve never been here. It’s not as filled with people as it used to be, once you break through the atmosphere on the rock that holds the research base, but it’s large and it has food and fuel. This is where your dad would go, before he joined the Alliance. Here and Coruscant, or what was left of it, had the most history about language and linguistics, and he’d take day trips from Yavin to collect as much research as he could to bring back and share with you.

It feels familiar here. Even though it’s not home, or anything close to it, you know that there’s something pulling you here, and something anchoring you too. The city is dense, but there aren’t a lot of people out and about. It’s dark here, darker than you imagined, so when you park Kicker in a landing bay, you bring a small flashlight with you. People don’t pay you much mind out on the street, even while you’re dressed in glaring orange, which is comforting after the close call you just had back on Hoth.

You wander. For a while, until the city starts getting lighter on the horizon line. Soon, the cafes and small markets on the street open up, and you sit outside, still wrapped up in your parka, glad to not be shivering. You eat, eventually, and have a steaming mug of caf, which helps. You don’t live the way it makes you feel, all jittery and nervous, and you don’t love the taste, either, but you’re happy for the warmth. Eventually, people filter in and out of the streets and you start to make your way deeper into the heart of the city.

You trip over the cobblestones at one point, practically launching yourself into the person ahead of you. You wince at his dirty look. “Sorry!” you call after him, and you hear him grumbling, but he acknowledges you with a nod. When you stand back up, you see where you are—the research institute your dad always talked about, where he’d go and spend hours reading about the different languages in the galaxy, to write them down and bring them back to you. You hesitate, for a second, and then you’re climbing the stone steps, driven by ache and longing.

It’s massive in here. It’s gorgeous, but huge, and the shelves are stacked all the way up to the ceiling. You have no idea where to start, but you pick an aisle at random and start browsing. You’re not sure what you’re looking for, if it’s something to connect you with your family or to connect you to this new life you’re haphazardly building for yourself, but you stumble again and nearly knock over the librarian.

“I’m so sorry,” you manage, seeing how tiny she is, how frail. “I’m sorry. I—”

“It’s quite all right, dear,” she answers, kindly, adjusting the wire-rimmed glasses on her face. “Can I hep you find anything?”

“The…language section,” you say, decidedly, eyes still caught on how many books there are here, how many years it would take you to read every one. “Linguistics.”

You follow her deeper into the labyrinth of bookcases, and when she shows you where the linguistics shelves are, you thank her excessively, your gaze buried deep on the titles on the spines. Most of them are in Basic, likely for inclusive access to anyone who ventures here, but there’s so many that have unfamiliar letters, the way they jut out and curl around themselves, and when your finger finds one, it falls open.

You don’t know what it is at first. You just feel called to it, opening it up and poring over the pages, and then a familiar word catches your eye. Kar’taylir. To know. To hold in the heart. Your own heart catches in your throat, stomach twisting itself over in impossible knots. You slam the cover closed to look closer at the text, and you realize it’s a dictionary of Mando’a, and all its translations.

There are tears in your eyes. You came here, to be closer to your father, sure, but also because you wanted to build something new. And you walked through these doors that held millions of books, and the one you picked out was a dictionary of language that your fiancé shared with you. It’s too much. You choke back a quiet sob, hoping everyone else here for research can’t hear your silenced wailing. Against your better judgement, you tear through the pages, looking for the familiar syllables, and when your finger finds the word cyar’ika, you have to close your eyes and desperately beg your heart to stop beating so horrifically, to slow the pulse down.

You follow the word over to its translation in Basic. Cyar’ika, it reads, sweetheart, beloved.

Beloved. Beloved. It says beloved, it doesn’t just mean sweet thing, it doesn’t mean that you’re kind and close to his heart. Din had been calling you his beloved for months, and then he fucking left you.

It’s too much. Everything is hot and fuzzy. You slam the book shut, heart pounding a staccato in your chest. Immediately, you get up and run. You don’t know where you’re going. In hindsight, you should have put the book back, but you didn’t. You’re running. You promised Din you’d never run, but he promised you forever and then stole it away, so you don’t owe him a damn thing anymore. You’re crying, loudly, openly, and when you rush by the same librarian you toss her a halfhearted apology.

You trip going down the steps, bang your knee up something horrible. It makes your eyes flash white hot for a second, but you pick yourself up and just keep going. You only have a vague idea where Kicker is, but you run in that general direction, blood dripping down your scraped knee, and then you’ve found the landing slot. You hurry up the ladder, not even bothering to get out the bacta kit that you stowed in the hull of the ship, just desperate to get out of here, to go somewhere else. It doesn’t matter.

You have history with Din on so many planets, it’s impossible to pick one where he won’t be hanging in the air. But something feels horribly right about heading to Tatooine, considering he hates desert planets and you can hide in plain sight. Maybe you’ll go to Mos Eisley and pick up bartending, maybe you’ll be a hermit that lives in the sand, maybe you’ll learn to speak Tusken and really never be seen from again. But before you breach the atmosphere, you call Wedge.

“Rebel girl,” he sighs, coming in almost immediately. “I was worried. You didn’t respond earlier.”

“I’m sorry,” you whisper. That seems to be the only thing you can utter today. “I—I went into warp for a while, turned off my comm. I was just on Polis Massa, just for the day, but it’s not—”

“Safe there,” Wedge interrupts, and you want to tell him that’s not what you meant, but he’s still talking. “We intercepted the comms of some of the people sticking close to the Empire. There’s enemies there, I’m glad you got out.”

“Me too,” you say quietly. “I’m going to Tatooine. Not forever, just for a bit. I figure I can ditch Kicker—the ship—somewhere safe and get some sort of job for a few weeks, throw people off my trail.”

“Good call,” Wedge says, then he sighs. “Luke’s from there, you know.”

You swallow. “I know. Listen, don’t tell anyone else where I am, but if he asks—”

“I’ll tell him where you are,” Wedge assures you. “Can you get word out to your fiancé?”

You gulp, slowly coating towards the atmosphere line, watching how your whole vision fills up with sun and sand. “I’m not sure,” you say, barely anything at all. “Listen, Wedge, I gotta go. Thank you for checking in on me. I’ll tell you if I’m headed anywhere else.”

“Do that,” he agrees. “Lay low. Unless you need to go after Gideon. But if that happens, you call me. You have to promise you’ll let me help. Not the full Alliance, if you don’t want our guns and ships. But you have to call me. I’m not letting you go in there alone.”

Your eyes fill up with tears. You don’t have the energy to argue, really, so you don’t. You just nod, slowly, finding a safe place to land. “I promise,” you say eventually.

“Nova?”

“Yeah?”

“Be careful.” You hear the line go dead, but you nod again against your own company in the cockpit. “

“I will,” you manage, low and deliberate.

It’s hot out here. It’s a no-brainer, you know how relentless Tatooine’s suns are, but it’s even worse than you imagined. You shed the parka, most of the jumpsuit, and tie your hair up on the top of your head before you step out into the sand, but even then, in just your tank top and light pants, it’s ridiculously hot. You struggle for the first few klicks, and then the suns slowly start to go over the horizon, and it’s a bit more bearable. You drink the last of your water, and keep stumbling closer and closer to a settlement.

It’s not Mos Eisley, but it’s a cantina. Smaller, probably lower profile, and you stagger in with your empty water canteen and your bag full of the few credits you have left, and you pick a small table out of the way to sit down upon. The wall is cool, and you press yourself up against it as you signal the waitress.

She’s definitely not human, but you’re not sure what race she is, because the dark in here is such a stark contrast against how blinding the light was outside, and your eyes haven’t fully adjusted. “Hi,” you say, your voice coming out cracked. “Can I please get some water, and—and something to eat?”

“What would you like?” she asks, and you balk at the menu, all of which has meat on it. The thought of putting anything made out of mat in your mouth makes your stomach roil, so you shake your head.

“Is there anything you offer—um, that doesn’t have meat?” you ask, and your words come out small.

“We have a plate of vegetables,” she answers, “but they’re not the freshest—”

“I don’t care,” you interrupt, warmly, “that’s fine, thank you.”

She gives you a soft smile and offers you a whole pitcher of water. You should pour some in your canteen, but you just start drinking straight from the jug, gulping it down as fast as you can, trying to get rid of the dry heat in the back of your throat. When she comes back with your food, the water it totally drained, and you ask for a refill as your stomach grumbles.

“Can I get anything else for you?” she asks, and you shake your head, and she starts walking away.

“Wait,” you call after her, mouth full of food, “wait—uh, do you happen to have any positions open? For a job? I can’t offer much, but I’m a good cook, or I could clean, I’m good at that too—”

“What’s your name?”

You swallow around your mouth of food. “Novalise. And I usually have much better manners than this, I’m sorry.”

She smiles. “I’m Kuna,” she answers. “We only have pick-up jobs available around here right now, I’m afraid. It’s not steady pay, but it’s something, and at least it’s out of the heat.”

“Yes,” you say immediately, “yes, I would love that, whatever you have for me. Thank you.”

Kuna nods. “Dinner’s on the house,” she says, voice still lowered, “and you can come back sometime tomorrow to start, if that works.”

“Yes,” you nod. “That sounds wonderful. Thank you so much.”

You sleep better that night than you have in the last week, which isn’t saying much, but at least the hulking silence of being alone in the ship is satiated with the knowledge that you’re not going to be easily accessible to anyone that doesn’t wander into the cantina, and after you hike back to Kicker, you fly her closer to the hangar on the edge of town and cover most of the ship with a tarp you find rolled up in the hull. As long as stormtroopers or anyone associated with Gideon doesn’t stop in the hangar on the outskirts of town, you’re safe.

The work is hard, and slow, but it’s rewarding. It gives you that same distracted feeling that working with Arlen at the hostel did, and something to show for it. You mostly clean, sweeping out the freshers and scrubbing down the bar, but you get the stools spotless and you’re able to polish the backs and seats of some of the other cluttered chairs, moving tables back and forth to best optimize the space. After a few weeks of working a handful of days, Kuna lets you back behind the bar. Mostly, you’re making small drinks, no big cocktails or anything fancy, but you like it. It’s nice to interact with people, even if you don’t share a language with them, and it keeps your mind off the book of Mando’a and Din stranding you on Dantooine after promising you an eternity.

You don’t care that it’s temporary. There’s nothing momentary about heartbreak, nothing compartmentalized enough for you to simply forgive him. Not now. And maybe not ever. But your heart yearns for Grogu. Whenever you let your mind wander, you tap into the Force as much as you can, searching for him, or searching for Luke Skywalker, trying to figure out if they’re okay, if Grogu is still under Gideon’s grasp, and in the corners of your visions, you look for Din.

It’s involuntary. It hurts, and it leaves you reeling, heart spinning out into an abyss you can’t cartograph your way back from. So you try to stay distracted, try to keep busy. Days pass, and you’re not sure for how long, but they’re filled with work and you sleep at the end of them, restless, with nightmares, but you’re still getting sleep, and that’s all that matters right now.

Kuna lets you start serving drinks unsupervised, which isn’t much, but it makes you feel accomplished. The whole cantina looks better every day you’re here, and it’s something to be proud of, especially since you haven’t done anything to call attention to yourself other than being a woman in the middle of a skeevy bar in the desert, which just means you attract creeps instead of stormtroopers. It’s a good bargain. One night, you serve a regular, a Twi’lek with green skin, not purple, and you can look at her without seeing Xi’an, her dead body, or Din. She’s kind, and she asks about you as much as you ask about her, and you walk out of the bar to clean up the mess one group of people left behind, letting the rest of the people filter out for closing time.

When you hear your name, you think you’re hallucinating it. It comes out of nowhere, and the voice that it comes from is familiar, trusting, warm. And there’s the kicker: it’s unmodulated. You’re pretty sure you’re imagining it, because you’ve spent so many nights playing over Din’s voice in your mind, his promises, the way he broke them. And still, you freeze, turning around, feeling completely suspended on the space-time continuum.

Standing there, unmasked, heartbreak written all over his face, is your Mandalorian.

The Mandalorian. As your heart hammers, drowning out every impulse to run towards him and jump into his arms, you have to remind yourself he left you, and even though he found you, he’s not yours anymore.

*

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*

I HOPE YOU LOVED IT!!! thank you all for being patient and bearing with me these past few weeks!! i promise more is coming, and we still have the whole last arc to go, so SM isn't ending soon ;) and when it does? i already have plans for a sequel in the works!

so sorry again that this is a day late!!! i hope you loved it anyway <3

xoxo, amelie

[vampiredecay]

Can I request a Star x Female reader where she meets someone at the Boardwalk that she really likes, like they have been meeting up for awhile and wants to introduce them to the boys in order to join their little family? <3

OKAY so this was so cute that i kind of completely ran away with it lmao. i really hope you like it!! i wrote it in stars pov i hope thats okay. 

Crescent Moon Earrings

rating: everyone

word count: 1,804

tags/warnings: its all fluff my dudes, star x female!reader, female pronouns used, stars pov

---

Nights like these weren't new for Star. Wandering the boardwalk, either with Laddie or the boys, getting lost in the sea of humanity, looking for a good time or a good meal. The moon was bright and full, and she could feel the pull in her skin, making her sway with the weightlessness of it. Laddie was clinging to her hand, leading her nowhere in particular. Stars' eyes glanced around her, watching the families and couples and tourists buzz around, happy and carefree. It made her a little bit hungry. 

However, before she could be pulled too far, something caught her eye. Or, rather, someone, standing at a clothing stand, looking over the ridiculously priced items at hand. 

The young woman browsing was beautiful. Her expression was content, focused on a particular dress that caught her eye. She looked at the price tag, and cringed, her eyebrows furrowing and mouth tipping down. Star thought it was really cute. 

Laddie was tugging at her hand, confused at what she was looking at. "Star?" he asked, and she looked down at him for a second. The brunette squeezed his hand and smiled reassuringly. When she looked back over to the girl, she was walking away from the shop. 

"Come on, Laddie." Star said, quickly walking in the direction the girl went. 

The human stopped eventually, in front of another shop, this time for jewelry. Star slowed down, biting her lip. She turned to Laddie and kneeled in front of him, asking "Can you stay here for me, love? I need to do something." The boy nodded, giving her a big smile. Star thanked him, giving him a quick hug before turning back to the jewelry stand. Thankfully, the girl was still there, looking at an earring display and thumbing her ear. 

Star walked over calmly, looking over the girl's shoulder, seeing a pair of crescent moon earrings in her hand. She smiled, "Those would look great on you." 

The young woman jumped slightly, turning around and almost bumping right into Star. When she realized that it was Star who was behind her, and how close they were, she giggled shyly and backed up. "Oh- thank you!" The human looked back at the jewelry in her hand. "I've been thinking about piercing my ears for a while, I've seen stands around here." 

Star shook her head at the mention of the cheap piercing stands. "They're a rip off." When the girl looks disappointed, Stars quick to amend with "If you want your ears pierced, I'll do it." 

She giggled again, tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear. "That'd be nice, thank you…" She paused, and the brunette realized that she was asking for her name. 

"Star," She stated, holding out her hand to shake. The girl smiled sweetly and took it. "Star." She repeated, and the way she said it made Star giddy, "I like Star. I'm Y/N." 

Star couldn't help but let out her own giggle, rambling just a tad, "Y/N.. Y/N's good, I like Y/N." 

There was a pause, and they were smiling at each other, but then a familiar ache came crawling into the vampires stomach, and she sighed a little. 

"I have to go… I'm taking care of my little brother," Star looked behind her, and was relieved that Laddie was still standing and waiting, "But if you want, I'm going to be here tomorrow. We can pierce your ears then." 

Y/N looked thoughtful, playing with the earrings still in her hand and chewing on her lip. After a few seconds, she nodded. "Okay, maybe we can meet back here?" 

Star couldn't keep the biggest smile off her face, nodding enthusiastically. "Can't wait!" 

When Star finally tore herself away from Y/N, she collected Laddie from his spot, swinging their linked arms and skipping. Laddie was laughing, enjoying Star's good mood. He had an idea of what was making Star so happy, and he hoped that it would work out for her. 

____

The next night went well, it went really well. Star pierced Y/N's ears, and put in those moon earrings, and she really did look beautiful in them. After that, they decided to hang out the rest of the night, walking and chatting and getting to know each other. Y/N was funny and charming and absolutely radiant. When they had to say goodbye, and Star had asked if she'd like to meet up again, Y/N didn't hesitate to say yes. If Star's heart could still beat, she bet that it would be pounding loud in her chest. 

____

The rest of the week, Star spent with Y/N, and she knew that the boys were starting to get suspicious. There were only so many excuses that she could make, before they would start to know that something else was going on. She knew that Dwayne tried asking Laddie about it, but the boy was a saint and just shrugged. 

Star had entertained the idea of letting the boys meet her, maybe test and see if she was ready. There were a lot of worries in her head, because she knew that their… lifestyle wasn't for everyone, but Star also knew that she liked Y/N so much, and the easiest way, the best way for them to work out was for her to turn. 

So, Star came up with a plan. She would formally introduce Laddie to her first, warm her up to the idea of seeing her family more. If Y/N took to Laddie, Star would soon introduce the rest of her family, her boys. 

When the day came that she met up with Y/N, Laddie in tow, the humans eyes lit up and she smiled. 

"Hey! You're Laddie, right?" Y/N asked him directly, and he beamed and nodded. The boy offered her his hand to shake, and said "It's nice to meet you Y/N. Star talks about you all the time." 

Star stuttered, eyes wide, but before she could defend herself the human laughed brightly and shook his hand. "All good things, I hope!" 

Then Y/N looked at Star with a hint of a smirk and mischievous eyes, and any arguments fell out of Stars head at that moment. 

After that, the three of them hung out all night. Y/N took Laddie on rides and bought him ice cream, and even won him a small dinosaur plush. It reminded her so much of how the boys took care of Laddie, especially Dwayne, and it made Star's heart ache with affection. Maybe this could work out, maybe Y/N could make a new addition to their family.

Towards the end of the night, Y/N was insistent that they go on the ferris wheel at least once. Star agreed, but Laddie said he wanted to stay behind. 

"Are you sure?" Star asked, and the little vampire agreed. "Yeah, I wanna sit down here." 

The brunette thought that was strange, but she didn't argue. The two girls paid for the tickets to ride and they were shown to a little two seat cart. It was a bit of a squeeze, and Star and Y/N were pressed up against each other as the ride started. 

They talked a little as their cart slowly made it to the top. The stars were shining brightly, you could see the waves crashing on the beach nearby, the few remaining people walking the boardwalk looked like little ants. The only other time Star got this view was when she was flying. 

There was a moment of silence, then Star heard Y/N's voice ask, a little timidly, "Star?"

The vampire looked at the human. "Yes?" she replied, and grew a little concerned at the look on Y/N's face. Maybe it turned out she was afraid of heights?

"What's wro-"

Before she could finish her question, soft hands were cupping her face, and suddenly she could feel warmth on her skin, and Y/N's chapped lips pressed against hers, a gentle pressure that Star didn't know how to process. 

Y/N pulled away when Star failed to respond, she could hear the thundering of her human heart, but before the fear of rejection could settle into Y/N, Star quickly pulled her back into another kiss. She squeaked in surprise, making Star giggle against her lips. They both pulled away this time, and the cart started to climb back down. 

Yeah, Star was praying for this to work.

____

It was a few nights later when David finally cornered Star at the hotel, arms crossed and looking serious. She was honestly surprised that it had taken this long to confront her, but it didn't make her any less nervous. 

"Alright Star, I've been plenty patient, but will you please tell us what's going on?"

She sighed and ran her fingers through her hair. Star supposed this was it, it was time to see if her plan would work out in the long run. 

"I just…". She started, then trailed off, before taking a deep breath and gained the courage to say, "I've met someone." 

The reaction from everyone was immediate, save Laddie, who already knew everything.

"You what?!" Paul shouted, running over and slamming into David's back. David bit back a growl as he glared at Paul. "Since when? Who is he? He got a name? Details, Star!" 

Marko and Dwayne quickly joined the party, just as eager to hear about this mysterious person that Star met. If they didn't meet up to standard, there'd be hell to pay. 

Star smiled at Paul's enthusiasm, raising an eyebrow. "Well, for starters, her name is Y/N. We met a little bit ago. She's lovely, I care about her a lot." 

There was silence as the boys processed what Star had told them. She knew that it didn't have anything to do with your gender, they were just protective of their pack, their family, so her meeting anyone made them want to think about it. She would feel the same if it was one of them who had a special someone outside of them. 

Finally, David spoke up again. "We need to meet her." There was an edge of finality in his statement, leaving no room for argument. The rest of the boys nodded amongst themselves in agreement. 

"I know." Star replied, knowing that whether Y/N would be turned or not, they would need to meet her. "But please don't scare her off, okay?" 

Marko snorted a bit, probably about to say something snarky, but Dwayne beat him to the punch. "We won't.”

Star sighed and nodded her head. Well, it was now or never. She just hoped that Y/N could bite what they were offering her to chew. 

[away-from-anthills]

chapter one-

(prologue)

As conversations died behind them and the Gathering glow of Fourtrees began to fade, WindClan lumbered home.

As they had been positioned northeast in the Gathering, they would have to walk parallel to the Thunderpath to get back to camp. The eldest cats, like Shalestar and Sandwhisker, didn’t even think twice as they walked along the gravelly edge, their pawpads having grown thick enough that they didn’t flinch at the pebbles of asphalt beneath their feet. Some of the younger cats, however, didn’t seem as sure. Marblepaw in particular looked quite nervous, as she nearly always did. Her brother and polar opposite, Twigpaw, was cracking macabre jokes about what could go wrong to Milkpaw and Goldenpaw, who seemed particularly disapproving.

Antstep watched Rainleap, who was in the lead, with a mixture of deep respect, high regard, a sliver of wonder, and a smaller sliver of envy. The speckled gray tabby’s chest was angular and defined, like what one would expect to see on a horse, and his yellow-eyes looked like comets in the full moon’s light. There was not an ounce of trepidation in the WindClan deputy’s figure. As Rainleap’s ears flicked around to keep track of the entire Clan, he began to stop in his tracks and step over to the apprentices.

“The Thunderpath, Goldenpaw, is nothing to be afraid of. You’ll get reflexes with it over time. When I was an apprentice-“ -he stopped and began to sign the words as he spoke them so Milkpaw, who was deaf, could also understand- “-when I was an apprentice, I was the most scared of the Thunderpath of anyone in the Clan. Talonscar, who was my mentor, even wondered if we’d have to cancel my trip to the Moonstone because I’d start crying like a kit if I even smelled the Thunderpath.”

“You! Scared?” signed Milkpaw in disbelief.

“Did you have to cancel your Moonstone trip?” asked Goldenpaw.

“We didn’t, in the end- I got used to the Thunderpath, just as everyone else does. But it’s okay to be scared, too. But remember-“ -he tilted his head and smiled- “-if anything happens, just remember, the adults in this Clan are always looking out for you.”

Antstep thought about his own apprentice, Spiderpaw, who was in camp awaiting the Gathering group’s return. She was more like Twigpaw- a loud, wild thing, rather egotistical, and very clever. She was quite the lot to handle- even Shalestar had been hesitant about assigning her to Antstep, as they were quite opposites - but Antstep cherished her regardless. This would have been the second Gathering she would have gone to, but she and her siblings had to be punished for a particularly nasty prank they had played on Sparkthistle the day before, and so Shalestar instructed them to stay home.

As much as Sparkthistle had deserved that…, thought Antstep bitterly.

Suddenly, Rainleap’s ears pricked, and he looked up, stopping where he was.

“What is it?” asked Twigpaw, but Rainleap shushed him, pointing his tail in the direction of the Thunderpath.

There, a deer was slowly making its way across the road. It was young, not over two years old, yet its pair of antlers were impressive and the color of pale oak bark. It was slim and angular, and it craned its head vaguely in the direction of the WindClan cats. It was a rare thing to see; a beautiful thing to see.

“You don’t see one of those every day,” Rainleap whispered, signing so Milkpaw could understand. “Majestic, beautiful things.”

Even the older cats- Shalestar, Sandwhisker- in the front turned their heads to catch a glimpse of the stag. A sense of stillness washed over the Thunderpath, and the stag’s black eyes shined like the Moonstone under that pale moon light.

Everything was still.

And then, there was a noise. Slowly, one by one, the cats of WindClan raised their ears. It was at first, a low hum, but as it approached, it grew louder and louder. A yellow light emerged from the distance.

Headlights.

The stag froze.

The red monster barreling down the road, then, did something monsters never do. Trying to avoid the deer, the beast swerved against itself, its rubber feet skidding along and making a stomach-churning screech. First one way, then another, and then, as Shalestar ordered WindClan to run, as cats ran every direction, as Antstep leapt into a nearby patch of bracken with Russetfoot and Rockscratch close behind and as all the forest seemed to spin, there was a horrible shock, a horrible wail, a horrible crash as the monster plummeted off the road into a nearby tree.

A plume of smoke escaped the monster’s snout. It had, earlier, been big and boxy, but it looked crumpled and almost pathetic now. It looked so very, very… small.

The deer was nowhere to be seen.

A heavyset twoleg in overalls clambered out of the monster’s side door and began to swear as he inspected the damage that had been done. He seemed to get angrier and angrier, his fists tight against themselves and his face red, until he caught sight of a small, bloodied gray body, and his gaze softened.

It was Rainleap.

Gone was the confidence, the charisma, the aura so perfect it had to be sent from StarClan themselves. The tom was limp, crushed between the bark of the oak tree and the front grill of the monster. He was positioned nearly upside down, as if he had tried to jump out at the last second. His chest was crushed inward. His head craned downward, throat-up; a stream of blood left his upper lip and began to pool around his head like a halo. He looked like a dying egret as the moon turned his speckled gray fur pale and as the blood gave it an awful, wicked glow.

The twoleg pried Rainleap’s body from its position and carried it in his. It sunk into his leather gloves, wet and limp, like a newly-borne kit. The twoleg clicked his tongue and mumbled something in a sympathetic, pitying tone. Wandering over to the back of the monster, he picked out a shovel, and began to dig the dry earth near where the monster lay. One, two, three scoops of dirt were dug out, and then Rainleap’s body was set down. One, two, three scoops of dirt were put back, and he was gone.

Shalestar’s expression was unreadable.

For a moment, Emberheart reached out to the makeshift grave, which stood just by the twoleg’s feet as he pulled a little device from his left pocket and began to speak into it. Shalestar pulled her back. WindClan warriors began to cluster around their leader.

“What will we do now?” Antstep timidly asked the blue-gray tom, his amber gaze still focused upon Rainleap’s grave- not simply because of how fast everything had gone, how it felt the earth was still spinning beneath him, but because it hurt his heart too much to look at Shalestar.

“We need to go home,” said Shalestar. The back of his throat sounded pained in a way Antstep had only heard from him a few times before. “I… I have a lot of work to do.”

And then, he turned to address his Clan- the wide-eyed warriors, the terrified apprentices, all of whom were looking to him for answers. He looked to the sky- the moon was not quite at its peak.

But was he looking to check the time, to know how long he had to choose a new deputy- or was he looking for another speckled star in that endless night sky?

“Expect your new deputy… by Moonhigh.”

-

A terrible feeling began to bubble in Antstep’s belly as WindClan hurried away from the spot where Rainleap had died. The uncertainity that hung in the cool night air was so thick it was tastable- and it tasted bitter as bitter could be. Shalestar was on his last life, and it was as if Rainleap was born to replace him. If Rainleap was not to be Rainstar, if WindClan had been robbed of the future that it had built its back on recently… who would take the mantle instead?

For the most part, Antstep considered his Clanmates. Emberheart would be a good leader. Or Toadpool, although he was a tad too naïve. Russetfoot, maybe? Or perhaps Stoatslink… Sparkthistle, definitely not.

And yet a slither of him wondered. How would he do as deputy? It was unlikely Shalestar would elect him, of course, but the thought still sprang to his mind…

Soon, the forests gave way to the open meadows of WindClan. Heathers and tallgrass danced in the air, the pathways that WindClan moor runners had trod upon for generations glowed silver, and the entrances to tunnels that were founded beyond the memories of one’s memories beckoned under the starry sky. Yet the worry of returning to WindClan territory- the worry of telling those who had stayed behind the freak accident, the blunder of StarClan, that had befallen Rainleap- eclipsed the beauty and the warm scent of home.

A small, dark gray figure stood in the distance- Antstep recognized her immediately. Spiderpaw sped towards him, her eyes aglow with curiosity. He realized she had likely sat there waiting nearly the entire time they had been gone.

“How did the gathering go?” she squeaked, skidding to a stop in front of him. However, as soon as she was struck by the expression on Antstep’s face, she lost enthusiasm. “… Did something happen?”

Antstep didn’t want to explain to her that Rainleap had died- as he knew she, talkative as she was would then go and tell the rest of the Clan. There is no worse way to hear news than an apprentice who doesn’t fully grasp the severity of what has just happened.

“Shalestar will tell you,” he replied. Spiderpaw looked confused, but upon seeing the other, similarly-glum faces of the other WindClan cats, she nodded and turned away, her large ears still pointed towards them in hopes of eavesdropping.

As the cats trod closer, through the layers of gorse-flowers that cradled camp, their dens came into view. All the cats in the little sandy hollow’s eyes were upon them, waiting to hear the news of what had happened at the gathering.

“How are the other clans?” asked a ginger molly, peeking her head out of the nursery as a tortoiseshell kit gnawed at her foot. Before she could even finish the question, Molethroat came running over to her, burying himself in her shoulder.

“Where’s Rainleap?” asked a male dark gray tabby apprentice nearly identical to Spiderpaw. There was no reply.

A dreading curiosity began to wash over some of the WindClan cats who had stayed in camp- even Cherrycloud’s kits seemed to pick up that something had just happened. Some didn’t seem to want to know, instead shifting their weight back and forth as they imagined what horrible things could have happened.

“Maybe Tatteredstar announced that she wants ThunderClan to take over the whole forest. Maybe she’s taking Rainleap as hostage, and we have to pay ransom,” said the male dark gray apprentice- he clicked his cheek, as if to say he was telling a joke, but his breath smelled of anxiety.

“Don’t say that sort of thing, Coalpaw!” scolded his mother next to him as she exited the nursery. He lowered his head, looking rather ashamed- but something caught his amber eye, and he stood to full attention. Shalestar was making his way up the Tallrock. Arthritis wracked the old tom, and his ears looked particularly weather-beaten in the full moonlight, but his gaze was determined. This was something he, and only he, could do.

“Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey gather beneath the Tallrock for a Clan meeting.”

Fraught silence filled the air as WindClan cats shuffled around, finding their own seats. Antstep positioned himself in the middle alongside Russetfoot, trying to avoid any cats who were close to the late WindClan deputy- he was never good at comforting others, and he figured he’d just be in the way. Whitetooth and Marblepaw sat themselves just by the base of the Tallrock, facing their Clanmates instead of their leader.

“The Gathering, this evening, came and went with no incidents. There was an argument involving Tulipstar of RiverClan and Tatteredstar of ThunderClan, but it was settled, and at no point did it involve WindClan.”

Coalpaw seemed relieved that the situation he dreamed up on his own had been disproven.

“On the way back from the Gathering, WindClan walked on the side of the Thunderpath. We have done this for many Gatherings before, and in all of the cases I can remember there was no accidents. However-“ -Shalestar swallowed- “- a monster swerved off the side of the Thunderpath into a tree, hitting and killing our deputy, Rainleap.”

There was a second where the words Shalestar uttered had not yet been processed. And then- slowly, at first, and then all at once, like a kit wading into the water- the sandy hollow broke into howls of ugly grief. Stripedwing, Rainleap’s sister, collapsed to the sandy floor in shock, and Russetfoot hurried over to where she was to comfort her. Talonscar, who had barely managed to leave the elders’ den when the news was announced, began to whimper as the other elders comforted them. The air smelled of the salt of tears, and Antstep felt his head fog up with a headache of sympathy. Even Shalestar- almighty Shalestar, steadfast Shalestar- seemed to crumple as he took in the sights and sounds of grief and panic. WindClan was mourning its most gifted son.

Shalestar waited a very long time to continue, letting the grief of the Clan bleed out into the earth. At long last, when the initial howls gave way to silent weeping, he continued. “We were not able to secure his body due to external circumstance, but rest assured, his body was buried in a respectful manner.”

By his killer, Antstep thought, but he knew saying anything would only make it worse.

“Rainleap was many things- talented, humorous, kind, intelligent- but, most importantly, he was one of us. He would have dedicated more lifetimes to WindClan than the amount of lifetimes all the leaders in this forest have put together. He was born the weakest kit of his litter, he died the pride of all of WindClan, and all of the forest. It was an esteemed honor for me to be his leader.”

Shalestar said that with every WindClan cat that passed away- but Antstep knew he deeply and truly meant it this time from the pained sound of his voice.

“As you know, I am on my ninth and final life, and I expect that it will not be long until I join StarClan’s ranks. When I made Rainleap my deputy, I fully intended for him to ascend as WindClan’s leader after my death. However, destiny is, at times, a beautiful liar and a crooked path. As early as I can under the present circumstances, I will choose a new deputy for WindClan- one who I think will be able to take good care of all of you when I am gone. WindClan’s next leader will not be Rainleap, no. I can’t say if they will be better or worse than he- they will simply be different. But I assure you all now, everything will all turn out alright in the end eventually.” He turned away slowly after eyeing the warriors of the Clan below him.

“…Meeting dismissed.”

-

“One thing I’ll never forget, about Rainleap that is,” said Rockscratch late that night, taking a bite out of the rabbit he was sharing with Stoatslink, “for all the professionalism he had as a deputy, for how put-together he was… Damn, he was the biggest flirt in the forest when he was an apprentice. It was embarrassing.”

“Remember when he had that massive crush on Mossfang in RiverClan?” said Russetfoot, wandering up to them now that Stripedwing was asleep. He started to laugh in that sad, fond sort of way. “And she didn’t care at all for him. I swear to StarClan, she would have sooner dated a skunk’s ass! I don’t even think she’s into toms to begin with…”

“Oh, he made such a fool of himself at Gatherings back then… He had a thing for RiverClan, I swear. I always joked if he wasn’t careful there’d be a bunch of baby Rainleaps bouncing around the river someday…”

Antstep laughed at the thought- he had forgotten how Rainleap had been as an apprentice. The idea of Rainleap being anything but perfect had all but washed away in his mind. He thought of the conversation Rainleap had had with the apprentices just before he died, about how much the speckled tabby had feared the Thunderpath as an apprentice. How dark that seemed now…

“Now, Antstep, he was an apprentice by the time you joined WindClan so you never saw him as a kit- but we’ll tell you, as we were his nursery denmates, we saw all kinds of shenanigans him and his siblings got into. He’d be so embarrassed to hear us bring it up now. There was the time he escaped the nursery with Stripedwing…”

As Russetfoot began to ramble off, Antstep thought about Shalestar. The old tom was still in his den, debating to himself on who to choose. Only Whitetooth had been in the den at all.

Maybe he’d choose Rockscratch or Russetfoot? The two red tabby tom twins were Antstep’s closest friends. Rockscratch was more boisterous, more quick to fight; Russetfoot was calmer and gentler and dedicated to his mate. Antstep remembered how Shalestar had been when he had the leader as his mentor- he always appreciated calmer cats, who’d be willing to hear out debates and make amends. Russetfoot would be a good leader. And maybe Rockscratch could be deputy. Wouldn’t that be something?

His thoughts were cut off as he heard pawsteps behind him. He turned to see Whitetooth, the WindClan medicine cat, staring at him.

“Antstep. Shalestar wants to see you in his den.”

Antstep was confused, but he put the pieces together immediately. Of course- I was his last apprentice, and most of the warriors are about my age, so he wants to see me to get my opinion. “Should I go now? Or-“

“Come along with me,” simply replied the medicine cat.

As they walked across camp together, Antstep got a good look at Whitetooth, who he normally didn’t interact with much as he rarely went to the medicine den. The medicine cat was friends with everybody and nobody. They generally kept to themselves, but they were deeply trusted for their skill. Under the clear night sky, their almost all-white fur, which smelled of berries, seemed to glow.

Antstep got the sense Whitetooth was analysing him. Their gaze was scanning Antstep top to bottom- there was a conclusion being reached behind those teal, dawn-colored eyes of theirs, but Antstep couldn’t figure out what conclusion it was.

“Here we are,” said Whitetooth, stopping a whisker’s length away from the leader’s den. “Shalestar told me this was to be a private matter, so I shall see you later. I wish you good luck.”

Good luck?

-

“… You wanted to see me, sir?” said Antstep, suddenly feeling worry boil in his throat. But that worry soothed itself when Shalestar looked upon them. This was, after all, the very same cat who had insisted WindClan take Antstep in; who had mentored Antstep himself.

“…Yes. I have reached a conclusion, Antstep. But I need to make sure it will be alright with you first before I announce it. It is quite a lot to take in- it was for me, after all.”

An inkling scurried around Antstep’s mind. “… What is the conclusion, if I may ask?”

Shalestar took a deep breath. “Antstep. I have always seen you as something of a son to me. When we found you as a kit all on your own, you know I had just lost my children to a wildfire. That is why I mentored you. It felt like a sign, like StarClan themselves dropped a kit on my densteps to raise in place of my own. And… when I die… I want someone who I feel I can personally trust, who I have a personal regard for, to carry on Clan life, not just a fellow Clanmate with leadership skills.”

Antstep nodded, realizing what Shalestar was about to ask him.

“I am aware that it is a lot to ask of you, and that Rainleap left behind big pawprints to fill. But I fully believe that if you have the time to learn the ropes and adjust, you will be a wonderful deputy- and, if fate allows for it, a wondrous leader. So… Antstep… may I make you the next deputy of WindClan?”

At first, Antstep felt ill. He was barely able to keep ahold of his apprentice, let alone an entire Clan! And what would the other Clans think? When Currantstar announced a former kittypet was to be the next ShadowClan medicine cat when he introduced Rosettepelt at a gathering a couple of seasons ago, he was made a laughingstock by the other Clans. And that was ShadowClan! They let in outsiders all the time… But Antstep had been a rarity, only allowed in because it was against the Warrior Code to leave a kit out there on their own.

But then… a sickenly sweet idea hit the corner of his mind and bounced into it. The deep awe the leaders had instilled in him just earlier that night. The way they were all so loved by their Clans. The respect Rainleap and Shalestar got, the way everyone seemed to approve of them. Love. Respect. Approval. It could all be his.

He just had to say one word.

“Yes, Shalestar.”

[whats-rambled-rambled]

Smoke & Mirrors - part 4

Neil x Reader

Chapter 4: Save me

(see chapter 3, 2, 1)

summary: what’s gonna happen if we lock them together for some time...?

warnings: some violence, language and other explicit things, 18+ 

author’s note: 4,8k words, just because I thought I needed to add more plot to it because you wanted 2 shorter chapters instead of a longer one. Who’s laughing now? 

Reading this may cause a slight whiplash. Sorry, not sorry. 

song for this chapter: Aimee Mann - Save me 

Anyway, enjoy and let me know what you think, please?

----

The Protagonist’s eyes darted at Ives. 

“And what did she say?”

“Short answer? Nunya,” Ives shrugged, closing the door behind him.

Wheeler giggled and TP looked at her in confusion.

“Long answer,” continued Ives, joining the other two by the coffee machine, “is that as long as they're doing their job, it doesn’t matter who they are fucking in their free time.”

“And are they?”

“What, fucking? I thought we’ve already--”

“No, doing their job,” TP pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “I have a mission for them, but it requires locking them together for a significant amount of time.”

Wheeler took a sip from her cup. “If they don’t bond, they’ll bone, and I’d say it’s better than killing each other.”

Ives snorted, clearly amused, but TP hid his face in his palms and groaned lightly.

“Was that your plan all along?”

Wheeler gave them an innocent smile. “Wasn’t yours?” she asked, and as she caught the exchange of looks, her eyes lit up. “You’re welcome.”

-----

You found the car parked near the front door and you had to admit - that grey-ish sedan was the dullest, most ordinary vehicle you’d seen in a while. And that’s why it was perfect.

Neil tossed you the keys and proceeded to load your bags into the trunk. You went to check the GPS setting. The total route was calculated for a little over 5 hours, which gave you enough time to go over the details of the assignment at least once on the way there.

As your mission partner took the passenger seat, you handed him the tablet with all the documents loaded up and ready to go. He nodded, fortunately sparing you the small talk and unnecessary comments, and started reading through them out loud as you followed the GPS directions to your destination.

What you didn’t expect was an almost insultingly short length of reports from the previous stakeout teams, and even a slightly more detailed operation brief was not enough to keep you occupied for too long. Exhausting all the work-related topics, you tensed, suddenly uncomfortable in the silence between the two of you. Especially since you caught Neil’s stare, because if his furrowed brows could be any indication, you had a feeling he might start asking way too many questions any minute now. 

As the radio crackled again, you groaned in frustration. There were still two hours left of traveling through the middle of nowhere, and you’d appreciate any distraction that wouldn’t make you want to drive into the nearest tree. Unlike talking to your partner. 

Neil opened the glove compartment and searched through its contents. He found a thick CD case and started flipping through pages curiously. With the corner of your eye, you saw a grin lighting his face when he finally picked one. 

As you heard the familiar piano notes, your knuckles on the steering wheel turned white. Oh, fuck no.

You glared at Neil, who was gently swaying his head, eyes closed, fighting himself to keep a straight face. When the lyrics started, he pressed his palms to his chest right over his heart and looked at you as he mouthed the words.

//When I was young

I never needed anyone

And making love was just for fun

Those days are gone//

You gritted your teeth and focused back on the road, trying to keep in check the rising anger already boiling the blood in your veins, as Neil was clearly feeling the song more and more with every line.

Well, at least this time he wasn’t--...

And then just as the chorus was about to hit, Neil mimicked the opening drum sequence and spread his arms wide, singing along:

//All by myself

Don't wanna be

All by myself

Anymore//

“If you don’t change that fucking song in the next 10 seconds, be ready to walk all the way to the city--...”

“Come on, it’s a classic!” he complained, the biggest smile not leaving his face even for a moment.

You smacked your tongue, finding your most casual voice, “...and I’m not gonna be bothered with pulling over.”

Neil turned down the volume so the music was barely audible, and while it was not what you’d asked him to do, he didn’t give you a chance to scold him. 

“I bet you’ve spent at least one evening listening to that song with a big box of ice cream on your lap,” he smirked, closely watching your reaction to his words.

You could feel your ears burning. Fucking hell, you really hated his guts.

“No,” you scoffed, but even you were not convinced by the sound of that. Judging by Neil’s expression, neither was he. You winced and groaned, ”...shut up!” 

“Nothing to be ashamed of,” - he shrugged - “been there, done that.” 

“Of course you have,” you couldn’t help but snicker at the image planted in your head. 

The blue eyes studied you for a while longer before focusing back at the view outside the window. Meanwhile, the song ended, getting replaced by an instrumental track. You turned the volume up and for the next minute or two, you drove in silence. 

When you heard a light chuckle, you glanced at Neil again. There was something peculiar in the look on his face, a soft gaze in contrast to a knowing grin.

You sighed.

“Do I wanna know what you’re grinning about now?”

Neil raised a brow and his lips parted in an even wider smile.

“Probably not.”

You shook your head, drawing a long breath, wondering how you were going to survive the next forty-something hours together. You could just hope that being at the actual location and starting the real work was going to make it easier. 

Grounding yourself, you stared into the darkness stepping back under the car’s headlights as dusk slowly turned into night. You noticed a faint glow of city lights reflecting in the clouds over the horizon and you relaxed slowly, tuning out anything other than the road ahead. 

Just as the CD player jumped back to the first song again and you switched to a local radio station, now clear of static, you realized your companion had been unusually quiet for the last half an hour. You looked at the passenger seat only to find Neil deep in his sleep and your heart started beating a little faster. Suddenly, everything about the sight seemed endearing - the peaceful face under the ruffled blonde hair, the slightly open mouth almost hidden behind the turned-up collar of the dark navy jacket, the way he wrapped his arms around himself in a little self-hug…

Your lips curled into a fond smile and as your chest clenched painfully, you turned the radio down, wishing you could do the same thing to your feelings just as easily.

-----------

The second you pulled over in the alley at the back of the abandoned hotel, two figures emerged from the door and rushed in your direction. You recognized the fellow agents and jumped out of the car to make the exchange as smooth as possible. 

“Ten-minute window until the patrol comes back,” you said to a short brunette, taking your bags out of the trunk and passing her the car keys.

“Got it,” she nodded, handing you the room key in return. “Our report should be ready before we reach HQ, I will send it to you ASAP.” 

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think that the lack of an easy escape plan is intentional,” said Neil as he grabbed one of the bags and looked around.

“But it is,” you shrugged, walking into the building and heading to the nearest staircase. “No loose ends. You’re either good enough to make it out undiscovered and alive, or you get revealed and --...”

“...and then even having the cavalry on call is not going to make a difference, I get it,’ he sighed, matching your two-steps-at-once pace up the stairs, “Can’t say I like it, though.” 

“So let’s try not to do anything stupid so we don’t get caught, shall we?”

A corner of your lips twitched as you heard him scoff at your remark, but to your surprise, he didn’t take the bait. Huh.

When you reached the room, you turned the lock and looked around, taking mental note of the location of every piece of equipment left by the previous team - two cameras, night vision binoculars, and a parabolic microphone placed by the windows. Some parts of the blinds on the windows were broken, others were missing, but the remaining parts still provided a decent cover from the curious eyes peeking up from street level. Other than that, the room was exactly what you would expect from a stakeout location - peeled-off wallpapers of an undefined color, a small table with an electric kettle, a couple of chairs, a mini-fridge, and a mattress. 

As you went to check the last few minutes registered by the camera, Neil started unpacking the supplies. Seeing nothing interesting on the feed, you grabbed one of the water bottles he’d just put on the table and took a seat by the window, your usual first-hour-of-stakeout enthusiasm fending off the tiredness you felt after the long drive.

Neil took a laptop and sat on a chair at the other window, alternating glancing outside and typing in a message to TP with a quick update on your situation.

Your main objective was to observe the building on the other side of the street, especially one loft that was suspected to be a meeting place for one of the smuggling cells’ bosses. Snapping photos of the vehicles pulling over, of the visitors, and reporting any odd activity straight ahead. The usual. But it was past midnight already and your targets were having a pretty quiet night, apparently. 

As Neil finished filing in the paperwork, he stretched his arms and groaned.

“Tea?”

You rubbed your eyes, a sudden wave of sleepiness flooded your brain as soon as you lost focus on the mission. 

“Yes, please, there should be a box with a green one somewhere.”

“Ah, pity, I don’t know how well it’s gonna mix with the biscuits,” said Neil in a ridiculous posh accent, making you facepalm in response. 

Partially, to hide an amused smile. 

You really were that tired, huh?

“I take my tea with no sugar, no biscuits, and no snarky comments, thanks,” you huffed as your eyes followed him to the table.

“I, too, don’t like talking over a cuppa.”

“What did I just say--” you groaned, smacking your thigh in frustration.

Neil giggled and rolled his eyes, now lit by a playful twinkle. “All right, one ‘green tea no bullshit’ coming right up.”

“Thank you,” you sighed, glancing up to the ceiling as if it was supposed to help with the alarming level of annoyance in your system.

Less than two hours on-site and you already wanted to strangle him. 

Among other things.

And before you could stop your tired brain, it brought up a memory of that karaoke night. 

His hands roaming through your body. The sound of a belt buckle hitting the floor. Your frantic gasp when you felt him inside you. His firm grip on your hips. The heart racing in your chest. Your longing body pressing itself into him even further. His uneven breath on your neck. The quickening pace of his thrusts. Your eyes squeezing shut. His muffled moan when you tugged at his hair. The cold wall against your cheek. Your fingers interlocked. His arm wrapped around you tightly. The things whispered into your ear---

“Your tea.”

“Hmm?” you mumbled, blinking rapidly and focusing your gaze on a thermal cup in front of your face. “Oh, thanks.”

Neil studied your expression curiously, a sly grin hiding in the corner of his mouth.

“Pleasant daydream?”

“Maybe,” you sent him a smug smile and raised a brow.

His lips parted slightly at the implication. Drinking his tea, he schooled his features and sat back on the chair. 

You spent the next moments enjoying the hot beverages, the silence becoming more comfortable with every sip you took. But as the time went by and you ran out of tea, the peacefulness turned into boredom. 

Finally, Neil shuffled in his seat and turned your way. 

"We should play a game."

Even though it sounded tempting, you didn’t trust those roguish sparks in his eyes. 

“We already had a chance to play ‘yellow car’,” - you shrugged - “not my fault you chose a nap instead.”

His puzzled face gave you a hint he didn’t get the reference. Pity.

“I was thinking about some sort of...questions game,” he said and cleared his throat, shifting in his chair again. "To get to know each other better."

"Why?" you stared at him with your mouth open, suddenly taken aback. 

He gave you a half-smile. "Don't you think it's weird that the only thing I know about you is all the ways to turn you on and piss you off?"

"Wouldn't be so confident about that ‘all’ part…" you huffed and lost a train of thought as you spotted the familiar flare in his gaze.

"You’re sure you wanna challenge me like that right now?"

A cold shiver ran down your spine at the way his voice got lower. You gritted your teeth as your mind started racing to find a way out of the dangerous waters. 

"Aren't you a master of multitasking?" you teased, batting your eyelashes.

"And aren't you scared of having an actual conversation?" Neil narrowed his eyes and grimaced slightly. 

"Fine!” you fumed as you tossed your hands in the air in defeat. “Why don’t you get straight to the point because I have a weird feeling you have a very specific question in mind."

A silence that dropped after your words was heavy and you realized you’d made a mistake.

"Actually, I do,” he said, tilting his head and locking his gaze on you. “What's up with you and kissing?"

...shit, walked right into that one, huh? 

You pulled one leg up on the chair, glancing outside the window to avoid the blue eyes boring into you. "It's nothing."

“Didn’t look like nothing to me.”

Sighing, you rested the chin on your knee and wrapped your arms around it, as if that little bit of comfort was enough to make the conversation easier. Your ears were burning, your heart pounded heavily in the clenched chest, and it all was only adding to your frustration. Because it really was nothing. Or maybe it should have been, and that was the issue.

“If you don’t wanna talk about it--”

Your eyes darted at Neil only to meet his soft look. A shadow of concern on his face wasn’t helping, but you were grateful that he was willing to give you a way out.

Although at that moment, you felt you owed him an explanation. 

“No, it’s just that it’s a bit silly,” you said, wincing. “I’m gonna tell you, but if you laugh, I will murder you in your sleep.”

Neil smiled lightly in encouragement.

“Got it.”

So you took a deep breath and squeezed the first word past the lump in your throat.

“It’s just that kissing to me was always something… special,” you cringed, fully aware that you sounded like a flustered teenager. “Like it really meant something. Do you know where I’m going with this?”

Neil’s brows knitted together.

“I think so, yeah.”

“Good,” you sighed, forcing yourself to breathe again. “And some time ago, I made a mistake and opened up too soon, burning myself. Fuck, it’s pathetic, I know, I just…” you hesitated and looked away, feeling the rising panic. You were exposing yourself, again. “...maybe I’m just wired that way and we should leave it at that. And never talk about it again,” your voice was hollow, the result of your brain’s desperate attempts to keep your emotions bottled up, just to keep you safe. 

And after what felt like forever--

“Okay.”

You shot him a thankful look, too overwhelmed to say anything. 

Neil got up, moving his shoulders in small circles to get rid of the stiffness. As he walked by you on his way to the bathroom, he patted your arm lightly. Reassuringly. The tip of your nose tingled and you bit the inside of your cheek, cursing a sudden wave of softness clouding your mind.  

A few minutes passed and Neil was back. He fell on the chair heavily, slowly massaging his temples with the tips of his fingers. Catching a question in your stare, he shook his head and grinned.

“What?” you asked, squinting suspiciously.

Neil chuckled, leaning back and spreading his legs. “Trying to figure you out is giving me a headache.”

You rolled your eyes and scoffed, focusing on the view outside the window. 

“Who we are and who we need to be to survive are two different things, you know.”

“So it’s all an act?”

You looked back at him, suddenly perplexed. “What is?”

“This,” he gestured vaguely in your direction and shrugged. “Or rather your usual behavior.”

You snorted. “Oh, I am a real ray of sunshine, but somehow being around you makes my inner bitch jump out,” you teased, meeting his amused gaze. A corner of your lips curled and you exhaled slowly. “I don’t know, after some time you learn life is easier that way, and at one point the line blurs,” you stopped for a second and frowned, wondering what had gotten into you tonight. “Does it make any sense to you?”

Something new tainted Neil’s features as he looked away, smiling sadly.

“You have no idea.”

Just as you opened your mouth to ask what was wrong, the blue eyes darted back at you.

“I’ll take the first shift, already had my nap after all,” the little laugh escaping his mouth felt forced. “You must be exhausted. Try to get some sleep.”

Oh you were exhausted, all right. But all of the sudden it felt as if he wanted to get rid of you and you couldn’t help feeling a bit hurt by that. There was something in his presence that gave you a hint that it wasn’t the best idea to pressure him about it now, and you slumped your shoulders, nodding.

“Thank you,” you said quietly, getting up. All that held-back fatigue was going to hit you in full force any minute now, and you really wanted to be laid down by then.

A few moments in the bathroom and you were back in the room again in more comfortable clothes. You rolled out a sleeping bag on the mattress and slipped into it, covering your mouth as you let out a small yawn. 

“Wake me up if anything happens or you need me to take over, will you?”

Neil shot you a quick look from his chair. 

“Sure thing,” he gave you a weak smile. “Goodnight.”

“‘Night,” you mumbled. 

You curled up and closed your eyes, hoping the heaviness you felt in your chest would be gone by the morning.

--------

It took your still half-asleep brain a moment to remember where you were and what was going on. You looked around as much as you could without moving your body to avoid revealing that you were no longer asleep. Oh right, the stakeout. 

You noticed Neil sitting on the floor by the only floor-to-ceiling window near the corner of the room, looking outside. The early morning light seeping through the blinds was reflecting in the disheveled blonde hair, a fitting addition to his overall tired appearance. It seemed like he’d spent most of the night working through whatever bothered him after your last talk, but he seemed more at peace now. You studied him in a little moment of sleep-deprived self-indulgence, musing over the dark quarter zip pullover, those absurdly long legs in khaki pants--...

Okay, enough. You sat up, rubbing your face.

“How’s the mattress?”

Hearing Neil’s raspy voice made you quite tempted to invite him over to check for himself.

“Passable,” you replied instead, stretching your arms and wriggling out of your sleeping bag. You nodded at the cameras. “Anything?” 

“Not really. One visitor, already on the list,” he said as his eyes followed you around the room.

“All right,” you sighed, flipping the switch on the kettle. “I need coffee, you want some?”

“No, thank you, but if you could pass me a bottle of water--”

You grabbed one and tossed it to him, heading to the bathroom. 

When you finally looked and felt like a decent human being again, you went back to finish making coffee. As you walked to the windows with the thermal cup in your hands, you caught Neil’s resigned stare. You sat down on the floor in front of him, leaning your shoulder against the wall. A glimpse of internal battle clouded his features and you tilted your head, waiting for him to speak up first.

“I didn’t want this,” he blurted out, and when nothing else followed the statement, you cleared your throat. 

“You have to be more specific, I’m afraid.”

Neil clenched his jaw. You noticed a hint of frustration in his eyes, but then his shoulders dropped and he let out a nervous chuckle, fastening his gaze on the view outside the window.

“I wanted to do things by the book. When TP recruited me… I thought I’d be just another field agent and I was okay with that,” he sighed and grimaced. “But he insisted on fast-tracking me, even when I told him it wasn’t fair to the rest of you.” Neil shook his head slowly and a corner of his lips twitched. “He promised me one of his best agents’ help on the way though. Imagine my surprise when the agent in question kept snarling at me and shoving me around instead.” 

When Neil looked back at you, you realized the meaning behind his words and your mind went blank. You stared into the blue eyes with your mouth open, trying to process everything you’d just heard and its implications.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” you breathed out, feeling light-headed.

“Why?”

“Nobody told you…?” you asked, but his confused expression was his only answer. And you simply couldn’t believe that he hadn’t known all this time. “I’d been working my ass off for that position,” you huffed, studying his reaction to your words closely. “And then you showed up.”

Neil’s face dropped as he finally connected all the dots. “Fuck...I had no idea, I’m sorry.” 

Seeing his sincere look, you sighed, raking fingers through your hair. Fucking hell, what a mess. The impossible mix of emotions swirled inside you and you giggled hysterically, suddenly finding the whole situation absolutely hilarious. 

“And I had no idea I was supposed to babysit you,” you said as you stretched your legs, positioning them alongside Neil’s. 

“Thought we were having a moment here,” he scoffed, smiling lightly.

You smirked and tapped his thigh with your foot.

“Think again.”

Neil tapped you back, stifling a chuckle. “You’re insufferable.”

“Too bad you can’t do anything about that now, huh,” you teased, wiggling your brows as you nibbled at your bottom lip.

The blue eyes lit up. “Just you wait till we finish the job,” he said slowly and placed a hand on your ankle.

But before you could respond, you heard a phone alert and Neil jumped at his feet.

He read the message quickly. 

“Seems like we are about to see some action after all,” he said, pressing the phone to his ear. You downed your coffee and joined Neil by the table.

“Hold on, I’m gonna put you on speaker… okay, now”

“Hope you two are rested,” TP’s voice filled the room. “We intercepted a phone call. Our target is expecting a delivery in the next hour or so. Significant enough that from this moment on, the mission objective changes.” You exchanged looks with Neil, knowing well what was coming next. You walked back to the windows to keep an eye on the street. “We have a chance to prevent this shipment from spreading to different sellers. I’m sending the cavalry your way. But you’ll need to assess the situation as it progresses.”

“Means we might have to engage early, got it.”

“It’s your call, Neil. And as we have enough intel now… no loose ends. Good luck.” said TP and hung up.

Neil tossed the phone on the table and dashed to the bags to prep the equipment. You noticed movement in the loft across the street and snapped a few pictures before looking back at your partner.

“Are you good to go? You haven’t slept tonight.”

He glanced at you and gave you a smug smile. 

“How nice of you to worry about me.”

You could feel the usual annoyance mixed with a new emotion, but maybe you were just glad to be back on familiar waters.

“Nah, I’m worried about the mission,” you snorted. “Especially if we may end up going in there alone.”

“I’m okay. How does it look out there?”

You looked outside again and tensed as a van appeared at the end of the street. “We’ve got company.”

Neil changed you by the window and you rushed to get ready.

-------

After clearing the back entrance, you found yourselves in the underground garage. 

Splitting up, you took down the guards one by one without raising any alarms. 

Neil checked the van and then you both made your way upstairs. You knew there were at least five more people in the loft, but you had to rely on the element of surprise because the cavalry was still on their way. 

As you got to the door, you cocked your pistol and met Neil’s determined stare. You nodded. 

Bursting through the door, your instincts kicked in, allowing you to put a bullet into two men before they had a chance to realize what was going on. In the next second all hell broke loose. You knew one thing - you somehow underestimated the numbers. And just as you thought that maybe you got lucky and got every last of them, someone grabbed you from behind and you felt something cold and sharp pressed against your neck. Fuck.

You dug your fingers into the arm wrapped around your shoulders, but a stinging pain made you stop any further attempts at breaking free. The blood pounded in your ears and everything seemed to slow down. 

You noticed Neil standing in front of you with a gun pointed right next to your head. 

He secured a grip on his pistol and the man holding you yelled something at him, but you didn’t listen, focusing completely on the blue eyes, now filled with a silent question, looking straight into yours.

You let out a shaky breath and blinked slowly. 

A gunshot echoed through the room.

The pressure on your neck lowered and you heard a thud of a body fitting the floor behind you. 

Neil lowered his gun. 

You stared at each other for what seemed like forever.

“Nice shot,” you said, composing yourself first.

He gave you a weak smile, and just as he opened his mouth to say something, your comms filled with a familiar voice.

“We’ve missed all the fun, eh?”

------

Neither of you said anything on the way back to the HQ, not counting the short answers to the questions asked by Ives, but even he gave up after a while seeing you weren’t in the mood for talking.  

You got your duffel bag out of the trunk and looked around. Neil was standing at the bottom of the stairs leading to the building, talking on the phone. You walked up to him slowly, waiting for him to finish the conversation.

“Do they need us to get in to file a report?” 

“No, I convinced TP to give us the rest of the day off,” he said, hiding the phone in the pocket of his jacket. “We can do that first thing tomorrow, I’m just gonna drop the equipment now.”

“Great, thanks.”

You couldn’t wait to get back to your apartment. You tossed the bag on your arm and smiled at the thought of a long hot shower and crashing in your own bed. 

There was just one thing you needed to do first.

Neil took a step towards the building and without thinking too much about it, you reached out for his hand.

“Neil…?”

He stopped and turned around, puzzled. His eyes dropped to your joined hands and slowly moved up to your face. 

You gave him a nervous smile.

“Thank you.”

His features softened and he squeezed your hand gently.

“Don’t mention it.”

And then he smirked.

...of course.

“Guess that makes us even.”

(next chapter->)

[psianabel-writes]

Union Leaders & Ava - Reunion

Post KH3 reunion idea, written for day 7 of khuxweek!

[AO3]

______________________________________

Skuld was the first to arrive.

Her journey - long and confusing, but her feet took her here, into this barren, vast land. Red dust got caught in her black coat and long tousled hair, and she had to shield her eyes here and there from the harsh wind howling. 

Her eyes wandered to the rusted keys stuck into the ground. It clenched her heart in a way she couldn’t explain - 

Somewhere deep down lay a calm sea of memories, waiting for the floodgates to open. Yet only droplets managed to gush through, it's been years since she attempted to make sense of it. 

Four friends and a key. That was all.

She reached a crossroad and stopped her walking, taking the sight in. There was something eerie about it, lifeless and barren -

Why was she here, why did her heart tell her to come here? Her mind was always riddled with questions she found no answers to.

And yet she couldn’t shake off the feeling of a deja vu, haunting her, yelling at her she had to remember.

So close. So close, someone just needed the right tool to unlock the gates.

Confused she sat down, holding onto her bent legs as she placed her forehead onto her knees. 

It had to make sense, eventually.

_____________________________________

Ventus hesitated with each step he made.

"Do we really have to be here?" He said nervously, looking around the area before he eventually looked down to Chirithy hopping in front of him.

"Yes. Well, it is the Fated Place after all. It has to be here." Chirithy answered him, continuing to walk straight forward.

Ventus sighed, but he trusted Chirithy and continued as well, though all his senses were on high alert. 

There weren’t many good memories about this place, safe for one after the defeat of Xehanort he couldn't remember anything good about it. This place held too much pain, sadness, and fear - 

It was the place he faced destiny and lost his friends, gave up his life to prevent the X-Blade from coming to action. More than a decade later the keys watched him again fight for destiny, yet this time the outcome was a better one.

He started to wonder what else they saw.

"Oh!" 

Ventus almost tripped over Chirithy as it stopped in its tracks, making him look into the distance when it pointed forward.

"Someone's here!" Chirithy sprinted off and Ventus had to act quickly to run after it.

He slowed down again when he came closer to the young woman sitting on the ground. She flinched, unwrapping her arms from her legs and almost stumbled away from the spot if it weren’t for Chirithy to indicate to calm down.

"Woah sorry, sorry, I didn’t want to startle you…" Ventus pleaded, holding his hands up to confirm his innocence. "My name is Ventus! Call me Ven."

The woman still looked uneasy but slowly lifted herself up and nodded.

"You two know each other." Chirithy said and both looked down to it, confused.

"We … do?" 

"Yes." It gestured with its tiny arms. "You just forgot."

"Oh, huh."

It still felt so unreal to Ventus. This whole thing about a forgotten past. … But his heart felt good about it, and Chirithy was there, too. … It had to be true, right?

"I don't … remember. Not even my name." The woman looked at the ground again. Her expression became sad - and Ventus walked up to her with a small smile.

"Hey, it's okay! We can be friends now."

Immediately her expression softened. A stir of hidden memories let her believe this was the right decision.

"Once the others are here, it will make more sense." 

Chirithy didn’t say more, leaving the two confused as they waited for the time to pass.

________________________________

To say that Elrena was annoyed being here was an understatement. Never ever she wanted to be here, but Lauriam insisted. Insisted to the point that if she didn't want to come with him, she could just leave.

Harsh words to hear for someone who had to live with a heart now she didn't want.

It was confusing, overwhelming. And combined with those hazy memories that started to appear - where else should she go, as to follow Lauriam to make sense of what was going on in her head.

And he was there in those memories. To give up this connection now would be pointless.

"You sure we're supposed to be here?" She asked, having her hands tucked behind her head. "This place is dead."

"The connection." Lauriam mumbled. He didn't spare her a look and continued walking through the red dust. "We've been through this."

"Yeah, yeah."

Elrena simply waved in annoyance. She just wanted to get over with this, the faster they were the quicker she could be gone again. 

Completely disregarding what was happening as her gaze wandered over the lifeless keyblades, she almost didn't notice how Lauriam halted.

"What's now?" She squinted and tilted her head, looking into the distance where Lauriam was looking as well. "Huh? Isn't that the kid from the Organisation?"

Lauriam shook his head. "No, but this is interesting."

He picked up his pace again and Elrena followed right after him, keeping herself short on words for once.

The blond boy and the black haired woman noticed the two newcomers immediately and both were startled by their sudden appearance. Though Ventus was a bit more interested, he hesitated regardless.

"Fate must have brought you here, too." Lauriam started to break the ice, holding his hands to the side to offer peace, just in the right moment before Elrena could have said anything.

Ventus wasn’t convinced. He placed himself in front of his new friend and made himself ready to fight, squinting his eyes. "You're … you're from the Organisation!"

"Yeah and you're one of the Guardians of Light, thanks for the introduction." 

Elrena hissed from behind Lauriam, but he put his arm up to calm her down again, having her let out an annoying sigh. He really didn't want any trouble and did his best to show it. 

He placed his hand over his heart, taking a deep breath. "We're here because our hearts told us to. And you're here, too, so there must be a connection."

Ventus gritted his teeth. He wouldn't allow the Organisation to harm any more - but his eyes fell onto Chirithy, who ended up tucking on his trousers to get its attention.

"Easy. You, too, know each other."

"Huh?" Both Lauriam and Ventus held their gaze.

There was a connection, they could feel it. Somewhere faint down inside them, a bond they couldn't put their fingers on.

They were sure it would make sense eventually.

Skuld stayed silent. Nothing made sense, but if these people came here for the same reason as her, then … 

"Only a few more." Chirithy mumbled, leaving the others in the dark again.

__________________________________

Brain was silent as he stared at the old keyblade stuck into the ground.

It was deliberately put here, he figured as much, and he wanted to question why. Though the words never escaped him, he was sure he would find out in one way or another. 

But … it was his.

The star-shaped ornaments fell off as he grabbed the blade, a faint glowing starting to appear as life filled it once again. A smile played on Brain's face as he inspected his old weapon, feeling the familiar weight and shape in his hands.

After all this time Master's Defender returned back to his first owner.

"Ready?" A voice sounded behind him and Brain glanced over his shoulder to see Master Ava standing there. He sighed and took one last look into the distance before he turned around to her, nodding.

"It will be nice to see everyone again."

Ava twitched her lips, staying silent as she turned around and waved with her hand in front of her, a portal appearing in front of them.

"Then, let's meet them."

Together they stepped into the portal.

__________________________________

All of them shielded their eyes as a bright portal appeared in the very middle of them. Brain and Master Ava stepped out of it before it disappeared as quick as it appeared.

One good look around them made Ava smile, her heart warm as she saw them again. Her eyes landed on Chirithy, nodding to it as it bowed in front of her.

Though, one more was missing. 

"Who … are you?" Ventus was the first to speak, as no one else dared to say something. 

But Brain stepped forward to speak for Master Ava, smiling as he held his arms out. "Don't worry, Ven. It will make sense soon."

"... Huh?" 

With an open mouth he stared at the two, even more confused than before. Though that didn’t last long, as another bright portal appeared to their side and a boy with grey hair stepped through it, his lips forming a bright smile as he laid his eyes onto the group in front of them.

"Made it!" He exclaimed and both Master Ava and Brain shared his enthusiasm.

In between all this, Elrena stepped forward and gestured with her hands her confusion. "Now what the -" Yet before she could finish, Lauriam held her off, urging her to stay silent.

"Ephemer, Brain, Ventus, Lauriam, Skuld, and even Elrena -" Ava looked into the round as she listed each name, interestingly looking at Skuld as she heard her name for the very first time again. The woman held onto her head as memories slowly gushed through, the barrier unable to stop it anymore.

Taking a deep breath, Ava looked at them again, determination in her eyes under her mask.

"It is time for your final role."

[bubblyani]

Bail Out : 10 (FINAL)

(Bruce Wayne x Reader)

A Bruce Wayne Multi Chapter Series

Chapter 10: Life Sentence (Final Chapter)

Summary: One fateful, drunken night gets you arrested for assault.  However, once you get bailed out by Billionaire Socialite Bruce Wayne,  surprising obstacles get in the way, forcing you to question all your  choices in life, career, and in love.

Word Count: 6200+

Rating: Mature (18+)

Warnings: Violence, Swearing and Sexual Content

Author’s Note: The Final Chapter is finally here! As much as it makes me happy to give this the ending I wanted, I am truly sad to part with this Series. Hope you will enjoy this for the last time <3

CHAPTER LIST

Serene was the nocturnal sky, generously adorned with stars that shone like diamonds. Though an obstinate circle of clouds slowly advanced from the distance, the sky brimmed with enough confidence. Enough to conquer the night with its serenity. A sheer contradiction to the chaos that conquered the rooftop of Wayne Tower. Chaos that morphed into a fight to the death.

Gripping on to the phone, a surge of hope rushed through your system within a matter of seconds. For Blake’s message helped. It was the solution to all this. “LOOK OUT!” Batman’s growl made you look back. Your face grew pale the moment your eyes caught the sight of Emilio, pointing a gun at you. All happened in a matter of seconds. “You’re getting away that easy!” He said, chill embodying him with his hand in the trigger. It seemed death was greedy for your company. Frozen in place, Would you accept? “Goodby-Ow!” A surprise attack greeted Emilio from the back as the Dark Knight forcefully bashed his head with his elbow, leaving Mr. Slender on the ground, fully unconscious. You sighed looking at Batman, relieved to find him well. Except, you realized the evening was not fully resolved. Wait! Your heart raced frantically. Where was Clara all the sudden? Darkness was an ally to Clara, camouflaged as she ambushed Batman from the back. You gasped as you saw her grab his neck with a black wire, forcing him to fall on his knees as she began to strangle him with it. A strong man, he certainly was. You needed no proof. However, sneak attacks such a this were practically anyone’s weakness. Thus, his agonizing roars frightened you. Seemed that death turned its attention somewhere else. And that frightened you more. “No…Bruce” You whimpered to yourself, as your heartbeat grew fast in ten folds. Never had you lost anyone you cared for. And as weak as it seemed, you were not prepared to lose him. Not him. Not him at all.

“Wait! WAIT!!” You yelled at Clara, “DON’T DO THIS! NOT TO HIM!!” 
 Unfortunately, those words did not reach Clara’s ears. Not when her focus was elsewhere. Even through the cowl, Bruce’s face had turned gaunt, struggling to pull the wire off his neck, but failing miserably. With gritted teeth and groans of frustration, Batman was as helpless as he could be. Smothering yourself by the sight of him this way, tears pooled around your eyes. And at that moment.That very moment, was when a memory flashed before you:


“You know what? It’s a darn shame Joe Chill didn’t finish the job…He should have gotten rid of the entire Wayne family”

You remembered Henderson’s harsh words, insulting and harming the reputation of the man you admired before you at the hotel one fateful night. Then you also remembered the rage in your eyes, taking justice into action as your fist bashed through his nose.

Now here you were, having to stand up for the same man once more, except in actual dire circumstances. For it was his life that was harmed instead of his reputation. Being the reckless woman you were before will certainly not help.Not with her. Not with an opponent of this magnitude. As time ticked fast, you had to take action. Smart was key. Practicality was key. His life was key. Tightening your fists, you drew in a deep breath:

“ALPHA!!…” You cried out, to which she did not answer once again. Pressing your lips together, you yelled louder: “CLARA!! I KNOW, OKAY?…” You said, "I know, being in your position, you don’t wanna hear me out. I know!” You continued, “Especially me being the target but…” drawing in another breath for courage, you added,  “But I ask you to make an exception...Oh god!” Covering your mouth, You gasped as she strangled  him tighter. Unaffected, Clara scoffed:  
 “No offense but…A job is a job…” Gathering the courage that spilled all around, you held on to the phone tightly: “Yeah maybe but..What if the job is NOT worth it?” You inquired loudly. Looking up, she seemed a bit surprised. “What?” “I mean…” you paused, “Is Henderson really giving you what he promised?” You said, raising both arms, “Or don’t you have a feeling that he’s stalling ?” Clara stood straight. “What makes you say that??” She snapped defensively. “This…” You replied, pointing at your phone as  you played the Blake’s file on loudspeaker: It was a conversation between two men.

“Sir, about the Bruiser, I think the police maybe onto us” One man said, his tone rife with concern. “Don’t worry, she’ll finally be taken care of” the other voice replied. Which seemingly was Henderson’s. “When do you want to wire the rest of the payment to Alpha?” Henderson’s cackle was loud, “Payment??” He repeated, “No that’s not gonna happen, Paterson” “Sir?” Paterson was confused. “This Alpha..he’s is a sly one, and definitely not the obedient kind. Do you think my plan was to pay that son of a bitch in full?? Nah...as soon as the job is done, I’m gonna get them all arrested...Cause no one...No one messes with Henderson” “But sir-” “THAT’S FINAL!”

Calmer was what you felt, as you put the phone back in your pocket. A few seconds of silence was all that required for Clara to loosen her grip on Batman. Her expression changed. It was filled with shock, as if the recording had slapped her in the face.

“Don’t you see??” You chuckled sadly, “Henderson is trying to make a fool out of ALL of us.” As you pointed at her, at Batman, even Emilio, “In the end...it’s  us who’s getting screwed” Staring at the ground, Clara’s eyebrows furrowed. Being a pawn in someone else’s game was never good news, “That message could have easily been fabricated! ” She snapped with naiveté. You smiled sadly.

“I think you pretty much know that I don’t do that. I never do that” you said, tone brimming with confidence, “Remember, you once called me an unprofessional thug with anger issues? Well guess who’s exactly just that??” You added, “You’re not a reckless one, Clara. I know that. Don’t... let one bad client ruin your life, just don't”

Silence followed you soon after, sending you in to spirals of concern. Yet, it was evident you did your best. And waiting with bated breath seemed worthwhile, when Clara released finally Batman from her grasp. Falling on to the ground, you watched him gasp for air. As much as you longed to be there by his side, you merely kept standing, resolute in protecting his identity and your relationship with him. You stood as if he meant very little for you. Painful as it was, it had to be done. Yet, it did not stop you from smiling with relief. 

“Here you are, getting away from death once again” you heard Clara say, as you found her looking at you with a smug expression, “Wait!” She paused, her smile disappearing, “ If I shot you…” she said, pointing at you, “…then…why aren’t you bleeding?”

Standing up slowly, you pulled up your t-shirt, revealing the black bulletproof vest, with the bullet still intact. Mouth slightly parted, Clara certainly appeared surprised. Upon seeing her reaction, you were certainly relieved to have listened to Alfred Pennyworth’s careful instructions earlier. You were relieved you actually listened.

“Loyalty has its perks, you were right” You said with a smile. You sensed Bruce looking at you, pleased. And if Alfred was there, he would not hesitate to offer a prideful nod.

Clara chuckled, before walking towards the now-groaning Emilio. And truthfully, you did not mind.Bad blood was never a necessity between the two of you. Regardless of all that happened, regardless of her attempts to wipe your existence off the face of the earth, your eyes could never put in a pair angry glasses when it came to Clara. Hurt you were, truly. But never wrath. And you were relieved. For you could empathize, for you respected her for who she truly was: a woman who took her job very seriously. Picking Emilio up, she looked over to you: “Everything aside…” she began, “I meant what I said...” she said, “...it has been an honor knowing you. But...it’s up to you to believe me” she added whilst shrugging. All you could do was to nod. For it seemed the most appropriate. And with a sudden cloud of smoke bursting before you, she and Emilio disappeared.

“Bruce!” You breathed worriedly, dashing towards Batman helping him slowly get back up. For finally, you were free to feel relieved for him. Breathing deeply, he looked you straight in the eyes through his cowl: “Are-Are you oka-”

He was cut off, as you decided to kiss him with utmost passion.

This kiss, it encompassed relief. Relief to find him alive and out of death’s reach. It encompassed of your guilt, of your inability to assist him sooner. And by his enthusiasm kissing you back, a rush of excitement coursed through you. Especially when you came to the realization you not just kissing Bruce Wayne, you were also kissing Batman. And that was not a common occurrence. Shrieking Police sirens from downstairs pulled both of you away. Given the sounds coming from inside the building, you knew there would be police company.

“Go...” You said to him, “...it’s okay” “You sure?” He inquired deeply, to which You nodded. “Absolutely...I can handle it” And you certainly were confident about it.

The roar of thunder surprised you, signaling the hasty arrival of cold showers, descending from the dark clouds that now had completely taken over the skies. Looking up, you smiled as the continuous drops refreshed your face.

“Well, whaddaya know?” you began, as you turned to look back at him “…it’s-” Only to find he had disappeared, “….raining”.

Amused once again by his signature move, You smiled to yourself, “So cool…” you muttered, looking over your shoulder the moment the rooftop door suddenly flew open, as a group of policemen finally swarmed out with John Blake’s familiar face leading them.

Though the clear skies were serene, the clouds truthfully seemed to have actually brought rains of hope in disguise. For finally, all was well for you. With an non washable smile on your face, you indulged in the rain for as long as adulthood permitted you to.

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

Gotham city, yet again declared its intention to never rest, and the Gotham Police was clear proof. But as you sat across John Blake’s desk, you were certain of the fact at least your heart could rest easy tonight. And you were grateful.

“Thanks for this by the way…” you said, gently pulling the neckline of the gray hoodie you had on. The rains of hope were refreshing, yet you were drenched by the end. Thus, the gray hoodie that was lent to you was a life savor.

“Oh, Officer Langdon had a spare one so..”

Blake replied casually, before looking over at Nina Langdon. You also looked over at her with surprise. Working on her police reports with diligence, she was the epitome of bad-assery in your eyes.

“You’re welcome” eyes meeting yours, Nina said coolly with a smile. Relieved, an inaudible “Thank You” escaped your lips as your head slightly bowed involuntarily. Nodding back, her eyes quickly move towards Blake’s, her smile growing larger. And you were immediately reminded of the visit from last time.

“I know…” You began softly, forcing Blake to look back at you, “…it’s not my place but…” you added, as he leaned forward with concern “I’ve been tracking some serious sparks between the two of you since my first time here…” you stated. And to your relief, Blake chuckled, making John chuckle, “…please tell me something’s going on-”

“Oh yeah there is…” John said, “…for sure” He confirmed with a nod.

“AHA!” You snapped your fingers victoriously, “So I DO have the sense. Thank goodness” you laughed alongside him. As the laughter subsided, you took a deep breath: “You were the real hero today, Officer…” you uttered, crossing your legs, “…I mean, if it weren’t for the recording…” you breathed in,  “…it would have been one hell of a bloody evening…”

“Yeah…but …" he began, “I don’t know if I can use this against Henderson” a downcast expression clouded his face. Your eyebrows furrowed as you suppressed a sudden yawn.

“What do you mean?”

“You kidding right? An Officer recording a conversation through eavesdropping?” His eyes questioned your sanity, “ Wouldn’t exactly go well with our case…”

“Oh yeah…” a trace of enthusiasm left your system as you nodded. How naive you were to even assume this would be child’s play, “…and I bet the CCTV cameras had something to catch” you muttered, slowly coming to the disappointing realization. You may have escaped death. But the root of all danger, the man with the power and the riches, would be left unaffected. As if nothing significant occurred.

“I’m sorry this was a dead end,Ma’am” Blake said sadly. The vibration of your phone urged you to look down, seeing the text brought a smile. A comforting smile. “Not entirely” you replied, looking back at him, “I mean, We know who planned it all, right?And the assassin will have no business with me anymore..so…” you paused, “…not all hope is lost” Smiling warmly, you slowly got up, “You saved many lives today, that counts. Thank you...for everything, Officer Blake”

Officer Langdon stood next to Blake, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. Looking at her hand, he turned back to you with a smile full of content. Fortunate you were truly to be arrested by him that fateful evening. Fortunate you were to have him believe in you. You were truly fortunate.

Standing by the entrance of the precinct, you breathed in deep. A smile was inevitable the moment your eyes caught the sight before you. Dressed in a fine suit as always, Bruce Wayne leaned against his Black Lamborghini as he waited for you late at night. With the streets almost empty at that hour, you were truthfully quite relieved to find him there. And admittedly, the sight of him instantly grabbed you by the hand, leading you to the very first morning when he showed up this way.

“You clean up pretty good, Mr. Wayne” You jested, slowly walking towards him. He smiled: “Part of the job, I guess” he responded which drove you to a chuckle, “Let’s go home”

A faint camera shutter sound intruded your ears, capturing your attention. Looking to your left, you spotted a young, scrawny looking man shyly scurrying away with a camera phone in hand. What photo did he take? A part of you longed to know, however the other greater part did not seem to care, for you truly were not in the shape to mind at all.

Getting in to the vehicle, memories that still seemed fresh revisited you. That first conversation, getting your hand treated, accidentally having your poor heart stirred. Leaning against the passenger seat, a luxurious sense of comfort brought out another yawn from you.

“I gotta say…” Bruce began, starting the engine, “The vest, I really did not see that coming”

“Hmmmm” you hummed, occupied in the comfort with your eyes closed. “But really, that was very clever of Alfr-”

His words were faint, growing even softer. For you were a willing victim to the exhaustion , which was effortlessly brought out by the comfort of an expensive leather car seat.

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

Erik Henderson was impatient, and it certainly showed. With his silk robes moving around, he paced from one corner of his bedroom to the other with speed. For along with impatience came disappointment.

“Is the girl here yet?? Where the fuck are they?”

He snarled loudly, when he sat on one of armchair. As for the Bruiser, he was promised the deed would be done tonight, with the result presented tomorrow morning. But until then, it did not hurt for him to engage in some early celebrations. Preferably with the company of his usual lineup of high end call girls. However, they were late.

Along with his ill temper and lack of appreciation to his wife, infidelity was high on the list. And tonight, his body was ready with much enthusiasm. He was ready to feel like a man. Ready to indulge in the sight of the women pleasure one another, only to pleasure him soon after. Still, they were late.

“Apologies! Mr. Henderson”

His eyes to shot up by the sound of a brunette woman. She stood by entrance of his room wearing a trench and beige heels, her full lips and big eyes growing distinctive as she began to walk towards him. Henderson raised his eyebrows:

“Wait a minute!” He said, as she approached him, “You’re not the girl I asked for ...” he said, rising from the chair angrily, “Why aren’t you answering me, you bitc-ARGH!”

Henderson cried out loud, when he realized the woman grabbed him by the arm, only to twist it effortlessly, switching to grip his neck tightly before she stabbed his stomach with a small knife. With his defenses weakened and knife still in stomach, he was lowered back to his chair. However, her hand did not leave his neck.

“Wh-” Henderson began breathlessly, “Who the fuck are you?” He inquired.

“Perhaps this...might jog your memory” the woman said, as she proceeded to wear a black mask, that shaped like a skull. Eyes widened, Henderson just could not fathom what he just witnessed.

“Alpha!?” He breathed. “Indeed, I am…” Clara  replied, now in that familiar robotic voice. “You’re…” he stuttered, “…you’re a wo-”

“Ugh!” She shook her head,“Save me the sexist bullshit” she added annoyingly, whilst taking off the mask,“Looks like you were never gonna pay for our services, huh?” She inquired, “And I bet ...” she said, her free hand going through his chair while the knife was still intact, “….you have an alarm for the police to show up, hmmm?” She raised her eyebrows, finally discovering his mobile phone, “Heh! Just what I thought...” She remarked with a chuckle. So the Bruiser was right all along.

Speechless and injured, Henderson only could hyperventilate weakly. Clara smiled at him coldly. Funny how the tables have been turned. Funny how the man once was powerful now reeked of sheer desperation.

“I knew You’ve always been bad, Mr.Henderson” she began, “…but THIS? This disrespect? is just unforgivable. So…here’s what we’re gonna do…” She added, menace evident in her tone while she twisted the knife harder into his stomach, that sent him screaming, “You and I…we are gonna take a little trip… out of Gotham”

Fear translated in to Henderson’s quivering lips, “For-For h-how long?”

“Oh….” Ready to show her true colors, Clara Bennett flashed an evil grin, “…indefinitely”

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

The blue hour greeted your fluttering eyes gently the next morning. Stretching lazily, you felt your presence on a bed. It seemed the car seat was full of comfort it sent you to the deepest slumber. The blue hour appeared more graceful at the Wayne Penthouse. It was indeed quite the beauty. But the beauty was intensified the moment your eyes glimpsed upon the man laying beside you.The man who gazed long enough for you to smile shyly. 

“I dozed off last night huh?” You inquired, your tone rife with sleepiness.

He nodded gently. Pressing your face against the pillow, embarrassment took control. The thought of Bruce Wayne carrying your sleeping figure all the way to bed was more than you could imagine. What if you snored? What if you drooled? Oh! The horror!

“I’m sorry...” you mumbled, looking at him. However, he shook his head.

“Don’t need to...” he replied, his breathy tone sending shivers down your spine. You raised your eyebrows: “Shouldn’t you should be sleeping?” you inquired playfully, whilst laying on your side.

“Don’t want to...” He said, moving closer to you.

His tone may have been gentle, yet it did not mean he was not confident about it. And the moment you felt his lips press against yours, that confidence suddenly had more reason. Kissing him back, you indulged it as you would indulge your morning coffee. Even better. His kiss at dawn was a gentle fire, that was lit to spread warmth around a once cold and lifeless room, to give it the life it once had. His kiss was also a reminder of what you needed. A need that was urgent. Pulling away gently, you glanced upon the surprised expression in his face. You could empathize why, and you were surely were not planning to disappoint.

Maintaining his gaze, you dipped your hands under the white sheets, stripping yourself off your sweatpants and underwear as fast as you could. He was certainly fascinated as you tossed the sheet aside, only to slowly straddle him, wearing nothing but the gray hoodie. A faint gasp left you when your naked mound made subtle contact with his shorts. It caused friction. More importantly, it caused sheer arousal that stimulated the entirety of your senses. Seeing him so calm beneath you, it certainly was a pleasurable sight. Balancing yourself over the mattress with one hand, you were surprised at how you managed to pull down his shorts with ease, receiving his full cooperation to remove it completely. You were calm, yet daring this morning.

The sight of Bruce draw in his shaky breath as you slowly sank into his abundantly erect manhood caused weakness in your knees. However, you had to be strong. Your damp opening welcomed him whole, as you finally sat with comfort. Finally becoming one, you stretched yourself, pulling your hoodie off, leaving you completely bare. With your hands resting on his bare chest, you permitted the gentle blue morning filter wash over you when you began to roll your hips in slow rhythm. For you were a lazy rider, mounted on a horse who took you home with relaxation. For you were both relaxed, for you were both calm. This morning, it need not be a passionate race that needed a speedy finish. It was merely just two lovers on a slow journey, intimate and brimming with emotion.

Amidst the breathy moans exchanged between the two, Your eyes conversed with his. You told him how indebted you were to him in every way. You stressed how you wished every second with him was longer than the others. You apologized for every single moment you hurt him without your knowledge. He acknowledged them all, surprising you as he sat up in a flash. Wrapping his arms around your waist, his fingers explored your bare back, feeling its curves before he proceeded to envelope his lips in yours in a slow, yet passion inducing kiss. He kissed you with a mission. As if he longed to fulfill your wish, as if he was on a fierce attempt to slow down time. The manner his tongue embraced your own, certainly was a display of how this pleasure was to be indulged in the slowest, possible manner.

And it certainly meant taking one’s sweet time.

Distracted with his kisses, you were even unaware of his right hand roaming over to cup your left breast. In the midst of the morning chill, he warmed it with his generous palm, his thumb gently running over the now erect bud. The fact he savored this act slow, roused you even further. Shivering moans exited your lips the moment his delicious mouth replaced his thumb, latching on to it. The manner of which he suckled it, the manner he tasted it with passion, provided a new form of life within you. Kissing his head frantically, you continued to moan. You adored this man, you could not deny it. In fact, you could burst into tears by the thought of it. With his lips now placing gracious kisses around the softness of your breast, sparks of fire began to spread. Your fingers traced over the strangle marks on his neck, causing your lips to quiver with emotion.

Kissing his neck with determination, you hoped you would not inflict more pain upon him ever again. He heard your hopes, as his own lips frantically looked for yours to kiss you once again. Surprise was clearly the main role this morning. Your eyes widened the moment he quickly turned, flipping you back to bed, hovering over you.

Holding on the headboard, Bruce continued to move inside of you, frustratingly slow. His soft breathy moans blessed your ears, while his finger felt your sensitive nub at your opening, providing ample stimulation to throw your head back and feel the headboard behind you. He breathed in your name religiously, urging you to look at him. He spoke to you in hushed tones. He swore to protect you always, no matter what may come his way. He swore with such passion and desperation.

You believed him, with all your heart you longed to. However, you were also realistic. This was all on the brink of passion. For truthfully, Life never was always kind to everyone who walked this earth. Exceptions would always exist, even where he could not show up. And you did not take them to heart. Not one bit. For you knew better. As he buried his face on your neck, adorning it with kisses, that was when you decided, deep in your heart, to make your own promise.

Blinded by passion or not, you swore. Your swore to be at your best, and keep yourself safe. And whatever trouble may announce its arrival, he would never blamed for it. Never ever. For he was no god. He was only a man. And he was yours.

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

Hues of yellow infused with the blue as the sunlight secretly crept into the penthouse. It brought more color. But nothing could replace the magic of the blue hour, and you were grateful to have made great use of it this morning. Sitting on the edge of the bed, you slowly put the pants back on, whilst the gentle yellow light grazed over your naked torso. Bruce’s hand stroked your shoulder blades, surprising you even further when you felt his blessed lips on the lower back. Biting your lip shyly, you proceeded to dress yourself with the gray hoodie once more. But in fact, butterflies still managed to flutter within you. If only words existed for you to describe the effect this man had on you, they would be used fervently. But since there were none, you knew you would fail to do him justice. The value you held for him was beyond all measure. And that was why you were reminded of what you longed to tell him before:

“Bruce?”

“Hmmm?”

Lazy hums escaped Bruce when you turned to his reclined figure in bed. Sitting crossed legged, nervousness washed all over. You wished for a distraction. You wished to remain in his arms a bit longer. But this was mandatory, thus a deep breath was a necessity:

“I got a job offer...from Hudson’s”

You said. Surprised, Bruce slowly sat up.

“The HR company?”

To which you nodded slowly, “Yeah…And I think…” you paused, “I think I’m gonna take it”

You watched him slowly process the information he just received. It was evident with his concerned expression. “You’re… leaving Wayne Enterprises?”

He breathed in inquiry. You froze. For that sentence simply forced your heart to clench tightly. And the fact those words exited his lips in an innocent manner, made it truly worse. Nostalgia hit you violently in the head. After an entire decade of devoting one’s life to this company, it would seem unthinkable. Yet, decisions such as these were not for the faint hearted. And you certainly were not one. 

“Yes I am…” you admitted, “But not right away…” you quickly added, moving closer to him, “…I still have a lot to do, like cover for Lillian during her leave, and If I am leaving, I’m gonna have to train whoever will be taking my place…I just…” you paused, “I just wanted to let you know…before I accept it”

Your clenched heart remained so, as silence filled the room. His doe-eyed expression was clear as day, taking in the news: “So…” he began, staring at you, “…It’s finally happening, huh?” He muttered.

Exhaling deep, you smiled softly: “I’ve been holding onto this company for so long cause of loyalty...that I didn’t even think of my own career…” you said, “But…after I met you, everything is starting to make sense, everything I need to do is coming to me” you continued, “So, If I leave… I can finally do what I’m really good at”

There was no mirror, yet you could feel your own eyes sparkle with excitement by the mere thought of it. You could imagine it already, walking over to Lucius Fox, handing in your notice of resignation. And you could certainly imagine his response as he would smile with a nod: “I understand” He would say, with a silent exchange of understanding for it was clear you were doing the right thing. You could imagine it all. Blinking that future away, you looked at Bruce:

“And if I leave…” you said, “I don’t have to question my liberties anymore, especially when I think about us...” you paused, breathing deeply, “If that’s what you really want. Cause…” you added as you bravely cupped his face, “…that’s what I want”

When silence overpowered the atmosphere, you grew concerned. But before you could make your way down that path, Bruce expressed his opinion by leaning forward with a loving kiss. A loving kiss that encompassed everything: His acknowledgement, his excitement, and even a taste of sadness.

“Well...” he breathed into your lips, “As much as I’m going to miss seeing you at office-” You chuckled, “You rarely get to see me unless you come by-” Chuckling back, he nodded, “Point made”. Concerned, you looked directly at him. “You upset?” You inquired, to which he immediately shook his head. “Actually…” he smiled, “I’m proud of you. The way you truly want to go far for what you really need, you inspire me. You give me hope” he added, “And yes! I do want this” holding both of your hands, he stressed, “So it’s definitely worth it” You gulped, as you realized that your heart had more to reveal that expected. Especially when you saw him show this much of enthusiasm. With a heartbeat strong enough to penetrate through your entire being, you began: “Bruce…” you paused, “That day when you bailed me out, I got a Life Sentence”

Suddenly, that smile of his disappeared with concern. To which you could only smile wider with amusement.

“I got a Life Sentence, because you stole my heart” you added, “And that’s a Sentence I was willing to take on. That’s a Sentence I could never get over.” You said, “I know, there will be a day…where you and I can walk hand in hand in public, with nothing to fear. We won’t have to worry about our reputation or our safety. I know that day will come soon” you continued, hope filled in your tone, “ But until then, I’m willing to do anything. I’m willing to be quiet, I’m willing to pretend, I’m willing to let the whole world believe I’m minding my own business, when I’m actually happily minding my own business…with you” holding his hands tightly, you spoke with adoration, “Cause given the current circumstances, I am not gonna give a shit about what everyone is gonna think, or about showing off. I just wanna be happy. And being by your side is one important factor of it. That’s it…” you took a deeper breath, “I love you, Bruce” you spoke in an emotional tone, “And the more time passes,  I think I find it harder to deny that…”

Letting it all out, never did anything feel this taxing on you. Especially as you kept looking into his beautiful eyes that were a journey in itself to embark on.

“I wish you know…” Bruce began, “…how it frightens me to make promises” he said softly. The pain in his voice was evident. The pain he seemingly had held in all these years. You nodded fast.

“I know, i know…” you admitted in honesty, “Being in your…position, I don’t blame you.  Not one bit. You don’t have to say anything, Bruce” you said for you truly meant it.

“But…” he began, holding your hands once more, “You will know in time...you will know how much I love you. Cause I do”

Jaw dropped, suddenly your clenched heart loosened up completely. His face formed a puzzled expression. “What?” “You just said it...” You said, chuckling when he finally came to the realization of what he just admitted. Euphoria, rushed though you as you covered your mouth with emotion. For ever since the day you fell for him, those words were what you always dreamed of hearing.

“Wow! You love me...” you voice broke, as tears formed within you, “…you do love m-” mumbled last words did not seem to matter when Bruce pulled you in for another gentle kiss. He loved you. Bruce Wayne he loved you. Unfathomable yet real. Immersed in his arms in an embrace, you rubbed his back with love.

“Don’t worry…” you assured, “I know what I’m getting into. And I’ll be here…” you paused, “…for a while. Okay…maybe even longer than that” you jested, as he began to laugh out loud. The sight of his laughter was what you cherished. And what you hoped to provide for him as long as you could.

You fixed your hair hurried upon seeing Alfred Pennyworth enter the room with morning tea. The fact he found you in bed with Bruce made you embarrassed.

“Sorry Alfred...” you muttered shyly. Alfred however, never looked this pleased. “Never apologize for putting a smile on Master Wayne’s face, Miss” He said, as he placed the tray on the bedside cupboard “And mine...”

A trickle of warmth engulfed your heart, to the point you felt your nose itch with the urge to cry once again. Scrunching up your nose, you smiled. Blessed it was truly to be this loved.

“Apparently,Henderson is missing”

“WHAT?” You and Bruce both inquired, looking at Alfred.

“That’s what it says in the papers” He responded, waving the newspaper in his hand.

Was it Clara’s doing? Was it her way of acquiring revenge? You could not help but wonder as Alfred began to read the mentioned article to Bruce. And then again, how ironic. Erik Henderson strongly wished for you to disappear, yet ended up disappearing himself.

The bedside cupboard beside you vibrated. Taking the phone, you found a text from Allison:

lol…did you see this? 

Below the text was a link attached. A link that directed you to an article at a familiar website: wheresdabat.com

Your eyes widened by the sight of the photo that was above the article. A photo that showed you standing outside the Police Station with Bruce from last night. The article was written as the following:

Just when we were filled with hope of a possible spark between Batman and the Bruiser, we run into another hurdle. For here we can see the Bruiser’s employer, Billionaire Socialite Bruce Wayne arrived to her legal rescue once again last night. What could it be? A Love Triangle perhaps? Or are we just kidding ourselves completely??

Amused laughter erupted from your throat, causing Bruce and Alfred to look at you.

“Everything okay?” Bruce inquired.

“Yeah, its just...” you smiled, “It looks like the name Bruiser is gonna stick around for a while” you said, showing them the website article.

“Well…” Bruce began, “… it does have a ring to it” he added with a smile. 

“You know what?” You looked at them, “ I like it” You chuckled, “ I used to hate that name, so so much. But not anymore. Guess it’s my own alias now.” you said jokingly.

It was evident it would be a scar you would have to wear for a while. But in truth, it was a scar you would gladly wear. For that scar, it bailed you out, it brought you the liberation you desired, and it led you to love. Thus, you were not remorseful at all. No wonder you like it so.

Excitement bubbling within you in great speed, you began to form a text reply to your friend:

Fuck!

You sent in an instant.

FUCK!!!

It certainly did not take long for Allison to respond:


Oh no ...what is it, Sweetie? I’m sorry but I thought it was just hilarious...

Chuckling, you texted back:

No it’s not that. Ali, I think...

Over excitement led to accidentally hitting ‘send’ before you could finish typing.

What ? What is it? You’re freaking me out here…

Smiling upon seeing Allison’s reply, you looked up. Never did you imagine the sight of Bruce and Alfred causally having their morning tea would bring you such joy. With your smile still intact, you replied with the most happiness and the utmost confidence: 


I think it’s officially official with me and Bruce Wayne!!!


——————THE END—————————

Another Author’s Note: Thank You for all you lovely people who decided to join me in this journey on Bail Out! When I took a break and started planning this story, I never thought I would receive this much love. Truthfully this is one of the favorites I have written and with the most effort and hard work. So your love meant so so much! My heart is literally heavy now. You are all awesome! Love you all! Keep being awesome!

Tagged: @tealaquinn​ @ladyerina​ @kittenlittle24 @wholesumm @everyday-imfangirling​ @lucy-roo​ @works-of-fanfiction​ @bale-is-a-babe @badsext​  @maddistyles17 @truly-insatiable @gooseyhouse​ @artsymaddie​ @quarterback-5 @mamooska8 @strangerliaa​ @jensen-impala​ @lilyofthesword​ @woodencupcake​ @fonduebitches @soullesstaco​ @spicybellinger​ @marvel-lously​ @glitterypinkkitty​ @danceyreagan​​ @barikawho​​ @lostgirl0020​ @diogodxlot​​ @elena-mayfair​​ @xxdearlybeloved​​ @shewearsprada​​

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Tag-along sister

“Embry request where reader is Bella's sister, she hangs out with Jake when Bella does too and she meets Embry. Take your wonderful creativity and run with it :)”

Embry Call x Reader

Jacob Black was a smitten fool. Witnessing blushing smiles, lengthy black hair pushed behind his ear, and longing glances aimed towards Bella was your new normal. Joking around was normal between friends, but it appeared as if Jake had to make everything a playful jab towards your older sister. Bella enjoyed the constant attention because it preoccupied her mind enough to not only dwell on Edward. You knew that and that’s why you always agreed to go with her when she asked you to join.

Bella wasn’t dumb, she knew that Jacob liked her and it made her nervous. She was not over her last relationship and jumping into a new one wasn’t bright. You were the key part in halting Jacob’s “attempts” but he really didn’t even care that you were there. You and Jake were the same age and he viewed you more as a best friend that he could be comfortable around.

The duo fixed bikes and chatted about life during hangout sessions. At first you sat on a work Ben h with snacks and joined in, but now you were too busy fooling around with Embry. The first time Embry came you admired the tall and naturally beautiful human before you. Not only was he gorgeous, but he was so sweet that it could give you a cavity. Slowly but surely Embry and Quil started joining when they knew you would be there.

Oil ran down Embry’s tan arms as he fixed the breaks on Bella’s bike. You intentionally tried to look away but your eyes drifted to watch the black liquid make its way down his wrist and onto his forearm, twisting like art over his veins. He was the prettiest creation you had ever laid your eyes upon.

A nudge to your elbow caused you to snap your eyes to Bella who was giving you a shit eating grin. She was well aware about your on growing crush on Jake’s friend and she more than encouraged it. You glared at her and shook your head ‘no’ to tell her that it wasn’t happening.

Embry Call was a god among humans; his radiant smile made your knees weak and you swore that very smile could melt the ice in Antarctica. In your eyes he was equal to the Greek god Apollo and you were a pitiful demigod from a random god like Hermès. Embry talked to you a lot but come on, he was nice to everyone.

You were glad to be his friend; truly.

That didn’t mean you didn’t daydream about what it would be like to hangout alone. Dinner, maybe watching the sunset on the beach sometime. His favorite snack was the plain goldfish and you would be sure to bring a bag of them because that boy loves his snacks. You just wanted to be his person. The one who he told deep shit to at one in the morning during a sporadic coffee run. The one who he vented to when he is fed up with school. The one who he looked forward to seeing.

“Holy cow, it’s not supposed to rain for once tonight. I say we have a fire or something... enjoy the evening ya know?” Jake said, glancing at the weather section of the newspaper that his dad bought earlier that day. They used newspaper to lay on while working on the bikes to avoid getting dirty, although that never worked.

Bella shifted her look away from you and glanced at the paper on the ground, “I would be down. How ‘bout you Y/N?”

Embry paused what he was doing and gazed at you. His brown eyes meant yours and your heart did a backflip, “Sure, I’m game.”

Embry’s lips quirked into his soft small smile that showcased his adorable dimples at your response. His eyes held pure joy as he turned and wiped his hands on a rag.

“Emby, I thought Quil would be here by now.” Jake asked yet stated at the same time.

“Quil can’t do anything. It’s old Quil’s birthday and they are doing family stuff. I already tried to get him to come earlier dude.” Embry explained, you got lost in how smooth his voice was. It was just so nice to hear.

“It’s us four then.” You said, smiling at Embry’s cute expression while he worked the oil off of his skin.

“Yupp.” Jake replied with his usual lopsided grin directed towards your older sister.

Bella bit her lip in deep thought for a second, “Jake and I can go get s’more stuff if you and Embry can get some wood together.”

Your eyes widened at her suggestion and were about to protest but Embry was nodding his head, “Yeah, we can handle that. Right, bean?”

You meekly nodded, “Yeah. We got it.”

You were flustered by his nickname for you. One time you said human bean instead of human being and it made Embry laugh until he cried. Since then he called you bean in an affectionate way. Nonetheless it made you blush because your crush having a special nickname for you made you feel.. well, special.

“There’s the enthusiasm I like to see!” Embry cheered.

Two months later you turned down the aisle to see one other person in it, Embry Call. The boy who you really liked.. the same boy who neglected you all for no reason. Your heart filled with excitement but dread. You missed him dearly but you were really hurt and confused as to why he dropped your friendship like it was nothing. You noticed that his hair was short and it showed off his sharp jawline more.

His brown eyes met yours and his lips parted in amazement. He slowly sunk down to his knees, hands going to his thighs to ground him that this was real. You grew worried when he didn’t speak. You bent down to his level.

“Hey, are you okay?”

“You.” He breathed out.

You snorted, “Don’t even remember my name? Glad our friendship meant so much.” You muttered, moving away.

His hand flew out and grasped your arm as he stumbled to stand up, “Bean, of course I remember your name! Don’t go.” He pleaded.

“Why shouldn’t I? You left us so easily.”

His brown eyes held sorrow as he released your arm, “Look I have so much to explain and I promise that I will. I truly am sorry and soon you will understand. Give me a chance?”

You bit the inside of your cheek in deep though. He was a dick for ditching you but he seemed upset and he did promise that he would explain it all. Plus the intense way he was looking at you in the store made you want to forgive him now.

“Meet me at the beach tonight. Same spot we had the fire.”

He nodded. As you walked away you heard him mutter, “I knew it would be my sweet little bean.”

[intu-witch-tion]

You’re An Asshole, Javier Peña.  {Javier Peña x Female Reader} Ch. 4

Summary: You decide to get back at Javier by accepting Garcia’s invitation to go dancing. Javier has no intention of leaving you to Garcia’s devices.

Word Count: 2.7k (this one is a bit short, but don’t worry. Pacho’s party will likely be much longer!)

Warnings: fluff, angst, soft!Javier confesses some heartfelt feels, making out in the car, general feel-good things, no smut (sorry, frands.)

 You made your way into the station the following morning, doing your best to hold your head high. You refused to allow Javier to see just how deeply he had managed to hurt you the night before. You sat down to your desk, making quick work of several reports, carrying on as you usually would. Javier sat quietly at his desk, glancing up at you every so often. The air was heavy, pregnant with discomfort. Finally, a little before lunch, Murphy broke the silence. “What’s up with you two?” You shoot him a look, surprised at the sudden inquiry. Javier lit a cigarette, despite having just finished one. It was simply something to busy his hands. In typical Javier style, he said nothing. You sighed deeply, pinching the bridge of your nose between your thumb and index finger. “Everything is fine, Murphy. Thank you.” You stood, pressing your lips together and taking your leave from the somber pair and heading to the break room.

When you were gone, Murphy gave Peña a reprimanding look. “I don’t know what you’ve done but—” Javier crushed the cigarette into the ashtray with an unnecessary aggression. “What makes you think it’s my fault?” He retorted impatiently. Steve scoffed in response. “Fix it, Peña. I’m not going to be stuck in this desk clump with the two of you dancing on eggshells. You’re both already prone to unpleasantness as it is. I don’t know which is worse.” Javier gritted his teeth, rubbing his chin with his thumb in pensive thought for a moment before getting up and following you into the break room.

Javier walked in to see you standing at the snack machine, lost in thought as you looked over the same tired selection. A group of detectives sat at a table, laughing boisterously. Javier noted Garcia at the center of the assembly and rolled his eyes as he made his way to the coffee pot. You finally selected a suitable snack, despite not being hungry at all, bending down to grab it from the slot when Garcia’s voice chimed over to you. “Y/N! We are going out dancing tonight. You should join us.” You turned to look at him as he spoke to you and you would generally decline such an offer. But you could see Javier’s shoulders tense as his back was turned to you, pouring the coffee into a disposable cup. This was your opportunity. “I’d love to.” You replied with resounding approval, ensuring your voice was dripping with enthusiasm.

Javier slammed the coffee pot down, making such a clamor everyone turned back to look at him. A shit-eating grin crept over your face and disappeared as Javier turned around and left the break room. Garcia looked shocked at your acceptance of his invitation and he smiled. “Excellent. We are meeting at the Flamenco Morado at 8pm.” You nodded. “I’ll see you then.” You made your way back to your desk.

The rest of the day carried on without much excitement. Javier maintained his silence and so did you. Murphy did his best to stay away and busy himself elsewhere to avoid the discomfort. You had half-expected Javier to remark on your upcoming evening festivities, but 4pm rolled around and he left without a word. When your work day came to a close, you realized he was not planning to return. You gathered your things and left to go home.

You climbed out of the cab, wearing a slinky leopard print dress. It was a little past 8pm. You had lingered in your living room for a good 20 minutes debating on whether to go at all. But as you sat on your couch, reminded of the night before, you figured you could use a drink outside of the loneliness of your empty apartment.

You sighed heavily, looking up at the purple fluorescent sign of the Flamenco Morado before flashing your ID at the door man and walking inside. You made your way down a narrow flight of stairs to find a flashy dance floor, scattered bar top tables and a fully stocked bar. Garcia waved at you from the bar’s edge, smiling wide. You forced a happy face and made your way to him. “I’m so glad you came!” He exclaimed, trying to speak over the music but not wanting to seem like he was yelling. You nodded and touched his arm politely, giving it a gentle squeeze. Garcia was a good man, there was no denying it. Argument could be made he was a better for you than someone like Javier. He had always been kind and thoughtful, though sometimes a bit generous with his compliments, quite the contrast from the zero compliments Javier was prone to give—at least in public.

You pushed Javier from your mind, determined to enjoy yourself. You leaned over the bar to flag the bartender down. Garcia placed his hand on your back and called into your ear, so he didn’t have to yell so loudly. “I have ordered you a drink already. I hope you don’t mind.”  In truth, you were relieved that a drink would meet your lips that much sooner. “Thank you, Garcia.” You replied graciously. “Please. Call me Miguel.” His fingers trailed down your back and your breath caught in your throat as your mind traveled to thoughts of Javier once again.

Miguel handed you a rum and coke and you took a sip of it, the ice wetting your upper lip. “Do you want to dance?” Miguel asked you unexpectedly and you pulled the drink from your mouth with an unsure look in response. You shook your head with a chuckle. You weren’t feeling all that outgoing. It was a miracle you had agreed to come at all. You took another sip from your drink, your eyes scanning the room and over to the narrow staircase. Javier. Your eyes widened. Why was he here? You watched him for a moment as he was lost in thought, his brown eyes scanning over the ocean of dancers on the dance floor. He was wearing that dark red shirt you loved so much and a grey sport coat that accentuated the defined slope of his shoulders. His dark washed jeans hugged him perfectly. You gritted your teeth as you mooned over him, in spite of yourself. His eyes met yours in the briefest of moments and you turned away quickly, bringing the bottom of your glass up and finishing it in earnest. You touched Miguel’s arm. “Actually—yes. Let’s dance.” He smiled from ear to ear as you pulled him onto the dance floor.

You knew Javier was watching as you danced with Miguel. And you also knew it would piss him off. But what other reason did he have to be here except to keep tabs on you. Garcia wasn’t the best dancer. He was stiff and a bit awkward, albeit eager. His hands raced over your body in such a way you could not quite tell if he was caressing you or lost in what to do with them at all. To your relief, the song ended, and Miguel beamed as he raised up his empty glass. “I’m going to get a refill. You want anything?” You shook your head and he went back to the bar, leaving you on the dance floor.

You swayed back and forth as the next song began to play. You so badly wanted to turn around and find Javier in the crowd, but you kept your back to the bar. A couple minutes passed, and you were lost in the song that played overhead only to find yourself startled by a pair of hands on your waist. But these were not the clumsy hands of agent Garcia you had just been so intensely introduced to. No, these hands were much more familiar still. You closed your eyes and struggled to inhale. You felt Javier’s hot breath on the nape of your neck as his hands lifted your arms in a fluid motion, caressing the tender flesh underneath. His hips pressed against you from behind, his movement wrapping around you like silk. The thought to pull away from him compelled you, his touch now reminding you of the absence of it these past 24 hours. But you continued dancing, feeling him pulse against you in a rhythmic flow. You would have found it curious just how well he could dance, but you had seen his hips move in bed and so it came as no surprise how natural of a mover he was.

Garcia slowly approached as the song faded. “Peña.” He was less than amused to find him dancing with you so closely. Javier ignored him as you turned to look at him, your face flushed, a cold expression hardening your features. “Can we please go somewhere to talk?” Javier asked you, his voice sounding a bit defeated. You looked down at your feet and shook your head. “There’s nothing to say.” A moment’s pause filled the air as the three of you stood on the dance floor, unmoving. You looked over at Miguel before turning on your heels to leave the club. Garcia threw his hands in the air in a confused motion. Javier wasted no time in chasing after you.

“Y/N—please!” He called after you as your black wedge heels clicked up the concrete stairs and out the door, scaling up the winding sidewalk. Javier yelled your name again, this time more forceful as he implored you to stop. You turned to him with a frown. “Do you not think it a little dysfunctional how often you chase me down the street? Though I am sure I am not the first woman to run away from you and I doubt I’ll be the last.” You continued your determined pace.

“But I want you to be.” His tone deep as his words reverberated in an echo to your ears. You stopped dead in your tracks and turned to look at him. He took a couple of slow steps closer to you. “Y/N. I’ve told you before I am no good at relationships. But…” He was lost in thought for a moment, trying to decide on his next choice of words. “But I would chase you to the ends of the earth if it meant I could keep you for myself.” You blinked at him, dumbfounded and unsure of what to say. He stood close to you now, reaching out to touch you and pulling away as you reclused from the gesture. You cleared your throat and choked back tears. He continued. “I can’t promise you I’ll be perfect. I’m…inconsiderate. Closed off. And as you remind me so often—an asshole.” You pursed your lips into a thin line, your eyes welling up. You looked down in an effort to hide your face from him, but he touched your chin and pulled back your gaze. “You make me want to be a better man.” His voice was low and insistent.

A single tear rolled down your cheek and he wiped it away. You looked deep into his eyes, getting lost in the rich, brown hue, his pupils dilated as they strained to focus on your face in the dim light of the Columbian street. “I can’t keep playing this game with you, Javier.” You finally contribute, fidgeting with your hands anxiously. It was silent between the two of you for what felt like an eternity, neither of you knowing what to say next. He suddenly grabbed your hand, lacing your fingers together and squeezing firmly. “No games, querida. Just give me another chance.” You bit your bottom lip, contemplating his proposition.

You weren’t entirely sure what he was asking of you as he had yet to define what his intentions were. “I need to call a cab.” You absent-mindedly announced. “Let me take you home.” He offered, his voice low and soft. You looked up at him and gave a curt nod in response. Your fingers still interlocked, he pulled you gently in the opposite direction toward his truck.

When you were sitting in the vehicle, he turned to you, his hand on your knee. “Will you come home with me?” He asked you amiably. You gazed over at him, thinking on it, and quickly shaking your head. “No, I don’t think so. I need to be alone tonight. I need to think…about all of this.” He didn’t push the matter, patting your leg a couple times before pulling his hand back to the ignition and starting the car.

The two of you rode together in silence. You stared out the window at the passing streetlamps as you considered everything that had transpired between you. Javier looked over at you every so often, trying to decide what to say, if anything. He pulled into your apartment complex, parking and turning off the car. You inhaled deeply. You wanted him to come in. You wanted him to hold you, to make love to you. But the wound he cut into you last night was still too fresh. And all those things he had said had left you feeling all the more confused.

“Thanks for the ride.” You stated plainly. But you made no effort to get out of the car. There was so much you wanted to say but you were having a hard time formulating the words to eloquently get your point across. Truth be told, you weren’t even sure what your point would be. Javier’s eyes scanned over your face and down to the leopard print dress you wore, licking his lips ever-so-subtly. “Pacho’s party is tomorrow night.” You stated, looking down into your lap. Javier sat upright in the driver’s seat, not prepared to have a conversation about work but grateful that you were talking to him at all. “You can’t go alone.” His words were firm, and you looked up at him, prepared to get defensive but stopping yourself. “It’s a good thing I asked about bringing a date then.” He shot you a look, his brow pinching slightly in question. You threw him a telling smile and he chuckled under his breath with a curt nod.

Javier’s arm stretched over the center console, his hand opening for you. You placed yours in his, the size of his expansive grip dwarfing your own as he gave a tender squeeze. “C’mere.” He beckoned softly for you to lean into him as he pulled on your hand to draw you closer anyways. He kissed you gently and you immediately felt pins and needles in your hands at the sensation of his lips against yours. He progressed the kiss further, his tongue sliding along your bottom lip as you granted him access. Locked in a feverish kiss as if you had not touched in years, you reached your hand to his cheek as his fingers tangled into your hair. The two of you made out like teenagers for a good 10 minutes before you pulled away, your lips swollen from your pursuits.

You considered letting him come in. That kiss had done nothing to quell your thoughts of having his hands all over you. But you were determined to remain steadfast in your decision to spend what was left of the evening thinking over what he had said and what you planned to do about it. You placed a delicate, solitary kiss on his lips and smiled before reaching for the car door. “Good night, Peña.” He gave you a closed-lip smile and a nod. “Hasta mañana, querida.” He was respectful of your decision, not giving it another push.

You closed the car door and made your way up the stairs to your apartment, unlocking the door and stepping inside. Javier watched closely to ensure you made it in safely. As the door closed, he lit a cigarette and inhaled deeply. He sat in the parking lot for another 20 minutes before pulling out and going home.

Chapter 5*

Taglist: @lv7867​ @klaine-92​ @rocketqueen​ @bounty-in-the-eye-of-the-mando (Please DM me if you wish to be added to the taglist!)

[fallout-drabbles-n-stuff]

Romanced companions getting caught under the mistletoe by Sole?☺️

(Because it’s the holidays and stuff and I’m weak, if ya’ll want any oneshots or something of the sort- don’t hesitate to ask me. It can be surrounding this idea or any other idea y’all have, and don’t forget...I LIVE FOR WRITING SMUT) (also, I’m aware some of these might be a little longer than the others but...ya’ll should know by now that I love me some emotionally constipated synth men- looking at Danse and X6-88. Also, I only did the male companions because I got a little lazy so if you want any of the other ones just let me know)

Danse:

He was completely oblivious at first..which come to think of it, may be more surprising than what came shortly after he stepped a couple paces forward. Well, with the whole “boot camp training” thing, he’d like to think he would’ve been more observant of his surroundings than this. Regardless of what his mind would eventually wander off to, his thoughts were completely ripped away from him as a gasp left his mouth, only to be stifled by your soft lips in a chaste- yet enjoyable- kiss.

Instinctively his hands clasped around your hips, all regard for the surrounding audience seeming to slip his mind as he tried his best to deepen the kiss, even going to chase your lips with his own when you went to withdraw. However he lost, resulting in him peering down at you with those gorgeous whisky coloured eyes and his brows knitted in a confused expression.

“Look up, Paladin..” You tittered, hands finding their place upon his surprisingly, armourless shoulders once you realized he wasn’t going to relent his grasp on your hips.

Slowly the realization dawned upon his face when his gaze was met with the tantalizing sway of bright green leaves above his head.

“Oh..”

Deacon:

The whole thing was his idea to begin with...just like decorating HQ was as well. How could you blame him though? It was sort of his job to lighten the mood around the place, so he did. However he needed some help..

“Hey babe, can you come see for a second? I need your opinion on where you think this should go.” He called, disturbing you from your typing on the terminal.

Giving a soft sigh in response, you rose and made haste to come to his aid. Only whenever you got over to him, there in his hand was an all too familiar ball of bright green leaves and white flowers. Before you could ask just what the hell it was he needed with that, he swooped down from his step stool and pressed a playfully soft kiss to your parted lips.

“Thanks!”

Gage:

He didn’t know how long he had been waiting for you underneath the stupid plant..he just knew that unlike him, you seemed to like these festivities, so being the opportunist he was, he was going to reap the benefits of said fact. Luckily what felt like so long to him, came to an end as you sauntered over to him with a soft smile.

Within seconds, he found you in his arms. Such a tender scene compared to what he was used to, but he wasn’t going to complain. Especially not when you happened to look up, your beautiful eyes lighting up with mirth when you realized just why he wanted to lure you to this particular spot.

Rolling your eyes, you took the first step and pushed into your precious raider- gingerly kissing him...only to pul away just as he was getting into it and leave him dumbfounded and quick to chase after you.

Hancock:

It didn’t matter how many onlookers were present. The very moment he saw the ornamental plant, he made it somewhat of a mission to get you under it. Thankfully it didn’t really take you too much convincing, especially when you realized where his enthusiasm was coming from.

With a smile that could light up all of his city, the ghoul man placed an uncharacteristically innocent kiss to your forehead. For whatever reason, that gesture made you blush....and the sea of people in the Third Rail cheer.

Macready:

It had been a rather rough night. Not to be gotten wrong, you definitely prefer nights like these over the cold and unforgiving terrors of adventuring but sometimes Duncan and Shaun could match the stress levels of the wastes perfectly.

Therefore, once your two rowdy children finally settled in, you and your mercenary turned lover wearily bumbled into the kitchen. It had to have been some ungodly hour by this point...

Perhaps that tiredness that came with the hour was the reason you didn’t take notice of the hanging plant in the doorway- but you didn’t miss it for very long. Your blue eyed lover abruptly stopped in the hall, clearing his throat to stop you in your tracks.

Quirking a brow, you turned to face him- following his kind gaze up to the plant hanging above your head.

“Are you kidding?” “Tradition is tradition, (y/n).”

Maxson:

Okay..so maybe it wasn’t fair that you placed it right above his desk..but frankly, you didn’t exactly care if it was or wasn’t. Whatever consequences you may face later couldn’t have matter less whenever you walked into your lover’s room, his coat lazily folded over his arm, and a shocked look on his face.

“Is something wrong Arthur?” You asked, praying to some higher being that your tone didn’t give away your sheer amusement.

Without even turning to completely face you, he held out his outstretched arm and motioned for you to approach. As soon as you were within arms distance, you could see the silly grin on his face just seconds before he pulled you in for a kiss.

“Watch it, Sentinel, otherwise you’re going to be on the naughty list.”

Nick:

As gentlemanly as he was, whenever he realized what was hanging boldly above your heads, he leapt into action like it was instinctive.

The press of his cold lips against your own drew a Yelp from you, to which you flushed in embarrassment. Luckily it was quick enough for you to try to spew your questions..only to laugh when he simply pointed up and went about his business.

Old Longfellow:

There was only so much room in the little cabin for decorations..so you’ve had to improvise some. As such, one of your best ideas yet perhaps, you clambered up into your snow-haired lovers lap.

About the time he was going to ask what the sudden forwardness was about, out came a pathetically spare twig of bright colored green leaves from your back pocket. He couldn’t help but roll his slate coloured eyes at you whenever you held it above his head, giggling like a fool when you kissed him.

He couldn’t ever grow tired of your antics.

Preston:

It was the cutest thing.

It had been an accident whenever you both happened upon the hanging plant, his deep eyes slightly widening when his gaze flickered up. Quickly after that discovery, he began to stammer and blush.

No matter how many times he had already kissed you, he still couldn’t get over the butterflies.

“Well, Garvey? Are you going to keep me waiting?”

Sturges:

It probably wasn’t the best act, but he tried to pretend he didn’t see it. Walking hand in hand with you, the whole walk to the spot under the mistletoe had felt like the longest he’d embarked upon. Despite his intention to keep his desire hidden, you knew exactly what he was doing.

“You know...there are much easier ways to ask me for a kiss.” “As sugar, youre no fun..couldn’t have waited until we were underneath the mistletoe?”

You simply answered that question by giving him a soft kiss to his cheek.

X6-88:

The Institue had its Christmases, that he was aware of, but as a synth- he wasn’t ever included in the festivities. So, seeing you and all your friends so cheerful and running amuck did little aside from just confuse him. Sure, seeing all the pretty lights inspired a little sense of wonder but that was about all he felt.

He was just happy that you were happy.

At least that was all the joy he felt until you introduced him to one tradition, one he’d soon consider to not be utterly ridiculous.

With a warm smile, you pulled him underneath what he assumed was drying herbs and suddenly kissed him. This sent his glasses askew and those gorgeous stormy coloured eyes to widen in shock.

“Wha-what was that?” “Mistletoe, X6, Mistletoe.” “I think I like it.”

[awkwardpenguinproductions]

Education

Part 12 of the Dragon of the Yuyan

Read on AO3 | Series Masterpost

Aang has never seen Zuko so furious. He paces around their campsite like a caged tigerdillo, clenching and unclenching his fists, while Aang and Katara watch him warily and Sokka whittles unconcernedly.

Every so often Zuko will stop, grit his teeth, and sign rapidly to the open air. He doesn't seem to care that he's going too fast for anyone to understand him, he seems to just be signing to vent the way Aang sometimes just talks to Appa or Momo without expecting any response.

Maybe Aang shouldn't have asked Zuko if Jeong-Jeong had been right about the nature of firebending. They had made camp for the night after fleeing the Deserter's base, and had just finished dinner when Aang's curiosity had been piqued by Zuko using his bending to stoke the campfire, making it smell wonderfully of sandalwood and hot spices. The question had tumbled out of his mouth without his permission, and Zuko had stopped and stared at Aang before turning fully to face him and demanding in slow, careful hand-language exactly what Jeong-Jeong had said.

Aang had told him, Katara had added some stuff that Jeong-Jeong had told her, and Zuko had sat blinking at them for a moment before jumping to his feet and starting to pace. And five minutes later, he still hasn't stopped. Out of the corner of his eye, Aang is nervously watching the campfire swell and shrink with the firebender's angry breaths. It's started to smell less of warm, comforting incense and more of something like burning hair.

"Hey Jerkbender," Sokka calls suddenly, slicing a curl of wood off of whatever he's carving, "might want to cool down and explain what's got you puffing smoke before you get dumped in a river."

Zuko stops short, takes several deep, slow breaths, then walks back to sit in front of Aang with slow, careful movements.

Sorry, he signs, and Aang tries to make an effort to pay attention to both his hands and his face, because Zuko has said over and over that so much of his language is spoken through facial expressions, and right now Zuko looks tired and upset as he rubs his fist against his chest twice in a circle.

"I'm sorry for getting so impatient and for not listening to Jeong-Jeong and for burning Katara," Aang says.

Zuko shakes his head as he makes the sign for "angry" and then points at Aang. Not angry at you.

"But I hurt Katara!" Aang protests. He can't believe that that huge tantrum the firebender had just finished wasn't about how stupid he'd been.

Zuko smiles sadly. He signs "fire", and "dangerous". Fire is dangerous . His expression goes firm, and he signs "control", "need", and "strict", and points at Aang. You need strict control. Then he smiles again, kind and understanding, points at Aang, and signs "new", "mistake", "happen". Mistakes happen when you're new.

Aang knows that, he does , but bending has always been his thing . He's always been really, really good at it. He got his Airbending Mastery tattoos a week before his twelfth birthday! And he's the Avatar . But the idea of causing pain , of hurting someone … his stomach roils.

A fingertip gently flicks the center of his forehead, just above the point of his arrow. Aang looks up to find Zuko studying him in that way that makes Aang feel like he's reading every movement Aang makes. Then he closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, and lets it out silently.

He makes the sign that he'd made up for Jeong-Jeong, and "places" him to his right. Aang remembers how confusing that had been the first time he'd done that, talking about his brother Kai, and how he'd had to write out an explanation for it before Aang and the others had understood. Then Zuko points to himself, signs "angry", then points at "Jeong-Jeong".

"You're angry at Jeong-Jeong?" Aang asks. What? But Jeong-Jeong was a Master , and had been one for way longer than Zuko had.

Zuko nods and scowls. He points to "Jeong-Jeong", signs "not", shakes his head as he signs "understand", and then "firebending". Jeong-Jeong really doesn't understand firebending.

WHAT?

"But he's a Master Firebender!" Aang gasped. "How could he not understand firebending?"

Zuko signs "fire" and "what" with his brow furrowed. What is fire?

"Dangerous," Aang answers immediately. "Hot. Destructive."

Yes, Zuko replies with a shrug. He turns to Katara, and signs, "your", "home", points to her, "house", "make", "warm", and "how" with furrowed brow. It takes Aang a minute to put the sentence together in an order that makes sense: At home, how do you make your house warm?

It takes Katara even longer, but eventually the copper piece drops and she blurts out, "Oh! We have a hearth in the middle of our igloo with a fire."

Zuko nods, and signs "cold" and "dangerous" with a raised brow. Cold is dangerous?

Katara nods. " Very . If you get wet and don't warm up fast enough, you freeze to death. If you stay outside too long, and fall asleep, you freeze to death. Hearthfires keep us alive."

Zuko points at Katara and grins broadly. Then he turns to Aang and signs "fire" and "life" and "same". Fire and life are the same.

Aang and Katara glance at each other, baffled.

Zuko continues. He signs "fire" and "without", and shakes his head as he signs "food" and "warmth" and "light". Without fire, there's no food, no warmth, and no light. He signs "fire", "life", and "same" again, and then "fire" and "life"––wait, he'd double-signed "life", so that meant "alive". Fire is life, and fire is alive. He points at Aang, signs "fire", "its", "life" scowls strongly as he snaps out the sign "must", and uses two hands to sign "respect". You must respect fire's life. Then his expression softens, and he signs "firebending", "afraid", and "need" while shaking his head. You don't need to be afraid of firebending. He has a confident smirk on his face as he signs "control" and "need", then shakes his head as he signs "afraid". You need control, not fear.

He gently flicks Aang's arrow, then orders, Come. First lesson.

Aang follows Zuko away from the campfire, and sits down cross-legged on the ground. He motions for Aang to sit across from him.

"Firebending", "strong", "from", and "breath". Firebending strength comes from the breath. "Control" and "breath", points at Aang, and then "control" and "fire". Control the breath, and you control the fire. "Breath" and "copy me". Copy my breathing.

He begins to take deep, even breaths that Aang matches easily, and he finds his eyes closing involuntarily as he focuses on the soothing rhythm. After a few moments, Zuko touches his knee, and Aang opens his eyes without losing the cadence of his breaths.

His teacher holds out a hand, and a small flame blossoms above his palm, crackling merrily and giving off the wonderful aroma of sandalwood and hot spices. Like an incense stick made with the ingredients for curry. Mmm, curry.

Great, now Aang’s hungry again.

A firm poke to the center of Aang’s arrow reminds him to focus, and then Zuko gently grasps his hand by the wrist and pulls it toward him. He deposits the flame from his other hand into Aang’s open palm, and Aang feels the heat of it racing up and down his chi paths in a steady pulse.

Aang breathes in, and the flame grows. He breathes out, and the flame shrinks. The pulses of heat through his chi paths is steady and constant, like a heartbeat. He’s never felt anything like it before.

He meets Zuko's eyes, and the older boy grins at him. Fire is life, and fire is alive , the firebender signs again, leaning forward eagerly as he double signs the second "life". “Firebending”, points at Aang, “strong”, “stubborn”, and “need”. To firebend, you need a strong will. With a stern expression, he signs "your", “stubborn”, “more-than”, and “fire”. Your will must be stronger than the fire. “If”, Aang’s “stubborn”, “strong” + “enough”, “then”, Aang’s “control”, “strong”. If your will is strong enough, then your control will be strong.

“I think I get it,” Aang says, watching the flame in his hand dance. He can feel it reaching, wanting more, more , but he keeps his breaths even and deep, and refuses to let it grow. “Jeong-Jeong said Zhao had no self-control, which is why his firebending is so wild. But I don’t get what he meant when he told Katara that whole “razor’s edge” thing. If you have self-control, and have control over your fire, doesn’t that mean you’re not savage?”

He looks up to find Zuko smirking at him proudly. Good question, he praises. Then he starts signing again, very slowly. "During", "S-O-Z-I-N", "reign", "spirit", "firebending", and he finishes with "awful" and "change" signed with a huge gesture and a thoroughly disgusted face. During Sozin's reign, the spirit of firebending underwent a horrible change. "Firebending" + "people", "start", "use", "negative", "emotion", “power”, “firebending”. Firebenders started using negative emotions to power their firebending. “Angry”, “fear”, “hate”, “aggressive”. He snaps out the signs as though they would infect him if he didn’t get rid of them as fast as possible, his expressions magnifying and reflecting the emotions he’s listing. Rage, fear, hate, aggression. His shoulders slump and his expression turns sad as he continues to sign. “Spirit”, “firebending”, “true”, “lost”. The true spirit of firebending was lost.

“So what’s the true spirit of firebending?” Aang asks.

Passion. Zuko’s golden eyes gleam, and his jaw sets behind his determined smirk. He signs “people” ending with his hand on his chest, signs “save” with a fierce and protective expression, points to himself, and finishes with an emphatic “want”. I want to save my people. "Passion" ending with his hand on his chest. That is my passion. He signs "happen", "difficult", "enthusiasm", and then "continue". It drives me to keep going when things are hard. "Firebending", "power", "use", "enthusiasm". I use that drive to power my firebending.

He signs "your" at Aang, then signs “passion” with his eyebrow raised. What is your passion? "Happen", "difficult", then points to Aang and signs "enthusiasm" and "continue" with a furrowed brow. What drives you to keep going when things are hard?

Aang stares at the slowly dwindling flame in his hand, still pulsing steadily, and can't think of an answer. The monks had always taught him to let go of such attachments, because they got in the way of a free spirit. He thinks about his growing feelings for Katara, but that doesn't really feel right. What Zuko is talking about… it sounds like conviction. An absolute truth that would never change. Aang can't think of anything he feels that strongly about.

His confusion must show on his face, because Zuko gives him a small smile and pats his shoulder as he stands up. He signs "tonight", "enthusiasm" with a raised eyebrow, then he makes a small circle with his finger near the crown of his head with a pensive expression––Aang guesses it might mean "think about"––, and then points at Aang. Tonight, think about what drives you. "Sunrise", "we", "meditate". We'll meditate at sunrise. After a gentle flick to his arrow, he signs Goodnight and strides off to set up his bedroll. Momo glances up at him from where he's curled up in the center of Sokka's back, and as soon as the firebender has arranged his bedroll the way he likes and pulled off his boots, the lemur purrs and scampers over to burrow into the crook of the older boy's arm. Zuko runs his hand down Momo's back, from between his ears to the tip of his tail, then with the same hand makes a gesture like pushing something down, and the campfire shrinks to glowing embers.

Aang lies back against the ground, hands folded behind his head, and stares up at the stars. He has a lot to think about.

Previous | Next

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

Humans are Space Orcs, “Animal Planet, Treats”

Another quick one of these for you this morning. Hope you all like it and have a good day. 

-

“Good hungry human, now drop the nice TV caster, drop it, I SAID DROP IT! Mendex hit the floor with an unceremonious thud. The human lowers its head looking very displeased, as it shuffles it’s feet across the floor. The other humans look on in agreed displeasure eyeing Mendex as he scrambles across the floor and goes back to cowering behind his camera crew, where he would have preferred to be for the past few minutes, instead being snatched up by the ravenous looking humans, who are now baring their teeth at him hungrily.

“Keep that thing away from me!”

The doctor turns wagging his hand at the human, “bad, bad human. You bad naughty human, we do not eat guests!” 

The human sticks it’s mouth tentacle out in response, and even the doctor seems a bit nonplussed at that. The human appears to be very smug with itself.

Doctor Krill turns to look at the crew, “I should probably feed them before they get more aggressive, come on, they will be much more docile once they aren’t hungry anymore.”

Followed by a nervous group of TV casters, they make their way down the dark Tunnels of the human hive. It is more than a little creepy, the walls are lined in a thousand tubes and panels of metal. They wonder what sinister things could be carried inside those pipes.

What did the humans store in their dark places.

What did they hide in their dark places.

More strange animal noises up the hallway. The camera crew pulls back hiding behind the doctor who walks up with the humans. He pats them on occasion, and they circle around him and their alpha.

THey come to a halt just then looking up the hall.

Another group of humans has rounded the corner, and both groups stop.

“Oh no.” Krill whispers.

“What do you mean oh no?” One of the crewmembers snaps camera shaking so badly in his hands that he almost tips it onto the floor. The footage will probably be unusable. 

“Another, rival group of humans.” He glances back at them, “They often fight each other for dominance. The smaller humans will try to gang up on the alpha for territory .”

“H-how do we know they want to do that.”

“Oh, you see that big ugly one at the end of the hall, yeah, that one, he always tries to take territory from the alpha.”

The camera shakily zooms in on the opposite end of the hallway. The human that stands there is just a bit shorter than the alpha with dark fur, and a few shades darker skin. He makes some sort of noise, and the alpha chirps back. They stand there for a second before the rival shakes himself and crouches low to the ground.

“Everyone RUN!” Krill shouts.

He didn’t have to ask the crew twice, as they turn and book it off down the hallway. Behind them they can hear the ravening roaring of the fighting creatures and the clatter of feet on metal as they charg after each other.

They can hear the strange repetitive revving noise from behind, though, for the life of them, none can remember what it meant.

They roll down the halls nearly getting themselves lost when Krill yells.

“Hurry, this way!.”

A few of them nearly skid into a wall before backtracking and rounding another corner following hurriedly after the doctor as the sound of fighting receded into the distance.

“Don’t worry, we will be safe through here.” 

They break through the open door and….

And found themselves standing at the front of a room, surrounded on all sides by wide-eyed humans.

There must have been at least 100 of them.

“Everyone, stay very still….” THe doctor whispers, “These humans are eating  so they are likely to be relatively docile  do not make any sudden moves, and do not disturb their food whatever you do, a human will hurt you  over food.”

Following after the doctor, the crew move a little further into the room as the humans shift in their seats, a few of them standing to get a better view of the intruders. They do not feel safe at all here.

“Do you think the others will… follow us.” Mendex stammers glancing back towards the door. So far cowering behind his crew members had been beneficial  but now, nowhere is safe, and he is starting to feel the heat. His fear is not out of place though, as the rest of the crew huddles in back to back with each other facing outwards towards the staring humans. They were trapped in no uncertain terms.

They can see the humans now, glancing back and forth between each other with what must be hungry expressions. None of them can read the human faces, but they know enough to know they were about to be eaten.

A few of the standing humans move slowly forward cutting in closer to their small huddled group.

They circle fro the outside, and the camera follows them as they move focusing in on the powerful, lithe movement of their muscles expanding and contracting under layers of rubbery skin.

“Ok, everyone must remain calm.” The doctor began, “There is an easy fix to this.” The others turn around to stare at him like he is insane, but he does not heed their expressions as he reached downwards pulling something, seemingly from nowhere and brandishing it at the humans.

The aliens stare  on in confusion.

It is a colorful cylinder maybe seven inches long  and when he flicks up the lid it makes a curious popping noise. The camera zooms in again exposing a strange set of runes down one side.

The humans stop in their tracks looking on with their strange, wide eyes.

“Everyone, hold out your hand.” The doctor announces, “quickly, quickly, they won’t wait forever.” 

They scramble to do as told holding out their hands as the doctor moves by tipping the little container over their open palms and puuring….. A strange set of brightly colored orbs onto their hands.”

Once finished, doctor Krill takes his place at the head of the group and clears his throat, “Alright everyone, here is how this is going to work. WHat I have given you are treats made especially for humans. Humans love brightly colored sugary things. Now, what you are going to do, is your are going to hold your hands palm out to the humans and allow them to take the treats. This does a couple of things. The number one being that, humans love food, and they are liable to like anyone who gives them food. Maybe if the human likes you very much you can pet them, and rest assured that they will not attack you after that.”

Ok, that seemed simple enough.”

Closing their eyes, and holding out their hands the camera crew sat with bated breath just waiting for the humans to devour them hole. Maybe they would take a test bite first to see what they tasted like, maybe they would just come in for one big chomp and have it over with.

It was too scary!

They just couldn’t look!

And then one of the humans acted. Shrugging its powerful muscled shoulders once, it reached down and plucked some of the brightly colored treats from one of the quivering aliens tilting back their head and dropping the colorful orbs straight down their throat and swallowing goal. Once one human had done so, a group of other humans moved in to join in. it wasn’t a silent affair. The humans chattered to each other happily, and even towards the aliens.

“Its working.” Someone breathed  and the entire group slouched with a relief so palpable it could have been bottled. 

“Go on, bet them, I am sure they will not mind.” And while a few of the humans had backed out of range, the vast majority stayed behind. A small human, probably a female with deep set hazle eyes and short tawny hair sat at the center of the group and allowed them to stroke fingers through her fur letting off that strange revving noise every now and again, “See look at that, what a good human. Such a good and nice human.” Krill handed over the colorful tube, and the human accepted with great glee separating the colored orbs into groups before eating them one color at a time, “Humans can be relatively docile when well fed. Now, a little lesson on humans is that they are primarily omnivores, which means they can eat both plant and animal based material and pretty much everything in between. Go ahead and assume that if you can eat it, a man definitely can “ He stroked the tawny human’s head 

“Now humans are a very strange creature, and when it comes to attracting other humans, things tend to get a little more complicated. Humans like to rub themselves with strange and interesting oils to make themselves smell better to other humans. A human’s natural musk tends to be unpleasant even to their own species, so those that hide it best are the ones that tend to get ates. Honestly humans don’t really tend to smell on their own, but the bacteria which they attract do tend to have that problem. I would suggest washing your hands after touching a human.

The enthusiasm died somewhat with that statement.

“However, a good human tries to keep themselves relatively clean. Additionally humans like to line their nests in many soft things, in order to sleep. It is a tendency for humans to be attracted to and to collect shiny objects. If a human really likes another human, they will often try to bribe the affections of another with the shiny objects which they have collected. It is more than common for humans to wear shiny objects around their wrists, hands and necks. However, some humans do not like shiny things but will accept any form of bribery involving food. However, be careful when interacting with humans around food because they will become very angry if their food is stolen or tampered with.” 

Looking around just then, it is clear that they have drawn a crowd. Humans than had been sitting on the other side of the room had approached to closer chairs, and looked onwards as if they were listening to the conversation.

The human in the center of their circle had now finished of the treats and was content to be patted on the head by the other crewmembers who were quickly warming up to her.

“As you can see here, humans are very curious, so curious, in fact, it is one of the issues with their species related to survival. Humans like to explore their new environments by touching things with their hands and their mouths. They do this, because human hands and lips are the most sensitive parts of their bodies and can detect minute changes in the texture of a surface. This is also a way in which humans bond, by touching each other, and in certain cases touching their mouths to other humans mouths.”

The alien crew made faces.

Krill nodded “Do not try that ever, not that you would ever want to, but humans are very disgusting creatures, and they have more cells or bacteria on their bodies than they have human cells on their bodies. In essence , humans are a hazardous waste issue, and should be dealt with accordingly.

The aliens pulled back a little from the human they had been petting.

She seemed very unsatisfied and moved closer forcing them to go back to what they were doing.

“Oh yes, also it is important to make sure your human is getting the proper amount of attention, praise, and reward for the good things they are doing.”

“Good human,” Someone muttered to the human they had been patting.

It wasn’t a moment later that they were all alerted to a sound in the hallway, turning to find the alpha returning form the hall alone and, seemingly triumphant. In his hands he carried…. What appeared to be the things humans tended to wear on their feet.

He walked over and dropped them by the doctor who looked down and then back up at the human who hissed something unintelligible.

He turned to look at the room, “And here you see it, the human has succeeded in his fight for supremacy over his pack. And he has brought back a trophy to show that he is one.” He turned to look at the group very seriously, “Humans often steal each others shoes once a fight for dominance is over. Since they stand on their feet, the shoe is often one of the hardest items of clothing to stel, and requires the other human to be off their feet and in another vulnerable position.”

They glanced between each other nervously, “What happened to the other human?”

“The other human? Oh, well exactly what you would expect.”

“What should we expect?”

“I don’t know, whatever you expect is exactly what it is.”

There was a pause before, “They ate it!.”

The doctor frowned glanced up at the human paused shrugged, “Yes. Taking off the shoes makes it easier to cook and eat, but he isn’t likely to do it until later, so we don’t have to worry about seeing that.”

There was no need for them to see it.

They were already imagining.