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demonslayedher · 4 years

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An Attempted Timeline: Kochou Shinobu

Very open to feedback, because canon is as spread out as Muzan after his first date with Sun Breathing. Instead of tracking the year or distance from current timeline, we shall track this by Shinobu’s age (roughly, in most spots). Despite being centered around Shinobu’s life events, I’m also diving into Aoi’s life, the other Pillars’ timelines of life events too, and doing some conjecture about Shinobu’s deceased Tsuguko. Should be obvious, but spoilers ahead.

Childhood: Raised by kind parents who possessed medical knowledge. Sometime around elementary school age (at the oldest, I’d put her at 11, but probably younger), parents are killed by a demon, house is demolished, and she and Kanae are rescued by Himejima (who was maybe around 20 or younger at the time), who hands them off to the Kakushi. After the funeral for their parents, she and Kanae seek out Himejima for training, and after a little time with them he sends them to separate cultivators (according to the light novel chapter “One Winged Butterfly.”) Training under cultivators usually takes about a year. She and Kanae perhaps passed the Final Selection when Shinobu was around 12-ish, give or take. (For setting and comparison’s sake, Kagaya and Amane have long since already been married and Kiriya is already born.) Whether Kanae becomes a Pillar first or they establish the hospital at the Butterfly Mansion first is unclear, but these events happen relatively quickly. I suspect they might have had access to a lot of savings from their parents. Furthermore, this makes Kanae one of the many Pillars in the recent generation who blows that “it usually takes five years to become a Pillar” Taisho Secret away. (As an aside, maybe the reason the Corp as a whole seems to be full of weaklings is because the current Pillars have sucked up all the amazingness, but I digress.)

The Butterfly Mansion’s hospital was established long before Sanemi became a Pillar (according to the light novel chapter “Signpost of the Wind”). Sometime after Kanae becomes a Pillar, Sanemi becomes a Pillar. Giyuu was a Pillar before Sanemi was; the three of them were the same age. My guess is that Shinobu was around 13 when Kanae became a Pillar, putting Kanae and Sanemi around ages 15ish~17 when they would have had chances to interact. For comparison, Giyuu and Sabito were 13 at the time of the Final Selection, so Giyuu would had already been in the Corp longer than Kanae and Shinobu.

The following events either happened very quickly or unfolded over the course of a couple years:

Aoi (likely the the same age as Kanao) comes into their care (she preceded Kanao since she was there for Kanao’s naming, according to Taisho Secrets and second fanbook)*

Kanao (two years younger than Shinobu but much smaller, and given how petite Shinobu is, I can only assume this is because of how malnourished Kanao was) is adopted as their little sister on some May 19 (the anime seems to put the event in winter, but I assume it was already in production before the first fanbook was published with that detail)

Kanao has ample opportunity to observe Kanae’s Flower Breathing and learn by watching

Kiyo, Sumi, and Naho come into the fold (separately or all at once, though not as relatives)

Kanae is killed by Douma (Shinobu is age 14, one of the only pieces of this timeline we can be certain of). As she wished in her dying moments for Shinobu to live a normal life, she may or may not have had Shinobu as her Tsuguko, or had any Tsuguko at all.

Shinobu, age 14, becomes the head of the Butterfly Mansion household, where she already has five adoptive/pseudo younger sisters. At this point she takes on a cheerful personality, as well as probably set her heart on becoming a Pillar as soon as possible and becoming strong enough to defeat the demon that killed Kanae.

*Aoi’s circumstances are important (and curious) because the second fanbook tells us both that she practiced Water Breathing and that she passed the same Final Selection as Muichiro. Since Muichiro became a Pillar two months after taking up the sword, that means he went almost straight from sword to Final Selection to Pillar. We don’t know how much recovery time he needed after losing Yuichiro at age 11, because he wasn’t among the Pillars in the Rengoku Gaiden, so he perhaps only started practicing the sword closer to late 12 or age 13 (putting Aoi around 14, 15-ish when she passed the Final Selection, and presumably quit the sword right after that). It’s interesting to note what a different relationship Aoi has with Shinobu than Kanao does, especially since Aoi was there first but Kanao was adopted as a sister in a more all-encompassing sense. I suspect (and am putting this in italics for conjecture): Due to whatever circumstances with her Water Breath cultivator (possibly difficulty in housing a lone girl among a bunch of male students), Aoi needed to live elsewhere during her training. The Butterfly Mansion was a good spot, so Kanae and Shinobu agreed, like sponsoring a junior, and in exchange Aoi helped out around the house and hospital. Aoi kept her own last name, as she had her own family to avenge. When Kanao came in, it was purely out of wanting to help an orphan who wound up staying with them instead of being adopted out, which is why she was given a family identity and an opportunity to take the Kochou name if she wanted to (or even Aoi’s family name). They were probably treated differently because of the nature of how they came in and an assumption that Aoi would leave as soon as she entered the Corp. As Kiyo, Naho, and Sumi came in, it was a weird middle ground of whether they were just looked after until something better for them came along or if they were adopted as sisters as fully as Kanao was. Ultimately, they still retained a lot of their identities from before they were orphaned, and it was more of a pseudo-sisterhood, which Aoi had sort of fallen into as well. But, once Aoi entered the Corp and then quit the sword, she probably didn’t feel she could turn to her cultivator for any help, so at that point Shinobu took more full responsibility for her as a permanent household member.

Moving back on to Shinobu’s timeline, if I’m remembering the Giyuu Gaiden correctly (it’s been a while since I read it so I don’t recall exactly), that story took place shortly after Giyuu sent Tanjiro and Nezuko to Urokodaki, and it was also shortly after Shinobu became a Pillar. Since Tanjiro took two years to train after that, that would put her at age 16. Since Kanao joined the Corp in the same batch as Tanjiro, that means Shinobu would have had about two years between becoming a Pillar and taking Kanao as her official Tsuguko (I stress ‘official’ because it comes with distinction Tengen respects, it’s not casual “sure, I’ll look after you” thing). In that time, she had (at least) three other previous Tsuguko, all girls given butterfly hairpins, and who were all killed by demons in that two year period.

Conjecture about Shinobu and these Tsuguko:

Knowing how likely she is to be killed before she has an opportunity to avenge Kanae, Shinobu was likely in a hurry to train a Tsuguko and started trying to pass her knowledge on right away. It’s possible they were even closer in age to her than Kanao, maybe even older, and quite possibly physically stronger. It’s possible they were trained under Flower Breathing cultivators and still used that Breath, which would have given Kanao opportunities to learn by watching. That said, Shinobu doesn’t mention or think back to her Tsuguko often, and they never appear in Kanao’s flashbacks, though their deaths are some of the little pieces that strengthen her resolve to slay demons (she seems to care more about how her pseudo-sisters’ families were killed by them). My guess is that Shinobu made a clear divide between family and work, so as to protect the little girls from getting attached to more people who were likely to be taken away from them. Likely, her Tsuguko and the Butterfly Mansion girls resided in separate spaces and had very little interaction, and their Pillar/Tsuguko relationship was kept very formal so they could all focus on their demon slaying goals (albeit they were probably fond of each other anyway, signified by the butterfly hairpins).

In that two year period, the following events occur in roughly this order:

Rengoku become a Pillar (around age 18 or 19, and since he was raised practicing Flame Breathing he probably finished the Final Selection around age 12 or 13, so it clearly took him a more normal period of time to become a Pillar. But, despite being naturally gifted with strength his mother recognized, this drives home how hard he needed to work to overcome a perceived lack of “talent.”)

Iguro becomes a Pillar (around age 19 or 20, so he likely had worked at it a long time)

Aoi passes the Final Selection and quits the sword (thereby leaving Shinobu able to leave most of the hospital and household work to her since she’s no longer training), Muichirio becomes a Pillar (around age 12 or 13, genius-level speed at attaining Pillarhood)

Mitsuri becomes a Pillar (around age 18 or 19--a friend, yay! Also someone who became a Pillar way faster than normal.)

On these note, please also me to jump backwards a few years to when Kanae was still alive. Uzui had to have been a Pillar by at least age 18, but given the state of Ubuyashiki’s illness, probably a lot earlier than that, and he probably didn’t take very long to become a Pillar after entering the Corp. Since Giyuu was already a Pillar in Sanemi’s flashback, then he attained Pillarhood by, at the very oldest, age 17, so it took him four years or less. Interesting that in all these four or more years he’s been convinced the position is vacant, there’s no one else who performs Pillar-worthy achievement in the Corp’s most widely used Breath style. That really drives home the difference between the Pillars and the average cannon fodder. (Also worth noting, the Kamaboko Squad’s progression seems to fall somewhere in the middle; right to the very end the Taisho Secrets state how Tanjiro was still far from mastering Hinokami Kagura.)

At late 17 or age 18, two events occur:

Shinobu begins filling her body with poison for the sake of exacting revenge, knowing she will likely be eaten (she began about a year before the Pillar Training arc)

Kanao sneaks out to the Final Selection of her own will and with self-studied Flower Breathing, officially becomes a member of the Corp. Shinobu worries Kanao was just doing this because it’s what everyone around her does, as Kanao cannot express that she’s built her own hatred for demons.

Shinobu makes Kanao her Tsuguko almost right away, making the following changes (conjecture in italics):

Teaching her proper Breathing and sword technique (and the little girls witness her quick progress with blowing up gourds)

Instructing her very simply just to focus on cutting on demons’ heads so that she doesn’t get caught up in indecision on the battlefield

Censuring Kanao a bit for her choice to go against her sisters’ wishes and take up the sword, for now she risks death and giving the other pseudo-sisters yet another person to grieve. Given the risky nature of their work, Shinobu feels forced to treat her the same strict way she treated her Tsuguko instead of treat her as a sister. Kanao accepts this and goes from treating Shinobu as her sister to treating her as her master (calling her “Shihan” instead of “Shinobu-neesan”).

Over the course of the events of canon, Tanjiro and company spend a very large portion of their time in recovery at the Butterfly Mansion (even if a large portion of that time is spent unconscious), they might as well be pseudo-adoptive little brothers. But, I suspect Shinobu bonds more readily with girls. Also in that time, Kanao speeds up the ranks (she attains Hinoto rank, the 7th of 10 ranks, while Tanjiro & co attain the one above that, Hinoe). Furthermore, thanks to Tanjiro’s influence, Kanao also makes leap and bounds in being able to express herself, like something finally broke through. This at last leaves Shinobu somewhat relieved, after maybe five years or so since she first adopted Kanao. By that time she is getting anxious about the impending final battles (and her death, which she has deemed inevitable but purposeful), and she tells Kanao the plan. And then Oyakata-sama is like, “heeeey, so I heard you want to be friends with demons, I got you one, her name is Tamayo.” (It’s possible he already told her he was planning to get Tamayo’s help and wanted her cooperation, but he didn’t actually approach Tamayo about it until after Pillar Training started (though by Kimetsu logic, it’s highly possible that the crow talking to Tamayo took place much earlier than when it was presented). I gotta wonder how quickly they worked to combine their research and if the other girls in the mansion had any idea who Tamayo and Yushiro were.

And then, at age 18 (or likely 19 given the progression of the series and very lengthy recovery periods, heck maybe even 20), Douma. Shinobu dies, Kanao switches back to calling her Shinobu-neesan instead of Shihan, Kanae’s butterfly hairpin which Kanao wore breaks in battles, Shinobu exacts her revenge on Douma while her efforts against Muzan are also in motion and then she reunites with Kanae and her parents in spirit, and Kanao wears Shinobu’s butterfly hairpin in the final showdown and then she makes Shinobu the surprise hero in the surprise final battle to save Tanjiro. It was a really long night, and a really short, busy life.

#Kimetsu no Yaiba #Demon Slayers #Kocho Shinobu #Kochou Shinobu #KnY fandom theories and meta

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oddsnendsfanfics · 4 years

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Unraveling Over the Holidays

Genre: Fan Fiction

Pairing: Henry Cavill/OFC

Warnings: Fluff. Implied Pandemic world we live in

Rating: G

Length: Drabble

Disclaimer: a strict work of fiction, I own nothing except the original characters and the plot line. In no way am I affiliated to any of it.

A/N: Inspired by the need to write more Henry and Nell, along with Henry’s latest IG post and here we have it.

Henry Cavill Master List

“Almost have it, Wild Boy.” Henry announced looking into the abyss of the computer they were attempting to build. This was their second this year, a true feat. Rarely did Henry and Ivan get the time to break down and rebuild their own systems. It was a welcome hobby, keeping them busy when there wasn't much else to do these days.

They had been working away on the project since breakfast. Frustrated mumbling and grunting seemed to be the only sounds coming from the other room. Nell listened, checking in on them from time to time, waiting for them to finish. Today was the day they were going to finally trim their Christmas tree. After days of waiting, it would finally be a sight to behold. Or as much a sight to behold as they could manage. All in all Nell felt that she decorated a pretty damn fine looking tree.

It was shortly after lunch, when Nell began to get annoyed. When she'd brought in a plate of sandwiches and asked her husband and son if they would be done soon, both had told her that they needed ten more minutes. Three hours and one boasting Instagram photo later...

“Dad, I think I have this backwards.” Ivan furrowed his brow staring at the piece that he was attempting to put in.

“Let me look.” Henry moved to take a closer inspection.

Not wanting the break anything, risking a costly repair. Ivan was learning fast and enjoyed working with his hands. More than that, he really enjoyed the uninterrupted time with his dad. “Not backwards, but the next slot over.” Instructing his son how to put the piece in properly.

Neither of them seeming to notice or care that Nell had drug out their boxes of Christmas decorations. Outside, she and Henry had strung lights in a few bushes and around their garden early in the month. Wanting to get it done in case they got an unexpected cold or worse. Inside Nell had put up her favourite battery operated candles, the old fashioned looking ones that stood in the windows. Every window in the farm house had a candle display. The kitchen had lights and a few decorations, the sitting room, the office, and even the bathrooms were ready.

All they needed was to get the tree decorated. Presents under a naked tree was plain wrong.

“Henry, Ivan.” Nell tapped her foot on the floor, her arms folded across her chest. Huffing at the two of them. She should have known better than to let them tear apart that damn computer this morning.

“I think she saw.” Ivan wasn't doing a very good job at whispering, his mother could hear him on the other side of the room. Nell rolled her eyes. Of course she had saw the photo, over 3,000 people had saw that photo and it had only taken five minutes.

“What is it, darling?” Henry leaned back in his chair, glancing over his shoulder at his wife. Smiling sweetly, his usual trick when he wanted to attempt getting out of something.

“Tree.” She gestured to the tree behind her.

“What about it? Is it too dry? Ivan, didn't I ask you to water that this morning?” Shaking his head, Henry glanced at his son.

“I did, dad.” Ivan huffed, holding the light at the perfect angle to see inside the box.

“Guys, can we please decorate this tree? It's been here since Sunday.”

“We'll get to it.”

“When? It's already Friday. Henry, we have had this in here for nearly a week. A naked, boring, lackluster tree.” Lecturing, Nell rubbed her temples, “Christmas is in a week! A week! This is the latest we have ever left the tree.”

Setting down his manual, Henry pushed his chair away from the desk, standing to observe the tree. He hadn't thought it was that big of a deal, they had gone last week and picked out the tree, Henry wasn't sure that this would be the final spot for the Christmas icon. Something Nell would assume was an excuse.

He should have taken the photo from the other side, oops. Had he not mentioned the bare tree to the world, his wife likely wouldn't have been making such a deal about it. Until now, Nell had been avoiding it as much as him and Ivan.

“Do you want to do it today?” Wrapping his arms around her waist, he kissed the back of her head. “The wild boy and I are more than happy to let you take over.”

If she wanted to decorate the tree, by herself, it would have been done hours ago.

“Nice try, but this was to be a family activity.” Nell furrowed her brow, huffing. “Why can't you stop fiddling with that damn box for twenty minutes?”

“I love you, Mrs. Cavill.” He knew exactly how to win this battle.

“Not working.”

“Worth a try,” Henry shrugged giving her a kiss on the cheek. Squeezing his arms tighter around his wife, he groaned. Caving to her whim. “I'm going to make us some cocoa, then we can get this tree decorated. Wild boy, help your mum get the decorations out, please.”

“Uh, no.” Shaking her head, Nell escaped his clutches. “I am going to make the cocoa,” gently tapping the tip of Henry's nose she grinned, “You and Ivan can untangle the lights. I have been asking you all week, get to work.”

Laying on the floor by the tree, Kal boofed and yawned. He had heard her asking multiple times over the week, but what could be do about it? Stretching, he stood cautiously to keep his wagging tail from smashing the tree. Nell really hated picking pieces of Christmas tree from his fur. Following her to the kitchen, he hurried when her steps approached the treat cupboard.

“You'd help me, wouldn't you bear?” Spotting her shadow, Nell smiled, tossing him a biscuit. “Honestly, those two are more and more difficult every year. I feel like I'm raising two children sometimes.”

Oh lovely, here she was, in the middle of the kitchen talking to the dog. Whatever, at least Kal would listen to her gripe. Pulling down a mug and two tumbler glasses, Nell set the kettle to boil and then picked up the bottle of Johnnie Walker that had appeared on the counter a few days ago. Likely a gift from someone.

One candy cane hot cocoa and two whiskey and rosemary sours, at the ready. In the other room, Nell could hear Ivan and Henry singing along to I Want a Hippopotamus for Christmas. Loudly Ivan belted out the line about the hippo being a vegetarian, Henry swaying back and forth as he laughed and unraveled the lights. To Nell's credit, when she had put away their Christmas decorations the previous year, she had done a much nicer job than Henry.

“Looking good, gentlemen.” Complimenting their work, Nell smiled handing Ivan the cocoa. “Yours is on the tray,” she kissed Henry's cheek. “I decided to make use of the Johnnie Walker.” She winked.

Taking his drink, Henry smiled. “It's your bottle,”

“Mine? Did you buy it?” Nell sat on the floor beside Ivan, working at picking out more decorations.

“No, it came the other day. Some guy dropped it off, did you not read the card?” Henry laughed, joining his family on the floor. Nell shook her head. “Hold on,” He stood back up, groaning a little.

“Mum,” Ivan spoke pulling out another bundle of lights, “when the tree is done, can I watch a movie?”

“You don't want to help dad finish with the computer?” Sorting the other items in the box, Nell sat back on her heels reaching for her drink.

“I guess, but I think I'd like to watch a movie with you. If you have time.”

“For you, wild boy, I have all the time in the world.” Nell leaned over giving him a kiss on the head. Wrinkling his nose, Ivan brushed his hand over his dark curls, resetting them the way he liked them. “Which movie did you want to watch?”

“I don't know, we can find one.” Ivan worked away at the strand of lights, getting them ready to go on the tree, when Henry came back in. His mother wasn't tall enough to read the top, which meant his dad would have to start the lights.

Decorating the tree with his parents, the three of them, felt a little odd. For as long as Ivan could remember there was always a huge production to decorating their tree. This year was quiet, like most things throughout the year. They would be video calling family over Christmas Eve and Christmas Morning, instead of having them there in person. They were supposed to spend Christmas with the Stewart family this year, as sad as Ivan was to miss his trip he understood.

“Here you are,” Henry waved the small card around, crossing the floor to hand it to Nell.

One the outside was a fancy script, containing her name in gold lettering. Opening the small card, the kind one gets with a delivery of flowers, she admired the generic looking winter scene.

“To Nelly & Superman, Merry Xmas. May 2021 be better than whatever dumpster fire this is,” she read out loud, chuckling at the sentiment. “Love always, JPS. It's from Jordan.”

“How lovely, didn't he send one last year as well?”

“He did, but he sent that really nice Riesling.” Nell confirmed. Since Jordan hadn't been able to make it for the wedding, he'd sent the gift instead. “Along with the Ardbeg, for our wedding present.”

Henry nodded, he remembered drinking both vividly. Although he didn't get much of the Ardbeg, because Nell had deemed it off limits to anybody who wasn't her. Past and present gifts sorted and settled, Henry stood up with the first string of lights in hand. “I think it's time we get these on, what about you?”

“About time.” Sticking out her tongue, Nell pulled out the tinsel and a box of ornaments. “Gosh, Cavill, you have been taking forever.”

“Can't rush perfection, my darling.” Henry smirked, attaching the first string of soft white lights to the stout tree in the corner.

“Is that why we took so long?” Ivan teased helping his mother carefully lift ornaments from boxes.

“Of course.” Henry nodded, excusing his procrastination. “You know, I do love this tree.”

“It is a lovely tree. It's the perfect size.” Nell agreed with her husband. “I'm glad that we didn't go with a monstrous tree this year.”

Henry and Ivan had a habit of going for the biggest tree in the lot. This year, Nell had put her foot down, demanding that they pick something reasonable.

“I thought you liked a big, thick one.” Snorting, Henry paused to watch Nell's reaction.

“You, stop.” She wagged her finger at him. “Wild boy, can you go over to that blue storage bin and get the crystal star, please?”

The tree topper had been a gift from Henry's parents, the first year she and Henry had “unofficially” lived together. Nell had used it every year since, upon Henry's insistence that she kept it. Their first Christmas married, last year, his mother had wanted to gift them a new one. Politely Nell had declined, saying that she loved the one they had. Although, she was more than happy to accept the matching ornament set that went with it, as a late Wedding present.

“I love this star,” Taking the carefully wrapped box from Ivan; Nell placed it safely out of the way of Kal and Cavills.

“Lights are on.” Henry happily announced, clapping his hands together. “What's next?”

“Tinsel and bows.” Ivan sprung up with a card of tinsel, waving it wildly at his father. “Can I help?”

“What if I put on the tinsel, while you tie on the bows?”

“Deal.” Ivan nodded grabbing the gold and silver bows that Nell had made. They would soon be in need of some new bows. “Mum, momma, mum.” he bounced, “Want to help?”

“Sure, you take the gold and I will take the silver?” Standing to join Ivan and Henry at the tree. Nell took the card of silver bows, carefully tying them on to the boughs of the tree.

Over the next half hour or so, their tree began to come to life. The soft colours adorning the vibrant green really stood out in the otherwise neutral room. Laughing and teasing one another, Henry grabbed Ivan around the waist, spinning him – a safe distance from the tree – while Kal danced around them barking excitedly. Nell watched them with joyful delight, after the year they had endured it was nice to see her husband and son still keeping their happiness.

#henry cavill #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill x ofc #henry cavill fluff

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pyrobane-fandom-space · 4 years

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Significant Strides in Relations

Author: Merlyn Bane

Word Count: 10.3K (shut up, don't @ me okay)

Summary: Obi-Wan Kenobi manages to catch the attention of his attache on a diplomatic mission.

Warnings: Adult Content™. Strong language, smut. Virgin!Obi I guess. Unprotected sex--wrap it up!

A/N: Did I come back from the dead just to post some completely self-indulgent bullshit? Yes I did. This is like 3.7K worth of smut with like 5K worth of justification and like 1K of Skywalker bullshit at the end and I'm not sorry about any of it. I would also just like to blame @no-droids and their Open Door series for giving me a Thing for Obi-Wan in the first place.

(gif found on google, not mine)

You want to fuck the Jedi.

And, yeah, sure, you feel a little bit bad about it. You know enough about the Order to know that that's something the Jedi don't do--if the poor man knew the direction your thoughts had taken, he'd probably be scandalized. You can clearly imagine his face turning, just, scarlet, especially because you do mean fuck.

Obi-Wan Kenobi is visiting your planet on a diplomatic mission that you haven't been briefed on the particulars of, and you've been assigned to him as an attaché during his stay--tending to his needs, making sure he's comfortable while he's here. It's a function you've performed many, many times as part of your duties to the royal family, but Kenobi has been...particularly pleasant, to work with. The Jedi is kind, treats you like an equal even though you're technically working for him for the time being, and he's funny. You hadn't realized the Jedi were allowed a sense of humor, but Maker, this one is sarcastic, constantly teasing with a playful glint in his blue eyes that is...not helping you with the whole 'wanting to irredeemably corrupt him' problem that you're currently having.

You show up at his quarters just before breakfast to collect him as you have for the last two days and he's already there waiting for you, opening the door just as you're coming to a stop in front of it. Kenobi gives you a gracious smile as he steps into the hallway with you, letting the door slide closed behind him, and you return it before turning to start making your way to the dining hall. He falls in step next to you and despite the fact that he really isn't walking that close to you, you swear you can feel him there. "Good morning, young one."

You snort softly, scrunching your nose up as you give him an unimpressed side-eye. "Young one? You realize I'm within five years of you? I think you spend too much time with your old padawan and not enough with your peers, Kenobi."

The Jedi chuckles next to you, looking suitably sheepish as he grins over at you. "My apologies, my lady," he says, and you can tell that he's teasing you lightly. You roll your eyes but don't correct him--no, instead you internalize it, and his innocent my lady gets cataloged away with the rest of the impure thoughts that have been plaguing you since you saw him in the great hall upon his arrival. "I meant no offense."

"None was taken."

The conversation sort of just...drifts off, and you take the time to study his features out of the corner of your eye while he's looking ahead. The Jedi is...handsome, and frankly you think it's very unfair of the Order to lock all of that up under a chastity vow. The lines of his face are classical, look like they could have been carved from marble--only accentuated by the scruff of the beard lining a jaw you kind of want to sink your teeth into.

And, Maker. His eyes. The clearest crystal blue, like twin glaciers, piercing directly into your soul every time you meet them but...gentle. Always gentle. You know he's as talented a warrior as he is a negotiator, you've heard the stories, but you would never know it from his pretty eyes.

"What are your plans for the day, Master Kenobi? Since there won't be any official matters taking place today." It's the third day of the week, and on your planet it is considered inappropriate to do such work then. Most of your people will be in services today, to include the royal family. You probably should be, but you had offered to stay behind and continue to assist the Jedi--you've never cared for such things, anyway, and you certainly think he makes for better company.

Kenobi turns his head just enough to give you a small smile before he looks forward again, humming softly as he considers his answer. "I will likely confer with the Council this afternoon, update them on how the negotiations are going. Perhaps I will take some time to meditate, as well. You may have most of the day to yourself." It's quiet for a moment, then: "And you may just call me Obi-Wan, if you wish."

Obi-Wan, Obi-Wan, Obi-Wan--

It does not escape your attention that this isn't an offer that was even extended to your employers, who he's supposed to be here on the sole purpose of brokering an agreement with. They've still been using titles with each other, you know they have. Fuck. "Obi-Wan," you repeat, hoping that it escapes his notice how much you find that you like the way it feels on your tongue. Obi-Wan. "If you find you have the time, later, maybe I could show you around a little more. There are some places on the palace grounds I think you might enjoy."

The Jedi hums again, and you can see that he's still smiling when you look over at him. "I will certainly keep that in mind."

You reach the dining hall only a few minutes later, and go your separate ways once you've gotten your food. You find a seat at one of the far tables tucked into a corner that's already populated by a couple of your fellow staff members, making sure to sit so that you're facing him so he can get your attention if he needs it. You're being elbowed almost the second your ass hits the seat, the girl to your left clearly desperate for whatever gossip she thinks you have as she leans in and whispers at you in hushed tones.

"Maker, you've got a dreamy one. You're so lucky, I was assigned to--"

You're not even listening, not really--tuning her out while you tuck into your breakfast. You suppose you don't have any real right to be so annoyed with her, truthfully, given that you've been having similar thoughts about him yourself all morning and for most of the last couple of days, but you find that you are anyway. The girl doesn't even seem to realize that you're ignoring her, continuing to chatter at you until one of the other people at your table manages to redirect her attention, if not the subject.

You tell yourself that the reason your attention stays focused on the Jedi is in case he needs you for anything but you're not very convincing, even to yourself. Your mind wanders while you eat, formulating scenarios that all seem to end with Obi-Wan between your thighs. Most of these thoughts are generally nonsensical, idle flashes and half-strung together images, but some of them come through with alarming clarity.

I want to suck his cock.

The Jedi suddenly chokes on whatever it is he's just eaten.

You instinctively shift to stand up to try and help him but his companion is already there, smacking his back with more force than you think is probably necessary and laughing loudly enough that you can hear him from your table. Skywalker, you think his name is. He's still chuckling when they settle back down, despite the thoroughly unamused looks Obi-Wan is shooting him. You snort quietly to yourself and Skywalker turns his head to look at you like he can sense your eyes on them. Your eyes meet for a second, two, and then to your horror he winks at you.

Your stomach sinks. No. No, no. No. He's just winking at you because he caught you looking over at them, right? Jedi can't. Jedi can't read minds, right? Surely not. The younger Jedi raises an eyebrow at you, the edge of his lip curving into what can only be called a smirk, and you really. Just need the ground to open up and swallow you whole right here. Maker. You're going to have to work with Obi-Wan for the next couple of days--how the fuck are you supposed to look him in the eyes, now, knowing that he's heard you this entire time?

Breakfast passes both entirely too quickly and not near quickly enough, and before you know it, both Jedi are getting to their feet. You curse quietly under your breath and stand yourself, disposing of your tray before you manage to make yourself walk back over to join them. You still have a job to do, regardless of whether or not you want to dig yourself a nice deep hole to die in right now. You do your best to force a smile once you reach them, really trying your absolute hardest to pretend that none of...that, had just happened. Like you haven't been caught lusting over Obi-Wan fucking Kenobi by the man himself.

Skywalker is the first to speak, that Maker-forsaken grin still plastered firmly in place on his face when he does. "Hello,"

You think he's having entirely too much fucking fun with this, frankly.

Obi-Wan seems to agree with you, if the look he gives his companion then is anything to go by. You swallow, doing your best to reign in your composure as you raise a hand to wave at him in response before turning back to the man you're supposed to be assisting. "Are you--" you pause, clearing your throat before continuing. "Are you ready to return to your rooms?"

Maker. Maker. Why did you have to say--

"Quite," Obi-Wan answers before you can stutter out an apology, giving Skywalker what can only be described as a warning look before he turns back to follow you. Your gaze stays all but permanently affixed to the floor as you start making your way down the hall, the only thing indicating that he's still beside you the sound of his boots on the tile.

You can feel his eyes on you when you reach his door but you still can't bring yourself to meet them, clearing your throat awkwardly and folding your hands behind your back in a bid to stop yourself from picking at your thumbnail from the nervous energy that's suddenly coursing through your body. "I. I hope you have a pleasant rest of your day," you manage to stutter out, taking your leave before he can say anything to stop you.

You end up having a couple of hours to yourself to stew in the privacy of your own room before anyone comes for you.

You groan quietly when you hear the knock at your door but haul yourself to your feet and make your way over anyway, pushing your hair out of your face. You frown minutely when you find one of your coworkers standing there. Kaljova--she's assigned to Skywalker, if you recall correctly. She seems vaguely concerned with the state you're in but is kind enough not to comment on it, giving you a polite smile instead. "Master Kenobi has asked for you," Kaljova tells you, and has the grace to pretend to not notice the way your face falls with it.

"Do you know what he needs?" you ask her, blessedly managing to keep your voice even. You reach down to grab your cloak from the table by your door and tie it around your shoulders without waiting for her to actually answer, stepping out into the hallway and letting your door close behind you.

She shakes her head, shrugging a little bit. "Master Skywalker didn't say, I'm sorry."

You shake your head, sighing softly but giving her a small, reassuring smile. "It's okay. Thank you for letting me know."

She returns your smile and nods once before she turns around and leaves you to your own devices again. You groan quietly, pinching the bridge of your nose as you work up the nerve to actually make your way to the visiting diplomat wing where you know he's waiting for you. It takes you a couple of minutes but you do manage to make your feet move eventually and they carry you there far faster than you'd have liked them to.

You swallow harshly and close your eyes for a second before reaching up to knock on his door, bracing yourself. Maker, he probably wants to talk about it, clear the air or whatever, and you are just...absolutely not even a little bit equipped to deal with that right now, frankly. You're able to school your features as the door slides open but just barely, and you stop breathing altogether when you look up and meet those pretty blue eyes.

And he seems...surprised to see you.

That kriffing--

"You...didn't send for me, did you?"

Obi-Wan shakes his head, looking more confused if possible, and you just sigh quietly, giving him an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry, I think there was a...miscommunication." And I'm going to kill your fucking padawan. "I'll just--I'll just go." You raise a hand in a very awkward not-wave and turn on your heel to go, but then.

The Jedi gently grabs you by the elbow, and everything stops for a moment.

Goddammit.

"Wait," Obi-Wan says, softly--like he's trying not to spook you. You take a deep, stuttering breath, and sigh it out, relaxing where you stand as you give up on getting out of this. "I believe...it would be a good idea, if we talked."

Yeah, that's. That's pretty much what you figured, unfortunately.

"I'm very sorry, if I made you uncomfortable, I...I didn't know you could--" Didn't know you could hear me.

"I know," he tells you, just as gently as before, and you reluctantly turn just enough to be able to face him. His eyes are soft when they regard you, and you find your breathing evening out despite yourself--wondering idly how much of it is actively his doing. "Just...come inside. Please."

You can't find it in yourself to deny him so you nod, letting him lead you into the room and trying to pretend that you can't feel your heart stop when the door slides shut behind you. Obi-Wan seems to notice you not knowing what to do with yourself because he gestures to one of the chairs in the sitting area, sitting down in the one opposite it once you're settled. It's quiet for a moment as both of you seem to search for the right words.

"I would like to begin by apologizing for Anakin," he says finally, and you snort as the words register. He gives you a wry smile in return, and continues. "He means well, but he can be...thoughtless, in his humor, at times. Particularly when it is at my expense."

"He sounds like he must have been a joy to train."

That earns you an almost startled sounding laugh out of the Jedi, which manages to get a real smile out of you. "I fear he may have also misled you, to an extent." He tells you, not quite meeting your eyes now as he scratches at his beard. You give him a questioning look and he sighs softly, leaning back in his chair. "We...can hear thoughts, but only if we go looking and it is considered very inappropriate to do so without reason."

You feel your eyebrows knit together in confusion, then, and you tilt your head at him. "But you…?"

Obi-Wan winces, and nods. "You may have...projected, this morning, inadvertently. It was...rather loud, and my guards were not as firmly in place as they probably should have been."

Oh. So you'd shouted it at him, then. Great. "Oh."

"I had...gotten a sense of the direction of your thoughts, before that, but you were acting very professionally so thought it best to pay it no mind."

That's...very kind of him, actually, to have simply ignored it even though it must have made him uncomfortable, especially when he so easily could have just told you to knock it off or requested a different attache. You clear your throat, finding yourself picking at your thumbnail again. "I appreciate that."

"You needn't be embarrassed, you know." the Jedi murmurs softly, and you look up to meet his gaze despite yourself. He smiles at you a little bit, then, and it brings something very warm into those blue eyes of his that almost makes you just a little lightheaded. "These things happen. You're only human, you can't be expected to have complete control of your thoughts all the time."

"You do," you point out, just because you feel the need to. "Jedi do. So I'm told."

"We spend our whole lives learning to try." he amends, and there's something so human in the way that he grins that suddenly, all you want to do is lean over and kiss him. "It is a constant exercise, not a skill that can be mastered."

"Still. I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable this week."

"Uncomfortable might not be the right word for it, speaking truthfully," Obi-Wan admits, so quietly that you're almost not even sure he's really said it at all. And--Maker, is he implying what it sounds like he's implying? You know your eyes must be just about bugging out of your head with the shock but he mercifully either doesn't notice or pretends not to, scratching at his beard again as he seems to consider his next words, and you...really need him to stop doing that. It's becoming hard enough to maintain your focus as it is. "There were times where I was perhaps...tempted."

You stare at him, blankly, blinking slowly as the words process. Tempted tempted tempted-- "I thought Jedi couldn't…"

Obi-Wan clears his throat, and suddenly he's the one looking unsettled. "Technically, the Code prohibits intimacy, attachment. It...says nothing about the act itself."

Oh. Oh.

You're still staring at him, just completely dumbstruck, so the Jedi seems to decide to take it upon himself to continue talking and fill the space. "For most of us it ends with the same result, functionally, but. Technically."

Maker, get it together. You feel like you're on a several second delay, having great difficulty processing this new information, let alone giving him the verbal response to it that he's clearly waiting for, now. "Have you--"

"Almost. Once. When I was a padawan myself. My master and I were stationed on Mandalore at the time, assigned to protect the Duchess."

You're grinning, now, you can feel it tugging at the edges of your mouth. Maker, you suddenly need to know this story like you need to breathe. "What happened?"

Stars, you swear you can see the tips of his ears turn red. "Qui-Gon caught us. It has...certainly dissuaded me from making any attempts since."

You laugh. You can't help it. Suddenly you're laughing so hard it nearly hurts, grasping your middle with one hand while wiping tears from your eyes with the other. You would feel worse about it if Obi-Wan didn't look so amused himself. "Oh, you poor thing." you snort before your brain can catch up with your mouth, and you feel your own face heat when you realize the implication of what you've just said to him. Way to go, Ace.

Except...he's still grinning at you, amusement dancing in those blue eyes, and all the air seems to rush out of the room when they lock on your own. Kriff. "Are you suggesting that I'm missing out, then?"

He's teasing you, the bastard, and all of sudden it makes you feel bold. You lean forward in your chair, then, resting your elbows on your knees as you encroach on his space and pull your lower lip between your teeth.. "I'm not suggesting anything, Master Kenobi," you all but purr at him, "but should you be interested in finding out for yourself…"

The offer hangs in the air between you, then, like a lit fuse while you just stare at each other, both waiting to see if the other will make the next move.

"And what might this...demonstration...entail?"

"Nothing you aren't completely on board with," you tell him immediately, because if this happens--Maker, if--it is absolutely imperative to you that he enjoys himself just as much as you do. Which...gives you an idea, actually. "I make sure my partners have a good time. Haven't done my job if they don't."

Fuck, the Jedi's eyes are blown. His pupils have nearly overtaken those pretty blue irises and it makes your breath catch with how much you want to ruin him. You can feel the tension rising in the room between you, feeding on and feeding into your arousal in a vicious cycle. He swallows, and you watch his Adam's apple bob with it and narrowly resist the urge to bite him. "Oh?"

Kriff, you need to leave before you fuck him right here and ruin your plans. You give him a small, soft smile and stand, padding over to him. His eyes track each movement, his head tilting back to gaze up at you when you come to stand between his knees, and you can see how ragged his breathing's gone at the sudden proximity. You reach out and let your palm wrap around the line of his jaw, your fingernails scratching lightly through the coarse hairs of his beard, and the Jedi's eyes fall closed before you even lean in. He gasps when your mouth brushes against his own, the faintest whisper of a kiss, and your smile widens. "I think, that you deserve to be seduced properly, Obi-Wan," you breathe. "I'm not going to fuck you, Baby, not just yet. When you really want it--then I'll give it to you."

It takes several seconds before he's able to get words out again, and when he does you can barely hear what he's saying from the rasp in them. "I think, my lady," he pants, "that you are being exceedingly cruel."

You chuckle softly, letting your thumb brush across his lower lip before you straighten up and take a step back, ignoring the almost whine that escapes his throat when you do. "Perhaps."

For the rest of the evening, you act as normal--as if none of the events of the day had taken place. You meet with Obi-Wan and escort him to the dining hall for dinner as usual and go your separate ways once your trays are piled high. You do your best to resist the urge to glare daggers at the other Jedi, particularly when he grins and waves at you, but you are able to content yourself with the sharp look Obi-Wan gives him for it as he sits down. Dinner is uneventful despite Skywalker's best efforts, and passes quickly. You give Obi-Wan this time to...come down, essentially, to gather his wits back about him before you really set your plans into motion in the morning. You had left the Jedi absolutely wrecked this afternoon, and not only do you think it would be just a little unfair to begin your seduction in such a state, you're a little concerned that you might actually kill him if you overwhelm him so much all at once. So, you give him time to breathe.

Or at least, that is your intent.

The sudden drop almost seems to have the opposite effect. Obi-Wan's composure is, outwardly, as impeccable as always. No-one but you and Skywalker--you're sure--would be able to tell that anything's up. The only reason you do is because you still can't take your eyes off him so you notice the way his haven't left you, either. And, Maker, the way he looks at you. You almost want to give in, drag him back to his rooms now, but. You meant it earlier, when you said you thought he deserved better than that. The concept of virginity as a special thing is not one you've ever particularly put much stock in, yourself, but you know that this is, will be, a big deal for him whether he's willing to admit it or not. You want to give him at least this much. He might not be allowed true intimacy or emotional attachment, but that doesn't mean the sex has to be careless. You meant it, when you told him that you take care of your partners.

The next day, you start slow. Obi-Wan is actually fairly busy with the diplomatic mission he'd been sent here on in the first place, which makes that relatively simple. The only time you really get with him that morning is when you're escorting him to and from meetings, so you spend that time finding excuses to touch him. Subtle things, like adjusting already-straight the collar of his robes.

"Good morning, Obi-Wan,"

The Jedi steps out into the hall with you and lets the door close behind him, returning your greeting with an easy grin that makes your heart skip a beat. "Good morning. Where are we off too?"

"You have a meeting with the Chancellor, first. It'll be long and likely boring assuming Skywalker behaves himself, but productive." You give him a soft smile, stepping forward and looking up at him from under your lashes. He watches you intently, almost seeming to stop breathing for a second when you reach up and adjust the tan collar of his robes, your fingertips brushing lightly against the skin of his throat when you do. You let the moment linger a second longer than it needs to before you step back to a respectful distance and nod down the hallway. "Shall we?"

Brushing his hair out of his face when it's fallen into his eyes.

Obi-Wan looks about as tired as you expect him to when he comes out of his meeting a couple of hours later but he has a small smile for you when he sees you waiting for him in the hallway anyway. Skywalker follows him through the door seconds later but barely pays either of you any mind, grumbling something about breakfast as he follows Kaljova down the hall. The two of you stand there for another moment, glancing at each other and chuckling at the younger Jedi's irritation, and you notice idly that some of his blond hair's managed to fall out of place. You reach up to brush it back out of his eyes and bite your lip when they zero in on your own, and you find yourself leaning in further before you can stop yourself only for you to jump apart when the door slides open again. The Chancellor gives you both a polite nod as he takes his leave, completely unaware of what he'd interrupted, and you have to shake your head to clear it once he's out of sight. You can still feel the Jedi's eyes on you when you turn to make your way to the dining hall.

It continues this way, more or less, until lunch, when you decide to kick it up a notch going into the afternoon. You remember what he told you about being able to pick up on your feelings, at least in a general sense, whether he went looking for them or not so you decide to lean into that and let your mind run wild with the things you want to do to him. You're careful not to project any particulars at him this time but you can tell that he definitely takes notice when you start letting your thoughts wander.

You're still sitting in the dining hall at your separate tables, and you smirk lightly when his eyes snap up, watching them narrow when he realizes what you're doing. You maintain that eye contact shamelessly, pulling your lower lip between your teeth as you try to imagine what's waiting for you underneath those robes. Skywalker's glancing back and forth between you and grinning but Obi-Wan ignores him completely, raising an eyebrow in your direction that you merely shrug at. You see him shift slightly in his seat after a little while of this and decide to lay off a bit--for now, at least.

Obi-Wan has to consult with the Jedi Council after lunch so you decide to have some mercy on him immediately leading up to that and take a break from your little game. You're sure he's still aware of the arousal boiling low in your belly while you walk him back to his rooms after lunch but you're not actively focusing on it now, letting yourself relax and the Jedi by extension.

It's during dinner that evening that you really kick it into high gear.

You're not even fully sure this is going to work, since you've only ever done it once and by accident, but watching Obi-Wan converse with Skywalker at their table, you know you want to try. So you focus your attention on the Jedi, and hone in on the thought of what you think it might be like to kiss him until you see him stiffen and you know he's got it. You keep going, feeding him different images that only grow more explicit as you grow bolder. Sucking and biting bruises into the skin of his throat and chest while you grind down against his cock. Looking right into his pretty blue eyes while you stroke that cock, watching him come apart when you finally take it into your mouth like you've wanted to do practically since you laid eyes on him. Riding him, burying your hands in his hair and swallowing his moans while you bounce in his lap.

Obi-Wan grits his teeth across the dining hall, gripping the edge of the table he's sitting at tightly and pointedly not looking at you while he tries to regain control of his breathing. Skywalker is staring at you, wide-eyed and slack-jawed in total shock, and you only smirk back at him in response as you let the projection drop. You didn't necessarily want the other Jedi to see those things, truthfully, but you don't know how to control the projection well enough to block him out and he's been enough of a dick about the whole thing this week that you really don't feel all that badly about the fact that he looks like he kind of wants to bleach his brain, now.

You simply go back to your meal once you've dropped the projection, though you can't help the small grin that stays plastered on your face. The next few minutes pass that way, but then.

But then.

Well, projection goes both ways.

It feels sort of like a tickle, at first, at the edge of your mind--easily ignored. Then it turns into a gentle prodding, and when you look up to confirm your suspicions, his blue eyes are locked firmly on yours and it takes your breath away. He's...being remarkably gentle with you, knowing that no-one's ever been in your head before like this, waiting for you to relax and let him in in a complete roll reversal that shocks you. You barely manage to contain the gasp when you do, because he's suddenly pushing images back at you. Obi-Wan thinks back to how your fingers had felt in his hair this morning, and then reimagines that feeling with you in his lap, tangled in his hair while you kiss him. Then, fuck. With his head between your thighs. He stops and focuses in on this one, imagining as many details as he can manage as he pushes it to you. Your hands pulling on the blond strands while his grip your thighs, holding you open as his tongue laves through the folds of your cunt.

The moment feels like a tipping point, and both of you know exactly what is going to happen once this meal is over.

You're so pent up and aroused when it's finally time to leave that you're lightheaded with it but somehow you manage to get to your feet anyway, and thankfully you don't end up having to deal with Skywalker at all because Obi-Wan is out of his seat first this time and meets you halfway. There's something in the air between you, something tense and charged, and you know you need to get him back to his rooms now. He seems to be on the same page because he wastes no time in following you out of the dining hall, and his strides are longer enough than usual that you actually struggle just a little bit to keep up.

And there's something so…juvenile about this, rushing off and sneaking around, but it's...fun. You feel almost like a teenager again, truthfully, so eager to get him alone somewhere private so you can get your hands on him that you're all but running down the hallway to get there.

You're on the Jedi the moment the door closes behind you but he's right there with you, pulling you in for a kiss that's all enthusiasm and little finesse but heats your blood anyway. Your fingers tangle in his hair as you tug him closer and he moans with it, his own hands finding your face and framing it gently. You run the tip of your tongue along his lower lip and press forward when his mouth opens into it on a gasp, licking into his mouth until he has to pull away to breathe.

Maker, he already looks a mess; beautifully flushed with his hair all askew and his pupils blown wide. It makes you want to do, just, unspeakable things, but you know you still have to take your time and ease him into it or this will all be over too fast and you can't have that.

"Go...go sit on the bed," you murmur, putting a hand on his chest as you step back and take a second to try and get your wits back about you. "Take your boots off. And your cloak."

And, Kriff, he does it immediately, nodding at you with that just fucking wrecked look in his eyes before he turns to do exactly what you told him, laying his cloak over the back of one of the chairs and padding over to the bed where he sits on the edge before leaning over to take his boots off. You watch him the whole time, almost high on the heady feeling that comes with this hyper-competent Jedi Master doing whatever you tell him to.

You take your time in joining him, partially to tease and partially just because you need those extra few moments. His eyes track every movement as you remove your own cloak, laying it next to his as you toe your shoes off, and you give him a small smile as you make your way over to the bed. Obi-Wan's breath hitches when you climb up onto it and seems to stop altogether when you carefully settle yourself on his lap, his hands fisting at his sides until you reach down to take them gently and guide them to your waist. "You can touch me," you purr, running your nose along the line of his jaw and grinning to yourself when his grip suddenly tightens with it. "It's encouraged, in fact."

He snorts quietly, so breathily that you almost miss it, and starts rubbing circles into your sides with his thumbs. "Noted," he rasps, and you grin wider before you press a kiss just under his jaw. The Jedi shivers with it and the reaction emboldens you so you continue downward, pressing kisses along his skin until you reach the collar of his robe and then you're working at the belt of his robes, eager to get at more of his skin. Obi-Wan seems to still have enough presence of mind to help you, shrugging out of the first two layers once you're able to get them open and discarding them to the side carelessly. You reluctantly have to pull back so you can yank his undershirt over his head but then his whole torso is exposed for your viewing pleasure, so you decide you're alright with the short interruption.

"See something you like?" Obi-Wan quips breathlessly after a few seconds of you shamelessly studying every line and pane of his chest and you only smirk at him an answer, leaning back in his lap to get a better view and darting your tongue out to wet your lower lip.

"What are the odds of anyone seeing you without the robes?"

His eyebrows knit together momentarily like he doesn't know what you're asking, but he seems to put the pieces together when you suddenly duck back down and lick a broad stripe along the line of his collarbone. His hips jerk up with a broken moan before he's able to manage an answer, his head tilting back and further exposing his throat. "Un-unlikely," he gasps out, and you're grinning again as you start pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses lower until you find a spot on his pec that pleases you and you stop and suck. The Jedi gasps raggedly, his fingers digging into your waist as he tries to ground himself, but you don't stop until you know a bruise will bloom there. "Something to remember you by?" he hisses, and you chuckle softly as you trace the round little blemish with the tip of your finger.

"Oh, Baby, I don't think you're going to have any difficulty with that with or without a few little...reminders."

Obi-Wan moans again, low in his throat, when you start pressing a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses down his chest, gasping out and trembling the first time you let him feel teeth. His hips buck again and then it's your turn to gasp when his cock rubs right up against your cunt--already so, so hard. And, Maker, it is not a small bulge. What's he hiding under all of those neutral fabrics? You leave a meandering line of bites and hickeys all the way down his chest, ignoring the way he whines when you shift back off of his lap so you can continue down to his stomach. He leans back on his palms, then, watching you intently with dark eyes that make your pussy clench between your thighs, and his breath catches in his throat when your hands find the ties of his trousers. "What are you--"

"Told you I wanted to suck your cock," you remind him, biting your lip as you start undoing them--slowly enough to give him ample opportunity to stop you if he wants. "That alright with you?"

The Jedi nods mutely, suddenly seeming at a loss for words, and you smirk as you sit back on your knees and start pulling them down his thighs until he springs free, and--

Kriff--how fucking dare the Order deprive the galaxy of this magnificent cock?

He's not the longest you've ever seen, per se, but he's thick enough that you almost wonder how you're going to take this thing and beautifully flushed, with defined veins that you just know are going to feel incredible inside you. You lean in to lick a stripe right up the underside of it before you can stop yourself and Obi-Wan cries out at the sudden stimulation and shakes, falling backwards onto his back. You moan softly at the response you pull out of him and lean up until you're able to take the head into your mouth, watching as he squeezes his eyes shut and grips the bedspread until his knuckles go white and unravels. "Watch me," you tell him, taking him in your palm and pumping slowly while you wait for him to respond, "Wanna see those pretty blue eyes."

He forces them open just like you told him to, keeping them trained on you as he bites down on his lower lip and takes a shaky breath and you take him into your mouth again, satisfied. He cries out again but a little quieter this time, and you hum around his cock as you start bobbing up and down on it slowly, almost teasingly so, holding his hips down as best you can so you control the pace. You definitely want to feel him come down the back of your throat at some point, but this isn't the time for that. You have every intent of him coming buried deep inside you tonight.

It becomes something of a game, figuring out exactly what he likes. Hollowing your cheeks to make your mouth tighter around him and moaning until he gasps. Teasing the slit at the top with the very tip of your tongue until you swear you hear him curse. And then you take him to the root.

And, Maker, he swears when he bottoms out and it shouldn't be so insanely hot hearing those words come from this ordinarily so well put-together Jedi but it is. You realize how close he's approaching his end so you reluctantly pull off of his cock, then, ignoring the whine that escapes from high in his throat when you do so. You wipe your mouth with the back of your hand while you try and catch your breath, which is not made any easier by the way he's looking at you. You know you must look just as wrecked as he does, now, all flushed skin and swollen lips, but if you didn't know better you would genuinely think the man was about to eat you alive. "I think, my lady," he rasps finally, after several seconds of staring at each other, "that you may be slightly overdressed."

Kriff. You glance down at the tunic and trousers that you are, in fact, still wearing, before looking up to meet his eyes again. You maintain that eye contact as you sit back up on your knees, pulling your lower lip between your teeth as you slowly start undoing the laces holding the top closed. Obi-Wan watches each movement like it's the most mesmerizing thing he's ever seen, pupils blown so wide they've almost completely obscured the blue. He groans quietly when the tunic slips from your shoulders, his tongue darting out to wet his lower lip when your breasts come into full view. "Is that better?"

He shakes his head mutely, swallowing harshly as he seems to try to gather the words. "I want--may I--kriff, lay back. Please." His gaze follows you closely as you slowly lower yourself down onto your elbows, intensely curious what he's about to do. The Jedi takes a deep breath like he's steeling himself and then he's shifting forward until his body stretches over top of yours, kicking his trousers the rest of the way off in the process, and it's your turn to gasp when you feel his lips brush against the underside of your jaw. He's holding himself up enough that you can't necessarily feel him press against you, but Maker, you can certainly feel the heat coming off of him and his warm breath against your throat. "I believe it's my turn," he murmurs by way of explanation, chuckling softly when your next breath comes out ragged.

"You don't--you don't have to do that," you moan, and Stars--you mean it, you do, especially this first time, but you will be just absolutely fucking inconsolable if he changes his mind right now especially after he went and put the fucking image in your head during dinner earlier.

He doesn't grace that with a verbal response but you're hardly complaining because he starts trailing kisses down the side of your neck instead, and Maker he must have been paying attention when you were doing this to him because you swear he's replicating the technique. "Tell me what you want," he murmurs lowly into the skin of your throat before nipping at it experimentally, listening to you gasp as he keeps talking. "Tell me how to please you, Darling."

His fingers find your nipple before you're able to even begin trying to formulate words and you cry out at the sudden stimulation, arching up into it. "F-Fuck, you're doing a pretty kriffing decent job already," you pant and he chuckles again, running his tongue along your collarbone like you'd done to him and moaning when he gets another ragged gasp for it. "Maker. U-Use your m-mouth,"

You think for a second that he's going to make some smartass comment about how he already is, but mercifully Obi-Wan seems to know what you're asking him for and decides to be kind about it. He continues exploring your breasts with his hand while he returns his mouth to your throat, licking and sucking his way down the column of it until he reaches your sternum where he stops to suck a bruise into the skin. He gets you so worked up by the time he reaches your breasts that you almost don't realize how close he's gotten until those blue eyes are flickering up to meet yours and he's taking your nipple into the blazing hot cavern of his mouth. You open your mouth on a wordless shout and start to writhe under him but he's right there, both hands coming down to your hips to hold you in place as he laves his tongue around the stiffening peak. Obi-Wan focuses his attention on your breast until you're whimpering and then switches to the other, moaning around your nipple when your fingers tangle in his hair.

"You like that, don't you?" you purr down at him, watching the Jedi through half-lidded eyes as he moans again in an affirmative. You pull, then, gently--experimentally, seeing if it's something he'll even like, and then he. Fucking bites you. "Fuck, Obi-Wan!"

"About as much as you liked that," the asshole grins at you impishly as he pulls away from your breast, leaning in to kiss you before you can call him on it. His hands find the top of your trousers once you relax into it, and he leans back to look at you as his fingers dip into the waistband. "May I?"

He starts pulling them down as soon as you nod your consent, sitting back and watching as every inch of skin is revealed until he's removed them completely and he tosses them to the side with the rest of your clothes, leaving you totally bare in front of him. Obi-Wan just...sits there for a moment, taking you in, and you let him, relaxing back against the mattress and smiling up at him.

"Beautiful," he breathes finally, returning your smile with a small one of his own before he's shifting down, keeping his eyes on yours as his lips brush against your hip. He reaches forward and runs one finger through the lips of your cunt lightly, almost teasingly, watching you gasp and try to grind down into it. "Would you like it if I tasted you here, Darling?" Obi-Wan hums, continuing to press kisses along your hip and the insides of your thighs while he waits for an answer and, Maker, the coarseness of his beard against the sensitive skin there robs you of all conscious thought. All you're able to manage is a nod because you're so strung out and you need him there right now but that seems to be enough for him because he starts leaning in, one hand on each of your thighs as he licks a broad stripe right through your cunt.

Stars, you can't even form the words right now to talk him through this like he'd asked, but he...doesn't actually really seem to need your help, here. The Jedi focuses in on your clit right away, swirling his tongue around the little bud before he sucks it into the wet heat of his mouth and you nearly sob at how good it feels. "D-Doing so good, Baby," you manage to get out, and the words almost come out as more of a mewl as he hums around your clit, sending jolts right through you.

You whine in protest when his mouth leaves your clit but his thumb replaces it soon after, rubbing slow circles around it like he's trying to drive you insane on purpose. And then, Maker, his tongue dips into your entrance, licking up inside you while all you can do is sob your pleasure into the air. He keeps going this way for several minutes, steadily working you higher and higher with his tongue buried in your cunt and his thumb strumming your clit until your thighs start to tremble and you feel that coil inside you start to wind tighter. Obi-Wan moans between your legs as when he realizes you're approaching your end and steps up his ministrations, his thumb picking up speed until your back arches underneath him. The orgasm burns its way through you, slow but intense, until you're nearly cross-eyed and delirious with it and he keeps working you through it until you're shaking with overstimulation and pushing his head away.

The Jedi goes willingly when you push him back into a seated position once you've managed to regain your bearings, and Maker, he's a sight like this; his hair just hopelessly disheveled from your fingers in it and your slick coating his chin and kiss-swollen lips. You take a moment to just look at him, committing this image to memory for all of those nights after he leaves when you know you'll look back and picture this with your hand between your thighs. His hands find your hips as you crawl into his lap and settle there, squeezing gently and letting out a soft moan when you lean in to kiss him. Obi-Wan is the one that licks into your mouth this time, mimicking the way your tongue had tangled with his at the start of this until you're moaning into it.

He gasps into the kiss when you reach down between you to take his cock in your hand, stroking it slowly while you shift in his lap and Stars, you swear the Jedi underneath you stops breathing entirely when you line him up and the head of his cock presses right up against your entrance. "Maker, please," he begs then on a broken moan, pulling out of the kiss to catch his breath but leaving his forehead pressed up against yours. He opens his eyes to hold your gaze intently as you start to sink down onto him, crying out at the fucking stretch of it. You take your time taking his cock, both for his benefit and your own, and the slow intrusion into your cunt has you shaking before he even bottoms out.

"Fuck, you feel so f-fucking good,"

And it does. You have to take a minute to adjust once you've taken him to the root before you can move, gripping his shoulders tightly in an attempt to ground yourself, and his hands tighten on your hips in response. The Jedi looks like he might implode if you don't move so you take pity on him, sweeping him into another heated kiss as you roll your hips forward and swallowing his ragged gasp that escapes his throat. You keep the pace slow at first, steady, working yourself open and easing him into the motion and the way your pussy feels wrapped around his cock, and you manage to keep that pace for a few minutes until it becomes too much for both of you.

Obi-Wan's hips buck up at the same time your hips rock forward and you choke on a loud cry, throwing your head back when the head of his cock suddenly hits you right in the sweet spot. He seems to realize that you liked it because he does it again and again, his hands suddenly becoming vices around your hips as he starts thrusting up into you. You keep bouncing in his lap as best you can with his hold on you, meeting him thrust for thrust and Maker, nothing you'd imagined has anything on this. You bury your face in the side of his neck in a pitiful attempt to muffle the sounds that are leaving your throat, sucking and biting at the skin you find there and enjoying the moans you get out of him in return.

You suddenly find yourself on your back with the Jedi above you, swallowing down the gasp that tears out of you as he claims your mouth in a searing kiss. Obi-Wan starts thrusting again immediately as he lets instinct take over, leaning forward on his elbow next to your head to give him better leverage. You nibble on his lower lip as you bring your legs up around his waist, gasping into his mouth when he fucking growls at the feel of your teeth and knotting your fingers in the strands of his hair again. His free hand comes up to cup the side of your face, holding you in place while he kisses the breath from your lungs.

You're not going to last much longer, if the way your cunt is already starting to tighten around him is anything to go by. He shifts his hips just slightly, down and to the side, and you almost scream when he manages to find an angle that has the head of his cock hitting your sweet spot straight on at the same time as the warm skin of his torso brushes against your clit on each thrust in. Fuck, fuck, fuck, how did he get the hang of this so fast? He's going to kriffing kill you, if he keeps this up. "Stars, Obi," you sob out, "I'm gonna--"

The Jedi presses one last firm kiss to your mouth before he's pulling back to watch you fall apart, his hand leaving your face and moving down your body until he's stroking your aching clit with his thumb again, rubbing it in fast, small circles like he's learned you like it as he continues fucking into you like it's the last thing he'll ever do. "Right behind you, Darling," he grits out, his voice coming strained and wrecked and you know he means it. It only takes one, two, three more thrusts before you just fucking shatter, crying out into the air and trembling as the orgasm obliterates you. He follows not half a dozen thrusts later, burying his face in your neck and gasping as he fills you with everything he has, his hips still pumping lazily as he comes down.

Eventually, the Jedi collapses down on the bed next to you, reaching over to brush some of the hair out of your face and giving you a dopey grin that's such a wild juxtaposition from his usual composure and his reputation that it makes you giggle, unable to help yourself. He raises an eyebrow at you playfully but it only makes you laugh harder, shaking your head. "Maker," you breathe, finally, because you can't seem to string together anything else. Obi-Wan chuckles next to you and reaches over to pull you back into his chest, burying his face in your hair while he tries to catch his own breath. "You are...a very quick study. Maker."

You can't see him grin, but you can hear it in his voice when he speaks again. "I'm glad you're pleased," he teases, and you only roll your eyes before letting yourself fully relax against him. Your eyes start to droop but you don't have the energy to fight to keep them open, and you end up falling asleep right there in his arms.

He lets you.

You wake up the next morning almost unbearably warm, and when you go to try and sit up, you find that you can't. You freeze as a half-baked realization suddenly comes over you, hesitantly cracking your eyes open.

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. Oh, kriff.

You fell asleep here last night. In the Jedi's bed. With the Jedi. He, it turns out, is the reason that you can't move. Obi-Wan's got both arms wrapped tightly around your middle, holding you against his chest with his legs tangled up with yours, and Maker you would never have pegged this man for a cuddler but you couldn't be more wrong, apparently. It does, however, create quite an interesting problem for you.

This is his last morning here before he leaves to return to Coruscant. He and Skywalker are supposed to leave early, before even breakfast. Skywalker will, doubtlessly, be coming around to see what's what's holding his old master up, and soon--and you are still here.

Where you are. Definitely. Not supposed to be.

You don't know how much time you have but you know that it isn't much. You have got to get out of here before Obi-Wan's pain in the ass prior padawan shows up, and the Jedi looks so peaceful like this that you kind of wish you could just let him sleep but you really don't want to just sneak out on him after last night. So you sigh, reaching up to shake his shoulder gently. "Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan, we have to get up."

It doesn't take much to wake him, thankfully, and he lets go of you to prop himself up on his elbow as he rubs the sleep out of his eyes. "What's wrong?" he asks, his voice still hoarse from sleep as he peers down at you, not quite as surprised to see you there as you'd have maybe expected him to be.

You don't even get a chance to answer him because there's suddenly a knock on the door, and both of your eyes widen at it. Skywalker. "Obi-Wan?"

Fuck, fuck, fuck, where the fuck are your clothes? You're out of the bed before Obi-Wan even has a chance to stop you, frantically trying to find your clothes and put them on. You toss his trousers at his chest when you come across them and that seems to be what finally spurs him into motion, standing up so he can get them on as he calls back to the other Jedi. "What is it, Anakin?"

There's a moment of confused silence, then: "Cody's landing the transport now."

Obi-Wan opens his mouth like he's about to tell his old padawan that he'll be out momentarily, but doesn't get a chance to get the actual words out before you both hear the hiss of the door starting to slide open. Thank the Maker, you just manage to get your tunic back on before Skywalker comes into sight, and you do your best to try to look fucking normal as his eyes flicker between you but your heart fucking stops when you glance to the left of you and realize that Obi-Wan still isn't wearing a fucking shirt. His entire chest is exposed, which means that all of the marks you left scattered across it are also exposed. Fuck, fuck, fuck--

"I'll just. I'll just see you on the transport."

Skywalker is gone before either of you can react, the door sliding shut behind him. Your next breath leaves your lungs with enough force that it's almost a wheeze, and you have to bend over and put your hands on your knees for a second while you try to process what the fuck just happened. Obi-Wan blinks next to you, looking directly ahead for a second or two more before he suddenly starts chuckling, and you stare at him incredulously. "I'm sorry," he says finally, "That was just…"

You're laughing too, then, shaking your head as you step back over to him, ducking down to grab his shirt from where you can see it on the floor. You place the fabric in his hands and lean up on your toes to press a light kiss to his cheek, giving him a small smile. "Until next time, Master Kenobi?"

He gives you a small smile in return, and surprises you a little bit when he leans in himself and presses a soft kiss to your lips. "Until next time."

Mercifully, no-one questions him when Obi-Wan finally makes it to the transport. He intentionally doesn't look at Anakin even though he can feel the other man's eyes on him as he finds his seat and sits down, straightening his robes. He finds it difficult to keep the smile completely off his face so he just ducks his head instead in the guise of settling in for the flight and studiously ignores the way Anakin is still staring at him.

"How was your trip, General?" Cody asks, leaning around in the pilot's seat to look back at him once they've left the planet's atmosphere. Obi-Wan opens his mouth to answer but Anakin's there first, suddenly grinning ear-to-ear in a way that makes him distinctly uncomfortable.

"Oh, the General had a wonderful time." the younger man drawls, looking him right in the eyes as he does, and Obi-Wan wonders not for the first time if Qui-Gon died and left Anakin in his care as some inhumane form of punishment. "Made significant strides with relations and learned a lot, I'm sure."

"Oh, well, that's good, Sir." Cody responds, and Obi-Wan really dearly hopes he's as unaware of the insinuation as he sounds. Cody really does not need to know these things. Anakin does not need to know these things. "I'm glad your mission was productive."

Anakin opens his mouth like he's going to say something else but closes it abruptly and grins instead when Obi-Wan glares at him and shakes his head slowly in warning. "Thank you, Cody." Obi-Wan says instead, leaning back in his seat and letting his eyes close as he tries to relax. Maker, he can still feel the effects of the night before, his muscles are more sore than he would have expected and he finds that he's very aware of the bruises you'd left behind and it's...strangely pleasant.

He's not allowed to have emotional attachments, but. He kind of does hope that he'll see you again one day anyway. Until next time, Master Kenobi.

#obi-wan x reader #obi-wan kenobi x reader #Obi-Wan Kenobi #Obi-Wan #reader fic #reader insert #star wars #star wars fanfiction #star wars fic #star wars prequels #fic #fanfiction #merlyn posts

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petri808 · 3 years

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Inukag Royalty Au

A few months passed by comfortably and Kagome felt settled into her new role. She felt so much happier than she’d been in a long time, enough to rarely think about what brought her there in first place. Being a Lady in Waiting came with responsibilities, but Rin never felt like work. If anything, Kagome treated her like her own daughter or thought of her as the little sister she never had. Maybe even a bit too comfortable... If she wasn’t with Rin, she was with Inuyasha. They talked a lot and a crush had developed. She could tell he liked her too, but they both knew it wouldn’t work because he believed she was just a servant, and he was already spoken for. So, Kagome did her best to push away those sadder feelings and focus on the positives. She was in a safe environment, happy, and living freer than ever. It wasn’t worth stressing over.

“Where’s Rin?” Inuyasha asked Kagome when he found her sitting in the garden alone at mid-morning.

“Oh, hello Inuyasha.” Kagome looked up from her book. “This morning Rin decided to go with her mother to the neighboring city for shopping. They told me I didn’t need to accompany them, kind of like a mother, daughter fun day, I assume.”

“So that means you’re free right now?”

“I guess you could say that,” she chuckled. “They’ll probably be back around dinner time.”

“In that case, would you like to join me for a horseback ride? You haven’t had a lot of chances to see the surrounding areas, right?”

“No, I haven’t. But I guess Buyo wouldn’t mind getting out of the stable either. He hasn’t been worked much lately since I’d arrived.”

“Then it’s settled.” Inuyasha held out a hand to help her to her feet. “We can grab some lunch from the market before heading out.”

Within the hour, the pair were on horseback trotting along the road that led away from the castle city. There were a few areas close by that Inuyasha thought Kagome would enjoy seeing. For him it was days like this when he could forget that he was a Prince and just enjoy life. The woman had truly brought out a new side of him and it wasn’t going unnoticed, but so far, the palaces gossip mill didn’t dare to make it publicly known. It had steadily grown harder and harder to remember life before Kagome’s arrival and Inuyasha didn’t want to think about the day he’d have to leave her behind for some Princess he didn’t even know. Ugh! Before Kagome, he’d accepted his fate subserviently to his fathers will, but now, the frustration grew like a weed in his heart. He’d rather die alone at home, in the castle with Kagome around then be married in an unfamiliar kingdom on a loveless throne.

“Where’s Miroku?” Kagome asked after some time. “Isn’t he supposed to be with you when you leave the castle?”

“Yeah…” Inuyasha smirked with a glint in his eye. “But I ditched him. He’s probably still looking for me,” he laughed. “Wouldn’t want a third wheel when I’m with you.”

The comment brought a blush to Kagome’s cheeks as the man’s tone hinted more than an innocent rambling. “Oh…” she ducked her head in embarrassment. “It is nicer without anyone else around. So, um, where are we going?”

“There’s a pond,” Inuyasha pointed in a general direction. “It’s not much farther, with a small waterfall where we can relax and eat our lunch.”

“That does sound really nice! I’ve never seen a waterfall before,” she sheepishly admitted.

“Wow… you really haven’t seen much, have you?”

“Let’s just say I was… sheltered for most of my life.”

“Because you’re a girl?”

“Yeah, they wouldn’t let me go anywhere by myself.”

“I see. So, after they passed away you decided to do the opposite?”

“I know it’s odd for a woman to travel alone, but I didn’t have anyone to turn to and I just… needed to get away.”

Inuyasha leaned back a little in his saddle using his legs to steady himself. “I can completely understand that. Everyone wondered why I used to be so irritable before Rin came along. She gave me a reason to stick around, but I really don’t enjoy being a prince.”

“You don’t?” Kagome spoke slowly to hide the tremble in her tone. It was nice to hear someone else unhappy with that kind of life.

He shook his head. “So many rules and traditions to follow. Everyone thinks our life is easy but the pressures… and being told what to do, being watched constantly— I hate it and then the whole arrangement—… never mind.” His ears folded back as he glanced skyward. “What I wouldn’t give to be free from all of it.” He turned to look at her. “Like you— oi, did I say something wrong?” Inuyasha questioned when he saw the moisture filling Kagome eyes.

“No, no,” she shook her head and smiled. “I get it. Freedom to choose how we’ll live our lives is just, such a wonderful thing.”

Ever have a sense of connection while time stood still? Just for moment as the pair trotted side by side, their eyes holding a gaze like the world could fall away at any moment, but it wouldn’t be noticed. Inuyasha didn’t know how, and despite coming from such different worlds this woman… he knew she spoke the truth. She was feeling the same longing emotions as he was, the same which had driven her to leave home. What a strength to possess in standing up to traditions! Inuyasha let out a held breath. Kagome truly was one of those once in a lifetime meeting, he’ll never find again. If only…

Inuyasha snapped out of the daydream when he realized they’d reached their destination. “F-follow me, it’s right through this tree line.”

He led them through a thicket of trees with the sounds of moving water guiding him towards the source. This hidden gem was easy to miss from the road, but it made for a perfect hideaway. Inuyasha would sometimes slip away from the castle and go there whenever he was upset. Not even Miroku knew about it and the prince wanted to keep it that way for as long as possible. They tethered the horses near the water on a patch of grass, before finding a flat rock outcropping to sit down. Inuyasha then laid out a blanket he’d brought, and Kagome unpacked a travel basket of food.

“This really is a beautiful place,” Kagome commented. “Thank you for showing it to me.”

“You’re welcome. I’m just glad you like it.”

Kagome stretched out her legs and held herself up with her arms behind her relaxing and listening to the sounds around her. The pond was maybe four or five horse lengths from one side to the other, with a short waterfall that fed the pond, but it had no visible outlet. Perhaps it was connected to an underground stream that came out elsewhere. Not that she cared about such details. What mattered was the serenity of the area, so calming, soothing, the gentle rumbles of the waterfall, the birds in the trees, even the frogs croaking, or water bugs buzzing around in a strangely harmonious cacophony. As they ate their lunch amidst this entertainment, she couldn’t help but think about coming back here again.

“I bet Rin would love this place,” Kagome sighed in contentment.

“She probably would, if I was willing to share it with anyone else.”

She turned her head and was about to respond when she realized what Inuyasha was insinuating. “Oh… so no one else knows about this place?”

Inuyasha shook his head no. “Just me and you. Only special people allowed,” he smiled.

As she adjusted her body to sit up, Kagome’s voice quieted with hopeful undertones. “You think… I’m special?”

“Kagome, look at the effect you’ve had on my entire family. Rin loves you. My parents think you’re great, even Kagura likes you and that says a lot. It’s pretty clear that you’re a very special person.”

“Ah, I see,” Kagome breathed out a sigh mixed with relief as well as disappointment. “Everyone has been very nice to me, and I’m blessed to have been so accepted.”

Inuyasha didn’t respond immediately and when Kagome glanced up to look at him, she noticed he was staring at the water with a serious, almost pained expression. His brows were slightly furrowed, and jaw tightened. Should she say something? Maybe he was thinking and wouldn’t want to be interrupted. Minutes ticked by, but the prince kept his eyes trained on the water. So, Kagome pulled her knees up and rested her arms on them to wait, letting the scenery pull her back into a daydream.

It frustrated Inuyasha that he kept having to reign in his emotions like this. He wanted to just tell her the truth, not cover it up with truthful lies. His family did love her, just not in the way he was beginning to. She was special to him, but it would be wrong to lead her on when there was no hope of developing anything more. He’d do anything to make her happy and feel special every single day for the rest of her life. Finally, after several awkward minutes, he spoke up. “Someone like you deserves the world Kagome, and if I could give it to you, I would.”

The comment made Kagome’s heart melt, for she knew those words were coming from his own. Now she understood the turmoil lying just below the surface but appreciated Inuyasha trying to keep things platonic for both their sakes. She smiled softly as she fidgeted with her fingers. “I know you would, Inuyasha, and I’d do the same for you if I could. These past few months have made me happier than any other time in my life, but even if this is all I get, I’ll still cherish the memories.”

Inuyasha let out a drawn-out exhale, his head hung, and ears drooped. “And I still wish things could be different. Fate sucks sometimes.”

Kagome surprised him by reaching over and placing her hand over his. “Let’s focus on the good stuff while we can.” She genuinely smiled although behind it there was a hint of sadness to it. “At least we got to meet each other, and we get to enjoy moments like this one. That’s something no one can ever take away from us.”

He flipped his hand over and took hold of hers, giving it a small squeeze. “I don’t know how you do it,” Inuyasha chuckled quietly. “But I know you’re right. For you, I’ll hold out hope that things will work out the way they’re supposed to.” And he meant it. Anything to keep a smile on Kagome’s face.

Once Inuyasha noticed the sun had moved halfway towards the horizon, they decided it was time to head back to the palace. The pair trotted out of the tree line but pushed the horses into a light gallop after making it back to the main road. It was fun, albeit disruptive to Kagome’s hair as it came undone and flowed behind her. Inuyasha had to hold back his admiration because she simply looked breathtaking like that. They slowed down as they neared the castle gate and he instantly saw a very annoyed Miroku standing next to his horse waiting for them.

“Where the hell have you been!” Miroku flailed his hands at the prince. “Are you trying to get me in trouble?!”

Refusing to acknowledge the man’s tirade, Inuyasha just rolled his eyes. “What’s the big deal. Did my dad come looking for me or something?”

“No—”

Inuyasha cut him off. “Then where’s the fire? What’s got you so damn riled up?”

“Because it was only a matter of time. And what are you doing with Ms. Tanaka?” Miroku questioned with an accusatory tone.

“Look, she hasn’t seen much more than the castle, so I took her out riding. Nothing wrong with that, so don’t be projecting your sick perverted mind on me,” Inuyasha growled back. “Now are you done grilling me cause we’d like to be on our way.”

“One more thing.” Miroku moved closer so he could keep his voice low. “A visiting King from a small kingdom will be here by dinner time, so your father may call on you to greet the guest.”

“What king?”

“Naraku, from the Komorigumo kingdom.”

“The creepy one?”

“Yeah, that one. He’s supposedly just passing through for the night on his way to the coastal port city and stopped out of respect.”

“I never did trust that guy.”

“Neither does your father, so that’s why he’ll probably ask you to greet him and keep an eye on him.”

“Alright… thanks,” Inuyasha mumbled. “Now if you don’t mind?”

“Not at all.” Miroku then winked at Kagome. “Ma’am.”

“Mr. Hoshii,” she nodded her head.

“Okay, okay, that’s enough,” Inuyasha grumped and drove his horse forward. “We should get inside.”

“Okay,” Kagome responded and followed along.

After putting away their horses, the pair parted ways. Kagome went straight to her room to freshen up before Rin arrived home and Inuyasha went looking for his father. He wanted to find out if there was more to this visit than Miroku had known about, because King Naraku had a sullen and untrustworthy reputation. It was customary for visiting guests to stay in the palace, but Inuyasha wondered if they should increase the guards or put them on alert for mischief. He found the Inutaisho in his war room, but after several questions, Naraku’s visit appeared to be for a benign reason, just like Miroku stated. But he still didn’t trust the man.

“Fine,” Inutaisho acquiesced. “I’m not increasing the guards but have them instructed to watch for anything suspicious or unusual and to notify you immediately if they come across something.”

“Thanks, I’ll make sure it’s done. Oh, will Naraku be at dinner?”

“Yes.”

“Make sure he’s on the opposite side of the table from Ms. Tanaka. Wouldn’t want him making her uncomfortable.”

“Inuyasha, I still think you’re being paranoid.”

“Better paranoid and be wrong, then miss something and bad things happen.”

Inutaisho laughed. “I guess I can’t fault that logic too much. See you at dinner son.”

With Miroku’s help, the palace guards and staff were put on notice under the guise of simply being on the alert with such a high-profile guest at the palace. When King Naraku arrived shortly before dinner, Inuyasha merely watched from the dining room doorway as his father and brother greeted the fellow king. His concern was intercepting Rin and Kagome as they arrived for dinner to make sure they avoided contact.

“Uncle Inu!” Rin bounced up and hugged him.

He picked her up, holding her with one arm. “Did you have fun shopping?”

“Yeah! I got some pretty new dresses!”

“That’s awesome,” Inuyasha smiled. “And good evening Ms. Tanaka.”

“Good evening, your highness.”

“Due to a guest, the normal seating has been slightly rearranged,” he gestured for her to follow him. “I’ll show you both to your seats.”

“That’s kind of you,” Kagome smiled and did as she was told.

As the trio walked through the dining room. Inuyasha kept his side gaze trained on Naraku to see how he would react to an unfamiliar face. The man was already seated next to his father and brother chatting, but clearly aware of their entrance. For just a brief second Inuyasha swore Naraku was staring hard at Kagome but caught himself quickly once he saw Inuyasha looking in his direction and pretended not to notice Kagome at all. ‘Weird,’ Inuyasha thought to himself. With human curiosity it’s normal to react to a new face, but not to ignore, especially a pretty one like Naraku had just done. He knew he couldn’t say anything out loud about it, so he just stayed observant.

The rest of dinner went without incident until the Inutaisho invited Naraku to join he and Sesshomaru in another room for more official business. Inuyasha watched carefully as the three men left the room, but just outside of the door and his hearing, he saw Naraku stop his personal guard and whisper something in the man’s ear. The guard then glanced back at the dining table where the rest of them were still seated, and yet again he could have sworn the men were looking at Kagome!

Inuyasha leaned over and whispered to Kagome. “Once you put Rin to bed, stay in your room and keep the door locked.”

“Is something wrong?” She whispered back. “Is it because of who you and Miroku was talking about earlier?”

“Yeah. I’m probably just being paranoid, but he just gives me really bad vibes.”

“O-Okay. Sure, I’ll just stay in my room reading.”

“Good.”

The following morning, Inuyasha woke up early to watch Naraku and his entourage leave. According to Miroku, no incidents were noticed, so he could breathe a sigh of relief. Perhaps he had been a little paranoid… that is until his father mentioned something. Naraku had asked the Inutaisho about Kagome before leaving. Inuyasha’s father assured his son that it was just an innocent question since Rin had a different attendant the last time the foreign king had visited. Innocent or not, why would Naraku care about a servant? Inuyasha chalked it up to the fact Kagome was a beautiful woman, so it must have just gained that kings attention. But since nothing more came from it, he filed it away in the back of his mind for future reference.

#inukag #inukag au #inukag fanfiction #inukag fan fic #inukag fan fiction #inuyasha #Kagome higurashi #royalty au #ch 4 #the irony of fate #petri808

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justahopelessssromantic · 4 years

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A/N: Thank you all so much for all the love on this story! It really means so very much to me! I’m so excited to share more with you ❤️ Here’s part 2! I hope you enjoy and please let me know what you think ☺️

Angel never really knew about Monica growing up. Sure they grew up in the same town but with the five year difference between them he never really knew who she was, that was until he began prospecting for the Mayans MC.

The first time he saw her he couldn't take his eyes off her. She was beautiful and he swore his heart skipped a beat when she looked his way and smiled but maybe that was just his inner hopeless romantic talking.

He wanted to ask her out, hell all the prospects did and Taza knew that. It was like he could read their minds or maybe it was just because this wasn't the first group of prospects who had their eyes on the Mayan's princess.

Stepping up behind them he clapped Angel and Gilly on the shoulders holding them tight. "Beautiful isn't she?" He never gave them a chance to answer. "I know what you're thinking, don't. She's off limits boys. Now get back to work." He finished with giving them a shove in the direction of the line of the bikes to be washed.

Angel wasn't stupid. He knew to listen to the older Mayan. If he wanted any chance of becoming a full patched member then he had to focus on the club and try to keep his mind off her, but damn was that hard.

It became a little easier once Derek entered the picture. Monica fell hard and fast for him, Angel could see why, he was a great guy. He treated her well and respected the club. He was good to her and that’s all he really cared about. Then seemingly out of nowhere they had broken up. Monica never spoke about what happened between them but Angel could tell whatever it was wasn't good.

It was only about a little over a year after that that Monica got pregnant. She never told anyone who the father was no matter how much they asked. All she told them was that it didn't matter, she was determined to raise her on her own.

She had the club to help support her, that was enough.

After a while everyone just stopped asking. It didn’t really matter in the end anyways. Soon it wasn’t even a thought. Maddie had her mother, grandfather, and she had all her tios within the club. Maybe she didn’t have a conventional family but she did have a family who loved her and would lay their life down for her.

That’s all anyone really needs.

Angel just finished his shift at the scrapyard for the day. He traded his work shirt for his kutte on his way to the clubhouse. He got to the door just before Monica and Maddie as they just arrived. Holding the door open for them he entered behind them.

“Thank you Angel!” Maddie smiled back at him before running off towards Hank, Bishop, and Taza sitting in the back of the room.

Angel smiled watching Maddie run off. He glanced over to find Monica doing the same thing. God, was her smile breathtaking. He then glanced down to the purple backpack in Monica’s hands. He nodded down to it once she turned her attention to him. “Maddie staying with Hank tonight?”

“Yeah she is, It’s just easier for party planning.” She explained. And she had her blind date tonight but she didn’t want everyone to know that. Monica placed the bag down onto the table besides them making sure Hank saw where she placed it. “I’d love to stay and hang out but I really better get going. I told Vicky I was going to stop by before heading home to check out the cake.”

Gilly was listening in to the conversation from where he was behind the bar. “You’re leaving already? Can’t you at least stay for one drink?” He pulled out a beer waving it at her. He could usually convince her to stay for one.

“No, unfortunately I can’t. Next time I will.” She promised. Gilly pouted making a show of it as he cracked open the beer for himself. Monica rolled her eyes laughing before reaching for the door knob which Angel had already had being one step ahead of her.

“I’ll see you tomorrow Maddie.” She called out to Maddie who was now playing cards with Riz. “You be good for grandpa and make sure you keep these guys out of trouble.”

“Okay!” Maddie called back with a grin. “Love you!”

“Love you too!” She called back blowing her a kiss which Maddie dramatically caught.

Angel opened the door for Monica seeing her out. He followed her to the steps where he stopped to light up a cigarette He watched her walk away just as Coco pulled back into the yard. Coco gave her a nod and she gave him a wave as they crossed paths.

Coco parked his bike and slipped his helmet off shaking out his hair with his hands a little after doing so. He met Angel on the top of the steps who had a cigarette extended towards him.

“Everything good?” Angel asked him. He watched Coco light up his cigarette and take a drag before he answered.

“Yeah, everything’s good.” Coco replied plainly. He just got back from the other side with the rebels.

“Good.” Angel nodded, taking another drag of his own cigarette.

The two leaned against the railing looking out around their home. They both knew getting involved with the rebels was risky but it was a risk they would have to take for their club, their family.

****

Monica watched Vicky leaning against the counter as she smoothed the white icing around the cake. Vicky was making a special unicorn cake with blues, pinks, and purple colors for Maddie’s birthday. One thing many people didn’t know about her was she was an excellent cake decorator and made the very best cakes in town. She was also just an excellent baker in general.

Monica smiled watching her in awe. “That looks amazing Vicky. Maddie is going to love it.”

“She better.” Vicky teased. She finished smoothing it out before stepping back to admire her own work.

Next to the cake was a tray of vanilla cupcakes, some with purple icing and some with pink icing. Reaching over Monica grabbed for one of the purple ones earning a swat to her hand.

“Don’t even think about it. Those are for the party and you know better.” Vicky scolded her. Sometimes she still saw that little girl from all those years ago.

Monica pouted. “Can’t I just have one? Please.” She begged, folding her hands together.

Vicky rolled her eyes. “Some things really never change.” She mumbled under her breath. Taking the cupcake Monica was after she handed it to her. “Fine, just the one.”

Monica peeled the wrapper away. “That’s all I wanted.” She happily took a bite giving a moan of approval as she sat back. “This is delicious.”

“I know.” Vicky smirked.

Monica sat enjoying her cupcake as her mind began to wonder. The other night’s conversation with Maddie kept finding its way into her mind. She looked down at the cupcake for a few moments fiddling with the paper around it. Sighing, she looked back up at Vicky.

Vicky wiped her hands off on a wet washcloth. She sat down next to Monica placing her hand on her shoulder, she knew that look. “What’s wrong baby?”

“Maddie asked me about her father last night.” She blurted.

“Well you knew this day would come eventually. You and Coco both knew that.”

Vicky was the one and only person who Monica told about Coco being Maddie’s father. Vicky was like a mother to her, she always knew she could trust her with anything. She needed just one person to know and there wasn’t anyone else she would have rather shared with. It was only right, Vicky was the one who was there for her for everything while she was pregnant.

“Yeah, we did.” She knew that. “I was just hoping I would have a little more time I guess.”

“That’s the wonder of children.” Vicky laughed lightly, “They always keep you on your toes, making you deal with things you don’t want to or don’t think you are ready for.”

She had that right.

“Ooh cupcakes!” Lydia came in behind the two diverting their attention from the conversation to her. She grabbed a cupcake for herself grinning.

Vicky smacked her arm playfully. “You two can’t wait one day?”

Monica and Lydia made eye contact before bursting out in laughter. “Nope." They said in unison.

Lydia and Monica became fast friends when Lydia first started working for Vicky. The connection was instant between them. It was as if they had been friends forever. Vicky used to tease them for being inseparable.

“Vicky these are the best things I’ve ever tasted.” Lydia said through a mouthful.

“Thank you.” Vicky smiled leaning into Lydia’s kiss to her cheek. “You two flatter me.”

“I keep telling you you should open your own bakery. People would pay good money for these.” Monica held up her cupcake motioning to the cake beside them. She scooped some frosting on her finger.

“And I keep telling you I don’t want to kill my hobby by trying to profit from it. I love it too much to do that to it.” Vicky looked back at the beautiful cake. “Getting to bake for my family is good enough for me. I love being able to share with you all and getting to see your smiles, that’s payment enough for me.”

“Well Maddie does have the most rewarding smile. You’re sure to get that tomorrow.” Monica always thought Maddie had Coco’s smile. Every time she smiled it would take her back a minute. “It’s a shame it’s all going to be destroyed tomorrow.”

“That’s what pictures are for!” Lydia piped in after she finished her cupcake tossing the wrapper. “Thank you so much for the treat Vicky and the company ladies. I’m afraid better get going though.” Brushing her hands off she then gave Vicky a hug before Monica. “I’ll see you two tomorrow.”

“You’re not working tonight?” Monica asked before she could get far. As far as she knew Lydia had to work tonight. That’s why she couldn’t help Monica with party set up tonight.

Lydia cursed herself. Putting on a smile she quickly found an excuse. “I did but then Candace wanted to trade the nights with me. I guess she has to take her mother out of town to a specialist on Monday.” It was complete bulshit and Vicky knew that. Lydia tried to keep her eye contact on Monica and not look to Vicky. “I can still come over tonight if you want.” Lydia offered knowing she really couldn’t. She hoped Monica would pass her up on that offer.

“No, that’s okay.” Monica gave her a smile. She would much rather ditch Luke for Lydia but she wasn’t going to be that person. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Have a good night Lydia.”

“You too.” Lydia blew a kiss in their direction before disappearing out of the kitchen.

Vicky watched Lydia through the doorway until she was completely out of sight. When she turned back to Monica Monica had her arms crossed and eyebrow raised.

“Are you going to tell me what’s going on there? Because I know for a fact Candace didn’t ask Lydia to switch.” She just talked to Candace the other day. Her mother was doing fine. She would have said something but she wasn’t wanting a confrontation with her tonight.

“What do you think it’s about? It’s a man, like always with her.” Vicky tried to wave it off.

“She hasn’t said anything to me about a man.” Monica frowned. She thought she and Lydia shared everything.

“That’s because she doesn’t want you to know because she knows you wouldn’t approve.” Vicky didn’t even approve of Michael but trying to talk sense into the young vibrant girl was impossible.

Monica huffed sitting back. “Well if I wouldn’t approve then she knows she shouldn’t be wasting her time.”

“She’s in love Monica, you know what that’s like.” Vicky didn’t approve but she also knew she couldn’t police who her girls spent time with off the clock.

“In love?! Fuck, how long has she been seeing this guy?” Lydia couldn’t be in love. She would have said something to Monica. Monica would have noticed some change, she would have. “Who is this guy?”

“He’s a client. A pretty, rich boy.” Vicky had met Michael plenty of times as he came through. He started off as a regular with Sierra, then he started seeing Lydia and made it a point to only come to her. Shortly after Lydia started seeing him outside of work. It was a disaster waiting to happen in Vicky’s opinion. She tried to warn Lydia but she just didn’t want to listen. “She’s been seeing him outside of work about a couple of months now.”

Monica let out a bitter laugh. “A client? Of course he’s a client.” She huffed rolling her eyes.

“I know, trust me I know.” Vicky sighed. She grabbed Monica’s hand in hers. “Now isn’t the time to lecture her. I already tried.”

“She’s gonna get hurt and I’m gonna be the one left cleaning up the mess.” Monica muttered. It wouldn’t be the first time Monica had picked Lydia back up after a man broke her heart.

“She’s very lucky to have you.” Vicky tried to comfort her and gave her a warm smile.

Monica glanced back at the clock on the wall behind Vicky. She didn’t have time for this. “There’s nothing I can do about it now plus I really need to go or I’m going to be late.” She stood from her seat followed by Vicky.

“Late?” Vicky asked, quirking an eyebrow.

“I may have a date tonight.” Monica said quietly looking at her feet. She looked back up to Vicky who was standing there with the biggest smile on her face. “You can’t tell anyone.”

“You never have to worry about that.” Vicky grabbed Momica’s arm as they walked towards the front. “So, a date? With who?”

“Alex set me up on a blind date. If I didn’t agree I’m sure the next step for her would be to sign me up for Tinder and there is no way in hell that is happening. The last thing I want is to see all the guys from the club on there.” Monica laughed. She didn’t know if any of the guys had Tinder but it wouldn’t surprise her. “Or for them to see me on there. His name is Luke, he’s handsome.” They stopped at the door and Monica showed Vicky a picture of Luke that Alex had sent her.

“He’s not just handsome he’s hot.” Vicky smirked holding the phone so she could get a closer look. “Where are you going?”

“Just the cute little italian place downtown.” The restaurant was casual enough but also nice enough for a first date. Not too much but just right, at least that was what Alex said.

“And what are you going to wear?”

Monica chewed on her lip. She hadn’t exactly thought that far ahead. “Um, I’m not sure.”

“Wear that little black dress you picked up the last time we went shopping.” Vicky suggested. “And the gold hoops I gave you for your birthday.”

Monica smiled giving Vicky a hug. “Thank you.” She mumbled into the embrace.

Vicky held her tight a moment before pulling back holding her a little longer as she took in the beautiful young woman before her. She was proud of Monica for actually going out on the date. “Good luck, he’s not gonna know what hit him when he sees you.”

Monica’s cheeks heated up as she smiled. Her confidence about the date improved a little with Vicky. She always knew just what to say to her to make her feel more at ease in any situation. “Thank you mom.” She murmured leaving a kiss to Vicky’s cheek. She then headed for the door to head home to get ready for the night. Thankfully she was a little more prepared now.

Back at home Monica checked her reflection one more time as she slipped the gold hoop earrings in. She had curled her hair letting her dark locks lay down and loose. Her makeup was light. She opted for just the basics, a little foundation, blush, mascara, and light gloss on her lips. She looked good, not too overmade up but still enough to notice.

It was just one date she reminded herself. She had been on plenty of dates before, this was no different.

Except it was.

She hadn’t been on a real date in at least two years now. She tried to date after Maddie was born but each man left after finding out she was a single mother and that Maddie would always come first. It was frustrating but Monica had gotten used to it. At the end of the day she’d rather have them run off before she or especially Maddie could get too attached. That would only make it more painful.

She stepped back from the mirror and smoothed out the little black dress Vicky had suggested. It was flowy, light, and flattering. The material moved with her as she walked down the hall. Slipping on her black flats at the door she grabbed her purse and keys before heading out locking up behind her.

Monica sat at a back booth in the small restaurant. She ran her finger around the rim of her drink as she waited. She checked her phone and huffed. She had been there an hour now and Luke so far was a no show. She knew she should have never agreed to being set up on a blind date.

Monica sent another text to Alex. She would give him another fifteen minutes but after that she was done.

The kind young waitress stopped by her table for probably the fifth time now. “Can I get you anything else?” She asked.

Monica hated the pitying look the girl wore. She needed to get out of here.“No, thank you. I’ll just take the check please.” She said politely. She had enough. It was time to just face it, she had been stood up.

Thankfully the girl got the check to her rather quickly bringing another loaf of bread with her for Monica to take home, on the house. Monica finished off her drink then made her way straight for the exit after paying. She couldn’t wait to be home.

“Monica?”

Monica looked over to the waiting area where she heard her name come from. That’s where she found Angel. “Angel? What are you doing here?”

Angel looked over Monica in her dress and all made up. She looked beautiful. “You on a date?” He couldn’t see why else she would be all dolled up. He wouldn’t lie to himself, the thought of Monica being out with some other man made him insanely jealous. He wanted to be the man taking her out, the man she dressed up for, the man who would treat her like the queen she was.

“Yes, I was, but he never showed.” She admitted. She felt like an idiot. “Are you?” She asked eyeballing his outfit. He was still in his usual attire, kutte and all.

Angel felt a little guilty for how relieved he was to hear the fucker didn’t show. He hoped she couldn’t tell. At the same time he was pissed that anyone would leave her waiting like that. “His loss,” he gave her a smile. He watched her tuck a strand of hair behind her ear as she gave him a small smile back. He couldn’t help himself, he found his gaze lingering a little too long on her neck.

Angel cleared his throat gathering his thoughts, “Nah,” he said, licking his lips, “just picking up some food, gonna take it over to Pops and have dinner there.” He tried to play it cool.

“That sounds nice. The bread here is fantastic.” She commented. She would know, she only had about two loaves as she waited on Luke.

“You’re more than welcome to join us.” Angel offered. “We ordered plenty of food. Pops and EZ wouldn’t mind.”

“Thank you, Angel. That’s very sweet of you.” Monica knew what he was doing. She appreciated it but she didn’t want to be pitied anymore. She would much rather go home and wallow in the embarrassment there. “But I think I’d rather just go home, run a bath and listen to my favorite true crime podcast or something. I still need to prepare for the party tomorrow anyways.”

Angel nodded. He understood her not wanting to but he had to offer. “EZ and I are going to bring the play set over in the morning. We’ll help set it up before the party.” For Maddie’s birthday everyone in the club pitched in to get her a play set fully decked out with a swing set, slide, and jungle gym for their backyard.

“Sounds like a plan.” Monica gave him a smile, “Maddie is going to love it.” She then leaned in to give him a quick hug before parting. “Have a good night Angel and tell Felipe and EZ I said hi. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“You too, querida.” Angel got out just before Monica exited the restaurant. He watched her all the way until she got to her vehicle before realizing the hostess at the front had his food ready and waiting for him to take home.

Tag List: @carlaangel86 @starrynite7114 @mayans-sauce @capnsaveahoe @creepingfromthecorners @scuzmunkie

#made to love you #angel reyes fanfiction #mayans mc fanfiction #angel reyes x oc #mayans mc x oc #angel reyes #mayans mc #coco cruz #hank tranq loza

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rawsanma · 3 years

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In Memoriam of "Shin Evangelion: Curse"

*The following article contains a full spoiler for "Evangelion 3.0+1.0".*

I sat together with a person who was not in birth when EOE was released, and after watching the film we talked a bit and thought about the people who passed away without ever seeing this. I understand that fans from the old series and those who came from the new series may have very different perceptions of Shin-Eva. So I'd like to first correct a few things I said in my first impressions.

It may be somewhere between an honorable movie and a mediocre movie in general, but as Evangelion, it's garbage.

After about halfway through the two hours and thirty-five minutes, I started to look at my watch again and again. The double ending, which is both a personal novel and a product, was a fleeting fantasy, and the two songs "One Last Kiss" and "beautiful world (da capo ver.)" were not used effectively in relation to the story, only being played in the staff roll.

When I saw the first 10 minutes of the movie that was released last year, I thought that perhaps Paris was chosen as the setting for the story of "humanity fighting together in the face of destruction" or "the expansion of the Eva world (not G Gundam, but G Eva!)", but that was not the case at all. He just wanted to depict the battle using the Eiffel Tower as a FATALITY,　I realized that he hadn't made a single millimeter of progress since when he asked Hayao Miyazaki if I could film only this action scene of Her Highness Kushana in the re-animation of Nausicaa, he was scolded, "That's why you're no good!"

At the beginning of the film, they try to carefully describe the things behind the scenes that were not told in Eva Q. The third Ayanami like the TV version is the main character, and they go on and on about living in the countryside, copying "My Neighbor Totoro". The large family of our parent's home that we go back to during the summer vacation is presented as an image of happiness in life and a decent human being. It is also connected to Gendou's narrative during the Human Instrumentality Project but isn't it too Showa-era and too simple a solution? I am interested in how the young fans who are children of nuclear families who left their large families in the countryside and moved to the city saw the too sudden depiction of "life in the countryside". It was almost a gag to see Ayanami walking around in a plug suit which is a sexual orientation that has manifested itself after Space Battleship Yamato, in the images of pre and post-war farming villages depicted by recent NHK morning dramas. The director, influenced by his wife, must have been immersed in the LOHAS and vegan lifestyle as a fashion statement, which is only possible because he is an urbanite with too much stuff and too much money. As for this theme, it has already been presented in the watermelon field scene in the second film, and it is merely a re-presentation of the same theme in a diluted form.

I've pointed out before that Eva Q is "a crack in reality because of the loss of reality to rely on. "It's rude not to eat what you're served!", Shinji was scolded by Touji's father, who looked like a subversion of Hayao Miyazaki's work (Gedo Senki!). I have a simple question, how can the interior of a house become so old and wretched after only 14 years? How can a community of people of all ages be formed in just 14 years?　There was a line that implied that Touji had killed someone for the village, and it is possible that the director had extremely beautified the "Showa era" as a sanctuary where people who are hurt and regret their committing murder during the war as a soldier live nearby, and when he opened the last drawer after using up all the materials, he found the image of the original landscape of his childhood.

Misato and Kaji's child, which is only described for a few minutes, is also abrupt, and I don't feel that it is more than a plot device for the purpose of staging the reconciliation with Shinji later on. Some people seem to be moved by the fact that "behind Misato's cold attitude towards Shinji in Q, there was such a conflict in her mind," but it's the opposite. All the answers are just excuses after wasting nine years of work. Even if the wounds healed and treated with a gentle "I'm sorry," after being beaten severely by a raging DV husband, the fact of the beating would not disappear, and the wife would feel nothing but fear at the sudden change in her husband. To a situation that he had set to minus 100, he spent 2 hours and 35 minutes gradually pouring water drawn from other places and past works to bring it back to zero...I've never seen such a horrible match pump. Well, now that I'm writing this, I'm thinking that I've seen this before.

The relationship between Eva Q and Shin Eva is very similar to the relationship between "The Last Jedi" and "The rise of Skywalker" in Star Wars. In a self-absorbed rampage of conjecture that did not listen to the opinions of others, the historical stage of the series that had been built up was turned into a mess, and then the destroyed story was carefully built up again from the ground using unnecessary length, and only the shape of the story was created to end it without being disgraceful, and every scene that tries to make things more exciting is a copy of past work. As for Star Wars, since 8 and 9 were directed by different directors, I was able to settle my feelings of resentment towards Ryan and gratitude towards Abrams, respectively, but as for Evangelion, the director looks like a child who has been proud to clean up his own mess and have his female cronies praise and pat him on the head. Moreover, what kind of sympathy do you expect when you are told to "I'll make amends" for the mere act of wiping your ass after defecating, in a cool, Showa-era chivalrous tone?

In this film, as a recovery from Q and a summary of new Eva, there are elements throughout the story that critics can easily relate to the old Eva. “Oh, I can talk about this in connection with that!” This is what gives them a good impression and it has nothing to do with how the old fans perceive it. The director seems to have a dedicated person in charge of communicating and negotiating with the outside, but now he wants the critics to communicate with the fans about Shin-Eva. As long as he doesn't speak for himself, he can correct their interpretations later based on the "misunderstandings" of the people in between himself and his fans. This is a very Japanese-style system of surmising feelings, a system of authority that is formed when only a limited number of cronies are informed of the true intentions of the president. If I talk about it in too much detail, right-winged Yakuza will show up very soon, so to make it short, it is an indigenous control structure unique to Japan that originated from the "Mikado behind the bamboo blind". This time the director was very conscious of that, and I was able to see that Eva, who was a challenger, has become an authority that does not tolerate any criticism.

And what fan from the past could enjoy watching the endless battle scenes after Shinji returns to Wunder in the middle of the film? One after another, the sister ships of Wunder appear--there's almost no difference in appearance, but Ritsuko is able to guess their names the moment they appear. Right after the line "I'm pretty sure there's a fourth ship," the fourth ship comes crashing upon them from underneath, with no intention other than to make us laugh, right? As well as the repeated tenseless bombardment fight with no description of damage no matter how many artillery shells are hit, and it's quite painful being poured Asuka and Mari's Me-Strong Battles which are already enough by the time of Q, continuously down my throat like a goose with a funnel in its mouth. There's no way to synchronize my feelings with the screen, and it just creates an atmosphere as if the story is going on with the unattractive super-robot action that I pointed out in Q. It's no use pointing out, but the repair and supply problems of Wille side in a world where the industry has been destroyed were shown in the farming village part, though it was inadequate. But those of NERV side, an organization of only a man and an old man, was completely thrown away.

The last part of the story about the Human Instrumentality Project is like a fanzine where Gendou, Asuka, Kaworu, and Rei are lined up in a row and complemented in turn and then dismissed, whereas EOE was a total complement through Shinji. The director has tried to upgrade his framework by borrowing them from EOE and has failed miserably. Someone who has created works by putting his emotion and flair into a copy has dabbled in copying his own work. As a result, he had to confront his own sensibilities from when he was young and had to compare the old and the new by his old audience. Frankly speaking, only the techniques have been traced, the sound and the screen have become gorgeous, but the emotion and the sense have deteriorated. The face of the giant Ayanami that was replaced with a live-action one -- probably based on the face acting of Shinji's voice actor, and the "untested ordeal" of her tweet means this -- appears in the background like a gold folding screen in the high sand at a Japanese wedding reception. You're getting tired of all this, and you're not making it seriously, are you? The battle between Eva Unit01 and Eva Unit13 in Tokyo-III, which I expressed my anxiety about before the film's release, is a scene where the company's CG team can't produce what the director expects and he is so frustrated that he has the same mindset as in the final two episodes of the TV version, "I'd rather get a minus than a red", and after that, it became like a gag scene, including Eva fights in Misato's apartment and Shinji's school classroom, as if he was staged them in desperation. The side-shooting screenshot of the little Wunder charging at the head of the giant Ayanami is a picture of ”Cho Aniki (Japanese STG)” itself, and it's also meant to be funny, right? It's a series of loose, sloppy, and tenseless scenes that can't be compared to EOE.

What the hell have the CG team been doing for the past nine years, getting paid with no progress and making Eva look like an outdated piece of crap? Didn't anyone have the chivalrous spirit of the Showa era like "Don't embarrass our boss!"? Don't be so relieved when you get the green light! The director has just given up on you! There were a few scenes where the person at the top of the editing and collage, who has been making the coolest pictures, was not given as much good material as he used to be and seemed to make desperate staging in a way that he would never have given the green light in the past. It's been more than 10 years since Xapa was established, but I guess they don't have enough talent to meet the director's vision. Perhaps because of this, the conclusion of the film is exactly the same as the old one, that the director has no choice but to use his personal feelings to finish Eva, but the film ends up being a self-imitation of "Sincerely Yours". It is sad to see a person who "surpasses the original by putting his heart and soul into the copy" start to copy his own past works on the big screen of the theater, because he has become a big name in the animation world after reaching the age of 60, and there are no others left to be copied. However, right after "Komm, süsser Tod" started playing in the old movie, the scene where the titles of each episode and the reverse side of Cels were played in succession was projected on the wall of the studio using a projector -- the title of the new movie was added. It made me mad and thought, "Don't touch my EOE with the dirty hands of the merchant. I'll kill you."

The last things that the man who "transfers his own life onto films" presented in his costly self-published private novel were a naked confession of his own mental history up to the point where he met his wife, which he temporarily entrusted to Gendou, and the words "I think I loved you" and "I loved you" exchanged between himself and the former lover who could not be together and themselves who had separate spouses, just a reckoning of the muddled love affair that existed behind the scenes of EOE. I half-jokingly said that the distance between the director and Asuka's voice actor was important for the end of Eva, but it turned out to be true in a different way. During the recording session, Asuka's voice actor was told by the director, "I'm glad Miyamura is Asuka," which sent chills down my spine as it conveyed the horror of a creator who doesn't hide everything about his life and relationships and uses them to create his works.

In the scene where Shinji says "I liked you too" to the adult Asuka, who is wearing a tight latex suit and drawn in a more realistic character design (making us aware of the cosplay by Asuka's voice actor), while she is lying on the EOE beach, I thought "You guys should do this in a coffee shop or something between recording sessions! Don't make us watch middle-aged man and woman having unpleasant conversations on the big screen of the theater!", I almost screamed out. I think that's the scary part, the director's one-sided love for Asuka's voice actor is falsified by having the character say that she liked him, as if it was a mutual love. The director's statement at the beginning of the pamphlet says that he started working on the sequel right after Evangelion 2.0 without hesitation, using the worldview of "Q". I'm not trying to quote the line "You can change the reality you don't like by getting on Eva.", but it's not as if he's trying to cover up the fact, but he really believes that using his strong imagery, and it made me feel a bit chilly that there was no one around to correct his misconceptions.

At the end of Human Instrumentality Project, I wondered if the fact that a senior member of the movie industry had praised the shooting of EOE by flipping Cels over as a "tremendous deconstruction" was still fresh in his mind. This time, too, it was postponed after postponement, and even though the makings have been done in time, he showed the other side of the production with line drawings and roughs. The reason it was so innovative was that it was the first time anyone had tried it then, and now, 25 years later, it's just a rut. It's disgusting that everyone is praising the master's strange drawing habit and saying, "Oh yeah, that's it, that's it." As I've said before, it's like "defecating in a sixty-nine," which was successful because the first partner happened to be a scatologist. The expression of EOE was sharp and ”Rock’n’‐roll”, but Shin-Eva's "fun of anime images" has gone into the realm of traditional art, like slow "Gagaku".

The director hadn't decided who Mari Makinami was for a long time -- he was so indifferent to her that he threw the actor's acting plan to a sub-director -- but with Shin-Eva, he's changed her into an equal to Moyoco Anno, his wife. In other words, the flashy battle in the middle of the film, which is unimportant to many viewers, is revealed to have been a very pleasant pretend play for the director, in which he has his former love and his current wife fight on his favorite robots. Once again, we are shown the director's so-what-attitude, which has not progressed even a millimeter since "I'm an asshole," and which he can complete his work only by masturbation. So it's no wonder that they couldn't depict the extremely simple catharsis of Shinji's great success with Eva Unit01, which is what most of the old fans want. Because a robot with a pathetic old man on board can't get an erection due to impotence, let alone masturbation!　Oops, excuse me, sir.

And as I said before, it's time to realize that the English language has become so popular in Japan that it's become lame. You use Infinity, Another, Additional, Advanced, Commodity, and Imaginary, just because it sounds cool to you, right?　Everyone criticized the naming "Final Impact", but I never thought I'd see the time when I'd faint from the lack of taste and coolness in Evangelion, such as Another Impact, Additional Impact.

And the ending, with the wedding report in a live-action aerial shot of the director's hometown, newbie fans are screaming that it is like, "They're doing a very positive version of the old "Return to Reality!". But I felt it was too empty and cynical because it was intended to be read that way by the director. It depicts only the elation of marriage, and the pain of getting along with a partner and his or her family with different values is cut off (well, maybe Q was expressing the hardship of married life......). But isn't the emotional weight of a marriage report much higher when you meet your partner's parents?　The fact that he ended the movie by showing his own hometown instead of his wife's hometown leaves me with the impression that he's definitively an egotistical geek through and through. "You may have graduated from a good university and are making good money in the city, but if you're not married and don't have children, aren't you somehow humanly flawed?" After 25 years, Evangelion, which was such a forward-thinking Sci-Fi, is now completely in sync with the earthly ethics of Showa-era's farmers and farm horses. "I got married and it saved my life. I don't know about you, but why don't you try?" You can think what you want, but if you want to convey it as a message of salvation, you have to express it in the content of your work, not in your own talk.

I've been married for 20 years, I have two children, both of whom are about to reach the age of adulthood, I've paid off the mortgage on my home, and I'm finally at the end of raising my children, but all of that is just an outer shell of a social skin that has nothing to do with my true nature or where my soul is! There's no connection between what kind of life an individual lives in the real world and the Sci-Fi sense of wonder, in fact, there shouldn't be any connection! If you're a science fiction fan, take a page from the great Arthur C. Clarke! I was a nerd with a negative value of 100, but when I got married, I gradually poured the "common-sense values" of the Showa era into myself, and now I'm a true man with no negative value? Don't write such pathetic fiction proudly! Listen, what you presented to the audience at the end was the same thing that someone would say to you, "You seedless stallion!" It's the same kind of unethical and vulgar message that you shouldn't be giving! The old Eva became a classic of Japanimation, and no one was able to properly scold you, or you keep away those who tried, and the result of this is directly reflected in the ending of Shin Eva!　You've reached your 60th birthday and you only have such poor social common sense, damn it!

I'm sorry, I was so excited that I lost my control a little bit, just a little bit. I think the director is relying a little too much on his wife, who is ultimately a stranger on, to be his laison d'etre (lol). If they were to break up in the future, it would certainly be the soil for the next Eva, the content and development of which is completely predictable, but that is no longer my concern. I wonder if his wife doesn't like the fact that he's mentally dependent on her like this, and that it's being shown on screens all over the country. If it were me, I'd be furious, but since she's a creator, I guess she understands how he feels. Ignoring the other person's feelings and continuing to force what he believes to be love on her, thinking that it will make her happy, seems to me that there has been no progress at all since the way he treated his girlfriend 25 years ago. The person I want to hear from the most right now is not the self-proclaimed Eva fans who are looking at each other from the side and giving positive feedback in celebration of the final episode, but his wife. If the director had a child, he would not have been able to distinguish between his own ego and that of the child, and would have doted on his child, making a documentary film about his or her growth, but would most likely have turned into a controlling and poisonous parent in his or her adolescence. And he animated his feelings for his child who was rebelling against him, without the child's permission, considering it as a one-sided redemption for the child, and the child who was exposed to the whole country about their home life would have distanced from his father more and more.

In the end, Evangelion did not become a product like Gundam, but rather a robot animation that was the director's weird personal novel. The repeated use of the word "job" in the film has stuck in my mind, but in order for the studio to survive, it had to make Evangelion a product in this new series, and I'm sure that was the initial motivation behind the production of these new films. Your real "job" was to make Evangelion the same as Gundam, to protect the people who came to you because they loved Evangelion. Years from now, I can see a future where Xapa will be like Ghibli, behead the staff and continue as a copyright management company. The director, who didn't want to be embarrassed as a creator by a new challenge adopted the safe way -- I can't believe that I have to use the word "safe" for Evangelion -- to end the new series that relied on EOE only for himself, not for the future of the people who came to admire him. That's what Shin Evangelion is all about.

The good part? The fact that he didn't bring Shin Ultraman trailer at the end of the film makes me think he has grown up a bit. If you're declaring "Farewell, All Evangelions" with the intention of hurting, disappointing, and disinterested old fans like me, then your malice is unfathomable, and that's quite a feat. Brilliantly, your intentions have permanently killed a part of me that used to be an Eva fan.

As horrifying as it is to imagine, it must have crossed the director's mind to reschedule the film and set a new release date for March 11. The only reason he didn't do so is not that he has grown up to be a sensible adult, but rather because the idea of linking Evangelion 3.0 with the Great East Japan Earthquake was a fact that is too painful for him to make it public.

Ten years ago today, many lives were lost and Evangelion was destroyed.

This fact will never disappear, no matter how much the director denies and covers up with the "true" history. If there is any mission left for me as a fan, it is to continue to pass on this fact to future generations as a storyteller. It is a huge loss for Japanese fiction that the end of the great Evangelion has become a self-recovery work of the great failure of the reboot affected by the Great East Japan Earthquake, and that the potential of the great Evangelion has been consumed by the self-defense of someone who cannot admit his own mistakes, and I sincerely regret it. Shin Evangelion will be forever cursed by the dead, who yearn to see the sequel of Evangelion 2.0, and the living, who yearn to see the sequel of Evangelion 2.0.

This curse will be completed when it spreads, arrives, and is burned by the powers that be as a false history. I pray that my thoughts will reach him!

#evangelion 3.0+1.0

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fangirlovestuff · 4 years

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Holding Out For a Hero- Steve Rogers x Reader Pt.2

a/n- enjoy!<3 italics are for thoughts / dreams.

part 1

Two people decided they didn't really want to join, so you were left five newbies and five Avengers – Tony, Natasha, Steve, Bucky and Sam.

After a short way, you finally entered the tower. You barely registered how modern the interior design was, wanting to get a good look at everything that was going on inside the tower. They herded you all into the elevators, going straight to the roof.

On the roof, a jet waited for all of you. It was surprisingly comfortable and spacious, and you and Julia sat down next to each other. "The flight is about an hour. Feel free to rest, you'll probably need it." Tony said, taking his seat next to Natasha. Sam had to seat next to one of the men who came with us, but they seemed to get along fine.

You were pretty overwhelmed with the possibility that was dropped on you, so you told Julia and went to sleep.

You felt his warm lips on your neck, then your jaw, then kissing your mouth fervently. You eagerly returned his kiss, running your hands on his toned arms and abdomen. He pushed you into the bed, and you felt his body on top of yours. You hummed in pleasure as he continued his attack on your mouth, and you tangled your hands in his hair. He began trailing down your body, leaving open mouthed kisses on his way to where he knew you wanted him the most. "Steve," you moaned at the sensation of his beard between your thighs. You looked down at him and he grinned at you, kissing up your thigh, closer and closer until he was so near your folds you thrust your hips, and his mouth landed on your—

"Hey! You okay there girl?" you opened your eyes and saw Julia's face staring at you, concerned. You stretched your neck and moved in your seat. Your dream left you a little disoriented, and – shit – a lot wet. You came to your senses quickly. "Why did you wake me up?" you asked Julia upon seeing you were still mid-flight.

"You were fidgeting and breathing really heavily, I thought you were having a nightmare so I woke you up."

"I didn't say anything though, right?" you asked, concerned.

"No, nothing. Why? What was your nightmare about?"

"I don't really remember, that's why I asked. Anyway, you should probably get some sleep too. I'm gonna rest some more."

You put your earbuds in and put your playlist on shuffle. You closed your eyes, thanking every god possible you weren't a sleep-talker. You felt kind of bad about lying to Julia, but you just met her, and really, it was a white lie anyway. With a sigh you shifted and leaned back in your sit.

That's gonna be a problem.

Julia and Natasha already figured out your crush on Steve. You had to make sure he would never ever find out, because if he did you would probably be kicked off the team. despite still having no idea what exactly they expected you to do, working with the Avengers wasn't something you wanted to miss out on.

To Natasha and Julia you could belittle your feelings all you wanted, but you couldn't lie about this to yourself. Sure, you weren’t in love with him, but your crush was massive, as you were sure his—nope, not gonna do that. You giggled internally at your own bad joke. You had to admit – Steve Rogers was your dream man. Aside from being a super-hot super soldier, with great ass and abs for days, and a really sexy beard and his strong arms that that looked like they could manhandle you in the best way possible, and a– dammit. Why do I keep coming back to that? To get back on track, you were sure the super-soldier serum had its physical advantages. But over the years, the world, you included, got to know the man better, and honestly? He seemed amazing.

Steve Rogers will forever be known as the man who, in spite of being a super-enhanced soldier, solved almost all of his arguments in words. Even though he could definitely beat his opponent in a physical fight easily, he chose to put his intelligence and eloquence to the test, and verbally convinced them he was right. He was kind and considerate to every kid or adult that came up to him to express their gratefulness or appreciation to him, always making sure to tell them if they put their mind to it, they could do whatever they wanted. He was an inspiration to an entire generation of kids who were growing up with him as an example. Surprisingly, he learned to manage Twitter, and was constantly tweeting for Lgbtq+ rights, supporting the #BlackLivesMatter movement, or any other good cause he found. He raised money for charity and marched for women's rights. And in addition to all that, he was saving the world one catastrophe at a time.

So yeah, no one could really blame you for having a crush on Captain America. Hell, probably half the country did too.

The Avengers did a lot of press as well. Steve got asked tons of questions about Peggy, until one of these times he lost his patience and almost lashed out at the interviewer, who looked scared for her life.

"Listen here. Peggy is long gone from my life and you never knew her. I think the minimum level of respect you could give her is to not treat her as a love interest." His eyes blazing, he continued, "So if you have questions about Peggy as a person, go ask her family and leave me out of it." He stormed away from the interview.

Later that month an interview went out with the same interviewer.

"I wanna start by apologizing for the last time we met, you were just the hundredth person to ask me that question so I kinda lost it and I'm sorry." Steve apologized.

"No problem." She smiled at him. Sure, hot blonde interviewer. We all know he's hot when he's angry, you thought amusedly.

"It's just that, I really do miss her. She was a remarkable woman, and she achieved so much in her life when I wasn't around, so it bugs me to see her treated like my "love interest" in the media, and not acknowledging her accomplishments really sucks." Steve explained. "I will say though, ever since then no one asks me this kind of questions anymore." He chuckled, "So you did do me a great favor." He smiled at the interviewer.

They continued the interview, talking about Steve's new charity project "All in Challenge", about the Avengers and whatnot.

You shook out of your reverie. In the time you took to have this entire inner monologue, you noticed you were preparing for landing. You resolved to forget your crush on Steve. No matter how wonderful or single he was, you couldn't risk this opportunity. You had to keep it professional.

You landed quickly after that, getting off the plane and stretching your limbs. Tony signaled to come after him, so you followed. He led the way to the compound, where you entered and Wow it's so awesome in here! You couldn't wait to see everything, but before you could start asking questions Tony started talking.

"Hope you had an okay flight. Now you'll be led to your rooms. You can take a shower or something. There are some clothes already there for you. In exactly," Tony looked at his watch, "30 minutes someone will come pick you up and give you your missions, explain how is this gonna go and answer whatever questions you have as long as you don't annoy them too much. Dismissed."

Natasha approached Julia and you. "follow me, your rooms are pretty close to each other."

You took the elevator silently, without any floor cutting lasers this time.

She led you through multiple corridors and stopped in front of a door. "This one is Julia's." Julia went in after hurriedly exchanging your phone numbers.

You and Natasha walked another minute and then got to your room. "Here you go. This one is yours." She smiled at you. "Thanks." You smiled back and entered.

The room was fairly big, and the soft-looking queen size bed caught your eye immediately. It had a set of neatly folded clothes on it. You sighed, knowing you needed to shower and also wouldn't be able to sleep because you slept on the plane.

You got in the shower, enjoying the feeling of the warm water on your skin. You really wanted to sing in the shower as you usually do, but you didn't know how soundproof the walls in here were. Well, gotta kick that habit, you thought.

You got out of the shower, drying off and putting on the clothes that were on the bed. They fit you quite well and were comfortable. You checked your phone- no new messages from Julia. Guess she's still in the shower.

There was a knock at the door. You opened it, expecting to see a serious S.H.I.E.L.D agent. Instead, you found yourself staring into Natasha's blue eyes. It was a very pleasant surprise.

"Come on. You're getting your mission from me."

#steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x female reader #avenger!reader #avengers #mcu fic #self insert #natasha romanoff #tony stark #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers imagines #chris evans

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mor-beck-more-problems · 4 years

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Petty Vengeance || Morgan & Basil

TIMING: Current

PARTIES: @thebasilhouette & @mor-beck-more-problems

SUMMARY: Morgan works out her frustration on a chance encounter.

Coffee Plus made Morgan nervous now that she couldn’t caffeinate properly anymore. Black coffee gave her a nice earthy, bitter taste to savor, if she asked for two shots of espresso added in. But this usually earned her some very concerned looks, and Morgan wasn’t alway up to defending her life choices to underpaid college students. And today Debbie (and her mole) was with her, talking about Carl’s recovery and some wedding Debbie hadn’t been invited to but had followed extensively on Instagram. Between rehearsing her explanations to the barista and trying to figure out just why it was so important that the bride had included reclaimed wood name cards on her table settings, Morgan had enough on her plate to deal with. And yet she knew, in the way that you know when a storm is going to turn into a gully-washer just by looking, that the man in front of her was going to make her evening so much worse.

Like Clockwork, Basil let himself be led into the establishment, both and neither following the waves of people who went on in their own little worlds, and just following wherever his legs would take him. Mindless. Aimless. He realized some time ago that the more he tried to take control of where he was going, the farther he seemed from it. So he settled with just ending up somewhere, and tonight it would be right in the middle of Coffee Plus. He liked it; sitting there in silence, allowing himself to simply exist. As if he were running out of time, just like everyone else. And, like clockwork, his peace under the warm light would be cut short, drowned by a shadow. Tonight’s shadow was a woman he did not know; she looked at him with want and ownership, and usually he did not mind, but those two things didn’t feel right on her. When she spoke, as if she had known him her whole life, Basil didn’t give her an answer she liked, so she raised her voice until the chatter around them stopped to listen. Then she put her hand on him, and he just wanted her gone. The next thing he knew, he was already on his feet, with his hand wrapped around her wrist so tightly that the skin around it turned white. And then he smiled, “I don’t even know who you are, and I don’t care to know,” with a voice so cold and cruel that she had backed away. Tomorrow, they’d whisper that he broke a lover’s heart, and perhaps that was how it seemed. But he just stood there as she left, and breathed a sigh of relief, as if a bug he disliked flew out the window on its own.

Debbie had moved on to discussing the centerpieces, flower and fruit arrangements that sounded pretty generic, and Morgan was scoping the rest of the cafe to find someone, anyone else, to give her attention. She recognized one of her old students fidgeting in the back of the line, then working up the nerve to approach a young man, the one Morgan got the not-so-good-vibes. She watched, waiting for a chance to wave and hopefully get her student to rescue her from Debbie (and her mole, which Debbie insisted had developed empathic powers). But it wasn’t even a minute before Morgan realized that this wasn’t going to happen either. Her student (Caroline? Casey? Cara?) screamed at him. How could you, she said. You’ve been everything to me.

I don’t even know who you are, and I don’t care to know.

Morgan watched her student leave and the cruel, impassivity of the man, already back in his own world and business. Her temper flared. If the young woman had made a mistake, why couldn’t he just say so? Wasn’t it obvious how excited she’d been? Morgan shook her head and muttered out her coffee order to the barista. “Extra large latte, triple espresso,” she muttered. She saw a question forming on the barista’s face as the girl took in her five feet and two inches in height. No one that small should be having that much caffeine. “It’s been a day,” Morgan said shortly. She added a cherry danish and paid, stomping off to wait near the young man’s table. She watched him from the corner of her eye, waiting to catch some sign of regret. At last, she couldn’t keep it in any longer. “Did you really have to be so cruel to that girl?” She asked. “It looked like an honest mistake. Not something worth manhandling someone for.”

Something in the back of his mind scolded him for his harsh response, that Cloud wouldn’t like it if he knew Basil had turned a fan-- if the woman who had just left was considered one-- away like that. But the voice was small and unsure, and the bigger part of him had already moved on from the encounter altogether. Or, he would have, if only someone else didn’t remind him. This new person was different altogether; Basil easily towered over her, but he had a feeling her spirit was anything but. There was exhaustion, like everyone else in the world, and an anger that felt like it was waiting to boil over. And he seemed to be the cause. “Cruel?” He repeated, as if it was a concept he was entirely innocent of. He leaned against the table, crossing his arms over his chest, and made a face that was as much of mockery as it was of genuine curiosity. “Was that cruel?”

He didn’t do it on purpose; both the past encounter and the one unfolding in front of him now. He thought about it for a moment, but the more he tried to rationalize if maybe he responded too harshly, the more her face vanished from his mind and a voice that felt like nails on a chalkboard remained. And Basil was having a hard time feeling remorse over something like that. Instead, he smiles, coming to a conclusion. “I guess it was,” He said, and turned his attention back to the woman in front of him. “Did you know her? Sorry, I’ll be more careful when it comes to honest mistakes.” But the thought, and any attempts to be any kinder in the future, had already disappeared just as quickly as they were said.

Morgan stiffened with indignation. “Of course that was cruel,” she said, as if it were obvious. “You can’t seriously tell me you grabbed her that way un-intentionally. Or that you couldn’t think of a nicer way to explain she was mistaken or caught you at a bad time!” She exhaled slowly. Somehow his knowing that this was a matter of sticking up for someone she knew personally made her angrier. What did it matter? Shouldn’t he be more considerate no matter who was watching or who the people around him did or didn’t know? (Of course, she found it easier to treat strangers dispassionately. Of course they were easier to hate, easier to not-care for. But that didn’t mean she went around lashing out in the middle of Coffee Plus or laying her hands on them.) “As it happened, she’s one of my former students,” Morgan grumbled. “But that shouldn’t make a difference. Why would you go out of your way to be like that?” As she said this, she folded her arms over her chest, determined to find some way to teach him a lesson. A sliced finger floating in his pastry or his next refill might jar him out if his apathy, and maybe he’d see how much he liked being picked on by strangers.

It was enviable, really, just how people were quick to defend someone else, to take their grievances as their own. But while Basil found it an entertaining sight, he didn’t really understand why. It was understandable if they were lovers, or family-- but it was clear to him that the two women that had intruded in his night did not mean much to each other, and the one in front of him now didn’t understand the situation the way he did. It was fun to watch her act like she did. “Then, I won’t tell you,” He replied, nonchalant. “But, you know, if you were watching as closely as you thought you were, you wouldn’t be taking your frustrations out on me. Because I’ve been minding my own business, both then and now.” Then, in a lower voice, he trailed off: “The two of you, on the other hand...”

Around them, the people had listened with one ear, regarding the prolonged confrontations too awkward to watch directly. But he knew they were listening, and that they knew that, sure, he may have done something wrong, but he definitely didn’t start it. He didn’t go looking for trouble; it just always seemed to find him, and he only came along. Willingly. Every fucking time. Basil straightens. “Now,” he said, taking his mug and making his way to get a fresh cup, but not before giving her a smile. Charming and business-like, the way the information desk staff would. “If there isn’t anything else, I think they have your coffee ready.”

“I know she initiated, but…” Morgan forced herself to stop short. She was wasting her opportunity by pushing this. “You’re right,” she sighed, slipping her hand into her coat pocket as discreetly as possible. Thumbing open her knife and slicing off her middle finger was easy enough. She clenched her jaw and swallowed the whimper of pain that crept up her throat. A new one grew back almost instantly and she was able to withdraw her hand and take the man’s coffee cup without showing off any gooey zombie gore. “I feel biased, obviously. I just know she’s someone who tries to be a good person, is all. Let me cover your refill for making such a weird night out of things.” She pulled with more of her zombie strength than usual to get it free and let the severed finger slip out of her sleeve and into the mug. When the mug was full, it might just float straight to the top.

Nobody ever taught Basil that he shouldn’t be taking candy from strangers and, really, she was insisting. He wasn’t one to say no. So even though he had the vaguest inkling that there was something wrong, and that the woman’s change of attitude was too sudden and uncharacteristic, he let her do as she pleased. “Let’s hope, for both of us, that you’re serious,” he said. A vague little threat, though he didn’t really plan on doing much. What was the worst she could do? With that, he smiled, and took his hands off the mug to let her take it. “If you insist, then I’ll take you up on that. I’d like to put this behind us, too.”

Morgan gestured for the barista to top up the mug and gave her best smile to the young man. “Oh, me?” She laughed, almost giving herself away with her wry grin. “I’m always serious. You know, everything is just a learning experience, right? Even the good stuff. And there’s always an opportunity to make things better one way or another, right?” The coffee was returned and in went the finger. It floated, a little obvious, and the goo that came from her instead of blood formed an odd film over the surface. Morgan had to take out one of those plastic stirring sticks and give it a twirl before passing it back. She could see the tip of her severed finger just bobbing up at the surface. But surely, surely, this rando wouldn’t guess that zombies were real or how their limbs worked. Honestly, as she handed the man the cup, she felt almost excited to find out what he would think of the surprise when he noticed it.

She was a bad liar. Every fiber of his body knew it was suspicious, but it was one thing to know and another to act, and Basil was never good at the latter. So he simply nodded. “Sure,” he said, just wanting her to get on with it. He should’ve stopped her, but as he watched her retreating figure, his drink in tow, he was kept silent by his growing curiosity to see it all play out. When she returned with no evident alterations to his drink, he was sure that the worst she could do was give him scalding coffee, or put too much or too little sugar, and he knew he deserved at least that much. But as he brought the mug to his lips, he realized how wrong he was. The smell of decay mixing with the aroma. The grease-like film that settled at the surface. The lone finger stained dark-brown with coffee, floating inside the mug. And Basil’s growing annoyance and amusement, the more he stared at the mug in distaste. In a way, she was more than he expected.

When he couldn’t take it anymore, he set the mug down with an audible clatter. “How petty,” he laughed. Basil stood to face her, lips pressed into a small, threatening smile, more of a mockery than anything else. “Are you a fucking child?”

Morgan held the man’s gaze. As far as she was concerned, she had faced much, much worse than some angry asshole. “What’s wrong?” She asked innocently. “Don’t you like it?” He had a cruel smile and a steely gaze that spoke of arrogance. Did this sort of thing happen to him often? He didn’t seem phased at all by the undead gore, just pissed. Or maybe he thought it was fake. Humans were weird, and kind of stupid, like that. Morgan glanced down at the mug, and her floating finger. “How did that get in there?” She said, pitching her voice high with false innocence. “Child? Tragically, no. But are you? Because it’s not the greatest feeling, huh? Having someone take out their shit on you for no reason.” She gave him a glare of her own, undaunted, maybe recklessly so. “Maybe you should think about that.” She gave a little shrug and turned as if to leave.

Instead of answering, Basil simply listened to her “explain”, watched her feign innocence without a single shred of regret. It was alright; it made it easier for him to hold onto his irritation, to remember the inconvenience she had caused him that night. But, he didn’t budge, letting her turn her back on him, as if she was proud to have gotten the last say. And when she did, Basil turned his attention back to the finger, fishing it out of the mug and turning it over his hand. Only then did he realize how realistic it was, right down to the fingerprints. He scoffed, “I see how it is.” Maybe she had planned the entire thing meticulously. “Projecting your issues on me and pretending you’re on some moral high ground feeds your ego. It’s alright, I get it.” He had said it for her to hear, and with so much amusement, like he had caught on a joke late. But he knew there was something he was missing; so he discreetly pocketed the finger, a small souvenir of his encounter, to ponder on until he found out what it was. And when he did, he’d be sure to return the favor.

#wr basil #wr chatzy #wr basil chatzy #petty vengeance #wickedswriting

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hellzyeahwebwielingessays · 4 years

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Superior is INDEFENCIBLE Part 2: Odds and Ends

Part 1

As a little follow up to this post I want to wrap up some defences I have encountered for both Superior #2 and the Superior storyline in general.

To start with we have more hypocrisy from the man I once admired as he tried to defend his position on Superior.

He was challenged on his primary argument that Peter and MJ’s separation justified her obliviousness now that they are back together; for further details see the above linked post.

In response to this challenge he said:

“I think there is more to my argument then "They've lived apart for a year" and her relationship with him during that time doesn't have to hold relevance to their relationship after being apart.”

Like…this guy was for fucking real.

OF COURSE their relationship back then is going to hold relevance to their relationship after being apart.

Obviously with the benefit of hindsight Nick Spencer’s run proves this to be the case. And you can refer back to my prior post where I dive deeper into the topic.

However, in that post I was talking about the specific nuances of Peter and MJ’s relationship.

What’s mind boggling is that in the above quote he’s making an even bigger reach. Jesus Christ OF COURSE their past relationship is going to hold relevance for their then-current one.

That’s how relationships work!

FFS, romantic or otherwise everyone’s relationship with everyon else is shaped by the past. This is like arguing Peter hating Norman for killing Gwen Stacy doesn’t have to be relevant to their relationship after his return to the Clone Saga.

I mean shit dude, Peter’s high school romance with Betty Brant was relevant to their romance after he graduated college!

This is how all types of relationships work. You don’t just jump in after awhile, start fresh and then nothing from the past has any bearing on the present. Even in the most positive of scenarios the fact that you are getting together again would still be shaped by the fact that you liked each other in the first place.

And for the life experiences those two shared that’d go a thousand fold.

Now let’s move on to some over miscellaneous comments sent to me a looooooooooooong time ago.

I’ve had this stuff in my drafts for years!

For the sake of catharsis I’ve decided to clear it out. It revolves around Superior Spider-Man and the comments I’m responding to were made before the original volume ended in 2014.

“Rob Wrecks wrote:Why would Aunt May even react to it? She doesn't even know the identity of Spidey now.”

In Civil War she was able to tell that the Chameleon, a MASTER of disguise who was being more subtle than Otto was, was not her nephew.

Whilst she might not know he is Spider-Man she knows her nephew so she should react and become questionable regarding his change in demeanor and behavior. What’s the old saying ‘A mother always knows’.

“As for MJ, they aren't even married anymore either. Sure she remembers who is under the mask. But I doubt she's gonna bring trouble on herself for prying.”

I address a lot of this in this post.

Basically, not being married anymore has nothing to do with it. This woman lived with this man for years (five to be precise) and had a very close relationship with him which involved countless tragedies and traumas. That doesn’t just go away. This is to say nothing of the fact that she has known this man for about 10 years and has been his friend and girlfriend during that time. In fact in Stern’s run when she knew who he was but didn’t let him know, she was depicted as knowing him better than anyone and was able to read him as a book. This was back when they weren’t as close as they are now, hadn’t known each other for as long and she didn’t know him as intimately as she would later come to down the road. In ASM #290 Peter himself says MJ knows him as well as he knows himself and this was before the marriage.

Even in Slott’s run this depiction of Mary Jane knowing Peter better than anyone else was highlighted in various stories like Spider Island, a time travel arc, Alpha, and a Lizard arc at HORIZON labs.

In JMS’ run Peter and Mary Jane were shown to be somewhat in synch even though they were separated at the time and had been for a long while going back. This was showcased in ASM V2 #50 and they had been effectively separated with minimal interaction as far back as ASM V2 #13; arguably even issue #1.

And yet she understood him and knew him very well, falling back into synch with him when they reconciled. Yes there was some awkwardness and them getting to know each other again but it was not on the same level of Otto guzzling champagne, creating spider bots, talking in a manner which was unlike the way he’s ever spoken before and MJ just wondering passingly then dismissing it. This woman has lived through the Chamelon, robot parents and clones and lives in a world where friggin Skrulls have invaded.

This out of character behaviour should send off alarm bells. She DOES clock something is off in Superior #10 but only when he says a phrase she’s never heard him say before. He was doing shit MUCH more out of character before then and she was dismissing it.

Later she was STILL dismissing the notion that Peter wasn’t himself as merely crazy on her part.

Again this woman knows Peter can be/has been cloned repeatedly. This woman even for awhile believed Peter himself was a clone so she knows even memories can be replicated. But Peter is acting so obviously NOT himself that it’s practically SCREAMING at her that she should get this. In fact Peter’s ghost point this out which is Slott lampshading the situation. That doens’t make it good writing that’s just pointing out how bad your story is.

“Hasn't she (I'm guessing he's referring to Aunt May?) been focused lately on her new marriage though? I don't read enough of Spidey these days so I'm only going with bits and pieces I've read about here and there.”

What does being married recently or focusing upon it have to do with anything?

In Civil War she was focused upon not dying because Peter’s ID reveal had upended her life.

If you are someone’s MOTHER and have raised them all their life you will absolutely be able to tell when something is wrong, when they are in fact not the real deal.

“As for MJ, who would she go too? Not like anyone would likely believe her unless she had a telepath scan her mind.”

Who would she go to? I dunno maybe the fucking Avengers or Fantastic Four who are Peter’s friends and team mates. Or maybe not go that far why not go to Black Cat, Human Torch or Daredevil . These are all people whom she knows (at least vaguely in regards to Daredevil) personally and have access to technology that can prove things one way or another.

Even if you argue that it’s not fair bringing in the wider Marvel Universe, Black Cat, Carlie, HORIZON labs, the Bugle staff and Scarlet Spider are all Spider-Man franchise characters.

“Now there could be a possibility she's making a list of his behavior and the like and is just waiting for the right time to say something when she knows she's less likely to die from it.

Maybe Slott's just got something going that'll eventually be revealed? Who knows.”

Oh boy, that didn’t stand the test of time did it?

This is just shitty analysis on principle. It hinges upon blind faith and writing stuff in your head about what characters are doing behind the scenes.

There was NEVER an indication MJ was doing anything like that and her actions actually contradicted event he idea of her doing any of that stuff.

The net responses are to the statement that Doc Ock was a gentleman who would treat women with respect.

“Keyword there, 'was' a gentlemen. I can imagine after years of defeats at the hands of Spidey, certain habits would change and he wouldn't care anymore.

It could have just been a subtle change that no one really noticed. He did try and end the world before #700 if I recall right.”

You need to SHOW those habits changing. The last major Doctor Octopus story before BND was in JMS’s run when he was very much a gentleman. You can’t just say his illness and defeats suddenly transformed him into a would be rapist. It’s utterly out of character for him. It’d be like bringing back Ben Reilly and making him a mass murderer. WHY is he a mass murderer.

(Fun fact. The stuff I bolded about Ben Reilly was something I wrote at the time. I kept it in because of how sadly ironic it wound up being…fuck Clone Conspiracy seriously)

Ending the world before #700 is one thing IN Doc Ock’s character. He is egotistical and wants acknowledgement of his genius.

Superior depicted him going against a character trait he’s always had. In his origin story, when he was ‘courting’ Aunt May, when he was involved with Stunner and Lady Octopus and the like he has always been show to have a respect for women and not had to resort to cheap ploys to woo them.

In Superior he was trading off of MJ’s relationship with Peter and Peter’s memories to basically abuse this woman. That is beneath Doctor Octopus. He is an intellectual a man for whom such actions are debase, the realm of the common thug whilst he is much more he is DOCTOR OCTOPUS.

BTW in Web of Death it was established that Doc Ock probably would not target MJ or Peter’s family even though he knew Peter’s identity.

So for him to suddenly switch to ‘I’m gonna fuck his girlfriend to get one over on him” is again utterly out of character.

‘Web of Death’ was co-written by Tom DeFalco btw, who established Otto’s origin. Thus the argument is flying in the face of someone who helped define the character with no explanation at all.

Slott had done this with other characters like Ashley Kafka.Suddenly the most naively compassionate woman in the world who believed she could redeem CARNAGE is saying this lesser serial killer is a complete monster. That is piss poor writing.

Even if Slott WERE to establish and show how Ock went from one extreme to the other it doesn’t make it a good idea. Doc Ock would be rapist is a lot less interesting than Doc Ock the lone super villain who is part gentleman and part humanitarian with a respect for women. If this was Norman Osborn in Peter’s body, or Electro, or Shocker I’d believe these actions.

The topic then changed to Carlie Cooper’s depiction in Superior as a goddam idiot who isn’t even telling MJ Peter might be evil. “Red Hood wrote: Carlie and Wraith followed Ock’s paper trail because she knows for fact that peter parker doesnt have the money to fund his own private army, the reason she hasnt said anything is because it's not such a good idea to go pointing fingers without absolute truth, remember eddie brock and how he was so sure about the sin eater?”

Carlie’s investigation was going incredibly sloooooooooooooooooowly. Not only was it dull reading, but it made her completely unsympathetic. Why not warn Mary Jane by saying “Look before he died Doc Ock told me he and Spider-Man had swapped bodies. I’m not saying Peter IS Doc Ock but just....be careful MJ”.

Or why not inform the Avengers or Fantastic Four about this. Sure the Avengers gave him a physical but they wouldn’t know what to look for. And why is Carlie Cooper all of a sudden saying “Wait I KNOW Peter doesn’t have this kind of cash so this is a big clue that he isn’t himself.” When her first big clue should have been that time Spider-Man SHOT SOMEONE IN THE FACE!

“also peter and mj arent married anymore.”

See above.

You don’t just suddenly fall out of knowing someone if you’ve been THAT close to them and known them for that long just because suddenly you are not married anymore. She has deduced subtle differences in the Chameleon and clones before this but Ock is NOT being subtle whatsoever. He isn’t even talking the same way he normally does. And Mister Red Hood even says so himself, Carlie can tell right way. His co-workers whom he’s known for LESS THAN A YEAR can tell something is up. But the woman who’s been closer to him than ANYONE in his life, she can’t tell. That is bullshit of the highest order.

“1. mj and peter arent married anymore, idk if they were married in identity crisis but remember how after the deal with mephisto they were separated for x amount of years before she even came back to new york, i can see her not being able to tell peter is acting different at that point. aunt may and the avengers though don't get a pass especially when carlie who knew him the least could tell right away.”

See above.

When you separate from someone you’ve been that close to those feelings don’t just disappear. This is especially true of people who’ve been through immensely traumatic events together. Soldiers often find that only fellow soldiers, specifically ones who were with them in combat, can truly understand what they went through and how they felt. It creates an emotional/mental bond. Same thing here. Peter and Mary Jane went through Venom, Kraven’s Last Hunt, the death of Harry, Gwen, aunt May, Ben Reilly, the clone saga as a whole, Civil War, Peter’s OWN death, Maximum Carnage and so on. They’d have that kind of connection I was speaking about, you don’t just forget it to the point where you let MASSIVE differences in behaviour slide, especially massive differences in behaviour which are different to the way he was acting LAST WEEK!

“3. Also i don't think his [Doc Ock’s] actions are entirely out of character, i mean he was dead, then revived, beat down for several years into a dying body. given time to think about all the things you would do if given another chance i dont think its out of the question for doc to say "great, second chance at life with a movie starhottie gf". also if you'll threaten the city, then the world, then mind swap with someone i dont think having sex is that big a stretch.”

See my comments above why this IS out of character for Doc Ock. Again this isn’t just him wanting to get laid this is him potentially date raping an innocent woman. You need to SHOW the progression of that change

And rape in comic book fiction is understood to be worse from the reader’s POV than the various Saturday Morning Cartoon style crimes he’s pulled.

The next comment was in response to the public’s indifference towards Spider-Man shooting Massacre in the face! “7. As far as no one caring about massacre, didn't he break out a few times and inflict his namesake? no one is going to care that a killer like that gets shot, humans aren't dignified at all. i can see aunt may saying something but no one else is going to be like "oh great that killer is back in jail, too bad all criminals break out" no they're going to be like "finally someone put down this thug, maybe my life or someone i care about will be spared from him at least in the future" and maybe it was caught on security cameras or phones but maybe they deleted it, i mean spider-man just shot a dude in the face and if he wanted there would be nothing anyone could do to stop him from putting the hurt on someone else”

This is just rubbish.

No one is going to care? For God’s sake the police in real life get reprimanded for using unnecessary force.

The law is the law you CANNOT publically execute an unarmed man. And my point was no one, not even Mary Jane or Jonah, were reacting to this mind-blowingly out of character action on the part of Spider-Man. Maybe they do not care that Massacre was killed but they should be wondering “Jesus that’s not like Spider-Man at all”. This was Spider-Man becoming absolutely EVERYTHING Jameson ever falsely accused him of and no one reacted. And I am sorry but the attitude of ‘human’s aren’t dignified so they’d react like THIS” is extremely broad and generalised. This would be a major talking point and a major issue. This is EXACTLY what the entire ‘Civil War’ debacle was about. Super heroes running unchecked doing as they pleased. It’s been what, a year tops Marvel time since Civil War? If that stuff was deleted YOU NEED TO SHOW IT. The cover story is that EVERYONE in that massive crowd covered for him. That is in no way shape or form how humans actually act. And who would there be to stop like a teenager or a kid or a lone person in the crowd from tweeting “OMG Spider-Man just shot this dude” or uploading a video or picture. They were CHEERING him on they wouldn’t be afraid of him being reprimanded. Once something like that hit the internet it’d spread like wildfire, it wouldn’t be something that if immediately taken down would die away, especially when THE NEWS was stating Spider-Man had ‘neutralised Massacre’ and then Massacre shows up dead, WTF would the public THINK happened?

“Aaron Alexander Luthor wrote: Superior is an excellent title, but I feel you approached it having already made up your mind. Doc Ock NEVER attempted date rape, and I don't know where you get that from”

Boy, I wonder where I got the idea of Otto trying to rape MJ from? What an obviously ‘excellent’ title.

Trying to sleep with Mary Jane whilst tricking her into thinking he is Peter Parker then that is categorically trying to date rape her. He didn’t go through with it because he discovered he could just wank off to her memories (I can’t believe I wrote that) but that is exactly what he was trying to do. Maybe to HIM he didn’t think of it as rape but yeah that’s exactly what it was.

“He ripped off his own shirt, not hers.”

I honestly have no idea what he’s talking about here btw.

“Mary Jane had/has mentioned several times that there is something wrong with him and that she thinks there is something strange going on, he also hasn't spoken to her in weeks in the time frame of the comic.”

Yes MJ has noticed passingly things are wrong but then he feeds her a line and she buys it or otherwise she dismisses it herself. This in monumentally out of character for her given her history and makes her incredibly stupid, which is the ONLY way this title could have worked out. Again, she lives in a world of Skrulls, clones, LMDs and shape shifters one of which is literally an enemy of Peter’s and has tried impersonating him multiple times (targeting her specifically twice). But she either doesn’t clock anything is wrong or doesn’t really react when she does. And he HAD spoken to her within weeks by the time or Superior #2.

“Same goes for Aunt May, he visited her the first few weeks as Parker, and hasnt spoken to her since. He is basically ignoring the people in Peter's life, and they have taken notice.”

See my response about Aunt May not knowing. Again, this woman RAISED him and she could tell when the master of disguise who was being a lot more subtle about impersonating Peter was not her son/nephew.

Also he wasn’t exactly ignoring the HORIZON labs staff was he?

“When he killed Massacre, some of the civilians were shocked and appalled, but when the police investigated all the officers on the scene lied for Spidey, because they think he did the right thing. That is why the only officers still interested are Carlie Cooper who does know, and is ACTIVELY trying to prove it isnt Peter, and Captain Watanabe aka The Wraith”

My point about NO ONE taking photos, tweeting, facebooking or whatever still stands as does the security cameras thing and the fact that Massacre was TRYING TO GET PUBLICITY. Again with Carlie why is she not warning SOMEBODY at this point. It isn’t like they wouldn’t believe her after Massacre. It isn’t like Spider-Man isn’t acting weird. It isn’t like body swapping is a legit THING in the Marvel universe. For God’s sake this happened to Captain America!

Kaine, the CLONE of Peter Parker with identical memories and everything. In the Sibling Rivaly crossover between Scarlet Spider and Superior Team-Up even HE couldn’t tell that Peter. Was an imposter This guy doesn’t just know Peter well, he IS Peter. And Otto was ranting none too subtley about how Kaine has bad blood with HIM. He doesn’t say he’s Doc Ock but he’s conveying unsubtly to Kaine that he is not Peter Parker and he is not TALKING like Peter Parker either. When his CLONE is still operating under the delusion that he is Peter Parker that’s put it beyond doubt this was ridiculously contrived.

“BTW, Carlie and MJ have talked about the suspicious way Pete has been acting, Carlie just hasnt told MJ directly.”

WHY didn’t Carlie tell MJ! And WHY were she and Peter noticing Peter’s different actions yet being totally blasé about them.

FFS in ‘Kraven’s Last Hunt’ MJ and Peter had been married for just 2 weeks and in that time she was able to deduce from his actions that the guy in the Spider-Man suit was NOT Peter. In the Mark of Kaine an identical clone of Peter approaches her and she is ultimately able to tell (twice) that he is not her husband. And she did this whilst pregnant and stressed out from a life or death situation to say nothing of the fact that Aunt May had recently died which would be weighing on her mind. Yet in Superior her mind was clearer and she was still buying this was Peter. This is enormously bad out of character writing for her

“As for the Avengers scans, it wasnt that no one could read them, its that they all came back NORMAL.”

No, the scans DID NOT come back normal at all. Doc Ock looked at the scans and could TELL something was not normal because he saw ghost Peter was in his mind. Yeah there was a tiny inconsistency in the brain waves but why the heck weren’t there people on the Avengers team that day to take note of stuff like that. Cap, Wolverine, Black Widow and Thor are obviously NOT going to be able to properly read this scientific equipment like Iron Man or Hank Pym or the Beast. ANY of those guys would’ve been able to tell but no only the Avengers who categorically would not be able to properly read the brainwaves were there. Why? Why get the unscientific Avengers? Because of plot contrivances is why.

And where were the telepaths? One telepathic scan from SOMEBODY should have told all. And again these tests come back normal....no one thought he could be a clone? Spider-Man has joked to these people about his clones, they know about them. Correct me if I am wrong but at the time of the Avenger’s physical of Peter wasn’t there a character involved with the Avengers who was supposed to be the living universe? SHE couldn’t tell Doc Ock is Spider-Man? The universe literally didn’t know this?

“Even Dr. Strange and Wolverines tests all came back regular.”

If Dr. Strange with all his power wasn’t able to deduce the truth that’s even MORE contrived!

And what the heck were Wolverine’s test? That he smelt the same? Of course he would.

“There was a tiny inconsistency in the brainwaves, it wasnt that no one could read it, its that it was so small that no one would even take notice of it, except for Peter or Ock if they were to look for it.”

See above for why this is bullshit.

“And the Avengers are STILL very suspicious, if you read the current titles.”

At the time a ‘current title’ was Superior Team Up #1.

In it the Avengers told him they were wrong to put him in probation and are still just ‘suspicious’ when he INVADED SHADOWLAND WITH AN ARMY!. Because THAT’S so usual for Spider-Man right?

“You're entitled to your opinion, but you cant just make up facts and call it a discussion. I get the impression that you a)Havent read the whole series; b) Had already made up your mind before reading the issues you have read; and c) Havent read the companion stories (i.e. Avenging Spider-Man, Superior Team-up, Hickman's Avengers titles). If you look at the story as a whole, its actually quite good.”

Said the guy who got all the above information I outlined WRONG.

From a technical point of view it doesn’t make sense, it uses contrivances and out of character writing to keep it going. You want to write Doc Ock as Spider-Man. Okay then don’t surround him with people who should be able to figure this out. Or say there is some kind of device redirecting their attention.

Don’t have Doc Ock not act like Doc Ock because that defeats the point of the exercise. Don’t go for deliberate sensationalism or crass storytelling which was essentially everything revolving around him hooking up with Mary Jane and then the oh so lovely page of the Superior Spider-Wanker.

That issue in particular even resolved itself in a contrived manner. Doc Ock begins uttering gibberish which recalled One Moment in Time about “we cannot be together because it’s an unsolvable equation blah blah blah”.

Basically he is saying “I can never be with you because of the danger I put you in”; which is Slott using the character as a mouthpiece.

In the next issue Otto began courting a student at his college because consistency rocks. Even Ghost Peter is out of character at this moment “WOW Ock you did the one thing I could never do and walked away from Mary Jane”. Peter is right he probably can’t walk away from Mary Jane but...does he WANT to? Where the heck is this coming from? What is worse is that it’s so unnecessary. There was a MUCH better explanation for Ock breaking up with MJ. If Ock were in character he could just come to the conclusion that sleeping with MJ under these circumstances would be wrong and beneath him hence he wouldn’t go through with it. If Ock was out of character as he was in their issue but still vaguely in character he could just come to the conclusions that since accessing Peter’s memories he’s begun to have genuine feelings for MJ and doesn’t just want to fuck her, it would involve him having a relationship with here which at this point in time he is incapable of, he doesn’t know how to handle it. I will wholeheartedly admit I was not jazzed about the concept of Superior from the outset. If nothing else I want to read about Peter Parker not Doc Ock and if I did want to read about Doc Ock AS Doc Ock, not as Spider-Man and not as an rotting body.

An arc in a comic is one thing doing this long term all the problems I foresaw have come up as well as some I didn’t even predict. This could have worked if Doc Ock was separated from Peter’s supporting cast who should be able to tell something is amiss but then that defeats a lot of the point of the story. It was a lose-lose situation.

People can enjoy garbage if you want but don’t call it gold.

Part 1

#The Superior Spider-Man #Superior Spider-Man #Dan Slott #otto octavius #Doc ock #Doctor Octopus #mjwatsonedit #mary jane watson #Aunt May #May Parker #Mary Jane Watson Parker #MJ Watson #Peter Parker #Spider-man #Civil War 2006

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rena-rain · 5 years

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Miraculous Hogwarts AU (First Day)

“Adrien.” Gabriel Agreste called out his son’s name as he was about to step onto the train. Adrien turned to be greeted with his fathers hands on his shoulders and steel-colored eyes boring holes into his soul. He received no further warning than that before being pulled into a rare, rare hug. Adrien froze for a second then relaxed into the embrace.

Far too soon Mr. Agreste pulled away. “Be good, son.”

“I will, Father.” He gave him one last smile then stepped onto the train.

He opened a door behind which sat a small girl with pink ribbons in her black pigtails. She wore muggle clothing and sat curled up in her seat, staring out the window. An unusually red tawny owl was perched on her knee.

“Hey.”

His voice made her start. “Um. Hi.”

“Do you mind if I join you?”

“Sure, yeah. No! That is I don’t mind, I mean - go ahead?” The girl’s cheeks went pink and she seemed to shrink into herself even more. Adrien guessed she was a muggle-born; she was alone, clearly nervous, and seemed pretty out of her element.

He smiled and took the seat opposite her. “Thanks. I’m Adrien, by the way.”

“Marinette. Nice to meet you, Adrien.” She put her feet down and stuck her hand out. He shook it.

“Likewise, Marinette. So, are you excited to finally see Hogwarts?”

“I guess so. This is all so new to me I don’t really know what to expect. My parents are, well, they don’t have magic, you see.” So he was right. “I guess you grew up waiting to go to Hogwarts, huh?”

“Yeah. Pretty much.”

“I thought I heard some other kids talking about houses? I thought we were going to live in a castle.”

Adrien grinned. “Houses as in groups inside the school. A house is kind of like one big team, and they compete against each other. You get sorted into a house depending on your personality.”

Marinette’s eyebrows scrunched together in concern. “The professors separate us then pit us against each other?”

“I - I think it’s more like having a place to belong even on the first day of school. Each house is named after one of the Hogwarts founders: Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Everyone in my family has been a Gryffindor for generations.”

Marinette hummed thoughtfully. Before she had a chance to respond, another girl opened the compartment door. She wore muggle clothes too, but the button-down oxford and jogging pants combination clashed so that it was clear she grew up in witch’s robes. She had rich red-brown hair, soft ochre skin, and a cute mole above her right eyebrow that made her look permanently sassy. She had an owl cage tucked under her arm and dark-rimmed glasses threatening to slide off her nose.

“Oh, thank god, all the other compartments are packed. Can my friend and I join you?”

Adrien looked to Marinette, who said, “Of course. Are you a first year, too?”

“Yep. I’m Alya - one sec.” She leaned out the door into the corridor. “Nino! I found a place!”

She sat down, and another boy came in right behind her. He was already wearing black wizard’s robes. “Thank you so much, dudes. We barely got on the train before it started moving.” He held out his hand to Adrien, who was closest to him. “I’m Nino, by the way.”

He shook it, smiling. “Adrien. And this is Marinette.” Marinette gave a shy little wave.

“Whoa, sweet bird, dudette. I’ve only seen a color like that a few times before!” Nino switched seats so he was closer to Marinette and held out a finger. “May I?”

“Sure.” Nino stroked the owl’s head delicately. It closed its eyes contentedly.

“She likes you.”

“What’s her name?” Alya asked.

“I’ve been calling her Tikki. Is that a dumb name for an owl? I’m sorry this is all new to me.”

“Nah. I once heard of an owl called Pigwidgen. You said new? Are you a muggleborn?”

“Uh, yes, yes I am.”

“Well don’t worry,” Alya wrapped an arm around Marinette’s shoulders, making her smile. “We’ll get you all caught up, right boys?”

They both responded in the affirmative. Marinette respondes, “Adrien’s been telling me about the Hogwarts houses.”

“Oh yeah? Have a guess where you’ll be sorted, pretty boy?”

Adrien sighed. Alya’s face and voice were good-naturedly teasing, but he’d long since tired of that nickname. “My whole family’s been Gryffindors for generations.”

“Dude same for mine and Hufflepuff.” Nino gently shoulder bumped him. “Maybe we’ll break the pattern.”

Alya snorted. “Nino if you’re not a Hufflepuff I’ll eat my wand.”

“Why’re you so sure?” Marinette asked.

“Hufflepuff is the most inclusive house. The founder only wanted her students to work hard and be fair, and Nino’s scolded me for taking some of his ice cream.”

“If you wanted a double scoop then you should have bought a double scoop!”

The compartment door slammed open, startling them all. A girl with brand new, jet black robes, red earrings, and a high blonde ponytail posed in the doorway. Unfortunately, Adrien recognized her as Chloe Bourgeois, and old family friend.

“Adrikins! Where’ve you been? I’ve been looking all over for you. Sabrina and I have a compartment farther up the train. Let’s go, no need to hang out with these losers.”

Marinette folded back into a ball, making her body as small as possible. Nino glowered, and Alya crossed her arms. “Watch who you’re calling loser, you brat.”

Chloe gasped. “Do you have any idea who I am?”

“Chloe - ” Adrien tried. But she interrupted him.

“My daddy is the Minister of Magic, for your information!”

“Oh who cares?” Startled, Adrien looked to see Marinette clasp her hands over her mouth, apparently just as surprised by her outburst as he was.

Chloe sneered. “If you know what’s good for you, you should. He’s the most powerful wizard in Britain.”

“Most influential, maybe,” Adrien said.

“Et tu, Adrikins?”

Marinette huffed. “Just get out of here. No matter who you are, you don’t get to talk to us like that!”

“Ugh. I’m over this dumb compartment. Let’s go, Adrien.”

Adrien glanced between his oldest - and only - friend, and the three kids who’d been friendlier with him in five minutes than Chloe had in five years. “I think I’m staying. You go ahead.”

“Fine.” She huffed off and the compartment door slid shut on her wake.

Alta crossed her arms. “That girl’s a piece of work.”

“She’s a lot.”

“Let me guess: she’s sweet once you get to know her?”

Adrien thought for a second then shook his head. A faint call in the corridor from the sweets trolley witch reached his ears and he jumped up. “Trolley’s coming, you guys want anything? My treat.”

Marinette and Nino started.

“Oh no you don’t have to”

“I’ve got a little pocket money here”

“Are you two seriously turning down free candy? Guys, he’s offering!” Alya looked perplexed.

Adrien opened the door. “I’ll just get a bit of everything.” He was out before they could make any more protests. Adrien figured they should introduce Marinette to as many wizard of sweets as they could.

As it turned out, Marinette loved the licorice wands but was appalled by the Bertie Bott’s Every Flavor Beans.

“Why on earth would anyone want a glass-flavored sweet?” she exclaimed. Adrien hid his chuckle behind his hand.

Alya shook the box, peering inside. “It’s about the dare. And pranking your siblings. I convinced my little sister that a dirt-flavored bean was chocolate. I swear, she was so mad, pink sparks burst out of her ears.”

“Speaking of,” Nino scooped up a couple chocolate frogs, tossing one to Marinette. Adrien had just stuffed his fourth into his mouth. “You gotta try these, they’re the best chocolate in the world and they come with collector cards!”

Besides the ribbeting noises while she swallowed, she seemed to like the chocolate frogs a lot more. She examined the that came inside. “Ooooh, I’ve heard of her! I got Morgana. She was a real witch?”

“As real as a salty ghost,” Alya replied. Marinette gazed in wonder at the card in her hands. Adrien gathered his chocolate frog cards and held them out to her.

“Here, you can have mine, I don’t collect them.”

Her face flushed. “Oh. Oh! Um, th-thanks Adrien that’s sweet really. I mean, that’s really sweet, thank you.” She grabbed them from his outstretched hand and huddled back into her seat. For the thousandth time Adrien cursed his heritage. He didn’t want a cute, nice girl getting nervous around him just because of how he looked.

Marinette was rifling through her chocolate frog cards. “There are witches and wizards on here from throughout history...some are even still alive...why are they all wearing the same thing?”

Nino frowned. “Huh?”

“Look at the chocolate frog cards, the robes hardly change at all. Isn’t fashion a thing in the wizarding world?”

“Of course it is,” Alya said. “It’s just not as finicky as muggle fashion.”

“The clothes just never change...that’s so odd...”

“Wizards are very traditional,” Adrien explained. “Magical artists and designers tend to focus on preserving our cultures and histories.”

“Well, that doesn’t mean you can’t accessorize a bit,” Marinette pointed out. “There’s so much potential here. I wonder if I could get a dress form at Hogwarts...”

She pulled a sketchpad out of her purse and began drawing. They were rough, quick sketches, but Adrien could tell the moves were well practiced. With a few strokes of a...not a quill, what’s that writing thing called?...whatever it was, a few quick lines and he could see the clothes she imagined like a projection from her mind.

Adrien noticed Marinette worked with the tip of her pink tongue sticking out the corner of her moth. He decided he definitely wanted to be her friend.

Adrien had been called up first for the sorting, and had been sitting with the deliberating old hat on his head for ages. Marinette checked her watch. Six minutes had gone by. “Is this normal?”

“No.” Alya sounded fascinated. “If the sorting takes longer than five minutes we call it a ‘hatstall.’ It’s supposed to be incredibly rare.”

“I wonder which houses he’s deciding between.”

“I don’t know. That boy’s hard to get a read on.”

Her watch was approaching the six minutes and thirty second mark when she heard the hat boom out its choice. “HUFFLEPUFF!”

Alya snorted. “Chloe does not look happy.”

Marinette watched Adrien find a place among his new house mates. They hugged him and ruffled his hair and the lines of his robes became yellow. He already seemed to glow with an alluring, metallic shine, but the big smile on his face made him ten times more beautiful. Marinette shook herself when she realized she was staring.

Chloe Bourgeois got sorted into Gryffindor after a comparatively brief stint on the stood. She proudly and happily strutted to her table as scarlet dripped down her robes.

When it was her turn, the hat blocked Alya’s vision and the hundreds of eyes staring at her. A rumbly voice spoke in her ears. Or was it directly into her mind?

“Mmmm, interesting, I sense fire in this one. Very brave, very stubborn, very noble. But you are a cunning one, as well; I sense great ambition in your heart.”

Alya’s chest clenched. That sounds like a Slytherin thing. But you said brave...

“Little fox, you would thrive in Slytherin or Gryffindor. You straddle a line of values. Ahh, I see you’re another Cesaire.”

You remember sorting my sister?

“And your father. You have their passion in your blood. You all are deeply magnanimous. But you, oh you’re so very clever and resourceful. I’m inclined to place you in Slytherin, if you have no objection...”

...I don’t.

“Very well. Welcome to the house of SLYTHERIN!” The sorting hat shouted the last word to the whole hall and was lifted from her head. She slid off the stool and walked to the table applauding raucously. As she sat and older students shook her hand and patted her back, she watched in wonder as the trimmings of her robes shimmered and turned emerald green.

“Oh, yes, I know precisely where you belong.”

Is it Gryffindor? Marinette dreaded the notion of living in the same place as Chloe Bourgeois.

“I can see your dreams, young lady. You may look all sugary sweet to the outside world, but you’re scrappy. You hunger for your destiny.”

All this was news to Marinette, but she didn’t protest as the hat called out “SLYTHERIN!”

In a daze she found a seat next to Alya. She nudged her. “Girl that was fast. You wore the hat for maybe five, ten seconds?”

“It was very adamant I be sorted into Slytherin,” Marinette confused. “Yours took longer.”

Alya pinched her thumb and forefinger so they were a centimeter apart. “I was this close to joining the Gryffindors.”

Marinette smiled. “Well, I’m glad we’re in the same house.”

They watched as one by one the other first years got sorted. As Alya predicted, the sorting hat barely touched Nino’s head before it bellowed out HUFFLEPUFF! He scooted next to Adrien and gave him a big hug. He looks good with yellow on his robes, Alya thought.

Ko-fi

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shadowedoracle · 5 years

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The 27 Rules of Lacey French

Summary: Lacey French used to have many rules, now she has just the one: no falling in love. Less than a week away from getting married her thoughts are filled with not with her fiancé but the enigmatic Mr. Gold who is the only one who can help clear the fog around her mind.

Cursed Storybrooke AU. Mostly is a Season 1 AU (probably).

Chapter 1 written for the @a-monthly-rumbelling prompt: “One rule: no falling in love.” (although technically doesn’t appear as a quote and was posted very late).

Rated: T (I hope)

Warnings: Unplanned pregnancy, References to past abuse

Notes: If you see any typos/ grammatical errors let me know.

[AO3]

Rule One: No Falling in Love

Lacey French poured another couple of beers, slid them along the bar and closed her eyes. She pressed her left fist into the small of her back and let out a tiny, almost inaudible groan. She’d known these shoes were a bad idea the moment she put them on before her shift. Once she would have worn them with great ease for hours more. But now? She’d barely made it halfway through her shift and her feet were already killing her.

For a moment she wished she hadn’t wanted to look good for this shift. Hell, she wished she hadn’t agreed to this shift in the first place. But she always worked this late shift on the first day of the month. And she always looked good for it. It was almost like a rule of hers. Almost.

Lacey French didn’t have a lot of rules in life. At least not any more. Once she’d had a lot, 27 to be exact. But now she had just one rule: no falling in love. She’d burned through all the rest long since including the other two she’d sworn blind to follow: Leave Storybrooke as soon as you can and don’t marry a guy just because he knocked you up. Technically she supposed she hadn’t married Jake yet, but she was 6 months pregnant with his child and the wedding was in less than a week. So she’d near enough broken that one too to have already abandoned it. No, now she only had that last rule to cling to.

The 27 rules had been relics of her childhood. All her mother’s or adapted from her mother’s 27 Rules. Karen French had perhaps had more that that, but her ten year old self had recorded 27 in her diary just months before her mother had died so 27 was the number she’d stuck with.

Karen French’s most important rule, “Never break a promise”, had eventually cost her mother her life. There was no promise Lacey wouldn’t break to avoid that happening to her.

She shivered. Thoughts like this never led her to a good place. Recalling her mother’s death never led her anywhere but the bottom of a bottle and since she couldn’t drink any of the liquor from the bar she was tending at The Rabbit Hole any more she had to find something to distract herself with.

She glanced at the bar’s patrons desperate for a way to avoid falling into this void again but her eyes were drawn to Jake and she fell back into that pit again. Her mind filled with images of her mother’s drawn face in her final days. The bruises along her body that so perfectly matched Moe - fucking did not deserve a familial title - French’s hands.

Lacey felt goosebumps appear along her skin and a tell-tale nausea swept over her, made worse by the stink of the alcohol and food the bar served. She closed her eyes again and breathed slowly, in and out, while images of Moe French dead in a ditch somewhere calmed her down. She hadn’t seen or spoken to her him in over a decade and she hoped never to see him again or so help her, she did not know what she would do.

Lacey had sworn never to become her mother and that had meant changing some of the rules. Lacey’s number one, now only, rule came from one of her mother’s odder maxims: “Don’t fall in love with someone who likes onion rings.” Lacey had never understood her mother’s extreme position against onion rings so had changed it. She knew what love could do, she had watched it destroy her mother before her death. She loved her mother, but she hated that her blindness towards Moe French’s nature and actions had cost her her life. No, Lacey would not make the same mistakes as her mother by falling in love. Not falling in love could save her from Karen French’s fate.

Or so Lacey had once thought. Now she wasn’t so sure. Now she was older and less naïve she thought perhaps otherwise: a drunken one-night stand could be as deadly as falling in love. Lacey couldn’t even recall the most night in question she’d been so blindingly drunk, just snippets here and there. She couldn’t even recall exactly when it was if she was honest. It felt a long time ago, longer than six months if she was honest. When she tried to recall any pertinent information it all slid away from her in a fuzzy blur.

Her gaze moved across the bar to Jake. They were to be married in a week and she didn’t know why. He didn’t have any fond feelings for her or the baby. Perhaps if she’d realized she was pregnant before her first trimester was over it would have been the free sex on tap.

But her periods were irregular anyway and she hasn’t been paying attention and it had taken until she was nearly five months along for her to realize she was pregnant and another couple of weeks to work out that she was keeping it and work up her courage to tell Jake. By that time her stomach had begun to expand and Jake wouldn’t go near her in that way with her baby bump, which relieved her if she was honest with herself.

She didn’t know why the Jake had offered to marry her and she didn’t know the hell why she’d accepted when she thought about it clearly. She wasn’t sure her child would be better off with the likes of Jake around. A part of her had thought that the security would be good for her, and it. After all Jake’s job at the cannery wasn’t much but between them that was a more stable income than the single income of a barmaid. She guessed that was a good enough reason. But right now when the fog around her mind cleared a bit, she wondered if she was in fact wrong.

She stared at Jake flirting with her friend, and ex, Ruby near the pool tables. She wondered how much she’d care if he went home with her. Her month quirked up slightly, not that that was likely. Ruby was pretty picky about the men she chose. She doubted Jake would meet up to Ruby’s exacting standards. Plus Rubes wouldn’t take home her fiancé.

For a moment she felt a tinge of regret and wondered if she would feel more enthusiastic about marriage if she were instead engaged to Ruby. They hadn’t worked as a couple but at least she could remember the good times they’d had together. Ruby was as close as she’d come to loving anyone since her mother had died and her inability to love her (or in Ruby’s words "allow herself" to love her) was the reason they’d split up. Still she’d have known her child would be loved and cared for beyond all measure. But it wasn't Ruby or Jake she had dreamt of marrying last night...

“Oi, service her love.” She shook her head to clear away the tantalizing and confusing thoughts of an alternate past and future was almost glad of the of the interruption. Almost.

She scowled at Keith, one of the regulars, who was making no attempt to mask the fact he was staring down her top. “My face is up here.”

He grinned and tsked, “That’s no way to treat your favourite customer.”

“You’re not my favourite customer.” She said flatly, her eyes unconsciously sliding to the man at the end of the bar nursing a glass of The Rabbit Hole’s finest whiskey.

Mr Gold.

The local Pawnbroker and landlord to most of the town and subject of her romantic, verging on erotic, dreams last night. He was the reason she always worked the first of the month and the reason why she was dressed as provocatively as she could right now. He had a reputation as a monster around town but he’d always been good to her.

She enjoyed flirting with Mr Gold; it was safe and easy. He knew the score and let her flirt away and tipped her generously in response. Those tips had been her rainy day fund to leave her life and move away from Storybrooke. But some emergency had always happened and she never did move and now was likely never to. Unless Jake suddenly developed an interest in seeing the world. Which was un-fucking-likely.

Lacey quickly filled Keith’s order with asking what he was having (it wasn’t like it ever changed from the cheapest beer they offered) and focused on the man at the end of the bar. Sometimes it felt like Mr. Gold was an oasis in the desert of her life. The one person that could make her think clearly.

She wasn’t sure why seeing him drew the fog away from her mind. Why something so simple as flirting with him felt right in a way in never did with anyone else.

Maybe it was his immaculate presentation, she thought. His perfectly tailored suits, those crisply folded pocket squares and the shoulder length hair brown hair that should have should have ruined the presentation but somehow just enhanced his appearance.

That must be it: simple attraction to a man who could and would never be hers. He was sophisticated and elegant and must be nearly double her age. She was just the dumb slut who got herself knocked up from a drunken one night stand and didn’t realize until she was five fucking months along. What could he ever see in her? No he just flirted back out of politeness. For whatever reason he wasn’t a monster with her it wasn’t attraction.

He was so perfectly dressed that she wanted to look her best around him, even if she could never compare. Especially not when she felt so fat and bloated from this damn pregnancy. She hadn’t noticed a reduction in her tips -- yet. But she hadn’t been showing this much before. She’d dressed carefully today but even so she couldn’t compare to him.

She leaned against the side counter nearest the door and smiled at him. She shifted her weight towards her elbows and smiled her best sultry smile at him as she displayed the one feature her pregnancy had improved: her cleavage. In her opinion she had gone from barely adequate that department to voluptuous and she intended to make full advantage of it. For all his aloof and gruff demeanour Mr. Gold was still a man. He would not be immune to her feminine wiles if she played them right. But to do that she had to casually, not crassly show off her new best asset or rather: assets.

She batted her eyelashes slightly at him. “Can I get you a refill Mr. Gold?” She asked in her best deep and husky voice leaning forward even more to display her cleavage at the best angle her maternity bra and low cut sleeveless blue top offered.

He shook his head at her, “Just the rent please, Lacey.” He seemed distracted this evening not even really looking at her, his eyes trained somewhere over her head. She glanced back but saw nothing of interest behind her.

She straightened and bit her lip slightly. Of all the men in the bar tonight he was the only one she wanted to really look at her. Not just look at her to engage her in conversation and clear the fog from her from her mind for just a few moments. But how could she do that if he was so taciturn and he didn’t even look at her.

She knew she wasn’t much to look at these days. She had a mirror. Plus Jake had kindly pointed out to her last night she was getting fat and unattractive, just in case her eyes had stopped working. But of all the things that her pregnancy was causing to swell to twice their normal size, her breasts were the only ones that actually improved. She’d been receiving bigger tips all evening from men along the bar. But none were as large as the ones that Mr. Gold could provide.

Her hand shook slightly as she removed the envelope with the rent money from the bottom of the till. She needed that tip. Pregnancies weren’t cheap and since Jake was likely to drink away most of his overtime money she needed a little nest egg for the baby. She’d been flirting with Mr. Gold and getting a tidy little sum of money each month as a bonus for as long as she could remember, for decades it seemed. Which had to be her condition messing with her mind. She was 28, she’d been working her since she was 19 which wasn’t a full decade. And she could remember her childhood. It was seared into her brain. But that all seemed so long ago that at that moment she felt far older than 28 and if anyone had asked her there and then, she wasn’t sure she could have told them how old she was.

She closed her eyes again and breathed carefully for a minute before sauntering over to Mr. Gold. He seemed lost in thought tonight, not scowling at the patrons and terrorizing them about overdue rent payments or threatening to up their rent for breathing too loudly. Perhaps it wasn’t her. But that didn’t solve her tip issue.

She bent forward, trying to get her chest as near to his line of sight as she could, as she handed him the rent. “Dave assures me it’s all here.”

He looked up and definitely caught a view of her chest as his eyes widened before quickly focusing on her left ear. He swallowed audibly before composing himself to respond in a sardonic tone of voice that was barely a whisper. “Well, we’ll just see about that.”

She bit her cheek to stop herself from grinning, he’d definitely been affected by her display even if he hadn’t been in the mood to flirt back.

He finished his count quickly and tossed some bills on the bar nodding sniffly to her as picked up his cane and left the bar.

She looked down at the money he’d left and let herself grin. A $50 tip on a single glass of whiskey? Job well done.

She knelt behind the bar and shoved the tip down her bra (somewhere Jake would never think to look). She patted her stomach lightly. “Might be able to afford to send you to college, little one, if he continues to tip like that.”

She straightened looking at the humming bar and sighed as her feet throbbed in a reminder they were going to kill her before the night was through. She just wanted to head home and enjoy one of her last night’s to herself in well, forever.

Now Mr. Gold had gone the fog and fully settled again and she felt a numbness overtake her at the thought of the rest of the evening, her upcoming nuptials and the rest of her damn life.

#OUAT #OUAT Fan Fiction #Rumbelle #Rumbelle Fan Fiction #My Fanfiction #Fic: The 27 Rules of Lacey French #A Monthly Rumbelling #Golden Lace #Cursed Storybrooke AU

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lyricalafrica2 · 5 years

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Technology and survival tactics.

Well, what a whirlwind month. I'm now solely trying to write my blog from my phone. I'm also having trouble accessing photos downloaded from my camera, so I may have to do that separately. After allowing someone to look through photos on my ipad and having dropped it on concrete, it's never been the same. The screen flickers faster than a humming birds wings. To say I'm upset is a bit of an understatement. When you're so far away from home and it's been a reliable means of working and keeping up to date with everything, it is a huge loss!

I will try to update you with some visuals in due course!

So here I find myself in Zimbabwe. After a few days turned into a week at Vic Falls. Extended as I was really at a loss of what to do. I'd spent so long just hanging around, waiting for people to make decisions, I thought perhaps I was due a little time to just please myself and so I set off.

The falls were spectacular as I remembered them. Such magnificence and such force behind them, it's hard not to be affected by the energy.

It took me two whole days to actually get to the national park, after deciding to have a lie in on the first day after a long 7 hours on the bus from Lusaka. I opted to do an afternoon walking safari with the rhinos. A good decision as far as I was concerned. The experience wasn't busy with copious amounts of tourists and to encounter the whole herd at the one time, with a 14 day old calf, was just something so incredible! Again, a little teary eyed. I will never tire of seeing such animals. They're obviously under 24/7 protection with armed rangers who keep track of them and ensure that they are kept safe and well within the park.

The trek wasn't so long, but the guide was pretty keen to educate us on anything we came across, from impala middens to mopani trees and the pumbas that eyed us from a distance.

I was in my element. I do just feel utter peace when I'm around animals. Whether they're cats and dogs or lions and elephants. Respect them, give them their space and don't underestimate them.

I stayed at the same backpackers as last time Livingstone backpackers. A lively establishment, pretty much unchanged from the previous time where I met my lovely bunch of Norwegian Friends. I pretty much had the dorm to myself, until a German girl Lucy checked in. We got along and so hit the falls together the following day. It was a relief to have a bit of company by that point. Cliques and groups had formed through the volunteer scheme there and being a bit of an introvert around newbies, I'd say hello, but inevitably end up doing my own things.

To spend long in Livingstone, you need money. The activities don't come cheaply, so I chose wisely. I chose the rhinos over the devils pool. At $105 to go and perch on the edge, which I have already done, came literally rather steep. If money was no object then fair enough, but I'm very happy I chose the rhinos, why wouldn't I!?

I ended up going to the falls twice after realising that during full moon there was going to be a lunar rainbow. Slightly anticlimatic even for the locals this time. It has been known to shine much brighter and be more vibrant, but still it was there, if not in all it's glory. Wet and cold, I returned with a small group I'd become acquainted with at the backpackers, eager for the warmth of a hot chocolate.

It was around this point I met Jesus, hailing from Wolverhampton. Even more appropriate was that the couple who I got talking to, who had just booked into the lodge, swore by him. Sorry, I'm not taking the pee, but I had to laugh at the irony. They were very sweet and seemingly took me under their wing for a day or two until I fled the nest that was the backpackers. Sending me on my way with a bar of chocolate and a few other treats for my onward journey. I had made the decision to follow Jesus (or Matt the bearded, named Jesus because this is what the locals called to him as he walked the streets 😏) to Zimbabwe. I figured rather than lounging around the backpackers waiting for things to transpire, I'd take matters into my own hands. Jesus seemed clued up as far as the whole travel thing went. He'd already done the whole west side of Africa including the Congo and Nigeria, and the tip of the continent in S.A. Now he

was venturing back up through central africa, having covered namibia, botswana, a little of southern Zambia and next stop Zimbabwe. Our stories tallied in the fact that we were both overworked, unfulfilled in some way back on home turf and drawn back to Africa, just not in the fact that I could grow a beard of such magnitude.

I arrived in Livingstone Zimbabwe, a day after Matt, on my way across the bridge over the National park (the one where people dice with the health and safety of Zambia, at the end of some stretchy umbilical chord, holding them onto life) I took the usual pictures and selfies. Stopping only momentarily, so locals wouldn't think I was an opportune customer for their wares. I made it through the boarder unscathed with a smile and a cheery greeting and onwards to the meeting point.

My luggage as little as it was, was heavy and I was feeling it through my shoulders and neck. But with the backpackers apparently being five minutes away, it seemed unnecessary to give into a taxi, especially as I'd made it this far.

Well, that was in my head, until a friendly local who had just returned from Zurich to see his family, insisted he give me a lift up the hill. When I walk like that, I'm usually on a mission and I guess it showed! Once I got there, I was pleased he had stopped me. We had a short, but friendly exchange in the five minute ride.

Next piece of the jigsaw was to fathom out the currency of Zim. So for those of you living blindly to the affairs of Zim, apart from the leaders of said country, Zim doesn't exactly have a straightforward currency.

They have blackmarket bond, US dollars and ecocash. Eco cash is a fairly new way of doing things in that, you can buy a simcard for your phone with a company called econet. You buy airtime to concert to data or calls etc, then you can also load it with bond, bought with US dollars. So depending upon the current rate, the deal can be better or worse. If your bought eco rate is better that that of the shop rate, you use your phone to purchase through ecocash. If the eco cash rate is higher that the rate you bought the ecocash for, it's often better to buy with dollars.

If you go to the cash machine in the unlikely event that your foreign card works, you will receive bond, but be charged by you bank in dollars. You can buy bond with dollars if you wish from random floating around the street, but their rate rarely seems to budge above 9.5, even if the official rate is higher. It's to put it crudely, a bit of a headfk. Coupled with the regular load shedding or power cuts due to the low water of Kariba dam, it can make life taxing for citizens of the country. It's true, their country is in a wee bit of a mess and once you get past the ones who make untimely assumptions about you as a foreigner, people are generally lovely and very helpful.

I had a chat with a girl who insisted I take her back to the uk as she loved the "chilly weather". She loved the idea of swimming in the sea. Hmm I thought. I wonder how you'd feel on New Years day? She asked for my necklace. I told her it was a birthday present from my mum. She seemed to understand the significance. We had a brief light hearted conversation before I caught back up with the others.

I'm saying others, I've gotten way ahead of myself....

I've failed to tell you about Man Biscuit arriving later on the same day as us. The first class overnight train to Bulawayo 🤔 the fact that the basin looked initially like a fold down bedpan and that's where I thought the smell was coming from. The buffet dinner that we served ourselves carrot sticks dipped in.. yup more peanut butter. It's all part of the journey so to speak. At times you don't think you can take anymore and then something happens, good or not so and you still come out the other end and hopefully smiling!

So Matt (Jesus) and I decided to go exploring once we'd freshened up from the long journey. We found a lovely cafe with a beautiful garden that did good coffee (always appreciated!) and cake and from there, we worked our way around the inner city blocks until we got to the National Gallery. Big tick from me, that this was a mutually agreed must see. The natural history museum was also on Matt's list, but by the end of the day, we bypassed that in favour of food.

The surprise came when after having a good look around the gallery, I went to see the artists who had studios. They are set off a little garden/courtyard in the center of the building. They are on two levels, and there are probably around ten studios in all. There were only maybe 3/4 studios open that day, though I only made it into two. After opening my mouth and saying how I wished I had a studio, the lady artist, asked if I was also an artist. I said I was and that I really missed my practice. She said that she could put me in touch with someone who I could chat to about it. Uh oh, what have I done? She seemed keen, not just to give me a number, but to find the person for a face to face conversation. Well we did, we talked and at the end of the conversation we were taking about a residency! My only thing was finding suitable, safe and financially agreeable accommodation. Even at the backpackers, it chews into your money quickly. I've always been a one for buying more into experiences than things, (she says this as she watches her ipad have a meltdown and wishes she could be writing her blog on it, rather than thumb typing on her phone...)

And so, why would I pass up on a opportunity to do a residency at the National Gallery? I submitted all I was asked, so I waited for the official, "everything is cleared" and obviously to find a room. It was that evening, when we got back to the backpackers in my semi stunned state, that Man Biscuit arrived or Johannes, from Germany. He had also been on the road for a while and so two became three.

Our little jaunt out the next day saw the three of us hiring a car to take in Matopos National Park, it is a large, rather dramatic park. I liken it in some ways to Yellowstone, for it's large rocky outcrops and almost fosilised trees. The park contains many points of interest, including 360degree views from apex points, cave paintings and war memorials. There are also white rhino and giraffe in this park. The game park another 21 kms down the road has more, but come the end of the day and our mileage limitations with the car hire company, we decided against a trip there too. We'd seen impala by the time we got back to the exit. Lovely, but slightly disappointing, given the promise of rhino. We were starting to think they'd been hidden in some unreachable corner of the park, unaccessible to out little fiat. Only tar roads was our mantra for the day. As a last gasp, we managed to talk a ranger into taking us to see them, having spent most of our dollars on park entry another 60 was going to be a hefty chunk. There were other guests eager to see them from another lodge, so we basically just tagged along, after they'd stalked the bush for an hour trying to locate them. Amongst these guests was an impressive young irishman, cycling across the continent on his own. As lean and lythe as serious cyclists are. It reminded me of my considerations of doing the same one day.

Once we got word, we trekked maybe around a kilometre to the site where a mother and her 14 month old calf stood in the bushes, just grazing away and minding their own. Again, just one of those life defining moments. The mother had her horn removed and her ears were tagged. It's an expensive business to do that and the process takes around 2 hours to complete. It's sad that it has come to not allowing an animal to retain what is rightly theirs, in an attempt to keep them alive. In some cases they're killed anyway by poachers, if they've been following scent trails for days, only to find a hornless rhino, what use is that? And so to reduce their chances of wasting their time again.... well you get the picture, its tragic! I hope though this mother and calf at least get to see out their years. They truly are magical beasts!

And as the sun dipped lower in the sky, and the golden glow lit up the landscape, they backed off further into the bushes.

Their eyesight typically isn't so good, but every now and again, the rangers would give a certain pitched whistle, if they started to look at all unsettled or got too close. Apparently, they think its a bird and this distracts their attention away from their visitors. It was over all to soon and as we made our way back though the bush, catching our legs on thorns and having rogue branches snap back on our shins, your mind turns to the fact that this is someone elses norm. This is their life. 0600 till 1800, six days a week. Trekking through the bush, being near these beautiful beings, taking in this visceral life.

We gave the rangers a lift back through the park, before heading for town. We needed food! We pulled up in a darkened street next to an oxfam truck. We decided to move on from the dubious area after a couple of guys scoped out the trunk as we opened it to grab our wallets. I didn't feel easy, a gut wrenching, not happy came over me, even before we parked up. And there it is, after previous experiences, sometimes you just have to listen. That feeling, this dis-ease it's usually there for a reason.

Again, so much more has happened since that point in time. I have found a new abode with a beautiful family, I am fully immersed in gallery life with opportunities literally pouring out of the woodwork. I still miss my people and I've done a public talk as an artist 😱 been disgustingly ill, found the yoga retreat from heaven where I regularly hang upsidedown like a bat..... and so much more.... but, I think for now, I've given you enough to mull over!

Whatever next? Answers on a postcard, the most imaginative wins... I've sure as hell stopped trying to plan or predict!

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tricksters-captain · 7 years

Text

FP Jones/Andrew’s Family/Riverdale imagines - Oh Dear Part 22

A/N: So I created a pinboard for my fic so go check it out (here)

(Part One)(Part Two)(Part Three)(Part Four)(Part Five)(Part Six)(Part Seven)(Part Eight)(Part Nine)(Part Ten)(Part Eleven)(Part Twelve)(Part Thirteen)(Part Fourteen)(Part Fifteen)(Part Sixteen)(Part Seventeen)(Part Eighteen)(Part Nineteen)(Part Twenty)(Part Twenty-one)

Overall Summary: You’re Archie’s old sister and you have a thing for a certain serpent

This chapter: Based on episode 10 season 2

Pairing: Reader x FP Jones, Sister!Reader x Archie Andrews, Daughter!Reader x Fred Andrews

Word count: 1,652

Warnings: Underage drinking,

“5, 4, 3, 2 ,1! Happy New Year!” You all cheered and screamed, throwing your hands up as the clock struck midnight. Loud rock music boomed through the speakers throughout the Whyte Wyrm and Fp without a second thought slung his arm behind your neck and brought a kiss down to your lips. He leant back with a smirk on his lips and you bit down on your lower lip as you broke into a smile yourself.

“Happy New Year.” He said just loud enough for you to hear.

“Happy New Year.” You repeated before kissing the older man again.

Everyone else in the bar was either locking lips or jumping around in a drunken joy.

You knew Jughead was somewhere out of sight on the other side of the bar with the kid Serpents so you had no worries about getting caught, standing beside one of the pillars using it as a blockade.

You laughed into the kiss as a drunken Serpent cheered you whilst stood in a group of the older generation of male and female Serpents.

Your eyes fluttered open as your alarm went off. You found yourself smiling in your sleep as you remembered that kiss.

New years eve with the Serpents was definitely a night to remember even if parts of it were patchy due to one too many shots but that was a good few days ago and now you had to return to school.

“Hey (Y/n), you didn’t say anything to anyone about my medical bills, did you?” Your dad knocked on your door, holding the bill in his hand as you were fishing through your wardrobe for something to wear.

“No? Why?” You asked, not evening looking back at him and pulling out a pair of jeans.

“Because it’s been paid. The whole $86,000.” Fred told you,

“Well, I’m not the one with friends in high places, am I?” You bluntly put it, looking over your shoulder as Fred sighed.

“Got it.” And with that he left to go ask Archie about it.

Not to your surprise, Veronica’s parent were the ones to pay off the medical bills but not like your Dad knew that. You had managed to ask Archie and Veronica in the hall that morning whilst at school and then the announcement happened.

“Students of Riverdale High, this is your principal speaking. E-mails have been sent to your parents, but effective immediately, Southside High School is shut down. And its students will be transferred to other schools in the district, - including this one. I believe the statement we’re realising will address your concerns. You should receive it shortly. I'm sure you have many questions. But it goes without saying, we are welcoming these students with open minds, hearts and arms. Course schedules or locker assignments. Thank you. That is all.” Principle Weatherbee announced to the whole school via the intercoms and to say that news caused some chaos would be an understatement.

The Southside would be joining the Northside starting tomorrow.

Now that would be an issue for you.

Once the school day was out, you clambered into your car and drove to Pop’s. You knew FP would be there.

“Can I have a word?” You nodded your head, gesturing to the back of the diner.

“What’s wrong?” Fp asked, furrowing his eyebrows as he met you by the back door.

“They’ve shut down Southside High.” You told him. “That means that the Serpents are coming to Riverdale High. And, well, that’s going to make my little secret not a secret anymore.” You gestured to the side of your ribcage where your tattoo sat. The Northside had no clue you were a Serpent but if the Serpents came to school tomorrow in their jackets, well then, you would have to as well.

“Well then, keep your distance. You’re smart, you’ll figure something out.” Fp was aware that Pop was calling his name from the front and so were you.

“I don’t know if I will this time.” You turned and left, leaving Fp to get back to work.

The next morning, you did as you always did and took your jacket in your car but you didn’t wear it into school.

You got their early and got to your locker by the time the Serpents showed.

They all swaggered in; Jughead, Toni, Fang, Sweet Pea and some others that had been transferred.

There, of course, was a clash with the schools very own Cheryl “Bombshell” Blossom and her minions before a single Serpent noticed you.

“There she is.” Sweet Pea approached you as you closed your locker door.

“Hey.” You smiled as you took Toni’s hand and pulled her in for a hug.

“So, this is where you come to be a goody-two-shoes?” Toni teased you.

“Yeah, I noticed you were jacket-less.” Sweet Pea pinched the bare skin on your arm and you moved away from him with a warning glare.

“Well, you try being the only Serpent this side of the tracks with the red-headed dragon you just met running the place.” You leant your back against your locker and looked over to where Cheryl had just been stood before she strutted away,

“Well, you’re not the only Serpent anymore.” Sweet Pea gestured to the group surrounded you.

“That’s right. I’m not.” You smiled innocently, praying he wasn’t going to demand you wear your jacket in that moment.

“Hey, guys!” Jughead called the group over from the other side of the hall where he had just been speaking to Archie. And that’s what saved you. For now.

You had to admit you didn’t like Reggie all that much but what he did later that day by tagging the school crest with a snake also saved your ass.

No Serpent Jackets or tattoos were allowed at school and this meant you were safe whilst you were there but that didn’t mean you could avoid the Serpents altogether.

You didn’t really worry about the students finding out that you were a Serpent. It was the parents of those kids. The principle. The teachers.

The adults of the Northside community find out and then your dad finds out. It was as simple as that.

And then you would never be allowed on the wrong side of the tracks again.

That also meant no Fp and your dad probably fighting Fp since he is the head of the snake and let you become apart of the Serpents.

So, in conclusion, letting the Northside know you’re a Serpent was a bad idea.

“I didn’t know you liked hanging out with dirtbags, (y/n). I thought you were a little better than that.” Cheryl was stood in front of your car as you approached it.

“And I thought you didn’t care about me, Cheryl.” You folded your arms across your chest as you halted in front of her.

“I don’t. But you were a Vixen once, (Y/n).” Cheryl reminded you. You could see from the corner of your eye the Serpents watching you from across the car park. Sweet Pea, especially, had his eyes locked on you.

“And now I’m a snake. Things change.” You said flatly.

“You mean to say ‘(Y/n) “Good girl” Andrews’ is now Southside trash?” Cheryl scoffed, shocked at your announcement.

You opened up the door to your back seat and pulled out your jacket, flinging it around your shoulders.

“We’re not the trash around here, Cheryl Bombshell.” You had no idea where this new found confidence came from but it certainly got some cheers from the Serpents. “Now move.”

“I thought you were smarter than this, (Y/n). I guess I was wrong. You’ve just picked a fight you can’t win.’ Cheryl squared up to you.

“Are you sure about that?” You climbed inside your car and started the engine causing Cheryl to have to move away.

“Quite a show you put on in the parking lot today, (Y/n)!” Sweet Pea clapped as you entered the Whyte Wyrm.

“Well, it was about time Cheryl stopped treating me like her equal and remembering I’m older than her.” You smirked, your eyes flickering over to Fp who didn’t look as amused as the kid Serpents. “Excuse me.” You left the younger Serpents and walked up to FP.

“What happened to keeping down low?” Fp asked,

“She pushed the wrong button today.” You defended yourself, suddenly feeling very small.

“She pushed the wrong button? And what happens when she tells her witch of a mother? Or even tells Fred herself?” Fp threw his arms up onto his waist in frustration.

“Calm down, she wouldn’t do that.” You chuckled slightly, trying to avoid a fight.

“And you would know that how?” Fp snapped.

You took a step back as your face dropped.

“I was just doing what felt right.” You muttered,

“Maybe don’t do anything at all next time.” Fp grumbled in response and with that, you had had enough. You left.

“Real smooth, Fp.” Toni commented as she wiped down the bar top.

Fp sighed and ran a hand over his face.

You pulled up outside your home and successfully hid your jacket once again.

You waited a minute inside your car before getting out and that’s when you felt something very off.

You turned and looked over to the Cooper household, and stood on the front porch was a boy you had never seen before but he had the most intense stare.

“Chic, come on.” Betty called the boy inside but his eyes still lingered on you. Betty called him again and then he disappeared inside.

Who the hell was Chic?

(Part 23)

Tags

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#fp x reader #fp jones #fp jones imagines #fp jones x reader #skeet ulrich imagines #skeet ulrich #skeet ulrich x reader #riverdale imagine #archie andrews #fred andrews #riverdale #reader insert #oh dear #part 22

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bevioletskies · 6 years

Text

it’s my party (and i’ll cry if i want to)

characters: peter/gamora, gamora-centric

summary: gamora hasn’t celebrated her birthday since she was taken from her family, nor can she remember exactly when it is. as her team leader, best friend, and boyfriend, peter is looking to rectify that, with a little help from the others.

a/n: i was inspired by the recent lego video game in which peter threw gamora a surprise birthday party (and the fact today is my birthday, but that's not as relevant). takes place approximately one year after Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2, so groot is about the physical size and mental age of a human six-year-old child. kraglin is here because why not, and nebula returned to be a part of the guardians, because i couldn't imagine writing a gamora-centric fic without her.

fic title is from the song it's my party by lesley gore, though it has absolutely nothing to do with the plot. there is no sad crying (or adultery), i promise!

word count: 11.2k | ao3

“Another job well done, guys!” Peter hovered over the ground for a moment before landing neatly on his feet, lifting a hand to retract his helmet so he could properly look at the rest of his team. “Though Drax, I coulda done without you flinging that Orloni corpse in my face just now. But hey, no harm, no foul!” He held out his free hand for a high-five. Drax returned it with a confused, albeit enthusiastic fist bump. “No, dude, wrong one - ”

“I thought it was going to bite Rocket! Was I not supposed to assist my teammate?” Drax interrupted defensively.

Rocket looked up at him with an incredulous expression. “It wasn’t movin’ no more, man! Though the look on Quill’s stupid face was worth it.”

“Sure, ‘cept now my ‘stupid face’ is covered in blood. Aw man, it’s in my beard,” Peter whined, rubbing profusely at the stubble on his chin. “Crap, Gamora’s gonna be mad - ”

“Gamora’s going to be mad because Peter tried to jump in front of her when that last grenade went off,” Gamora drawled, dropping down from the tree she had been flung into during the explosion. Despite all that, there was barely a scratch to be seen. “Can we got at least one day without you doing something heroically stupid?”

“I prefer ‘stupidly heroic’,” Peter corrected with a grin, holding out his hand for her to take. She merely scoffed, reaching instead for Nebula and Mantis and leading them back towards the Milano, which was sitting less than a hundred feet away, miraculously unscathed from their mission (for once. They really needed to invest in spaceship insurance).

“Ooh, someone’s sleepin’ in the cockpit tonight!” Rocket hollered gleefully.

“Shuddup,” Peter muttered.

The group greeted Kraglin and Groot on board, who were waiting (patiently and impatiently, respectively) for their return. Another day, another job that left their wallets a little fatter, and their clothes a little more permanently dirt-stained. Though every mission was unique and a little more than dangerous, the post-mission routine had become, well, routine. Everyone cycled through the shower as quickly as they could without using too much hot water and pissing off everyone else, while Kraglin got them back in the air, setting off for nowhere in particular.

“Gamo-o-ora.” Sighing, Gamora turned slowly on her heel as she tugged the hem of her tank top all the way down to her hips. Peter was stood in the doorway, trying his very best to look casual as he leaned against its frame. His hair was still damp, his shirt somewhat sticking to his body.

“Quill,” she returned sharply, picking up her sword and stashing it back in its holster. If she let it linger in the air a little longer than necessary so Peter would have to look and remember what she could do with it, no one needed to know.

“C’mon, don’t ‘last name’ me.” Peter stepped further into their bedroom, almost timidly. “I just panicked, okay? I’ve seen you almost die, like, a million times. I wasn’t about to let you slip through my fingers again.”

“By having me watch you die instead. Good idea,” Gamora said sarcastically, folding her arms across her chest. “How many times do I have to say this, Peter? I don’t need you to protect me. You don’t get to treat me like I’m vulnerable.”

“I don’t think you’re vulnerable, I think you’re valuable,” Peter protested. “I know we’re out here tryin’ to ‘guard the galaxy’ or whatever, but this team wouldn’t even exist without you. You were what made all this happen in the first place. So, sorry if I don’t wanna treat you like you’re expendable. Because you’re anything but.”

She bowed her head, nodding slowly in consideration. He watched hesitantly as she stepped closer to him, sliding her arms around his waist in forgiveness, her hands clasped behind his back. He grinned as he embraced her in return, catching a whiff of her shampoo as he nuzzled into her hair. She was warm, steady, familiar. “Okay,” she said quietly. “Okay, you’re right. And I would have done the same for you, so I guess I’m in no position to judge.”

“You can judge a little,” he teased. “I’ve done some pre-tty questionable shit.”

“I’ll get the story about that A’askvariian someday,” Gamora said, breaking into a soft smile. He groaned, shaking his head vehemently as he leaned his forehead against hers in affection. With a quiet laugh, she released him so she could take his hand in hers, leading him back outside to join the others. ______

“No, no, no, we are not dealin’ with the stupid Sovereign again - ”

“Shall I remind you that our Sovereign encounter was entirely your fault?”

“Technically, it was Nebula’s fault, she was the one scroungin’ around for those batteries in the first place - ”

“What about this mission? It looks quite harmless to me.”

“You say that about everythin’, Mantis, and look where it got us the last time we let you decide!”

“Peter getting poisoned was not my fault. He should know better than to accept food from a stranger. Even I know that, and I grew up on a planet in complete isolation with no understanding of social interaction - ”

“You gonna bring that up every time you screw up? ‘Cause it’s gettin’ real old, real fast.”

“Do not be so callous, Rocket! She is young and incredibly inept, she doesn't know any better - ”

“Uh, thank you, Drax, but I am not a child - ”

“I am Groot!”

“I do not mean to offend, Groot, you are perfectly clever for, uh - how old are you again?”

Peter winced as he and Gamora rounded the corner of the corridor into the common area. He wasn’t so sure he wanted to leave their bedroom after all. “Hey, hey, guys! Can we stop bein’ dicks for like, five minutes, and have dinner like regular folk?”

“Well, well, well. Look who kissed and made up,” Rocket proclaimed loudly, jumping down from the table to gesture at Peter and Gamora’s joined hands. “What’d ya do, Quill? Promise to rub her feet? Polish her sword?” He snickered at his own euphemism before disappearing into the kitchen to grab plates. Drax followed closely behind to help bring out the food, their argument seemingly already forgotten.

“You okay, Mantis?” Peter asked, ignoring Rocket’s usual...Rocket-ness. “I don’t blame you for the poison thing, by the way, that was on me. Stranger danger, and all that.”

“I’m fine, thank you for asking,” Mantis said, brightening. “I am glad you two made up so quickly. Everything feels much calmer when you are in sync.”

“I wish we could say the same for everyone else,” Gamora sighed, taking her seat across from the other girl. “Where’s my sister?”

“Terrorizing Kraglin upstairs,” Mantis said cheerfully. “If there is any turbulence, it is probably her doing.” Peter winced as he sat beside Gamora, debating on whether to interfere.

“Relax, I’m here.” Nebula descended the ladder from the cockpit, looking as uninterested in anything and everything as always. “Have you gotten over yourselves yet?”

“Nebula,” Gamora said firmly. Nebula only shrugged with a sly smirk before sitting on Gamora’s other side. “Mantis, what’s next on our mission docket?”

“Nothing too interesting,” Mantis admitted. “We have some offers, but the only one that would be a safe bet for us does not give us very much pay-off. All the others are far too risky, even with our capabilities. Maybe we should just...wait.”

“Wait?” Gamora repeated. The others began filing into the room, Drax holding two large serving dishes of food, and Rocket balancing more cutlery on a tall stack of plates than what could be deemed remotely safe. “Can we afford to wait?”

“The payout from the Nova Corps is still holding us over pretty well, Gamora, I wouldn’t worry,” Peter reminded her. “We can afford to take a few days off. It’ll be fun!”

“Fine, but let’s not get too comfortable,” Gamora replied. “We don’t need a repeat of the last time Kraglin convinced you to go to Contraxia.”

“Still findin’ glitter in weird places,” Peter said proudly. Rocket gagged exaggeratedly at the implications. “And c’mon, it was my birthday! Everyone should get to party on their birthday!” He paused. “Wait, Gamora. We’ve been a team for more than a year now.”

“Astute observation,” Gamora said dryly. She reached for the serving spoon so she could dish out a portion of food for Groot, who was banging on the table impatiently.

“I don’t know when your birthday is,” Peter frowned. She froze, her hand still hovering in mid-air.

“Neither do I,” she muttered, resuming her movements as if nothing happened.

An awkward silence fell over the table as everyone watched Gamora pass Groot his filled plate. He seemed unbothered by the uncomfortable atmosphere, happily digging in without hesitation, while the others stared at Gamora like she’d grown an extra head. “Really?” Peter said finally.

“Well, it’s hardly important,” Gamora countered. “It’s just a symbolic passage of time. There’s nothing worth celebrating.”

“Nothing worth - Gamora, how come you don’t know when your birthday is?” Peter exclaimed.

“Oh, I don’t know, excruciating physical and psychological torture for a generous estimate of about - let’s say, fifteen years? - will do that to you,” Nebula snorted.

“You don’t answer for me, Nebula,” Gamora snapped. Then, gentler, “Peter, it’s not a big deal, okay? So just…let it go.” She didn’t have to look at him to know he was wearing that doe-eyed expression of his, a sort of sadness that she couldn’t quite understand. There were times where Gamora admitted to finding gaps in her own history, which led to Peter feeling immensely guilty for being so openly nostalgic about his. Really, it didn’t bother her at all. His enthusiasm for his childhood was endearing, and it was one of the first things she had come to love about him so deeply. She simply didn’t share the same sentiment, especially when so much of it was lost to her forever.

The rest of the evening slipped into night rather quietly. Everyone milled about the ship a little more politely than usual, especially when Gamora was around. It was when she returned to the bedroom, again, that she found Peter wanted to apologize to her profusely, again. “I swear I have foot-in-the-mouth syndrome sometimes,” he said with a relieved chuckle after she had accepted his apology. “I gotta get better at it. Not having it, that is, not getting better at it.”

“I’ve gotten pretty used to your lack of a filter at this point,” Gamora said, settling in under the thick duvet covers. “It’s hard to be around a person for eighteen months and not pick up on their habits.”

Peter smiled as he crawled across the bed to join her, draping an arm around the back of her shoulders. “Eighteen months...it’s weird to think about, hey? And you and me...fourteen and counting. Hopefully.” She hummed, leaning into him as she opened the book she’d been reading.

“I’m still here, aren’t I?” she teased. He laughed, pressing a quick kiss against her forehead before settling into the pillows, pleasantly warm from both the blanket and Gamora’s body heat. They fell into an easy silence as Gamora read her book and Peter idly flipped through the team finances on his tablet, commenting out loud every now and then (“D’you think we can convince Drax to buy less meat, because our food budget can’t handle his appetite for stew much longer” and “Okay, Rocket is definitely underreporting his ammo spending - look here, he’s missing at least two zeros!”). After an hour or so had passed, Gamora looked up from her book, looking contemplative. “I remember more of my childhood than Nebula does of hers, I think.”

“Your family?” Peter asked, setting his tablet down.

“My parents,” she corrected. She closed her book and laid it carefully in her lap. “I - we - didn’t have much of an extended family. So it was just me, my mother and father, in one small house. Sometimes it...it comes back to me in bits and pieces. The color of my bedroom walls. The sound of my mother’s laugh. Things like that.” He nodded silently, prompting her to continue. “I remember...I remember my birthday was in autumn. On Zehoberei, it was when everything grew in. The trees, the flowers...going to school was like a nature walk, every day.”

“Did you ever do anything special?” he asked quietly.

“My father would make my favorite meal for dinner,” Gamora shrugged. “I don’t remember what it was, but I know we didn’t have it very often. Otherwise, no. Birthdays just weren’t something my people saw as a special occasion.”

Peter intertwined their fingers together, squeezing comfortingly. He brought their joined hands to his mouth, pressing a kiss into her knuckles. She couldn’t help but smile, curling into him a little closer. “The way that Terrans see it, it’s a way to celebrate the person’s existence. And I think it sucks we don’t have a special day to celebrate your existence, because you definitely deserve one.”

“You think I deserve to be celebrated.” It wasn’t a question. Peter’s heart broke a little to hear Gamora sound so uncharacteristically small, to see her large, dark eyes blink up at him, the coolness in her expression betrayed by the slight tremble in her lip. He supposed she’d spent years being told her worth was measured by her kill count. She probably still did in a way, only now, it was about how many people she could save. She was trying to overcome it, though, to see her value in quality, not quantity, to believe in her own goodness without it being tied to a number.

“I know you do,” he said fiercely. “And since we have the next couple days off, why don’t we do something, just for you? We don’t have to call it your birthday or anything. I just wanna make you happy.”

“I am happy,” she insisted. “I’m actually happier than I’ve been in a very long time. Maybe the happiest I’ve ever been. And maybe that isn’t obvious to everyone else, but...it is to me.”

“Still,” he said. “We get on your nerves. We drive you up the freaking wall sometimes, probably me more than anyone else since we spend so much time together. If we could have just one day focusing on what you want…”

Gamora was silent for a moment, thoughtful. She gently pulled her hands out of his grasp so she could slide her arms around his torso, turning onto her side so she could fully face him. He smiled down at her. “I’ve mentioned this before, but I never had a romantic relationship before you,” she said, squeezing him affectionately. “And yes, you do get on my nerves. Constantly. Consistently.” Peter frowned. “But...I’ve never been so grateful to be annoyed by someone on a daily basis,” she laughed. “So, as extraneous as this all seems - which is really saying something, considering some of the ideas you’ve come up with before - I think having a day for myself sounds perfect. Whatever that means.”

“It’s up to you,” Peter said, brightening. “Whatever you want, you let me know. I’m all yours.”

“You are,” she hummed, her hands now moving to cup his jawline, her thumb tracing an invisible line across his cheekbone. “And I think I know what I want to start with.” ______

“You think it’s a bad idea.”

“I didn’t say that,” Mantis said, a little too quickly. “I just - ”

“Gamora’s the one keepin’ us together. If it wasn’t for her, we’d either be super broke or super dead,” Peter interrupted, frowning. “I just want her to know we care about her, that’s all.”

“Peter.” Mantis reached across the table to clasp his hand. “I understand. I just...I think she already knows. And I worry that this is more about what you want, and not what she wants.”

“I told you not to do that.” Peter yanked his hand out from under hers, leaning back in his chair as his frown deepened. “And what do you mean? This is about Gamora.”

“Is it?” Mantis straightened up, blinking slowly. It was almost hypnotizing, watching her eyelashes flutter so deliberately. “In the time we have known her, has she ever cared much about what others thought of her?”

“Everyone does, they just lie about it all the time and say they don’t,” Peter retorted.

“Maybe. But from what I can read of her, she does not value it nearly as much as you do.” Mantis twisted her mouth consideringly. “I just do not think this is something Gamora needs, that’s all.”

“You think I’m being selfish.” Peter scoffed, shaking his head. “Mantis, I cannot believe - ”

“Hey!” They both startled, turning to see Gamora had entered the common area, eyeing them suspiciously. “Are you two arguing over the broadcast controls again?”

“Yes?” It came out more like a question, but Mantis had never been a very good liar. “Did we disturb your meditation?”

“A little, but it’s alright,” Gamora replied, waving her off dismissively. “It may keep me calm, but Nebula won’t stop asking if we’re done yet every thirty seconds. Then it’s as good as useless when that happens.” She took her seat next to Peter, squeezing his shoulder briefly in proper greeting.

“I heard we are having a day in celebration of you,” Mantis said, smiling impishly.

“Peter’s idea, but...I don’t entirely hate it,” Gamora admitted, pulling down one of the touch screens from the ceiling so she could start reading through their recent messages. “I haven’t given it much thought. What I want, I mean.”

“Could probably start with getting Rocket to lay off everyone for a day,” Peter muttered.

“I’m looking for peace and quiet, not a miracle,” Gamora snorted. She opened one particular message that caught her eye. “Peter...what is this?” Mantis craned her neck in an attempt to read it, though it was entirely backward from her side of the table.

“I...may have made...some...contact with people who know a lot about Zehoberei culture,” Peter said, wincing. “I wanted it to be a surprise - that is, if it worked out. Clearly, we don’t have the money this guy wants in exchange for whatever he’s got, so scratch that off my list of dumb ideas.”

“It’s not dumb,” Gamora frowned. “A little last-minute, maybe, if this is going to be tomorrow. I was thinking something more low-key. You know I don’t need much.”

“Like what?” Mantis asked curiously.

They both watched Gamora in silence as she drummed her fingers idly on the table, thinking it over. “It would be nice to have a day off from all of my extra duties,” she said finally.

“Done. We can split ‘em among us,” Peter nodded.

“And I know you two in particular hate combat training, but exercise keeps me focused,” Gamora continued. “That is, when no one else is around to bother me. And yes, Peter, that means you, too.”

He laughed. “I get to take a day off from that crazy boot camp routine you made for me? I ain’t complaining. Anything else?”

Gamora smiled softly, reaching to take Peter’s hand in hers. Mantis had to bite her lip to stop herself from cooing out loud. “Do you remember one of our first ‘dates’? Granted, I told you I had no interest in going on any to begin with, since we already spend every waking hour in each other’s company and it seemed like a good way to waste units - ”

“Yes, which kinda hurt my ego, thanks,” Peter grimaced. “Why?”

“You made this meal that you said was your mother’s favorite, something she tried to teach you to cook as a child. It wasn’t half-bad.” Gamora’s grin widened at the memory. “I would like that for dinner, instead of whatever stew that Drax has prepared for us.”

Peter beamed in return, lifting their joined hands to his mouth to kiss her knuckles. It was a bit of an old-fashioned notion he had seen in his mother’s old movies, but it made Gamora blush a little every time. “You got it. That might’ve been my favorite date we ever had.”

“We’ve had maybe three, and one of them ended with you in the hospital,” Gamora reminded him, withdrawing her hand.

“You really did not have to threaten that man, Peter,” Mantis interjected unhelpfully. “He never said anything about you being a poor dancer. I think you just imagined it.”

“Okay, so I was a little drunk that night. It happens, let’s move on,” Peter grumbled. “We take care of your chores, you work out alone, and I make you dinner. Are you sure there’s nothing else you can think of? Some new weapon you wanna buy, somewhere you wanna visit?”

Gamora shook her head adamantly. “I don’t need much,” she repeated. “Whatever and whoever is on this ship is all I need.” Peter smiled at her rather sappily, leaning across to briefly peck her on the cheek. He pulled away at the sound of a retching noise in the doorway.

“How do I always walk in at the wrong time?” Rocket yawned exaggeratedly as he strolled in, Groot in tow. “I heard we’re doin’ something special for you, Gam. You figure out what you want yet?”

“Just a day off,” she replied, turning to look at them. Groot let out a happy squeak, taking a running leap into her lap. She let out a startled oof before settling him down properly, her arms draped loosely around his midsection. “And I picked tomorrow’s dinner menu. We should really tell Drax to stop cooking everything medium-rare, by the way. I think it’s why Groot’s been having stomachaches.” Groot nodded sagely in agreement.

“Really? That’s it? Sounds real boring t’ me,” Rocket said, wrinkling his nose. “Where’s your sense of excitement, Gam?”

“Some of us can make do without materialism. Some of us don’t have expensive taste in weapons and booze,” Gamora retorted. “Rocket, for once, can you report your numbers correctly? There’s a giant black hole where your ammo spending should be.”

“Dammit,” Rocket muttered under his breath. Relenting, he hopped up onto the table and yanked out a crumpled pile of receipts from inside his vest pocket. “Okay, Mom, whatever you say. Geez, you’re really on a roll with diggin’ into everyone today.”

“There’s just a lot of little things around here that can be improved. It’s not a personal attack,” Gamora said, narrowing her eyes.

“You’re tellin’ me. All you ever do is yell at everyone, ‘cept Groot and Mantis. Even Quill’s getting sick of it, I bet,” Rocket snorted.

“Leave me outta this, man,” Peter said. “Besides, I was the one who brought up your underreporting in the first place.”

“Oh, great! So I hafta blame you for all of this!” Rocket slammed his paw down on the wrinkled receipts. “You’re a real piece of work when you work together, y’know that?”

“So you being a big fat liar is my problem now?” Peter exclaimed. “Get over yourself, dude!”

“Hey! Walk it off. Both of you,” Gamora snapped. “You’re scaring Groot.” The little one was, indeed, trembling against Gamora’s shoulder. Peter and Rocket instantly looked guilty at what they had done. Mantis looked like she was considering interfering, but decided against it.

Gamora sighed to herself as she watched Peter get up and leave to join Kraglin in the cockpit, while Rocket turned away to unroll his latest blueprint. She smiled weakly as Mantis patted her hand in sympathy. Peace and quiet around here? What were you thinking, Gamora thought. Tomorrow might not be quite the day I’m looking for, after all. ______

It was late afternoon when Peter and Kraglin were wrapping up the last of their route planning in the cockpit, preparing to join the others for dinner. Groot very suddenly came hurtling up the ladder, grinning so toothily that Peter was worried Mantis had slipped him one too many Vrellnexian candies. “Hey, buddy, what’s up? You need somethin’?” he asked.

“I am Groot!” Groot exclaimed excitedly.

“I dunno about that, kid,” Kraglin drawled, getting to his feet. “I’ll see ya both downstairs, Pete.” He clapped Peter on the shoulder briefly before leaving, ruffling the top of Groot’s head as he passed him.

“You don’t have to get Gamora anything, Groot. It’s not s’posed to be her ‘birthday’, it’s just like, a fun day where she gets to do whatever she wants,” Peter shrugged. “And apparently, all she wants is a break from us. Can’t blame her.”

“I am Groot,” he insisted, crawling into Peter’s lap. Peter leaned around him to engage the safety lock on the dashboard - they had all learned the hard way what happened if Groot got too close to the navigation controls, now that he was big enough to use them. Mantis was still nervous about standing too closely to the landing ramp. “I am Groot?”

“Doesn’t sound bad, actually,” Peter admitted. “But mostly because she totally loves you the most. You don’t pi - uh, annoy her as much as I do.”

Groot pouted, his huge eyes growing even larger in worry. “I am Groot?”

“Nah, we’re not havin’ problems,” Peter reassured him. “I just drive her crazy sometimes, and not in a good way.”

“I am Groot,” Groot conceded, pointing to the other pilot’s seat.

“Yeah, Rocket’s a different story,” Peter grumbled. “Sometimes I think all he ever wants is to make me mad. He’s still my friend, though.” He smiled down at the little one. “Don’t worry, Groot. I love the team, you know that. But we’re family, and families fight. Doesn’t mean I want any of ‘em gone. And what Gamora said earlier, I know she feels the same way. She doesn’t yell because she wants to yell, she yells ‘cause she cares. Even if it don’t sound that way at first,” he added, chuckling.

Groot, both satisfied and relieved at the answer, sprawled across Peter’s lap, his head coming to rest against Peter’s steady heartbeat. “I am Groot?”

“Yeah, we can hang out up here until dinner’s ready,” Peter replied, rubbing Groot’s back. “Man, you’re getting heavy.”

Mantis called them down soon after, squealing delightedly at the sight of Groot sitting on Peter’s shoulders. “Oh, how cute! Can I take a picture, please?” she begged.

“Sure,” Peter laughed, bouncing Groot exaggeratedly. Gamora smiled fondly at the sight, walking over to affectionately kiss them both on the cheek. “Hey, Gamora. What’ve you been up to?”

“Dividing up my chores for tomorrow,” she replied, holding up her tablet. “I forgot how much I had planned.”

“Sounds great,” Peter said weakly. “What’d I get stuck with?”

“Relax,” she teased. “I’ll have you know, I was quite kind to you.”

“So I didn’t get stuck with garbage disposal?” Peter crossed his fingers behind his back.

“I have to share a bed with you, don’t I?” Gamora drawled. “No, I left that to Drax. Besides, I think he secretly likes having to put on a spacesuit and float around aimlessly for ten minutes while he waits for the incinerator to finish. You, on the other hand, get to answer all the team correspondence. That includes the check-in with the Nova Corps, fending off recruitment from the Confederacy, and the fanmail.”

“How is that being kind?” Peter exclaimed, nearly startling Groot who had been falling asleep against the back of his head. “There’s so many weirdos out there who send us stuff.”

“Most of which is directed at me,” she reminded him. “If it’s not men sending me unsolicited pictures and requests, it’s people begging for my head on a platter.” She looked away for a moment, shivering involuntarily at the memories she had tried so hard to forget. “We made a public contact address so we could help people that don’t usually have anyone else to turn to. But it attracts a lot of cruelty, too, and I’m usually the one reading it. Every last word. So if you could do this for me, just this once…”

“You’re right,” Peter nodded, giving her a rueful smile. “I promise I’ll keep the complaining to a minimum.” Pleased, Gamora squeezed his arm in silent appreciation before moving to sit down at the table. “Wait, what kind of pictures?”

“Take a wild guess.” Peter shuddered. Right.

Dinner was when Gamora officially gave out everyone’s assignments, much to their chagrin. Groot, of course, was given nothing to do, though Rocket roped him into helping him take inventory. Kraglin also got away without an extra task, since he was usually in the cockpit, keeping an eye out for enemies or obstructions. Drax was strangely okay with the garbage disposal assignment, and Mantis didn’t mind having to clean the kitchen and bathroom. Nebula, however, had some choice words about getting stuck with handling team finances.

“You’re trusting me with money? You must have truly lost your mind, sister,” Nebula deadpanned.

“It won’t take long. We barely spent or earned anything this week,” Gamora promised. “Just an hour of your time at most.” Nebula grumbled under her breath unintelligibly, in what Gamora assumed was very reluctant acceptance of her fate.

“At least I get to spend the day with my toys,” Rocket admitted, brightening. “Wait ‘til you guys see what I got cookin’ up!”

“For the last time, Rocket, a one-shot gun won’t help us if it doesn’t have a targeting system!” Peter groaned, rubbing his hands over his eyes. Gamora patted him on the leg underneath the table before another argument could break out, again.

After dinner and a healthy round of complaints, everyone retreated to their respective bedrooms. Gamora was last to return, smiling briefly at Peter who was already sitting on their bed, before noticing the crease in his brow. She sat on the end of the mattress, resting her hand on his forearm. “Is something wrong?”

“I guess I didn’t realize how much stuff you take care of until you read it all out,” Peter frowned. “What the hell are the rest of us doing, then?”

“You handle ship maintenance, Rocket is in charge of weapon development…” Gamora trailed off. “I suppose Mantis interferes when personal matters get out of hand. Drax has been teaching her how to fight. But...you’re right. When we aren’t out on a job, things are a little slow around here.”

Peter laid back on his pillow, though his gaze remained on her, saddened. “Sounds like we’re taking advantage of you.”

“I like being busy,” Gamora shrugged. “Though I guess comparatively, I don’t get much time to myself.”

“Next time you get a creepy message, I can deal with it instead, okay?” Peter squeezed her hand. “Hey, maybe I can send back a picture of my own! That’ll freak ‘em out.”

“Please don’t,” Gamora groaned. “I’m almost certain that’s considered harassment, and we don’t need to soil your reputation any more than you’ve already done.”

“What’re you talkin’ about? I have a great reputation! Star-Lord, kickass leader of the Guardians of the freaking Galaxy - ”

“Who is currently banned from five planets for petty crimes, has an arrest record longer than his resumé, and became famous for challenging a genocidal Kree warlord to a dance-off.” Gamora patted his stomach consolingly. “There are many who think of you fondly, Peter, myself included, but you aren’t exactly universally known for your competence.”

“You wound me, honey. I think my heart actually hurts now,” he proclaimed, clutching dramatically at his chest. Rolling her eyes, she threw one knee over his torso so she was straddling him, lowering her upper body to press up against his.

“You poor thing,” Gamora drawled. “Do you need me to make it feel better?”

“Yes, please,” Peter said lowly, his eyes half-lidded. He cupped the back of her head so he could bring her in for a kiss. ______

On the morning of Gamora’s not-birthday, Peter woke to find Gamora was feeling generously handsy, certainly nothing to complain about. She was practically glowing by the time they slipped out of their bedroom to join the others for breakfast, accepting the lovingly prepared meal from Drax and a slightly too-tight hug from Mantis.

“I should hug you more often. You smell very nice,” Mantis said happily into Gamora’s hair.

Gamora blinked. “Thank...you?”

Once breakfast was over, Gamora retreated to the basement level where they had a makeshift gym. She usually trained with Nebula or Mantis - Drax was too boisterous for her taste, and although she occasionally mentored Peter, he was wholly distracting on several different levels - but today was her day, and her day meant a full hour to herself. The others, meanwhile, started working on their assigned duties. Rocket took Groot to the storage room, Drax gathered up an excessive amount of garbage bags from the supply closet, and Mantis grimaced as she disappeared into the bathroom, knowing Drax had been the last one in there.

Peter and Nebula were the only ones left in the common area, with Peter using Gamora’s tablet to read and respond to their correspondence, while Nebula spread out all of their invoices and payments over the table’s surface, the team ledger sat open by her elbow.

“Do you have to do this here?” Nebula said snidely as Peter settled in at the table, a few seats down from her.

“Do you?” Peter retorted without looking up.

Nebula sneered at him in lieu of an actual response, angrily snatching up the invoice nearest to her and slamming it down forcefully on the table’s surface. In hindsight, she probably despised Peter even more now, considering he had been the one to suggest they keep a physical financial record in case their database ever got hacked. Considering she had hacked their system the day she returned to the Guardians, it wasn’t much of a stretch.

The first few messages Peter encountered were easy enough - overly-descriptive pleas for the Guardians’ help with relatively small tasks, like finding lost pets or fighting over property rights. Peter politely directed them towards the right authorities, though he couldn’t help but shake his head at the thought of actually helping with any of these missions.

The check-in with the Nova Corps was the usual dull report, informing the officers that no, they hadn’t caused any trouble lately, and yes, they had saved some lives and destroyed some bad guys. He didn’t blame Nova Prime one bit for wanting to make sure she put her faith in the right people, but sometimes, she came across as more of a concerned parent than a military commander. Her last email even had her inquiring about how much Groot had grown since she’d seen them four months ago at an intergalactic council meeting on Aakon.

And oh boy, Peter winced, here we go. An onslaught of messages with Gamora’s name in the subject line, ranging from parents expressing gratitude on behalf of their daughters, to angry ex-convicts threatening to hunt her down, to, yes, men with too many fantasies and not enough filters.

“You’re making a dumb face.” Peter startled, having forgotten that Nebula was even there. “Well, dumber than usual.”

Ignoring her, Peter turned the tablet around so Nebula could see. “Did Gamora ever tell you about these?”

Nebula squinted at the screen, scanning it briefly. Suddenly, her pen broke between her fingers, causing Peter to jump again. “What? No! Who are these people?” she barked.

“Huge dicks. Well, not literally, this guy’s definitely - anyways.” Peter coughed, shriveling a little under Nebula’s glare. “I mean, I knew that we sometimes got messages from people that Thanos had you guys attack or whatever, but I didn’t know this crap was happening, too.”

“I will rip them apart, piece-by-piece, slowly, deliberately, until - ” Nebula growled before Peter interrupted her.

“Yeah, no, let’s not get in any more trouble, okay? It’s a miracle Nova Prime let you stay and go on jobs with us, and we ain’t about to mess that up. Right?”

Nebula exhaled harshly. Peter could practically see steam blowing out of her ears. “Fine. But suddenly, you don’t seem so awful in comparison, Quill.”

“I don’t know whether to be offended or thankful.” Peter narrowed his eyes at her. “I’m gonna go with - do you still really not like me? Is it ‘cause I’m dating your sister? Because I don’t want that to change.”

Nebula averted her gaze, turning away from him. “Of all our siblings, I hated Gamora the least. She may have been responsible for the majority of my implants, but she was also the only one who kept me company. She made sure I had enough to eat, that I would sleep if I became exhausted. My life...it would be very different without her in it. I just want to make sure the people in her life deserve to be there. And I never thought she would want to be in a romantic relationship, let alone with someone as unpredictable and annoyingly cheerful as you.”

“I’ll have you know that other people find it super charming,” Peter grinned. “But fair enough. And Nebula...you should know I’m lookin’ out for you too, okay? Even if you do scare the shit out of me most of the time.”

“That’s what I’m aiming for,” Nebula smirked, sitting up. “Since Gamora likes you so much, I...suppose you aren’t so bad. And you didn’t have to take me in after everything that I have done. But you did. So...thank you. I guess.”

Peter blinked. “Was there a gas leak just now? Or did you hit me on the head? I swear I just heard - ”

“I’m not saying it again, Quill.”

He laughed. “Seriously, though, that was all Gamora. She’s been advocating for you from day one, even back before we picked you up on Sovereign. And I trust her judgment.”

Nebula nodded slowly. “Against all odds...so do I.” ______

Gamora made her way up the ladder from the basement level, pleasantly sweaty and energized from her workout. She nearly audibly gasped at the sight of Peter and Nebula sat at the table in the common area, working in relative peaceful silence, aside from the occasional chuckle from Peter that earned him an almost playful elbow in the gut.

Admittedly, at the beginning of her romantic relationship with Peter, she hadn’t given much thought to what Nebula would say. Part of her thought there was a chance she would never see her sister again, not after she took off in search of Thanos. But once Nebula came back, her thoughts were practically consumed with worry over how Nebula would fit in with her new family, with these new people that she loved. She wanted the team to treat Nebula with respect and kindness, yes, but she also became anxious just thinking of how Nebula would treat them. She supposed Nebula having issues with Rocket and Drax were inevitable, she seemed relatively apathetic towards Kraglin, and was surprisingly tactful towards Groot, but Nebula’s feelings towards Peter were a mystery.

There was no denying nowadays that Peter had become not only her boyfriend, but her best friend. They could talk for hours about everything and nothing at all, protected each other in ways that they didn’t know were possible, and often felt happiest in each other’s company. But Gamora knew that Nebula had her, and only her, and maybe Nebula would feel that Peter was a replacement in some ways. Maybe she would resent Peter for reasons far beyond her surface-level irritation with his personality, but because he fulfilled certain voids in Gamora’s emotional wellbeing that she never could.

Still, as Gamora watched the two people she cared for most in the world engage in harmless bickering, she felt her eyes grow hot with tears of joy. It certainly wasn’t a sight she got to see every day. “I’m surprised I haven’t heard any threats of bodily harm,” she commented as she fully entered the room, hoping she didn’t sound as emotional as she felt.

“I think we’re bonding,” Peter announced.

“No,” Nebula said flatly.

Peter shrugged in acceptance. Gamora glanced between them, still wondering what had caused such unusual camaraderie. “Temporary truce on my behalf, then?”

“Sure, let’s go with that,” Peter said cheerfully. “How was your workout?”

“Productive.” Gamora shook her hair out of her ponytail and sat down between Peter and Nebula. “I hope you can say the same.”

“Got rid of all those weirdos,” Peter said triumphantly, holding out the tablet for her to see. “Replied to about eighty percent of everything else. I sent Nova Prime that picture Mantis took of me and Groot yesterday, she’s gonna love it.”

“That’s great progress,” Gamora smiled. “Thank you, Peter.” Nebula let out an exaggerated groan of annoyance. Sighing, Gamora turned around to face her sister. “What now?”

“If I had known you made it official with Quill, I might not have come back,” Nebula sneered, shoving a stack of invoices aside, nearly sending them flying.

“You don’t mean that,” Gamora said quietly.

Nebula blinked, looking uncharacteristically guilty. “No, I...I don’t.”

Gamora turned away for a moment, Nebula’s gaze too intense for her to reciprocate. “You never did tell me why you came back.”

“You were right, okay? Is that what you wanted to hear?” Nebula spat very suddenly. “I couldn’t do it. I was so close to returning to Sanctuary, but I couldn’t do it. All I could hear was your stupid voice, asking me to stay with your precious Guardians. Telling me we could work together. And I knew...I knew I needed you.” She curled a little into herself. “I needed my sister.”

Gamora shuffled forward on her chair, reaching to pull Nebula into an awkward, half-seated hug. Nebula let out a grunt of discomfort, but awkwardly patted Gamora on the back regardless. “I need you, too. Always,” Gamora murmured. “I really am glad you’re here, Nebula. I don’t think any family of mine is complete without you.”

“You’ve become disgustingly sentimental,” Nebula scowled, though it was without the usual bite in her voice. “Father would hate it.”

“Well, Thanos isn’t in control of us anymore. We are in control.” Gamora pulled back so she could take Nebula’s hands. “We’ll take him on some day, Nebula, I promise. We’ll get him back for everything he has ever done to us, everything he’s done to all those people out there who didn’t deserve it. It’ll take some time, but we’ll do it. Together.”

Both sisters jumped a little at the sudden sound of a sharp inhale. They had forgotten Peter was sitting beside them, sniffling a little. “That was real nice,” he commented. Gamora narrowed her eyes at him, unimpressed. Really? “A-a-and I’ve ruined it. Okay, I’m gonna go finish this upstairs. You guys enjoy!” With one last awkward salute, Peter practically sprinted up the ladder, tablet in tow. ______

By the afternoon, Peter, Nebula, and Drax had long finished their chores, while Rocket and Mantis struggled in comparison. Drax offered to help Mantis finish cleaning up the kitchen, while Peter joined Rocket and Groot in the storage room. Nebula mysteriously vanished right after lunch, but as long as she left Kraglin alone, Gamora couldn’t be bothered to hunt her sister down.

Gamora curled up on her and Peter’s shared bed, her only company being her book and Peter’s Zune. She had taken to borrowing it every now and then, confessing there were considerable portions of its library that she really enjoyed, even some that he didn’t particularly like himself. It was fine by him - Gamora’s new appreciation for music made him happy, even if her tastes weren’t exactly the same.

It took her a moment to find the page she was on, settling in against the pillow that was mostly permeated with Peter’s cologne. She smiled as she passed the chicken scratch on the inside cover - for Gamora - in Rocket’s handwriting. It was no secret that Rocket was the most contentious member of the Guardians, especially when it came to dealing with the authorities. But Gamora could appreciate him for what he was - incredibly clever and quick-minded, loyal to a fault, and oddly thoughtful. Their first few months of being a team were mostly characterized by its screaming matches and threats, but now it was mostly harmless bickering, peppered with random acts of kindness.

Gamora had mentioned offhand one night that she had never finished school, and as a result, experienced unfortunate gaps of basic knowledge at times, aside from things she had picked up during her missions for Thanos. Rocket had scoffed in response, saying it wasn’t a big deal. Then, a week later, after he and Peter returned from a highly productive day at the Nova trading post, he lugged in an entire suitcase full of books, both fiction and non-fiction, and dropped it at her feet. “If you got the time, that is,” Rocket had shrugged, disappearing into the engine room before she could even thank him.

So, now, Gamora used her spare moments - mostly at night, right before going to bed - to read, absorb information that had been out of her grasp for the longest time. Once Nebula returned, Gamora attempted to share the books with her too, but Nebula seemed mostly disinterested (though if a trashy paperback happened to go missing every now and then, Gamora didn’t say anything). Peter also went searching for Terran books as well, hoping to further share his culture with her. Gamora was partial to consuming encyclopedias when she had a few minutes to herself, picking a page at random and skimming it over. She found Terran culture to be equal parts interesting and terrifying, though really, the same could be said of her initial feelings towards Peter.

An hour passed before she decided to get up and stretch, then further choosing to take a quick lap around the ship to loosen up her sore joints. Gamora smiled briefly at Mantis and Drax as she passed them in the kitchen, only to stop dead outside the storage room door to the sound of - what else? - Peter and Rocket, snapping at each other like their lives depended on it.

“Why do we have so much stuff?” Rocket exclaimed.

“Most of this is yours, dude, I dunno why you’re complaining,” Peter grumbled. “Besides, Gamora gets this and all that other stuff done in one day, what’s takin’ you so long?”

“I ain’t Gamora, genius,” Rocket sneered. “I usually just throw everything back in here unless I wanna fix it. I wouldn’t have done it this time if I knew I was gonna be the one stuck doing inventory!”

“Yeah, and how do you think she feels about your damn mess? How does she find anything in here?” Gamora could hear the sound of Peter tossing a bunch of heavy materials around, clattering against the metal floor. She winced.

“I am Groot?” Groot asked.

“It was a rhetorical question, but you’re totally right. Gamora is super awesome at everything.” She flushed, lingering in the doorway for another half-second before deciding the conversation wasn’t meant for her. Peter and Rocket were usually able to defuse their own arguments nowadays, and if Mantis came running for Gamora, then she would know it was serious. Gamora retreated back to her room, shaking her head fondly as she did. “Besides, I was thinkin’ earlier we don’t do enough around here. Like, I know you and me have other specialties and everything, but we aren’t exactly fair and square, either.”

“What’re you sayin’, like we should make this a regular thing? Hell no!” Rocket snorted. “I got two priorities, Quill, money and weapons. I make weapons so we can make money. I use that money to make more weapons. It’s my circle of life, if you get my meaning!”

“I don’t mean exactly like this,” Peter replied. “I was just thinking we could rotate. Gamora’s been wanting us on a regular schedule forever, but none of us ever paid attention. Maybe now’s the time.”

“Man, you’re whipped,” Rocket muttered, scrounging through another pile of scrap metal.

“Hey, it’s got nothing to do with that. I just think she’s got a point, and as team leader, I get to - ”

“As team leader, you’re really freakin’ biased!” Rocket snapped, standing up tall. “You take Gamora’s side, every time. And if it’s not Gamora, it’s Mantis, since she’s basically your sister. You ever stop to think about the rest of us?”

Peter narrowed his eyes. “Yeah, actually, I do. And Gamora’s usually the one thinkin’ about everyone, that’s why I usually go with what she says! Hell, you just said it yourself - money and weapons! That’s the only thing that matters to you.”

“Not the only thing,” Rocket mumbled, turning away. Groot reached as if to grab him, but Peter shook his head, gently pulling the young one back. The two of them watched in silence as Rocket paced back and forth, furling and unfurling his fists intermittently as he did. “Fine. We’ve been shitty teammates to Gamora. What’re you suggesting, then?” ______

“Shh, she’s coming!”

“This isn’t a surprise party, Mantis, she knows we’re here.”

“Oh. Right.”

Gamora ducked her head to quietly laugh to herself at her team’s antics as she walked into the kitchen, enticed by the smells wafting throughout the entire ship. Laid out on the table were the comfort foods Peter had introduced to her not too long ago - some sort of fried meat that was apparently impossible to find on any planet other than Earth, a baked pasta dish that was heaping with tomato sauce and cheese, and various vegetable side dishes that Groot in particular was eyeing, relieved to be free of Drax’s highly carnivorous menu for once.

“Just how I remembered it,” she commented, wrapping her arms around Peter’s middle, briefly laying her head on his shoulder. He beamed in response, pressing a kiss into the crown of her head. “Thank you, Peter.”

“Don’t forget dessert,” he reminded her as they all took their seats. Gamora automatically went to pick up Groot’s plate so she could help him, but Drax got there first, nodding at her kindly before serving Groot instead. “We also had a couple things we wanted to give you, even though it’s not really your birthday. But hey, let’s eat first!”

The whole team happily dug in, eating in total silence for the first few minutes aside from sounds of enjoyment. Even Rocket had nothing bad to say, and Groot was happily smearing potatoes all over his face as he ate. “So did everyone finish everything? All of my tasks?” Gamora asked as everyone’s forks and knives began slowing down. The others exchanged dubious looks across the table.

“Eventually,” Peter hedged.

Gamora frowned. “That doesn’t sound good.”

“We did finish everything,” Peter corrected. “But we could also give you one of your presents early.” He glanced at the others, seeking consensus, but they didn’t seem too inclined, one way or the other. “I know you said you like being busy, but there’s still so much stuff you could be doing if you had more time - reading, working out, just letting loose, y’know? And you already handle tons of the fights and tactics when we’re out in the field, there’s no reason you gotta hold down the fort here, too. So, we came up with a schedule where everyone has just one thing to do per day, and that’s it. We can all have time to do whatever the hell we want. Don’t feel like you’re responsible for all of us, Gamora. You gotta take care of you, too.”

Gamora set her fork down with a sense of finality, chewing her bottom lip thoughtfully. The others watched her nervously, worried she was going to decline. Even Rocket and Nebula, arguably the most self-serving of the group when it came to menial chores and mundane tasks, looked invested in hearing her answer. And really, what could she say other than ‘yes’? After spending so much of her life taking care of herself out of self-preservation and the interest of not dying, it seemed natural to take care of everyone else. They were an extension of herself, really - if she failed them, she failed herself. But as Gamora stared back at their hopeful faces, she knew it had to work both ways.

“I...don’t know what to say. Other than...okay.” Gamora smiled. “Okay. Show me the schedule tomorrow, then.” The team let out a collective sigh of relief, pleased to know their efforts hadn’t been for naught.

After dinner was over, Peter brought out the cake that he had left warming under the broiler, a gooey, buttery concoction topped with an excessive dusting of powdered sugar. Groot’s eyes nearly popped out of his head at the sight of it. Rocket predicted Groot was going to have trouble sleeping tonight, though Groot didn’t seem bothered by the notion. Once Peter had served up a slice for everyone, they moved towards the back of the ship, where the vantage window was, sprawling casually across the floor. Gamora took a seat beside Nebula first, who had kept herself furthest from the others, as expected. “Thank you,” she said quietly.

“For what? All I did was your stupid taxes,” Nebula grumbled, stabbing her plate.

“I hope you don’t actually think those were taxes,” Gamora said slowly, wrinkling her nose. “No, I mean just in general. For...for coming back. For looking out for me, even when you hated me most. We may not be perfect, Nebula, but we have each other. And there are things I’ve done that I regret. I don’t just mean the things Thanos had us do, but the things I did to you when we were young. I should have been less selfish. I should have let you win.”

“Then we would both be screw-ups, and where would we be?” Nebula snorted, shaking her head.

“On equal ground, for starters,” Gamora suggested sadly. “Maybe we would have spent less time resenting each other. Maybe we would have worked together to escape Thanos. Who knows, really?”

“You wouldn’t have all of this if you had. These people. Your new reputation as a Guardian.” It didn’t nearly have as much bite compared to Nebula’s usual tone.

“And you’re a Guardian now, too,” Gamora smiled. “So maybe it did work out. But that doesn’t mean I don’t feel guilty.”

“You let too much weigh on you, sister,” Nebula said quietly. “You are not responsible for everything in your path. Even your own choices weren’t your own choices sometimes. Thanos made you angry. He made us both angry. I can see that now.” She lifted her head to look at Gamora, her dark, inky eyes glossy with emotion. “I could be mad at you for the rest of my life. And I’m not saying I’ve forgiven you. But I don’t have that kind of energy anymore. I just know I want to destroy him for what he’s done. Rip him apart, make him feel every last terrible thing he’s ever done. And we need each other to do it. Right?” She looked almost scared at her last small request, as if Gamora was going to reject her right then and there.

“Always,” Gamora said softly, patting Nebula on the leg. Her hand lingered for a moment. “But I’m also just here as your sister. Okay? So if you need anything at all...I’m here. And you’re welcome here. It’s still new to you, but you’re part of this team.”

Nebula smirked half-heartedly in an attempt to give her a genuine smile. She scoffed, shaking her head. “Just go snuggle up to Quill before you get the urge to hug me again.” Gamora laughed, squeezing Nebula’s knee one last time before standing to join Peter.

The festivities continued, a gentle song crooning through the ship’s sound system via Peter’s Zune, as Drax decided to unearth a truly awful bottle of booze they had bought (or stolen - it was Rocket’s doing, so no one could be quite certain) on Terma, pouring heaping glasses for everyone except Groot. After he had passed around the foggy-looking cups, he settled in on Gamora’s other side. “A toast to our formidable companion, Gamora!” Drax roared, holding up his glass in victory. “A fearsome warrior, and an even greater friend. Our journey through the stars would not be the same without her.”

“Cheers!” they all called heartily in response. Even Nebula half-lifted hers, completely out of sync, before knocking back the whole glass in one go.

“There is no one I would rather fight alongside than you,” Drax said sincerely after the noise had died down, and everyone returned to their private conversations. “With the exception of your sister, the others do not share the same experiences that you and I do. The understanding that the true fight is never over.”

“Thank you, Drax. And you’re right,” Gamora nodded, leaning against Drax’s shoulder a little. “Even if we do manage to defeat Thanos, there are still wrongs that can be righted. Evils that we can only imagine, until they’re right in front of our faces.”

“That’s the spirit!” Drax hooted, also draining his cup near-instantly. Gamora blinked, genuinely impressed. “Let us drink to honor you, Gamora.” He stumbled to his feet, snatching up the bottle so he could offer refills.

It was then that Gamora felt Peter pressing an open-mouthed kiss along her jawline in greeting. She swatted at him playfully, but curled into him in acceptance of his affections. “You having a good time?”

“It’s hard not to, with that going on.” She gestured at Rocket and Kraglin in the middle of the room, who seemed generously tipsy already, doing some sort of sloppy jig made even more awkward by their height difference. “This really was a nice idea, Peter. And I’m very glad you didn’t attempt something insane to celebrate.”

“Balloons, confetti, and live music were involved,” Peter nodded sagely. Gamora shuddered. “Groot and I have one last surprise for you, though.” Peter set his plate down and called Groot over to join them. The little one, who had been drifting off against Mantis’s shoulder, perked up at the sound of his name and quickly ran off to grab Gamora’s last present before tripping over himself in an attempt to sit in front of her. “Hey, hey, don’t hurt yourself, Groot. What’d I tell you about running on the ship?”

“I am Groot,” he said sadly. Groot broke out into an easy smile again, proudly holding up a large bouquet of stark white flowers. They were the kind that sprouted right from his very roots, bound together by intertwining vines and ropes made of his branches. Nestled among the flowers was a plain white envelope with Gamora’s name written on it. Gamora accepted the flowers and an enthusiastic hug from Groot before pulling the envelope out, glancing between Peter and Groot curiously.

Almost trembling with anticipation, her heart pounding, she ran her fingernail across the top to open the envelope and pull out its contents. Her breath hitched upon recognition of what it was - a piece of paper, clearly printed very recently, given the slight smudge of ink in the corners, but that wasn’t what mattered. Her name. Her mother’s name. Her father's name. The name of her hometown, her province, her planet. Her weight and height. And of course, her date of birth.

“How did...how did you find my birth certificate?” Gamora swallowed sharply. Her eyes were welling up, making it more difficult to read.

“It wasn’t easy,” Peter admitted. “Made a call to Nova Prime. Then it turned into a pretty literal game of telephone - people who worked in the archives, recordkeepers who had databases of extinct planets, that kinda thing. This actually only came in maybe an hour before I had to start makin’ dinner, so I was kinda nervous it wouldn’t work out.” Slightly alarmed at her tears, he cupped her jaw, using his thumbs to wipe them away. “I didn’t overstep, did I? I mean, I know I do that sometimes, like that time when I asked Nebula about her - ”

“Peter, it’s...it’s more than I could have hoped for.” Gamora inhaled noisily. Concerned, Groot moved in to snuggle against her, cooing softly.

The others took notice, Mantis being the first, her antennae stirring above her. “Gamora? What happened?” she said urgently.

“Did Quill screw up again?” Nebula asked, kneeling by her sister’s side. Gamora shook her head, seemingly unable to speak as she held the paper out to Nebula. She scanned it briefly before her eyes widened in shock, looking over to Peter. The others crowded in, craning their necks in an effort to read it as well.

“It’s been so long since I’ve even thought of their names,” Gamora said in a half-whisper, though a smile was tugging at the corners of her mouth. “I’d forgotten the name of the hospital.”

“Quill...how’d you find this?” Nebula carefully set it back down in Gamora’s lap.

“Half a dozen phone calls,” Peter shrugged. “Gamora was telling me about her childhood, the night I came up with this idea in the first place, and I knew this was something I wanted to do. And then I realized...most of you guys lost your families and your homes, too. So if you want me to go looking for you, say the word.”

“It would bring me closure if I had my daughter’s birth certificate again,” Drax said quietly.

“I don’t remember a thing about my parents,” Nebula added.

“I do not even know where I am from,” Mantis said, her antennae drooping a little at the notion.

“Then I’ll make it happen,” Peter promised. “But for now...Gamora, you sure you’re okay?”

“A little overwhelmed, but yes, I’m okay.” Gamora let out a watery laugh. “I didn’t expect this. I must sound like a broken record at this point, but...thank you. All of you.”

To her surprise, it was Rocket who spoke first. “Aw, Gam, you know we’re always lookin’ out for you.”

Before Gamora knew it, the others piled in on top of her, their body heat providing a strangely comforting sense of near-claustrophobia. She could feel Peter’s face against her neck, Groot’s head on her shoulder. Mantis’s antennae tickling the top of her head, Rocket’s claws digging a little too harshly into her side. Drax and Kraglin were awkwardly on the outside of the whole pile, their warm breaths on her forehead. And Nebula, on her other side, stiff and uncomfortable, but present. Here. ______

“I’ve never been so happy to be so tired in my life,” Gamora admitted privately as she carefully shut the bedroom door behind her. Peter was sprawled across the mattress, idly scrolling through the Zune. “We could have been in bed three hours ago, if not for Drax’s sudden interest in - what was it called?”

“Beer pong.” Peter let out a hysterical giggle as he remembered what had conspired. “I’m glad you had an awesome time. Kinda freaked me out when you started crying, though.”

“It was a welcome surprise,” Gamora said, setting the certificate onto the dresser before crawling onto the bed to join him. “If there’s one thing I admire about you, Peter, it’s your ability to express your affections so easily. Gifts, compliments, praise. I was talking to Nebula earlier, and I realized I still can’t communicate everything I’m feeling.”

“Like what?”

“Like...that this whole day was about me having time to myself. And yes, it was a really nice experience. But...you know, I’ve gone almost my whole life not knowing what it was like to be a part of something. I had a family, and then I didn’t. It was over, they were gone. For the longest time, I was just one of Thanos’s kidnapped children. He separated me from the others because he didn’t want us to grow attached. He wanted me to feel above everyone else. I spent years thinking the rest of my life would be like that. That I’d never get to spend enough time with someone to care about them or to have them care about me, the way that I did with my parents. I thought that Nebula was the closest thing I was going to get to feel love.” Gamora smiled ruefully, slowly uncurling her clenched fists. “But this team, it changed all of that. In the beginning, when we first started taking jobs, I was worried it was only circumstance. That I only felt so strongly about everyone because our emotions were so heightened in the moment. But even when I’m alone...days like today, where even though I didn’t see you very often, I thought about you. I thought about what all of you meant to me, how much I must mean to the team for you to do something like this. And that’s not circumstance. That’s what I’ve been missing. But I have it now, and it doesn’t feel unusual or selfish like I thought it would. It just feels...right.”

“I’m glad you feel that way. And you don’t sound like you’re having communication problems at all.” Peter wrapped his arms around her, resting his forehead against hers. He was soft, affectionate, steady in all the ways she liked best. “If anything, I think that’s the most I’ve ever heard you say in one go.” Gamora groaned, smacking him on the arm.

“Oh, you’re awful,” she sighed. “But I think it’s progress.”

“I think Nebula would understand if you said all that stuff to her,” Peter nodded. “You might have to give her the CliffsNotes version - ” At her baffled expression, he shook his head. “Y’know what? Never mind. You awake enough for one last dance?” He held up the Zune, shaking it as if to entice her.

Gamora laughed softly, allowing Peter to pull them to their feet. “Fine, fine. But tomorrow - which is actually today - we’re talking about that schedule. And maybe some more ways to help Nebula feel more comfortable around here. And that next job that Mantis found for us, because we may need extra travel papers for that - ”

Peter hummed softly in her ear as the music began, his arms enveloping her waist. Hers went around his shoulders, their fronts pressed together. It had become so commonplace for them now, for Peter to have bursts of spontaneity when he stumbled across another song that reminded him of her. “Yeah, yeah, tomorrow. What about right now?”

You know our love was meant to be...the kind of love to last forever...and I want you here with me...from tonight until the end of time...

“Right now, I’m all yours,” Gamora echoed quietly, gazing up at him.

You're the meaning in my life...you're the inspiration...you bring feeling to my life...you're the inspiration...

“I was thinkin’ more like, ‘let’s have this nice moment where we dance and maybe make out a little before Rocket throws something at our door for having music on’, but I like the sound of that too,” Peter grinned. Gamora rolled her eyes affectionately, laying her head against his chest to hear one of her favorite songs of all - his heartbeat, steady and strong. He bent to kiss the crown of her head. “Happy not-birthday, Gamora. You deserve ‘em all.”

a/n: just gonna rattle off some quick mcu references that i slipped in there in case you don't know what i was referring to - orloni, sovereign, vrellnexians, contraxia, the confederacy, aakon, and terma. the song at the end is you're the inspiration by chicago.

i hope you enjoyed this little indulgent one-shot of mine, as i wanted to explore some more gamora-centric themes and her relationship with nebula. likes and reblogs would be much appreciated, and thank you so much for reading!

#starmora #peter x gamora #gamora x peter #peter quill #gamora #myfic #marvel #i hope the formatting is ok! it looks kinda funky on my end #idk if it's because i copy-pasted the html or what but if it is i'll probably delete and try again later

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lubdubsworld · 7 years

Text

Make it hurt ( Then Kiss it better) ( Final )

Chapter 8

“ Min Yoon Gi.”

Theapplause was deafening, many of the boys wolf whistiling as he he made his way to the stage , grinning wide as he got his graduation degree, his smile wide and palpable. He turned alowly and i stumbled a little as I tried to hold up the huge camera and take a snap that wasn’t too awful.

Next to me Jung Kook was positively catatonic with excitement, although that probabaly had more to do with the fact that he was offcially going to enter school next year.

Ther treatment that Seokjin had been working on for over five years had finally been approved and that meant that Jung kook was in one of the first trial batches. So far the results were astounding and he was already looking taller and fitter.

But he clutched my skirt with child-like fervor and hero-worship for his brother practically radiated off his face and it was a beautiful sight.

Everyone on stage was shaking hands with him, his friends grinning and thumping him on his back.

But Yoongi’s eyes sought mine out, the way they always did whenever we were in a crowd and he smiled , gaze soft as he mouthed , ‘ i love you’.

I smiled back, still not entirely coming to terms with the fact that he would soon leave School. I pressed two of my fingers to my lips blowing a subtle kiss and he feigned catching it out of the air.

“Gross.” On my other side Jieun had watched the little exchange and looked positively green. “ He turned my best friend into a sap, i’m never forgiving Min Yoongi, where’s the quick fisted , sharp tongued girl I first met.”

“I’m still in here... Want me to punch your gut right now and call you a bitch, baby?” I winked. Jieun’s latest boytoy growled from right next to her. He was an Alpha as well, and one of yoongi’s friends apparently. I’d already forgotten his name.

I turned around to see Yoongi stand infront of the podium.

He spoke quickly generic words thanking his family and friends and he gave a slight smile as he finished with, “ i’m leaving my gorgeous girlfriend behind but just a friendly reminder that anyone who comes near her will be eviscerated.”

I spluttered as the Principal made an affronted noise and glared at him. Yoongi’s parents looked mortified but Yoongi looked uapologetic as he got shooed off stage.

“Why are you like this?” I muttered, when he came closer to me, hugging Jung Kook close and kissing the top of his head.

“Better safe than sorry.” He winked, wrapping one arm around me and nipping my neck. i felt the weight of someone’s gaze on me and turned slowly.

Yuju stood a few feet away , tears welling as she stared at us and I sighed, untangling myself away from him gently.

“I’ll be right back.” I said softly.

Yoongi hesitated.

“You don’t have to-”

“I want to.” i said simply.

I walked up to her and she looked a little stricken as she saw me, eyes darting like she wanted to run. I pushed myself forward nonetheless.

“Can I have a word...with you?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Are you here to rub it in , that you have Yoongi and he doesn’t...”

“He cares about you, Yuju. Very much. And i know you hate me right now, but don’t belittle what Yoongi and you had. I don’t.. I don’t know how to apologize and i son’t think I have to either but I do want to tell you that I’m grateful.”

She stared at me, teeth worrying her lips .

“I’m thankful that you treated Yoongi well, all these years. So much so that he admitted that he would have worked to make you happy if ...things hadn’t gone the way they did.”

She looked at the floor sniffling.

“I loved him very much.” She whispered.

“I know. I know and I swear, I’ll try to love him just as much. I swear I’ll try. You can hate me but don’t hate Yoongi. He doesn’t deserve that.”

“I don’t hate him..I just... I just miss him.”

I didn’t know what else to say to that.

“Fine. Fine. Just make sure to live happily. At least enough to make me jealous. Jealous enough to find a guy for myself.” She muttered and I smiled a little.

“Goodbye , Yuju.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Yoongi books a villa for a small vacation, right before he leaves to college.

"Do you like it?" Yoongi grins, watching the look of utter awe on her face as she steps into the wooden patio of their villa. She's dressed in simple white shorts and a sleeveless flowery blouse. Perfect for the early summer sunshine. She smiles in disbelief.

"My God, this place is beautiful." She whispers and Yoongi has to agree. Their villa is the last one, resting right next to the cliff face. The beach is just a few feet away from their patio. The entire beach is deserted . Not a soul in sight. He thinks he's in heaven. But then she's sliding in next to him slipping her fingers in with his. And that right there was true heaven.

"Thank you, Yoongi." She smiles brightly.

He feels amazing. Blessed even, seeing the way she always seems to forgive and forget the little mishaps he brings to their relationship. He pushes his fingers through the hair at the back of her head, pulling a little too hard to be gentle , testing the waters. She looks surprised but not angry as she comes closer, tilting her head up for a kiss.

He doesn't kiss her, just enjoying the sight of her pretty face , turned to him . He smiles a little, using his thumb and forefinger to lightly tug on her lower lip, feeling the soft fold between his fingers. He can feel himself go hard as he stares at the red tint of her lips. Her mouth is made for sex, he thinks.

She pulls back a little and there's genuine confusion on her face. He stifles the laugh that bulds up inside him. It doesn't take a genius to guess that now that she's actually alone with him, away from all civilization, she's not as cocky as she usually was in school. He feeds off her nervousness ,though.

It lets him know he's in control. Just the way he likes.

He's half tempted to continue .

The villa is private , so is the beach. No one could possibly come here but he decides not to risk it. He smiles and links his fingers with hers leading her into the bedroom which opened right into the patio. The bed is covered in rose petals and he flinches at the cheesiness but she doesn't seem to notice, moving to the bed and standing still, looking at him quietly.

There’s a wealth of fear and nervousness in her eyes and he knows that she’s quietly terrified of the whole knotting thing.

it’s not something he can change though, so he tried to stay calm himself , hoping that it would calm her in return.

She looks almost docile, he thinks in amusement. It's so different from how he usually sees her. She's almost shy. But it’s aln illusion he thinks. She’s doing this for him. Letting her unguarded omega side out for his pleasure. Letting herself be docile , soft and submissive because he was in rut and submission was important for an alpha.

And it turns him on so much he can't fucking breathe.

"You alright?" he says smoothly and she nods , swallowing nervously. He smiles a bit more, watching her closely as he flutters his fingers up to the twin knots holding up her blouse. He gives one sharp pull and the string comes unraveled, the blouse falling away from her shoulder and bunching just above the curve of her breasts, leaving her neck and shoulders bare to his hungry gaze. He resists the urge to shut his eyes and take a deep breath because holy shit, she's so pale complexioned . Her skin practically glows in the late evening sun flooding the bedroom. His fingers curl into fists and he lightly brushes the knuckles just above the curve of her cheekbones.

"Are you scared?" He asks , rubbing back and forth against the soft skin. She looks slightly out of it, like she;s drugged and he grins. He thinks it’s amazing that their biology does this for them. Helps them get high on each other.

"I..Should I be?" she finally whispers. “ i trust you, Yoongi.”

Pleased with the response he steps closer and slips a finger into the space between her blouse and her cleavage, tugging the fabric till it falls over her breasts and comes to rest around her waist. She stares straight at him but there's no hiding the twin spots of color high on her cheeks.

Smiling softly, he moves to stand behind her, enjoying the way her breath catches in her throat when he swiftly unbuckles her bra. He doesn't pull it off her though, instead stepping closer and wrapping an arm around her waist, letting her feel the soft silk of his shirt against her bare back.

He rests his chin on her shoulder and hums.

"I don't know....Will you be good for your Alpha?" He drawls, dropping his dialect into satoori, just to see how she'd react

. She lets out an odd squeak and he isn't disappointed. He wants to do uncivilized things to her, he thinks, fingers trembling as he tries to calm himself down. Drop her down on the nearest flat surface, pull her legs up over his head and drive into her till she forgot her own name. But this isn't one of the sexually active one night stands he's used to and he struggles to get his bearings. To do it right.

To give her something she needs. To be someone she could actually love.

A gentle caring lover and not the barely civilized Alpha that his hormones wanted him to be.

While he's fighting his inner demons.her body sort of stiffens and she turns around .

He blinks and she takes her bra off, leaving his jaw hanging. She stares right at him.

"What's wrong?" She whispers.

He takes her shoulders and brings her close, just breathing in the smell of wildflowers and Vanilla.

"I don't know how to be a gentleman..." He says roughly and she trembles against him.

"Don't try to be something you aren't." She says, laughing loud and he falls in love at that precise moment.

It's not the earth-shattering love that people probably experience when they see someone for the first time.

Rather it's the sort of love that digs deep into your soul and takes root. That uproots your entire existence and turns your life around. That makes you want to be better. She is looking at him and suddenly he can't wait to start the rest of his life with her.

He continues to stare at her, his gaze finally dropping to the naked perfection of her breasts, his mouth watering for a taste. He wants to kiss her all over.

"What should I do?" She whispers , looking nervous.

He swallows, dragging his gaze back up to hers.

"Get on the bed." He finally manages.

She scrambles to obey him , feet on the sheets and crawling up to lie on the pillow and he follows right behind covering her body with his and capturing her lips.

It's so easy he thinks, slipping out of his clothes and gathering her close.

It's so easy to kiss her, touch her, slip his fingers down, and find the wet, warm and heavy heat of her. It's so easy to swallow her moans with his lips, to worship every inch of her the way he's supposed to. To whisper dirty things into her ears. Words that would earn him a slap anywhere else, words from his hometown, words he's learnt over the years. But she doesn't push him away. She doesn't tell him to stop. He tells her all the things he wants to do to her, all the secret little places he wants to kiss her and he enjoys the way she goes to pieces in his hands.

It's like making music , he thinks. Keep kissing , touching , licking and biting his way through the expanse of milky white skin till he heard the perfect symphony of moans, pants , gasps and groans.

When he has trouble getting rid of her blouse, he just tears it off from around her waist and she half laughs and half squeaks.

"You ruined it..." she whispers and he's amazed that it's more awe than fear.

He wants to ruin more than just the blouse, he thinks.

When he pushes into her, her entire face strains and he hesitates.He’s always bigger when he’s in rut and he knows that it’s going to hurt more than usual, but it kills him to hold still, barely half an inch inside her.

She looks scared. Terrified even and she's clinging to him like a shipwrecked victim.

"Are you alright?" He whispers.

"I'm fine ." She smiles, strained.

When he pushes into her again, her eyes flutter shut and her breath starts rasping. He pulls out again and gently kisses her eyelids.

"Look at me. Open your eyes and look at me," He says firmly, his voice steady and smooth. She manages but the stark terror in them is obvious.

"Yoongi..I.."

"It's alright. I've got you. Don't look away. I want you to look at me when I..."

While she's listening to his voice and relaxing he rocks into her, gently, slowly and without any more pressure than absolutely needed. The moment he settles in, she breaks out in a sweat and he feels kis knot swelling inside her. He tries to hold her tighter , keep her grounded to his presence, take her mind off the pain but she’s already trembling.

The look on her face changes to pure agony and he holds himself still. Her thighs tremble against his palms.

"You're okay. You're going to be okay..." He murmurs more words of praise and comfort telling her how much he loves her,, how much he wants her, how much he desires her. Slowly, the tremors in her body die and she's looking at him again licking her lips. He slips a hand down to the bundle of nerves at her entrance and presses down on it. She keens against him and he smiles.

"Better? " He whispers and she links her arms behind his neck, looking so vulnerable he dies a little. There’s tears dripping down her eyes and he can tell that this is excruciating for her.

"Take a deep breath, baby girl." He says. She nods and when she does, he moves forward, finally sinking fully into the heat of her body. He blacks out for a second from the sheer pleasure of it. His forehead rests against hers and they're both panting. He's sweating from the strain of having to stay still, when every cell in his body is urging him to pound into her at a brutal pace and claim, claim, claim what is his and only his.

She takes a deep breath again and somehow he actually sinks in deeper inside her, making both of them gasp in surprise.

Gritting his teeth , he kisses her brow.

"Tell me I can move." He begs .

And lovely, beautiful, Min Jung smiles like the sun at him.

"Please,Yoongi-ssi." she says sweetly. Something inside him actually snaps. He growls against her lips, kissing her wickedly, tongue pushing into her mouth as he moved inside her, carefully but steadily. He watches her and catches the exact moment the pain begins to fade and pleasure begins to take it's place. He smiles wide at her and she's smiling as well.

"Better?" He asks again and she nods, pulling him down for another kiss. Her eyes widen and her breath becomes faster, more erratic and he knows she's going to come undone in his arms. A second later she explodes around him, her body trembling and clenching around him, sending him tumbling into climax. It's so strong he can't catch his breath. His entire body throbs and he stays buried inside her, waiting to come down from the high.,

When they both come back to their senses, she's grinning like an idiot and he starts laughing.

"So that’s what all the fuss was about..... " she whispers. “ it’s not as awful as i thought it would be.”

"Definitely not." He agrees, chuckling.

"So when can we do it again?" She winks impishly, snuggling closer to him. He groans in disbelief , pulling the comforter to cover both of their bodies. For the first time in his twenty years, he falls asleep the moment his head hits the pillow, the warmth of her body fresh against his.

No pills. No insomnia.

Just her and her warmth.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Epilogue ( Seven Years later )

I sighed and leaned back against the wall of the nursery, my back aching something fierce as I balanced the baby on my shoulder. Gi Tae was still sniffing , head burrowing into my neck, nose rubbing wet stripes across my skin as he whimpered. He was ten months old and constantly craving attention.

His twin brother on the other hand was fast asleep in his crib and i thankedGod for small mercies. She sang softly to the baby , my tone slow and mellow, the mellifluous voice gradually putting the baby in a trance.

"I have died everyday...waiting for you...darling don't be afraid, I have loved you...For a thousand years...I'll love you for a thousand more..." I sang.

It's one of my favorite songs and it works like a dream on the little boy. When he finally stopped moving and the only sound is his soft little breaths, I slowly creeped up to the crib and placed him down, adding his blinky and comforter and also the soft toy that Namjoon had got him for Christmas.

When I straightened, I nearly lost my balance. i was seven months pregnant and my center of gravity is all over the place. I really needed some rest. Sighing, I glanced at the watch.

it's 2.00 Am.

Yoongi was probably in his work room, or in the studio. i was half tempted to sneak back to bed but the baby's kicking up a storm inside my belly and i figured I can wheedle a massage or an ankle rub from my husband . So I slowly tip toed out of the room, careful not to disturb the sleeping babies.

However I stopped on the way to the studio when she heard her husband's voice, softly singing from our elder son's room . Yoon Jae is four and a little past the age of lullabies, I thought but when I stepped in, I found the boy draped all over his father, who's gently stroking his hair. The kid's groggy and blinking blearily up at me

"Hey, sweetheart. What's wrong, bad dream?" i said concerned, slowly moving to the bed where father and son lay. Yoongi gave me a slight shake of the head and Yoon Jae pouted.

"Gi Tae woke me up..." He complained.

i sighed. The little one had been a little loud tonight.

"That's okay.. You can sleep a little extra tomorrow morning." i said softly and he nodded, nestling back into his father.

"Are the twins asleep?" Yoongi asked quietly and his voice was a bit scratchy from sleep and exhaustion. He had dark circles and puffy skin around his eyes and there's a definite air of weariness in the way he looked at her. My heart aches and she feels rather selfishly happy that he had given up his position as CEo to pursue music instead. At least it helped him stay home more.

But still, my husband's a producer and his job is pretty much a constant.

It was especially helpful because i spent so much time in the hospital and the labs. But now i could afford to take a break. All the years of hardwork had paid off and last month Seokjin and i had officially patented a new set of suppressants which would not only help curb heats, but also disable the effect of an Alpha’s pheromones on an omega.

Which meant non-consensual imprinting would soon be a thing of the past. But there were still so many aspects of the omega biology that had to be studied and I was looking forward to get back to the lab. Of course, i still worked primarily in the pediatric ward of the Hospital, helping with the treatment of young male omegas who struggled with their health.

Jung Kook was one of the success stories , having turned twenty two just the previous year. He had also started dating Taehyung , an Alpha. I’d never seen a more contrasting pair. It was actually funny and ironic because Taehyung, technically the alpha was the docile and calm one while hot blooded Jung Kook went around glaring at anyone who looked at his elfin , beautiful boyfriend.

if there were ever any doubt about how little Biology had to control someone, they were the best example.

Yuju’s father’s lab on suppressing omegas had been shut down for good, thanks to some pretty damning evidence that Yuju had exposed to the public.

Things were changing.

The world was changing and I was happier than I’d ever been.

“What’s wrong baby?” Yoongi whispered.

i reached out and gently threaded my fingers through his hair, smiling when Yoongi leaned into the touch, lightly grabbing my wrists and kissing the soft skin of my palm.

"They are. So is Yoon Jae. Put him down and come get some sleep." i said gently and he nodded, shifting lightly to place his sleeping son on the mattress before kissing him impulsively on the forehead. it was rare, being able to see Yoongi affectionate. My husband lavished kisses and hugs on the the children but not often in front of an audience.

i thought it was rather cute.

When he got out of the bed, he reached out and lightly lifted the soft t-shirt i was to press a palm against my baby bump. His touch is a bit cold and i shivered

"How's the little guy?" His question is answered when the baby enthusiastically kicked back at his hand.

"Oh. aggressive, Like his mother." He winked and I glared.

"No. He's a night owl. Like his father." i retorted and he grinned, pulling me close and gently rubbing the small of my back. It feels like heaven, the gentle pressure of his fingers against the knotted muscles. I can't stop the little whimper that escapes.

"Are you alright? Come let's get you to bed." He said anxiously and i leaned against him , relieved.

"I'm not doing this again." I said with a frown, once i was tucked into her side, Yoongi was pressed up right against my back, He had an arm around my stomach, lips lightly showering kisses on the side of my neck as he rubbed circles on my swollen belly.

"Anything you say babe..." He whispered .

i smiled and snuggled closer to him.

if there was one thing , I would never change, I thought with a smile, it would be being born as an omega.

Fin.

Author’s Note : It’s finished finally. I was so in this universe that I couldn’t even update my other fics because of it. And well, i’m not fully happy with it , there are things I wish I’d changed but I hope you guys enjoyed it nonetheless. Thank you especially to everyone who stuck through with the whole thing. For all the encouraging messages.

I will miss Min Jung. She was such a delight to write.

#bts abo #bts #min yoongi #yoongi #bts fanfics #bts imagines #bts angst #bts smut

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