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writeyouin · 4 years

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It says asks are closed, but your recent post said they're open? If they are closed, that's fine, sorry to bother. Love your stuff btw! What if LL crew were temporarily turned human. The human liason helps them adjust (even if this is just for a while-they hope) and since it's Christmas, they decide to make everyone a traditional Christmas dinner (or as close to it as they can...) Who actually helps in the kitchen, who's more of a hindrance, and who sneaks food when they think no one's looking?

Transformers MTMTE/LL Reader Insert – For Just One Day

A/N – This one was tricky, trying to fit everyone in.

Warnings – Very Mild NSFW

Rating – T

It started with a stupid bet that the crew wouldn’t last a day as humans. To be honest, you forgot even making the bet with Brainstorm, but apparently those were your exact words, and now he hadn’t just turned himself human, but the entirety of the Lost Light. Fortunately, the effects of Brainstorm’s device were only going to last a day. Unfortunately, the day it took place was Christmas. Now, you not only had a million questions to answer about being human, but you also had to cook a Christmas dinner for everyone because Swerve had given the idea to Rodimus and it had spread like wildfire.

“Okay,” You said, tying back your hair and putting on an apron, mildly anxious now that everyone was looking to you for a Christmas feast. “I’m going to need help in the kitchen, if anyone will volunteer.”

Ultra Magnus nodded. He had just finished making a pamphlet for the bots who were struggling with their humanity. “I shall organise a cooking party,” he said, and with that, he was organising groups of bots who had volunteered into those willing to cook meat and those who weren’t.

Soon, you were left with a group of around thirty volunteers, looking to you for instructions. Among them were Rung, Ten, Swerve, Nautica and Cyclonus. You started by showing the group how to prepare the vegetables, setting off a production line. Rung was very attentive to his carrots, though having more experience on model ships, he was paying far too much attention to detail and was very slow with his work. Upon watching Ten, who was much faster, you decided to partner the two up to make up for Rung’s lack of speed.

Whilst trying to give instructions to some other bots, you found Swerve watching you dreamily, rather than preparing his items. When you went over to him, he blushed and started talking a million miles an hour, soon becoming more of a hindrance than a help, though you humoured him, since it came from a good place.

“You can keep yapping, as long as you get back to work, instead of staring at me,” You winked.

Swerve, feeling suddenly very nervous looked around for something to distract you, although it was too late for you not to have noticed his blatant ogling. “Ugh, I- I- I- FLOUR FIGHT!”

He threw a fistful of flour at your face. You coughed and spluttered, raising a bemused eyebrow once you were okay.

“I-Uh-I-” Swerve babbled, wondering why he hadn’t just got back to work when you had called him out.

“I’ll let that one go, but I’m gonna get you back later,” You deadpanned, smiling only when your back was turned and he couldn’t see you; it would be fun to watch him panic for a while.

You walked on, stopping when you found Nautica stirring an empty pot, whilst watching Brainstorm and Perceptor dreamily. You had a feeling that she had volunteered for the cooking before she realised that they were going to be running various experiments on the now-human crew. You stopped to look at the pair of arguing scientists.

“It is not a contest,” Perceptor sniffed drily.

Brainstorm wrapped an arm around him, “Everything is a contest, Percy. If it wasn’t, existence would be futile. So, you in or not?”

“Most definitely not. I am here to research the human mechanics that you have so hastily created, not compete over who can do the most experiments before the day is up.”

“Ah, classic Percy, that’s the fighting talk I love. We’ll tally the scores at sundown.”

Turning your attention back to Nautica, you knew she wouldn’t abandon the work she had promised to do, even if she didn’t realise that she wasn’t actually doing it.

“You should go with them,” You told her.

“Hm? Me? Oh, no, I couldn’t. I’m supposed to be here,” Nautica smiled bashfully when she realised that she had been stirring the wrong pot and the cocktail sauce was still just a batch of raw ingredients.

“Nautica, you’re supposed to be having a good time. Go nuts, run some experiments. Christmas is all about having fun, after all.”

Nautica chewed her lip, considering it.

You pushed her towards the exit, “Go!”

With that, Nautica gave you a quick hug and ran excitedly out, leaving you to get back to checking on everybody else. On her way out, you saw Megatron standing awkwardly in the doorway. From the disturbed look on his face, it occurred to you that nobody had told him what was going on and he had only just figured it out upon seeing everyone else.

You approached him, “Hey Megatron… It was Brainstorm-”

“So I gathered,” He replied gruffly. “Please can you inform me how long this is to last.”

“Around twenty-four hours.”

“I see. Then I shall remain in my hab-suite until it is over.”

“Wait,” You grabbed his arm. “We’re um, celebrating a human holiday, if you want to join us.”

“Please (Y/N), do not pity me. You know I have no place among my peers during celebrations.”

“Megatron, I will only pity you if you leave. Come on, you should be among your friends, and don’t say you don’t have any ‘cos that is utter rubbish. So, as your friend, I am ordering you to get over to your other friend, Rung and help him with those potatoes.”

Megatron stared at you, dumbfounded. If he didn’t have so much respect for you, he would have left to hide away until this was all over. As it was, he simply nodded and joined Rung, who immediately struck up a friendly conversation.

‘Right,’ You thought to yourself, ready to get back to work until you saw Tailgate hanging out near Cyclonus, about to pop some raw bacon in his mouth.

“NO,” You ran over picking him up. “PUT THE BACON DOWN.”

“WHAT? WHY?” Tailgate whined. “You didn’t yell at Ravage when he stole the eggnog.”

“He did what?” Sure enough, when you looked around, the eggnog was gone without a trace; how Tailgate had seen him take it was beyond you.

“(Y/N), I just wanna taste Cyclonus’ cooking. Pleeeeeease.”

“Tailgate, I get that you’re excited, but Cyclonus is on meat duty, ‘kay. Meat can make humans really, really sick if we eat it raw. I’m just doing this so you don’t get ill. So, I’ll say it again. Put the bacon down.”

“Do as (s)he says,” Cyclonus added, without even looking up from his cooking station.

Huffily, Tailgate put the bacon back onto the counter and you let him go. “If you want everything so perfect, you better check the dessert station,” he huffed.

You were puzzled for a moment, but you decided to do what he said, heading over to the dessert section.

“Oh, come on,” You groaned, upon seeing Rodimus remoulding all the gingerbread men into gingerbread Rodimus stars.

“Hey (Y/N)!” Rodimus grinned, trying to hide his artwork behind his back. You had been far too occupied to notice, but Rodimus had already been kicked out of the kitchen by various other members of the crew no less than seven times for causing havoc wherever he went. Quite frankly, he didn’t want to be kicked out again; it was getting harder and harder to sneak back in.

“Really? You couldn’t leave the gingerbread men alone?”

“(Y/N),” Rodimus put a hand over his heart. “I, for one, am disgusted that you would allow us to take part in an act that encourages cannibalism. I mean, eating fake humans is the first step towards eating real humans, and I will not stand for it.”

“Ugh, where the hell is the dessert team?” You asked frustratedly, looking around for any sane bot.

“Oh, them? Well, they chased after Riptide who stole all those little pastry things to eat. Then when they came back, Rewind and Chromedome had stolen all the chocolate.”

“Why would they do that?”

“They heard something about chocolate being an aphrodisiac, so they took it and went away to canoodle.”

“Then what happened?”

“Then Drift came to try some stuff.”

“Drift, really?” You said, surprise colouring your tone.

“Yeah, don’t tell him I told you, but he has kind of a thing about watching organics eat, so he stole some food to get into his kink state. Anyway, that was when the dessert team abandoned base and went to play twister. By the way, super-fun game. Anyway, that brings us to this point, when I’m your only hope for saving dessert, thus saving Christmas.”

You rubbed the back of your neck tiredly, “Fine… Do whatever the hell you want to the gingerbread. Just make sure to cook it afterwards. I left the instructions on the datapad there.”

“You got it,” Rodimus winked. “This is gonna be the best dessert ever.”

Finally, you were free to get back to work, and with only a few more problems, dinner was served. You and a few others volunteered to take food to those who had decided to quarantine themselves. Your first stop was Whirl’s hab-suite. Quite frankly, you were surprised that Whirl hadn’t come out to make mischief when everything started.

You knocked on his door, “Whirl, sweetie, you in there?”

“GO AWAY, MEATBAG!” He roared from inside.

“Hey, are you okay?”

“I SAID GET LOST. I DON’T WANT TO SEE YOU OR ANYBODY ELSE WHILE I’M LIKE THIS.”

You didn’t really understand what Whirl’s problem was, so you just left the food outside his door, telling him what you had done before leaving. Whirl didn’t go to collect the food. How could he, when he had a problem of this nature? As it turned out, something had gone wrong with Whirl’s transformation, so instead of his usual holoform, he looked entirely different. He was a grown man in a leather jacket, with fairly good looks. The problem was that without his interface panel or his usual feminine form, he couldn’t hide his arousal for you. As such, he had vowed not to come out until everything was back to normal.

Where others were saying Merry Christmas, all Whirl could think was ‘Bah, humbug.’

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silver-spider-art · 4 years

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ToA: Trollhunters vs Wizards

First I don’t want to come off like I don’t think people should enjoy Wizards. Its a fun story and as a stand-alone or an AU its funny with so many call backs to favorite characters, and many emotional moments. Lots to enjoy on its own. However, it is AU. It doesn’t fit in the same timeline of events as what was hinted at and implied in ToA:Trollhunters. I believe the biggest reason beyond the tight time frame the crew had to work under is just that the main writers that were responsible for the majority of the original script for ToA:Trollhunters didn’t return to Wizards for whatever reason (they are back for the movie so fingers crossed). The people who wrote Wizards mostly had teleplay credits on ToA:Trollhunters (edited the screen play but didn’t write it) so while they’d been deeply involved in the original... well clearly a lot of ideas were lost in the swap.

So, why do I say the timeline was screwed up by Wizards version of events?

The opening of Wizards tells us that it’s the late 12th century and then says the present is 900 years later. We know that the current year is 2016 because Enrique’s crib in the Darklands lists him as born in 2016 (so while this doesn’t directly set the shows date it can’t be much past that and assuming Enrique is less than a year old, we can say it is 2016). Now 2016 - 900 is actually 1116 which is early 12th century, but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯.

This drastically changes how we understand the history of this world. If Deya is the first Trollhunter, then all other Trollhunters existed between 1116 and 2016. We see at least 14 troll statues in the Hero’s Forge and we also see several others in storage when Claire retrieves Angor Rot’s head for Morgana, so we can assume a minimum of ~20 Trollhunters. This gives us an average of 45 years as the life span of a Trollhunter. And yes that might seem long to a human but we are told the oldest troll was 5,352 years old and since Vendel, Blinky, Arrrgh, and Draal are all there to see the first Trollhunter chosen and thus well over 900 years old (Draal is straight up said to be 1200 years old during ToA:Trollhunters), then to be chosen by the amulet would be a quick death sentence. Now, while Blinky does only say that the Trollhunters date back to the age of Merlin, this is implied to be further back than the lifetimes of the trolls of Heartstone Trollmarket. Draal talks about spending his entire life training to be worthy of it. Kanjigar pushed his son away to protect him from the dangers of the Trollhunter’s duty implying Draal was young and not an adult during this time, and the absolute faith the trolls have in the amulet and their reliance on the protection of the Trollhunter implies that they’d grown up seeing this as normal. Yet as shown in Wizards, Draal was an adult when the amulet was made. If this was the case he would've seen the amulet pick literally anyone other than him for 900 years and have no reason to think it’d pick him now. Also while showing Jim the box of stones to try in his amulet Vendel talks about Maddrux the Many from legends of old. So old they’d all forgotten what the stone’s actual power was, thinking it was the power of great strength and not the ability to make copies of yourself. 900 years, as we’ve established, isn’t long for a troll. Would you call something a legend of old if it was an event you were alive for? Even if Maddrux didn’t hang out in Heartstone Trollmarket, Maddrux wouldn’t have been an ancient legend. Vendel would've been alive for every Trollhunter to have ever been, so would’ve Blinky, yet they talk about the Trollhunter and the amulet in a revered way that doesn’t befit something which happened within a single lifetime, a single troll generation. 900 years is long for humans, but not for trolls. They would all have to have such bad memories if this is to be believed.

Another point of contention is Angor Rot. It is shown in a flashback that Angor Rot gets power from Morgana in 1297 with the location stated as Bulgaria, Black Sea... which Wizards shows us Angor Rot taking Morgana here after she drowns... but Camelot is in England/UK (in the normal legends)... that seems quite the journey for a dead girl he randomly found but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯. He calls her forth by 4 names Argante (queen of Avalon or another name for Morgan Le Fey), Pale Lady, Baba Yaga, Eldrith Queen. So one, Angor Rot knows who he’s calling to, he’s not addressing the other spirits that Wizards showed using this place. Also it implies that Morgana has gained quite the legacy of power and influence. Now, when he gets her attention he says “Gunmar’s war for the surface lands has ravaged my village. I need the power to protect my people.” This very heavily implies that the war is ongoing. Based on Wizards, Gunmar was sealed away 181 years ago. It’s also strongly implied that all the Gumm-Gumms except Bular are gone now. So... who’s destroying Angor Rots village? Also we see Morgana’s hand in this scene, so either she’s really good at manifesting or she hasn’t been sealed yet. And if it was a manifestation, why would she make a physical ring? Regardless, she tells him he’s to seek Merlin’s Champions and kill his Trollhunters. Angor Rot was later sealed away in an ancient ruin of Aysa-Thoon in Ranthambore, India (which is in the middle of a tiger reserve btw). It’s old and overgrown implying he’s been there a while. Otto also says he found the location in old tomes so at the very least Angor Rot has been sealed away for centuries. So he runs around killing Trollhunters for ~300-400 years. If this is after the Killahead Bridge battle as Wizards would have us believe, then the only trolls on the evil side killing Trollhunters are just Angor Rot and Bular... which just seems off to me for how everything else is talked about in ToA:Trollhunters.

The Janus Order and the changelings are another confusing point that Wizards makes worse. When asked about changelings Blinky says that in the Old World Gumm-Gumms stole their young and did something unnatural to them and that their main purpose was to spy on the surface lands. Blinky also says that the Janus Order is an ancient guild of changeling spies, as old as they are mysterious. The phrasing of both these points imply that changelings have existed for a very long time by troll standards, not something that happened well within the lifespan of every troll seen in the show. In Wizards we see all of one changeling who’s already an adult and implies his power is new. Gunmar uses plural when he talks about Morgana’s changelings but they are also very clearly a brand new thing. From ToA:Trollhunter we know that human babies and changelings are exchanged through fetches into and out of the Darklands but if Wizards is to be believed and all the Gumm-Gumms except Bular were sealed away after the Killahead Bridge battle in 1116... who was stealing the babies? Bular? Considering how much Bular hates changelings I have a hard time picturing him setting up the exchanges to get the Janus Order established entirely on his own. If we assume there were a few changelings left loose after Morgana was sealed away... maybe... but Morgana and Gunmar just met and have worked together for like 3 days max... why are they so reliant on each other. And if most of the changelings were made after Morgana was sealed away then why are changelings like Otto so beholden and worshipful towards her? In his Janus Order orientation speech Strickler calls her their Lady Creator and that seems undisputed by any of the changelings. It is implied that Morgana is the only reason their are changelings. NotEnrique says he’s centuries old which means he’d been waiting in the Darklands as a baby until he was needed which I always took to mean that all the captured troll babies had been changed by Morgana before she was sealed away. If Morgana isn’t actually needed to make changelings, then why do they worship her and answer to her over Gunmar? Also Morgana only whispered to the changelings like Otto, never to Gunmar in the Darklands, so she couldn’t have helped set up the changeling magic from that side.

Then there is Morgana and Gunmar’s relationship. What we see in Wizards, Morgana becomes the champion of the 3 new elemental villains, she makes a changeling (off screen) and sends him to kill her brother, only then does she go see Gunmar. When Morgana talks to Gunmar she immediately brings up the Eternal Night, which... if she’s the champions of the 3 elemental beings who want the humans dead to bring balance to the world... how does the eternal night help them? It certainly wouldn’t help Nari of the Eternal Forest and I can’t think of any reason the other two would want that either. It only helps trolls (trolls who don’t realize that all their food sources need sunlight to exist). After we see her add the mind control power to Gunmar’s Decimaar Blade we don’t learn anything else she does for the Gumm-Gumms. To be honest, if I were Gunmar at this point I’d assume she set me up. Some sorceress shows up, is the king’s sister, she frees your son with a new troll hybrid thing you think is impure in order to get you to trust her and gives you a weapon upgrade to make you think you should go all in on the next battle and then you and your whole army gets locked away for 900 years... kinda no reason to think she ever had your back, especially not to the point that you trust people who say they’ve gotten visions from her in a worshipful way. She very clearly did Gunmar no favors in Wizards.

Merlin, oh Merlin... one, he’s entirely useless in the entirety of Wizards and always doing something wrong or just not having any power to do anything which is just baffling compared to the power he was throwing around in ToA:Trollhunters. As we see Morgana get sealed away in Wizards, it’s Douxie doing the sealing and Merlin has already fallen down and is asleep for some reason. This despite the fact that in ToA:Trollhunters he claimed he needed to use nearly all his power to seal her away and that was why he was asleep. That her being free meant he could get his power back which just... isn’t how anything happened in Wizards. Also Merlin very pointedly claimed that Jim couldn’t defeat Gunmar as a human, that he would die. But, in Wizards Merlin had originally been building the amulet for Arthur, a human. It was only afterwards that he decided to make it for trolls. So was the only reason Jim had to be a troll because the Jim he met was a troll? Because that is just really fucked up. The speech he gave Jim about needing to sacrifice his humanity, it implied that Merlin had planned this all out, seen this moment... but Wizards Merlin was just constantly in reaction mode and was completely backing Arthur and ignoring literally anything anyone else said until right before they went to the trolls for help. Merlin didn’t give a shit about trolls and they also hated him... but afterwards they love him to the point that they’ll talk worshiply about him? And why did they have to go back to the past? Merlin was so insistent they go back to the past at the start of Wizards... implied like they needed to flee the enemy but a moment after the kids are lost in time he just defeats the skull ship and no one that’s left on Camelot is in danger ¯\_(ツ)_/¯.

Also when Merlin and King Arthur go to the trolls to ask for help, at this point in Wizards it’s mostly been shown to be a battle between Gunmar and King Arthur for territory. It’s implied that the other trolls have until recently been more hurt by Arthur than Gunmar and Gunmar is only now trying to force them to join because he needs more recruits. Yet in ToA:Trollhunter the war was stated to be mostly a disagreement between Gumm-Gumms and all the “good” trolls and the humans just the victims. Everything in ToA:Trollhunters implied that humans didn’t stand a chance against trolls, Gunmar was endlessly dismissive but in Wizards King Arthur and company were a real danger to trolls, Cal/Deya was nearly taken out by an arrow. In fact the trolls of Dwoza were so useless that they needed humans to train them how to fight. They had no warriors? Where were Draal and Kanjigar during the fight with Arrrgh? So all of the trolls who would become the Heartstone Trollmarket trolls (including Bagdwella) had to be trained to fight by humans before Killahead but then were so disgusted by human Trollhunter Jim that they fainted? That they thought the very idea that a human could fight a troll was laughable? Yeah, that doesn’t make sense.

And Killahead Bridge, let us not forget. It is the portal to the Darklands but as Cal/Deya walks over it she dismissively says its nothing but a bridge over a dried up river so clearly Wizards is saying that Gunmar isn’t actively using the bridge as a portal, in fact we see no portals or any sort of magic used by trolls in Wizards, not even the door like in Heartstone Trollmarket, Dwoza just has a physical door. The only person who seems to have known that the bridge was a portal was Merlin as he is making battle plans. This also implies that the whole point of the amulet was just to seal Gunmar away in the Darklands. Which is just... why? The amulet hadn’t even been tested against Gunmar yet at this point. This brings up so many questions about the Darklands that are more confusing like how anyone figured out the fetches if travel back and forth from the Darklands wasn’t a thing until after the bridge became a sealed door.

As for the Trollhunters themselves, what were they all doing if every other Trollhunter existed between Deya and Kanjigar? Deya defeated Gunmar and sealed him away leaving only Bular and Angor Rot and the changelings. We know they weren’t fighting the Janus Order because Blinky had to look them up in a book and Blinky has actively been involved in several instances of Trollhunters (at least Kanjigar and Unkar) so he should know. Jim killed both Bular and Angor Rot, to whom everyone else just died. So what were they doing? Just cleaning up Gnome messes and Goblin battles? If there were no other Gumm-Gumms to fight, why was it a revered position that anyone wanted. The way Wizards sets up the timeline its more a curse that just means you have a countdown timer until Bular kills you. Also every single Trollhunter in the void tells Jim its suicide to fight Gunmar, even after he killed Bular. But by Wizards logic the first time the amulet was used against Gunmar it was able to seal him away forever with hardly a fight. If anything they should think Bular was more powerful than his father by that logic. It all just makes no sense.

There is more, like character backstory elements that upset me. For example how Arrrgh’s trauma over his treatment as a pet by Gunmar was ignored by Wizards and how his fear of violence was intrinsically linked to that trauma which fueled his insistence on pacifism and how Wizards showed him just casually hitting people after swapping sides with out any issues and that is just very upsetting to me, but that’s a very different rant.

In conclusion, Wizards has a lot of fun elements to it and can be a very fun watch, but it comes off like fan fiction to me, an alternate universe unconnected to the rest of canon. It doesn’t understand the world building that was established in ToA:Trollhunter and absolutely breaks its own timeline.

I’ve always pictured the line of Trollhunters stretching back to the Broze Age and the beginning of humanity, a war that has lasted several millennia, long enough that every troll in Trollmarket grew up in war, their lives shaped by it. A war that stretched out into their parents and grandparents generations. Which is completely doable from what we know of troll ages. Gunmar could easily be 4,000 years old (he looks it with all his cracks) and still not beat the oldest troll on record. Merlin always felt inhuman and ancient (centuries long nap and he just has to crack his spine), so he could be far far older than the Arthurian legends and have gone by many names. Also I clearly wasn’t the only one with this idea as if you read the Trollhunters novels or comics based after ToA:Trollhunters those authors assumed as I did. One novel has Jim and the gang go back to 501 AD to see Gunmar lose his eye to Orlagk. The Comics show an early Trollhunter interacting with humans from the stone age. To me this makes so much more sense. Trolls are old and long lived, it only makes sense that their perception of what constituted ancient be very different to what we humans see as ancient. They are also shown to be very slow to change, which is why it makes sense that the Trollhunter mantel is something that has been around longer than the current living trolls.

So anyway, I just really hope the movie doesn’t rely on too much of the nonsense that was shown in Wizards and is a fun romp. I loved full troll Jim and I miss half-troll Jim already. It just feels like his whole sacrifice was meaningless, that by undoing it and showing that humans can fight trolls just fine that it had been for nothing. Its just very disappointing. But that’s just my opinion (but then I’ve always voted for a Jim who can change back and forth and really have one foot in each world).

#trollhunters #toawizards #tales of arcadia #toa wizards #toa trollhunters

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mollymauk-teafleak · 4 years

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that storm will break

Seregil is in a wonderful mood on a fine winter morning but Alec is still worried.

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It felt like so long since a day had been this perfect.

The inn below their home was closed for the day, leaving them fending for themselves for lunch. Which, given how long they’d taken to get out of bed, had turned into breakfast. The day outside was bitterly cold and hard with frost but inside, everything was bathed in buttery lamplight and the fires roared. It was exactly where Alec wanted to be during a bitter Rhíminee winter day.

And, even better, Seregil was in a fine, high mood. Alec had woken up with his talí’s lips pressing lightly against his own, his hands pulling him close and the sound of his low laughter. It had been so long, he’d almost forgotten how much he loved that sound. They’d tumbled together until the sun would have been high in the sky, could it have made it past the slate grey clouds, the smiles never leaving their faces.

Though Alec watched him carefully, Seregil was still grinning and joking, in his oversized sleep shirt and very little else. Apparently seized with some cheerful energy, he flitted around the kitchen while his talímenios cooked, sitting on the counter and swinging his legs one moment and slipping behind him to squeeze his hips the next, swiping eggs from his hands when he wasn’t looking and kissing the back of his neck. Alec laughed and joked along with him as if it were any normal day, while his eyes stayed as alert for any change as they’d been for signs of prey in the woods.

Eventually, he nudged him aside with his hip, smiling, “Unless you want me to burn myself on this pan, quit being a nuisance and go do something useful like slice up some bread. Even you can’t burn the kitchen down doing that.”

“That sounds like a challenge, my love,” Seregil grinned back, stealing one last kiss to his cheek before moving off to do as he was asked, if only because he was as hungry as Alec was and eager to get breakfast on the table.

As he set to carving thick slices off the loaf they’d bought yesterday, ready for the bacon currently crisping in the pan, Alec stole him another glance. He knew his lover being so bright and cheerful shouldn’t have made him suspicious but he couldn’t help it. Any sudden change in Seregil’s behaviour usually meant he was hiding some hurt that he wasn’t ready to share or had made some plan he knew his talí wouldn’t like.

But in the last few days, his hurt had been plain to see.

“We’re in good spirits today?” Alec ventured, keeping his tone light.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Seregil stopped singing the bawdy little ditty he’d been halfway through to answer him, “No jobs for Lord Seregil, the Rhíminee Cat or the Watchers. The whole place entirely to ourselves. Nothing to do but hide from the weather in the arms of my sweet Alec and ravage him in several of my favourite ways.”

Alec knew his cheeks were colouring, he didn’t need to glance at his reflection, “Of course. It’s just good to see, love.”

Seregil made a non committal noise and launched back into his song right from where he’d left off, doing a sprightly little two step in place as he did. Alec shook his head gently and turned back to their breakfast. Perhaps this was just how his love dealt with things like this. After all, this was new to both of them.

As soon as his tavern song ended, on a clever little turn of phrase involving a male body part and a trout, Seregil picked up into another, a sea shanty this time that Alec could remember him picking up from some sailors. Then a bright reel from a country dance, then something in Aurënfaie he must have known since he was a child, then an almost sickeningly sweet love ballad, putting on a humorous falsetto to properly sing as a damsel in distress. As he toasted bread and buttered it, piling up far more than they’d really need, Seregil ran through a repertoire that would have made any performer on the Street of Lights envious.

By the time he was setting the full plates down on the table, Alec had tears of laughter in his eyes and had forgotten any worry he’d ever had.

“Come on, now,” he rapped his talímenios lightly on the elbow with his spoon, “Your performance can continue after you’ve actually got some food into you.”

Seregil stuck his tongue out at him, though he kept singing as he carried his plate of toast to join the rest of the fine breakfast gathering on their dining table, plucking another song out of his head from the many he kept there.

“I gave my love a cherry

That had no stone.

I gave my love a chicken

That had no bone.

I told my love a story

That had no end.

I gave my love a baby

With no crying…”

Alec smiled, putting their dented tin tea service together on a tray. He remembered that song too, one of Seregil’s favourites. He liked the riddle aspect of it and the lilting melody, the playful joke of it all that unravelled over the course of a few simple verses. It was one he’d often hum without thinking as he worked.

He looked over at Seregil, still swaying lightly on the balls of his bare feet and singing as he swept up an old, chipped vase they kept on the counter and started filling it with flowers he plucked from the bush outside the window. Maybe Alec had been wrong to worry about him so much.

“How can there be a cherry

That has no stone?

And how can there be a chicken

That has no bone?

And how can there be a story

That has no end?

And how can there be a baby

With no-”

Alec had his back to Seregil so he didn’t see it happen but he jumped a mile as the vase shattered on the tile. When he whirled around, Seregil was standing in the middle of the kitchen, face tight and hands shaking delicately, still shaped in the air to hold the flowers that had tumbled to the floor and now lay in a spreading pool of water around his feet.

And Alec didn’t need to ask why.

The song was one of Seregil’s favourites. He’d sung it so many times, enough that Alec had learned the words simply by absorbing them, even though that particular lullaby had never made it up north. Seregil had sung it as he’d worked on locks, he’d hummed it as he’d dressed in the morning, he’d whistled it as he read, sprawled on the sofa. But no matter where he was or what he was doing, when he’d reached that part in the song, he had stopped. For the last twenty five years, he’d never finished the song.

Because the last verse belonged to their daughter.

At that point, whether it was from the next room over or from the other side of the garden where she was drawing back her bow or the opposite chair in the library, Adzri would take up the tune in her high, sweet voice. She’d answer the riddles, she’d twist the words into their clever little patterns, she’d answer her father’s questions. She was the love in the song, their song that they’d always sung together.

But their daughter wouldn’t be able to answer from halfway across the ocean.

“Oh Seregil…” Alec moved to hold him, carefully stepping around broken crockery.

“She’s been gone for weeks and I still...I still just expected her to join in…” his talí whispered faintly, eyes fixed on nothing.

Alec folded him into his arms and, for a terrifying moment he thought he’d be greeted by only the still, emotionless mask Seregil had been wearing since their daughter set sail, the careful nothingness that had been worse than any grief. But then finally he felt the slighter man mould to his embrace, returning it fiercely as he started to sob.

Alec knew his agony, of course, he was Adzri’s father too. As her fine ship had pulled away from Rhíminee into a fresh dawn, it had felt as if half of his heart were being pulled away with it. The daughter he’d loved and protected since before she was even born, the perfect answer to his prophecy, going off into the big wide world to conquer it as he’d always known she would.

They’d dreaded it since the day she’d proven to have every ounce of her father’s wanderlust and bravery, since she’d eagerly climbed trees to the topmost branches to see the world laid out before her, since she’d begged just one more story of their travels every bedtime, since she’d explored every inch of the vast city she called home. They’d known even such as Rhíminee couldn’t hold their Adzri for long. It was why they’d bought her the ship she was currently off exploring who knew where in, presenting it to her on the day she’d come of age. It was why they’d gathered maps and books on far off places for the last year. It was why they hadn’t been surprised when she’d come to them and asked their leave to take her little ship and it’s little crew and go see a new shore.

Though it didn’t make saying goodbye any easier. Particularly for Seregil, to whom Adzri had been a shadow since the day she was born.

“She won’t be gone forever,” Alec murmured, stroking Seregil’s hair, “And she promised to write to us, whenever she could.”

“I know,” Seregil’s voice caught miserably, “I know, I know it’s what’s best for her, I know it’s what she’s always wanted so why...why am I being such a fool about it all?”

“Talí…” Alec groaned, drawing back so he could hold Seregil’s sodden face in his hands and look him in the eye, “You’re not being a fool. You’re being a father.”

Seregil sniffed and sighed deeply, “I miss her.”

“So do I,” Alec returned softly, “And that’s alright. It’s really our job when you think about it. To miss our girl and worry about her terribly and wish she’d never even laid eyes on the damned ocean, all while being so happy for her.”

Seregil managed a laugh, if a wet one, his old crooked smile coming back, “I suppose it is...by the Four, the world isn’t ready for her, is it?”

Alec chuckled, wiping tear tracks from his lover’s face with a gentle thumb, “It was never going to be.”

“And she has one of the most promising magical students in a generation as her field wizard, after all. What could harm her?”

Seregil’s grin gew at that, in rueful acknowledgement. Alec didn’t think Thero was ever going to forgive them for the bond between their daughters and all it had gotten his girl into, the least of which was this tour around the neighbouring countries. At that, Thero had at least been grateful she’d get some further education out of it.

“Don’t ever let Adzri hear you say that,” Seregil smiled, leaning into Alec’s hand, “She’d go in a huff all over being perfectly capable of defending herself with her bow and sword.”

“Ah well, no one can pout quite like our little girl,” Alec raised an eyebrow, “Apart from her father, of course.”

Seregil pulled a face, grey eyes dropping to the poor flowers on the floor, “I have been...unhelpful since she left. I’m sorry, I...I know you don’t like it when I keep what’s in my heart to myself. I should have grown out of it by now.”

“Only because I want it to be less of a burden when you share it with me,” Alec murmured, leaning in and kissing his cheek, still tasting a little salt, “But you do, in your own time, and I can live with that.”

“I do adore you, talí…”

“And I adore you.”

Some of his old mischief returned to Seregil’s eyes as they found his lover’s again, the arms around him less a drowning man clinging to some anchor and now more purposeful, a hand slipping down to cup his ass, “You do make having an empty nest more bearable.”

Alec smirked, tapping his chest in admonishment, though inside he was heaving a long, hard won sigh of relief to see his talí’s more genuine smile, “Our breakfast is getting cold.”

“Fine, a refuel then,” Seregil hummed, showing him just a shade of that famous pout as he gave his backside a last squeeze and moved away to the table.

Alec joined him with a roll of his eyes, taking the seat beside him even though there were other options. And yes, the one empty chair across from them was a sad sight, but it was a bearable ache now.

“And who knows,” Seregil hummed, picking up his knife and fork as Alec took a deep drink of tea that he’d been gasping for since he’d woken up, “Maybe we could start looking at making our empty nest a little less empty?”

The way Seregil cackled as Alec choked on his tea and spluttered it across the entire table told him that his talímenios was back to his old self, for real.

And that their days would never be the same. But they could still be perfect.

#nightrunners #seregil i korit #alec i amasa #adzriel i alec #hurt/comfort #domestic fluff #I really hope you like it #please reblog and comment!

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charmingturkeysandwich · 5 years

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I Could Use a Love Song (2/22): where the whiskey drowns and the beer chases

Pairing: Emma Swan/Killian Jones (AU) Words: 3k(ish) Rating: T for this chapter, I’d say. (M overall) Chapter Summary: The band’s first day with their new roadie gets off to a shaky start.

Read on AO3.

---

Having grown used to shitty sleeping situations through foster homes, homelessness, couch surfing, and now touring, Emma awoke the next morning refreshed and ready to fight.

Yep, fight. Because the prior evening she’d been exhausted and hovering in that weird stage of drunk where you’re basically pre-hungover, and life had thrown a hot roadie at her. Except it wasn’t life that had done that. It was David. David who in the year of our lord 2019 most fucking certainly had a cell phone and could have shot her a text that a stranger was going to crash her quiet night alone.

Not that Killian crashed in any sense beyond sleep. They were seemingly both out before even the first song had finished playing through her speakers and he was still eyes-closed and breathing steady now that Emma was crawling over the seat and out the door, dead set on properly raging about the ridiculousness of this decision in addition to the lack of communication that shouldn’t exist among people who literally write words for a fucking living.

Seriously. How hard is it to send a text? Don’t wanna do your dirty work yourself, you can just tell Siri to piss of your bandmate on your behalf.

A little warning might have been nice. But she got none. So they weren’t getting any either.

“Rise and shine, motherfuckers!” Emma squawked as she flung open the door to David and Mary Margaret’s bedroom (they knew she had a copy of it, so really they should have thought twice before giving her no warning that she was going to have to deal with some weird ass alternate universe, very fuckable Captain Hook every single day for the foreseeable future. And pay him.

“Emma!” Mary Margaret gasped, yanking the comforter over what was probably her bare chest, but Emma didn’t bother to even glance at her. Accomplice in lack-of-communication, probably… but David was her object of fury.

Speaking of… “What the hell are you doing?!” he shouted, more confused than angry at her intrusion.

“I have a leather-jacket-wearing bone to pick with you, sir.”

“Aw, shit. You met Liam’s brother then?”

“Met him, slept with him, you know, the basic first steps in an employer-employee relationship.”

“Emma! You had sex with Killian?!” Mary Margaret sounded positively scandalized, which made sense for her own personality in addition to the fact that Emma hadn’t slept with anyone in … well it would probably be measured in years and not months, so. It would have been a shock if it were true.

“No, mom, but he slept in the van with me, which is my happy place. Not a place for strays.”

David stood up from the bed, raking his fingers through his hair in what looked like frustration or perhaps the pain of a hangover headache (good).

“We’re all strays, Emma. Can’t you be a little more accepting?”

“Can’t you be a little more with the warning?! You’re lucking I didn’t punch him when he approached me in a dark fucking alley, David.” Which was true. After much of the shit she suffered in her younger years, she didn’t take a chance or give anyone the benefit of the doubt if they seemed to have ill intentions.

He paused, daring blankly at her before taking a swig of the water next to their little bed. Light was just barely filtering through their curtains, so it was still early. No rush to hit the road quite yet, still time to get breakfast and drink their weights in coffee.

Usually the mornings were more pleasant than this.

Usually it was just the five of them in a diner, and usually she was listening to their post-gig stories, not sharing much of her own.

“Where did you leave him, then? Or did you already fire him?”

“Now, David, how could I fire someone I never even hired?! You remember we voted that we didn’t have the money to add staff.”

At that, Mary Margaret perked up, her back straightening as her mascara-smudged face scrunched in guilt. “That one is actually on me. We were on FaceTime with Killian and he’s just so… he’s in a bad place, Emma, and he needs money and people and we couldn’t just let him… “

“Go to the pound with the other strays? Fine. I get it. He doesn’t seem like the worst person in the world. But, like, give a girl a heads-up? And to answer your question, David, I left him soundly asleep in the van. I’m not a goddamn monster.”

Emma stormed out with no real destination in mind, just a deep craving for coffee and a bear claw and space from any other living human who might attempt to converse with her when she needed a minute to wallow in her semi-justified rage.

Of all the people to find her, of fucking course it was Killian.

Known him 12 hours or less and he was already the biggest pain in her ass.

“Swan, fancy seeing you here!” His voice was bright despite the wrinkles in this clothes and the hair that was no longer ‘artfully mussed,’ but more… hurricane-ravaged.

“Why are you so chipper?” is all she croaked back in response.

“Well I’ve already had an unpleasant encounter with Brother Dave and figured I would try to make this one a little less fraught with tension and don’t get any ideas about Emma you wanker.” Killian plopped down across from her, already clutching a coffee from somewhere that definitely was not the diner she’d wandered into and been sulking at for at least 2 hours.

“Why would he yell at you? And why are you calling him brother? And… just why?”

“Apologies, Swan, I assumed you’d had enough coffee and sugar to cope with me by now. I was warned of that. You see, apparently I was supposed to just go ‘sleep on a bench in a park’ or something to that effect and then not introduce myself to you or the rest of the crew until morning. Silly me. So David, who appears to think of himself as your father but who was best friends with my brother, proceeded to lecture me about how I’m not allowed to get in your pants. As if you didn’t have a say in the matter. Don’t worry, darling, I clarified that you will without a doubt never care for me beyond tolerance and he seemed to unbunch his knickers.”

“You know, Jones, if I’m not your love I’m probably not your darling, either.”

“Goodness sakes, woman, can you perhaps glean the important information from my babbling and not focus the filler?”

“Fine. Fuck your filler. We’re probably late for leaving by now, though,” Emma said, glancing at the clock on the wall and then at her message-filled phone. She rose from the table slowly, downing the rest of her lukewarm coffee and shoving a doughnut toward Killian in the process. “Shall we?”

He did some type of bow/curtsey nonsenense and flourished his arm toward the door as if to say ladies first and Emma stomped right past him, already 110% fed up with his weird country boy/Jane Austen hero attempt at chivalry when she knew he was no gentleman and she was no goddamn lady.

It appeared that the new guy had already met the rest of the team, Ruby fist bumping him and Graham giving him a hungover nod to acknowledge his return. David and Mary Margaret were blessedly silent about any of the morning’s arguments and simply hopped in the driver and passenger seats so they could meander over to the next tiny ass New York town full of Their People.

Some days were harder than others when it came to the places they played. None of them were the hellish ‘hometown’ she’d steadfastly refused to ever revisit, but each seemed to capture some kind of echo of her past. It was really a shame that scent was so tied to memory, because dive bars were smelly places. The right combination of Marlboro Menthol Lights, Miller, and whatever was in that black bottle from Avon and suddenly Emma was back at the Buckhorn, drinking to forget the hurt she hadn’t quite sustained yet, but was inevitably coming.

She always got past it. Rage was good like that, strong enough to overcome the heartbreak of individual memories. Whiskey helped, too.

Graham and Ruby were sprawled on either side of the middle row in the shabby van, both passed out (clearly they hadn’t done enough sleeping wherever it is either of them had gone the night before). David and Mary Margaret, meanwhile, were quietly singing to each other from the front, songs too cheesy for the other three bandmates to ever agree to allow to be performed on stage.

So that left her and Killian, the only two life forms currently active in actual reality.

“So what’s your story, Jones?

He rolled his head on his shoulders, sliding his line of sight from the video to meet her (probably too-harsh) stare. “What makes you think I have a story?”

“You’re on the road with a country band. In my experience you don’t get to that point without some stuff preceding it. Come on, Jones. Someone stole your truck, shot your dog, or screwed your wife. Which one?”

“Where are your manners, young lady, you definitely take a bloke to dinner before you ask for his Tragic Backstory. That’s got to be written somewhere. For shame!” he whisper-shouted, quite overdramatically.

Maybe he’d gotten his heart broken at drama camp.

“What else am I supposed to ask you? I don’t have much information to go on here.”

“Why don’t you start with, ‘Killian, it’s so nice to meet you. How about you tell me a little about yourself?’”

Her answering eye roll reminded her she hadn’t properly removed her makeup from the night before, not having taken her usual five minutes in the lovers’ hotel room bathroom to allow for proper skin care. Fuck, her pores were going to be pissed.

“I’m not quite that polite, but fine. We’ll have it your way. Why don’t you tell me a little about yourself?”

That “little about himself” went on for about an hour, covering everything from his love of football to how underrated asiago cheese was on casual dining menus. They disagreed on silly subjects like the best fast food and what to take on a deserted island. They pretty much only agreed that David and Mary Margaret were insufferable and that love was for losers.

(And yes, that was the closest she got to unlocking even one small detail about his Tragic Backstory.)

They talked all the way to the next hole-in-the-wall bar, which did, in fact, like it might have some holes in it in the light of day.

“Thank the fucking lord we’re finally here. Will you two shut up now?” Ruby moaned into the seat cushion, apparently not as knocked out as Emma had assumed from her unmoving silence the entire ride.

“’s not our fault you two oafs don’t use the nighttime for sleeping,” Killian snarked back at her.

Hmm. Maybe they’d gotten more acquainted than Emma had realized.

Add that to the pile of Killian Jones-related mysteries.

Graham had been so exhausted, he didn’t even awake when the van emptied out, still snoozing even as they hauled all their shit into the bar. Just to be a jerk, Emma even tossed a drum stick at him. But he just grumbled and turned, unfazed by her minor assault.

“Hope he lost sleep for the good reason, if you know what I mean,” Killian said, as he bumped his shoulder into hers. He was carrying a guitar case in his right hand and had his left forearm wrapped around one of the boxes carrying electrical equipment.

“Yes, in that tone, I’m pretty sure people up in Vermont know what you mean?”

“I’m not sure about that one. Have you been to Vermont? I don’t think I’ve ever met a fuckable person from that whole state.”

“Don’t say that around David. I’m 99% sure he’d fuck Bernie Sanders.”

The two of them laughed so hard they almost dropped their very expensive equipment, especially when David, as if on cue, turned back toward them: “what’s in Vermont? There’s this ski place I’ve wanted to go to…”

Their laughter turned to near howling as poor, out-of-the-loop David rambled on about Mt. Snow being a great place to take a date and how exactly that could be so funny that two people who’d met last night had already been reduced to giggling middle schoolers.

Mary Margaret and Killian quickly started setting up for their set, even though they had a few hours until people would actually show (she was a worrier, and it was technically his first day on the job). So that gave the other slackers some time to rest and eat greasy food and hopefully get properly buzzed before the show so Emma didn’t have a random panic attack at some dude wearing a blue plaid shirt with pink Vans like Neal used to, once upon a time.

Catching up on the night before was usually their breakfast routine, but having avoided that, Emma assumed she’d just end up not knowing how Graham and Ruby had spent their time. Thankfully, both were perfectly happy to provide a secondary replay of their evenings.

Well, Ruby was happy to. See, she hadn’t done anything scandalous the night before. No fucking strangers for her! Turns out, a friend of hers from college lived in that little town and she’d gone over to her place to catch up. Friends old and new were there and she mostly missed out on sleep for conversation and a few truly ridiculous board games (who played Chutes and Ladders when they were plastered?).

Graham, on the other hand, had not had as enjoyable an evening. He’d met a girl, a very pretty girl, and she’d asked him back to her place. He had enthusiastically agreed right up until he was pounding into her against her kitchen counter only to be interrupted by her boyfriend. Thankfully there was no macho how dare you touch my girlshowdown, but it did leave Graham with a bad case of blue balls and nowhere to sleep.

“Wait! Why didn’t you come to the van with me? I don’t bite,” Emma protested as Graham was describing wandering the roads with streetlights until it was appropriately light enough to be breakfast time.

“You don’t think that’s the first place I went? I peeked my head in the fan and saw his shaggy ass and thought you might actually have taken the leap and met someone. No chance in hell I was going to spook you if you finally found a guy you didn’t want to murder on first sight.”

She yelped out a very offended hey, but deep down, he wasn’t wrong. He and David were just the only two men to ever prove to her they were interested in her as a human being and not a punching bag or human fleshlight. She was thankful for finding them and realizing that the whole not all men has some merit, but not enough to take any chances on a guy.

“Well now that you know your assessment couldn’t have been further from the truth, I bet you’re feeling pretty silly for missing out on sleep.”

“No, I stand by my decision. But, yeah, tonight I’m crashing in the van with you two. Unless, I mean, if you ever want privacy with him…”

“YES!” Ruby squealed. “You two would make the cutest babies. You know, someday. With little leather jackets and horrendous attitudes. It would be legit adorable.”

From the corner of her eye she could see David’s face turning fuchsia and she was reminded of the speech he’d apparently given Killian that morning (as if she needed protecting). Not even close.

“Hah, very funny there, Rubes. You think he’s so good looking, you can go for it.”

“Oh, no you will not!” David shouted. “No casual sex within the band.”

(Hey, at least he was yelling at someone who wasn’t her.)

“But you and Mary Margaret!” she protested.

“Nothing casual about that. Marry Killian, fine. I’ll throw the bridal shower. But do not fuck him for fun. We need him and he doesn’t need another mess.”

Before Emma had a chance to ask David to elaborate on that clear Tragic Backstory Hint, Mary Margaret and Killian plopped down at the table, set-up apparently finished.

“So… what do we do now?” Killian asked, the blunt end of his left arm fiddling with the thick ring on his right thumb.

Mary Margaret, David, and Graham collectively responded, “Eat!”

Ruby and Emma were more of the let’s get drunk frame of mind and instead replied, “Shots!”

So the crew of six ordered shots for 12 and their first official day as a team had begun.

By the time they were being announced for the stage, Emma was red-faced and stumbling, Mary Margaret was giggling about the word “banana” and Killian had already told sixteen different dirty jokes, all met with a deeper scowl from Emma each time.

That night Graham’s drumming was just a tad out of sync and David forgot that he wasn’t actually supposed to sing the girl parts of their one duet-style song, but none of that mattered. The crowd was wild, totally tuned in and screaming their hearts out right along with them. Halfway through their set, just before Emma relinquished lead vocals to Mary Margaret for Sappy Hour, she clutched the microphone in her hand, swaying as she returned it to the stand at the edge of the stage, yelling, “I love everyone in this bar!”

This whole ‘having friends’ thing just got better and better every single day.

Especially when puking in the dumpster at 3am. You find out who your friends are, right about then, and only Ruby was mockingly taking SnapChat videos. Killian got her water and Graham held her hair and the last thing she remembered before she passed out was telling the other strays she was just so glad they all somehow found each other.

#cs ff #cs au #multichapter #keisha writes #i could use a love song

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biteheir · 5 years

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@kirinojotei : CONTINUED

❛ SHE’S A TERRORIST. Akatsuki will come for her. ❜ Is hurled from mouth to mouth around the rocking ship deck like casted stones - like fingers pointing witch. The crew of predominantly male civilian sailors pronounces this as the superstitious seamen used to murderously murmur about maidens bringing misfortune upon their ships in ancient times. In the same deadly tones as their repulsive ancestors before forcing damsels to walk the plank to fall to their watery deaths lest their wicked femininity summon an ocean demon to sink them all. And the Mizukage, peering at the bespectacled young woman with blood for tresses and incriminating clouds emblazoned upon her adornment with her slender arms bound by chakra sealing rope to the main mast of their seafaring vessel surrounded by Kiri Shinobi with watchful eyes, Mei knows that the risk is genuine. Yet, more pressing is that much worse awaits the Uzumaki in Krigakure’s merciless T and I unit if she refuses to offer the intel the Shinobi Alliance seeks. The Raikage was brutally clear and specific about what they need from the girl. It is only expected after the Uzumaki’s comrades stole every Bijuu but two, attacked the Hokage Summit, and their leader declared war on the world.

However, while the Godaime Mizukage can resort to ruthlessness if she so pleases and delegate the task to her interrogators and their sophisticated and draconian methods, she has learned that kindness can be a much greater weapon and tongue loosener. That incentives and rewards can encourage an enemy to turn with more ease than punishment. And motivation can be offered in many forms. This is partly why Mei is not only feared and respected by her people but loved. Good-natured Chojuro on Mei’s orders has been speaking to Karin Uzumaki softly, coaxingly like the girl is a guest rather than a prisoner. As Mei trained him to with Ao listening closeby but out of sight, analyzing her chakra to search for truthful confirmation and fabrications. And their watercraft is only passing the former Uzushiogakure’s seas towards Mizu no Kuni’s borders when Mei leaves the captain’s quarters after discussing the progress of their voyage that her keen ears catch the three telling words. Aburn lashes flutter as she gazes out at the turquoise whirlpools in the distance before advancing her way next to Chojuro, all voices hushing.

❝ You say your work saved your life. ❞ Mei begins, for this is what she has been waiting for. A hairline crack in the Uzumaki’s armor - a shred of weakness. No matter how fake it can be, it is something - and it is this statement that the Mizukage relates to on a personal level - and thus an opening to establish common ground. ❝ When my people were embroiled in the ravages of civil wars when women like you and me with gifts were hunted like vermin by the evils of fearful men, our families slaughtered…when we were starving, despairing, and in hiding like rats, and united but alone, I too, kept myself standing because my work ensured my life meant something. What is this work that helped you survive? ❞

What lead you here from the ruins of Uzushiogakure into the clutches of Akatsuki?

karin wasn’t stupid ; she had never been stupid. it’s how she rose through the ranks in otogakure so quickly. it’s how she earned the semi-trust of orochimaru. of course , the snake never really trusted her or anyone for that matter aside from kabuto but kabuto was held to a higher standard than the rest of them. kabuto was his first that he twisted to serve him. kabuto wouldn’t have betrayed orochimaru. karin however - karin was a wild-card and she had always been. from following orochimaru due to his pure strength that rolled off of him in waves , to doing what it took to gain his trust going as far to use honorifics to fool the plebeians into making her think that she was a loyal servant of the snake master. she pulled out enzymes and taught herself anything she wanted to know. she never needed him to teach her. she was special. and that -- that was what concerned him the most. at least if she was hard-pressed to say if something unsettled him about her. and so , when she steps on board , she cuts her eyes towards the others that speak in barely concealed whispers. red hair had always been a bad omen , considering that they worked for the devil themselves and with her own linage of demon-sealers in her blood -- she too , would probably not trust her. ( not that karin trusted easily anyways. no , only fools did that. ) it’s no matter , she knows that they aren’t trying to conceal their words. it’s in the way they side-eye her as they past. karin may not be able to sense accurately but it doesn’t mean she doesn’t know how to read people. they don’t trust her. she wishes that she didn’t have these binds on , it’s makes her system all types of wonky. she can read the basics but it keeps her from really manifesting her ability. they keep their distance and a few , brave little men , stupid little men , try to intimidate her but she isn’t intimidated so easily. she stares back at them, a brow quirking as she doesn’t blink until they look away, uncomfortable. she shifts in her akatsuki cloak and wonders how the rest of her team faired. if they had gotten anything , if they had killed danzo like the original goal. ( well, suigetsu and juugo had been caught. she worries about sasuke for a brief moment before she thinks of how he talked down to her. stupid little man thinking that he was better than her. they were cut from the same cloth and he had the audacity to look down on her. no matter. )

she doesn’t know how much time has passed , but there’s an ache when she travels past uzushiogakure. she thinks of her mother , loyal to the end , loyal to a dead fault. over-working herself just to keep a roof over their head and keep the faith of the kusa-nin. of her father with his boisterous laughter and fists twice the size of her. how he would take any mission just to be able to afford something pretty for her mother. of stories she had been told growing up and she doesn’t even recognise herself whispering the words as she stares distractly in the distance of her parents homeland. what does stop her, brings her back to the present is when mei , the old hag that had called sasuke handsome. karin could admire the woman in another life, she was strong. she was powerful. and karin had always had something akin to respect for those -- but she had called sasuke handsome. ( no , don’t think of him. he isn’t thinking of you stupid little girl. ) she seems small in her akatsuki cloak , surrounded by nothing but enemy nin and she contemplates on telling her her story. to see if mei would understand. ( someone should understand. tell her story to future generations -- but no, karin hadn’t surivived this long to just die. ) she watches mei for a moment, crimson staring at the other, contemplating on what she should say. she has to play this a certain way. she lets out a sigh before looking away. with that sensor around karin probably wouldn’t be able to lie that easily. “ orochimaru saved my life when i was younger. he forced me to work for him. gave me a purpose. ” made her strong, made her invincible. " he found me shortly after kusagakure's destruction. " not a lie.

#kirinojotei #me : it wont be long #also me : haha here u go !#kirigakure.

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shewhohangsoutincemeteries · 6 years

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don’t touch my stuff

Rocket Raccoon x Reader

Summary: requested by anonymous. the milano crew are stuck paying taxi to yondu, who quickly takes a liking to the reader. only problem is, she’s already involved with a certain raccoon, even if the others don’t know it yet.

Characters/Pairings: rocket x reader, peter quill x gamora, yondu udonta, drax, baby groot

Warnings: minor explicit language, unwanted flirting

Word Count: 2,346

MARVEL MASTERLIST

You sat cross-legged and comfortable on the floor of the Milano’s main room, your paperback laying abandoned by your side. You’d intended just to read for a while, content to keep Rocket silent company as he worked on whatever new device he was creating. The two of you spent a lot of time like that; while neither of you addressed it, the friendship between you had grown into something more emotionally intimate in the last month or so, something neither of you had named. Still, you’d stopped picking up men at bars while at port, and Rocket slept curled against the small of your back more often than not. Whatever it was, you were keeping it to yourselves; you were still trying to come to grips with your feelings for the raccoon, and you didn’t need input from the others until you both knew where you stood.

Nothing had really changed between you outwardly; you still shared a bunk, you still sat by his side at dinner and you were still the one most likely not to suffer a shot from a blaster if a drunken Rocket had to be manhandled out of a bar. The others were in the cockpit, and you’d had about ten minutes of quiet (aside from the quiet backdrop of Quill’s mixtape) with your partner and book before you’d gotten distracted.

Not by Rocket – he was still fiddling with spare parts – but by the tiny tree that shared your bunk and would wake you up at night to beg for candy.

Your hands were raised in front of you, fingers twitching in the gestures you always used to shape and control your projections on a small scale. The mid-level ability to create psychokinetic force fields came with its perks, and while you didn’t have as much control as you liked, entertaining Groot on long treks between planets was definitely one of them. It might not have been the usual purpose, but you could always chalk it up to honing your reaction times. Besides, the little guy loved this game.

You were projecting a small, saucer-sized field about a foot or so above you for Groot to use as a platform. With a joyful cry he leapt off it blindly, and you quickly closed your fist to dissolve it while summoning up another with your other hand. You caught him about eight inches down and further away from you. He giggled as he landed, standing again and jumping on it excitedly. Every time his feet met it, ripples of blue-tinged energy would dance through it. Rocket glanced up at the two of you, an amused, affectionate expression on his face, one that he only let cross it when you were alone.

“I am Groot!”

“Yeah, I saw it, little man.” Rocket assured him, like a dad tiredly watching his kid on a diving board.

You wiggled your fingers experimentally, the shield expanding. Groot bounced around the edges of it happily before leaping off again. You caught him hastily with another projection, a few inches above Rocket’s head. The raccoon smirked up at him as Groot waved at him through it. You bit you lip and released the energy suddenly, bursting into laughter as the Flora Colossus fell straight onto your partner’s head.

Rocket cursed as his little friend tumbled down into his lap, glaring at you. You winked teasingly at him as Groot babbled away laughingly; the little guy immediately began tugging at the edge of Rocket’s jumpsuit, eager for him to join the two of you.

“You’re a frickin’ pain, you know that?” he huffed, trying to hide his smile. He shook Groot off and poked him in the belly when he pouted. Groot laughed again, wriggling away. “The both of ya.”

“Oh, please. You’ve been paying more attention to us than whatever the hell that is.” You taunted playfully, gesturing at the half-finished device in front of him. “Which is…?”

“Prototype.”

“How enlightening.”

“Shut your mouth, I’m workin’,” he grinned.

You snickered, beckoning Groot towards you. He scampered over excitedly. “Again?”

“I am Groot!”

“How about a speed run?” you suggested and he nodded, bracing himself like a runner at the starting line. You turned to Rocket. “Do the honors?”

He sighed and rolled his eyes. “On your marks… Get set… Go!”

You summoned a force field, dissolving it and creating another in front of it almost immediately after Groot jumped upon it. He ran over each of them, and you both continued all the way to the table in the middle of the room. When Groot’s feet met the tabletop you both cheered, Rocket clapping behind you in amusement. You stood and stretched, stiff from sitting on the hard floor.

“Well, ain’t you just full of surprises?”

You turned around, caught off-guard. Yondu Udonta was leaning against the wall by the cockpit’s ladder. Quill followed him down and gave you a friendly wink, taking a seat at the table and planting his feet on it.

He was doing his old captain a favor – Yondu needed to get somewhere Ravager ships weren’t welcome, but thanks to the events on Xandar, the Milano was the exception. So, you were all stuck playing taxi for a while.

You flushed and stiffened uncomfortably; you weren’t used to people seeing you use your abilities, not in a personal setting. You saw Rocket straighten in your periphery, ears up, no doubt noticing your wariness. “Can I help you with something?”

Yondu smirked widely at you, touching his tongue to a canine. “Haven’t decided yet. I’m Yondu.”

“She knows who you are, ya moron.” Rocket interjected sarcastically as he tossed his work aside and moved to your side, arms folded. You coughed to smother a laugh. “How many ugly-ass blue guys you think Quill knows?”

“Rocket…” Quill groaned, exasperated.

“Missed you too, Rat.”

You rolled your eyes. “I’m Y/N.”

“Ain’t you just…” Yondu replied, giving you an appraising look that made you very aware of the tightness of your jeans. It was kind of strange; he had the same kind of charm to him that Quill did, and you had to wonder if Quill had purposely picked up Yondu’s mannerisms, or if it had been subconscious. Either way, it was uncanny; the look he gave you was the same one Peter had once upon a time, and just like then, you ignored it. You saw Quill shake his head exasperatedly out of the corner of your eye. “What exactly is it you were doin’, darlin’?”

“I, uh…” you cleared your throat. “I make shields.”

“Shields?”

“Like… force fields.”

“Out of thin air?”

“…with my brain?”

“You just think it and ‘poof’?”

“Something like that.”

“She’s a hell of an asset in a fight,” Quill interjected, and you shot him a small smile. “Stand out in the open with her and they can’t land a single shot.”

“And what does that make you exactly, girlie?” Yondu asked, stepping away from the wall and towards you as Drax descended the ladder.

“She’s Terran.” Rocket said sourly. He knew, as did the rest of crew, that you’d had a hard time coming to terms with your mutant genes back on Terra. Your time at the Charles Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters had helped you learn to control and appreciate your abilities, but the idea that people would consider you abnormal still stung. “Just like Quill.”

“Except for her mutation. Quill doesn’t have one of those.” Drax pointed out casually, and you glared at him. The smallest of growls rumbled through Rocket’s throat. “What?”

“You one of them mutants, then?”

“If you want to get all technical about it.”

“Wanna show me what you can do?”

“You get any closer and you’re gonna find out.” you dead-panned, and Rocket sniggered. Quill coughed to cover a laugh of his own.

“Is that a promise?” Yondu said suggestively.

“Ugh,” you groaned. “I’m going to my bunk.”

***

Yondu paid particular attention to you over the next few days; dropping comments whenever you came in the room. It was easy to ignore, but you could tell that it was starting to get to Rocket. He tensed every time Yondu came into the room, so you’d taken to avoiding him just to keep Rocket relaxed.

It wasn’t until his third night on the ship that it became an actual issue. Quill, Drax and Yondu had broken out some of the heavier stuff early in what would be considered the afternoon, the roar of their laughter and macho posturing echoing through the ship. You’d eventually convinced Rocket to join them, insisting he have a good time.

You had joined Gamora in the cockpit and taken the opportunity to ride shotgun and get a kind of intro course into flying. You’d spent a few hours with her, Groot scrambling happily underfoot, and while Gamora was quieter than your male cohort, she was wonderful company. She’d watched with interest as you’d tried projecting a shield around Groot instead of in front of him; she’d offered to help with more hands-on training once you were planet-side.

Quill had called you both down for food some time later, and while Gamora had rolled her eyes at the slurring of his speech, she’d set the Milano to auto-pilot and the two of you had gone down to join them, Groot riding on the assassin’s shoulder.

The four of them were sitting around the table, drinks in hand. Rocket stole a quick glance at you as you passed, a drunken, affectionate smile on his mouth and a twitch in his ears. Gamora touched a hand to Quill’s shoulder as she passed, and his came up to brush over it.

“Is this a liquid dinner?” you asked in amusement, noting the complete lack of food on the table. “Cause if you’re expecting us to make it… Well, Gamora won’t be impressed.” You caught her smirking at that.

Quill looked sheepish, but Drax had no qualms about speaking up. “Gamora is too formidable to expect that from, Y/N. But you are much more suited to domestic work.”

Quill let out a dramatic gasp at that and Yondu snorted. They’d had more than you’d thought.

“Thanks, buddy.” You said sarcastically, but you rolled your eyes and headed for the kitchen. “You’re gonna pay for that later.”

“I am not afraid of doing battle with you!” Drax declared loudly.

“Oh, not in battle, my friend,” you told him as you returned, hauling with you a bunch of snack food. Not the healthiest dinner, but maybe the salt would help sober them up. “Get used to freezing showers.”

Rocket laughed at that, and you winked at him as you passed around food.

“Thanks, darlin’.” Yondu drawled, and you faltered as you felt his hand caress your backside. You spun around, instinctively summoning up a force field between the two of you. It stretched floor to ceiling and was big enough that it knocked him off his chair, and Drax roared with laughter at the bewildered expression on the blue man’s face.

“What the hell’d you do that for?!” Yondu said, clambering to his feet.

“You don’t touch me,” you said, voice hard despite its wavering. You weren’t used to projecting shields so large, and you realized it had been hours since you’d last eaten. Your head spun slightly.

“What’d he just do?” Rocket demanded, standing on his chair. His voice was still thick with alcohol, but his tone was serious now. “What did you just do?!”

“Rocket, man, what’s your problem?” Quill had straightened slightly in his seat, but Gamora looked surprisingly calm beside him. Maybe even a little proud.

“Did you just touch her?” Rocket was off his seat and in front of you before you’d even realized it. You felt dizzy, and your hand found the tabletop for support. Low blood sugar was a bitch. “You don’t get to touch her.”

“Rocket…”

“Man, relax!” Quill was now out of his seat, hands up in a pacifying gesture. Last thing he needed were holes in his ship.

“You got a problem with that, Rat?” Yondu challenged defensively, ego bruised.

“Yeah, I got a problem, asshole.” Rocket slurred angrily. “You don’t get to touch what’s mine!”

“What’s yours?” Quill repeated, the slightest hint of amusement to his words. “Rocket, have you got a crush?”

Drax’s laughter renewed, almost painfully loud, and he almost fell out of his chair himself. “The rodent has feelings for the Terran!”

Rocket snarled, hackles raised as he turned on the two of them. Despite the increasingly uncomfortable dizziness you were feeling, you held out your hand and projected a small shield in front of him, barely the size of a baseball. Still, he stopped, glancing down at it and then at you.

“It’s okay, Rocket. I’m fine…”

“He’s—”

You closed your hand, the shield dissipating, and reached out shakily to stroke the fur behind his ear. You gave him a small, reassuring smile. “It’s okay.”

“Uh, Y/N…?”

You stiffened slightly, hand halting, before turning to face the others. “You got something to say, Peter?”

He hesitated, before shaking his head. “Nope, I’m just very, very, drunk.”

“Good.” You nodded, turning to the Destroyer. “Drax? You laugh at Rocket one more time and I find out what happens when I project a force field inside someone.”

Oh my God, you actually made Drax the Destroyer gulp. Gamora, who seemed to be taking this revelation pretty much in stride, looked somehow more proud than before.

“You—” you pointed a finger at Yondu, who was watching the whole situation unfurl with a mixture of confusion and amusement. “Touch me again and we’re gonna have a problem. Otherwise, we’re all good.”

“’ppreciate it.” He replied, nodding and helping himself to another drink. “Tell you what, Rat. You got yourself a hell of a spitfire there.”

There was a cockiness in Rocket’s expression that almost made you roll your eyes, but it disappeared under the blooming affection he wore as he looked at you. “Yeah. She’s got me, too.”

tags: @lovely-dreamer19 @spacesuitsforemergency @wittyforachange @moon-tastic

#rocket raccoon #mine: fanfic #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction #rocket raccoon x reader #rocket raccoon x you #marvel x reader #marvel imagine #gotg imagine #gotg fanfic #rocket raccoon fanfic #guardians of the galaxy #guardians of the galaxy fanfic #rocket raccoon fanfiction #marvel reader insert #guardians of the galaxy reader insert #gotg fanfiction

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skyfallofcybertron-blog · 5 years

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Transformers: Skyfall. Bonus Chapter: There’s a Light That Never Goes Out

He didn’t witness it. After their mission; Night Glide and Skyfall went their separate ways. He had to report to Thundercracker. Skyfall had to go and upload the files she stole into to the ship’s computer for decryption. It was standard procedure. It should have been simple.

On the commanding deck; the young Seeker’s meeting was interrupted by a panicking Vechicon drone. One stationed in the labs. Night Glide didn’t need a further explanation and, luckily, the member of Megatron’s top commanding trine he was speaking to was the sensible one. Thundercracker excused him to go to the medical bay.

The Convent’s medic, Echo, hung by the ceiling; working away quickly by the time Night Glide got there. Echo was an incredibly small two-wheeler. So, to make her medical skill set useful to patch up bigger sized bots; the engineering team aboard the ship constructed her a harness so she could be suspended over the injured. Working completely obstructed above all those who entered her base of operations.

However, even Echo’s small servos where nothing compared to the patient she was working on. Skyfall layed on her side. Wires attached to the Minicon’s spinal strut criss-crossed all across the medical berth she was nestled in as she struggled for every intake.

‘She just collapsed.’ The Vechicon that reported her explained, ‘She just hooked herself up for the download and collapsed.’

It didn’t take a genius to figure out that the Autobots’ files had implanted a virus into Night Glide’s small Deployer.

He ghosted a servo over Skyfall’s helm only to be surprised by not only the external damage done to it when she fell, but the extreme heat that was coming off her plating. Night Glide pulled his servo back quickly. His talons fidget slightly. Night Glide’s processors was trying to come to grips with the thing on the berth was in fact his partner.

“Report.” He broke the silence in the chamber.

Echo turned from her screen that she was working on to swivel in front of her commanding officer. The femme lacked a voice box. It was damaged in the Exodus. However, her visor screen lit up with the medical report as requested.

Virus: Trojan. Disguised as Autobot base schematics. Activation upon log-in to Decepticon networks.

Function seems to target Decepticon Deployers to eliminate spies within the system.

Virus attacking neural net.

Symptoms: Fever, respiratory impairment, lack of response, fainting and seizure. Continuing observation.

Unrelated symptoms: Helm denting, minor lacerations do to fall. Damage stabilized. Will repair once virus is neutralized.

Working on Antivirus: 15% completion. Awaiting more tests.

Night Glide could feel his denta grind just reading Echo’s report. He hissed at the little medic.

“Speed it up.”

Echo tilted her helm. The diagnostic disappeared. Replacing it was a single, deep red optic. The Seeker glared at the video of Shockwave.

“Speeding up the process is illogical. The Minicon is the first to contract this virus. Further studies must take place to insure the safety of Decepticon spies.”

Night Glide could feel his energon boil up through his tubing. Shockwave made a habit of only referring to Skyfall as ‘Minicon’. Simply because, he didn’t she her as anything else, but a disposable waste product. Of course, Shockwave never had the pleasure of actually spending time with her. Getting to know here. Making her laugh.

The Seeker’s wings twitched.

“And risk having my communications officer die?!” Night Glide spat.

“The Convent is under Thundercracker’s command, is it not?”

“Skyfall is an important member of this crew and I am not going to stand idly by just so you can use her as a lab animal-”

“You’re attachment to the Minicon is irrational. You’re anger is also misguided. If the Autobots are planning to use this virus in a wide scale attack; having data on how it operates and how to nullify it is the best course of action. The Minicon will provide that data. Also, if you are insistent on overstepping your rank; I will pull mine.”

The optic barely moved as it addressed the medic, “Echo, continue your work. Upload all of your findings to my personal storage. I will continue my work from here.”

Shockwave ended the call. Night Glide wanted to fling the closest object across the room.

Echo’s screen flickered once again.

(ง •̀_•́)ง

The Seeker felt the slimmest smile on his face. The Convent was a ship filled with the Decepticons that Megatron didn’t want. Cast-offs of the greater Decepticon good. In a way, they all looked out for each other. Night Glide was happy for the allies he had found himself with.

Deep down, he knew that Echo was going to sped up the process as fast as she could. Without getting caught by Cybertron’s top scientist.

The medic swiveled back towards Skyfall; hooking in a cooling unit to at least stabilize her. Judging by the report Echo just gave, Skyfall had burnt through her own supply of coolant. Night Glide caught himself subconsciously running the base of his thumb along the tips of his digits upon the memory of feeling the radiation off the femme’s body. He frowned softly at this.

“Echo.”

The medic’s screen turned to face him, displaying a question mark.

“Keep me post.”

She nodded.

He paused for a moment and added, “Do not lose her.”

Echo’s screen flashed one more time.

(ง •ૅ౪•᷄)ว

***

He wasn’t a social butterfly by any account. Quite the opposite really. Unlike most of this Seeker kin, Night Glide didn’t find keeping friends much of a use. He lacked a Trine. Something that the rest of the Seekers mocked him for. However, in solitude he found himself at peace. An understanding of himself that the others never did.

Then, suddenly, Skyfall entered his life like a blazing comet.

At first he didn’t understand her. She was fussy; terrified of everything around her. The full grown Minicon clung to his plating like a panicked sparkling more often than not. She cried all the time too. Often she was huddled up in her alt. mode., ready to jet off as soon as somebot even came close to intaking near her direction. Skyfall also, at first, could barely hold the gun she was given; let alone shoot it an a reasonable target.

She was a civilian. Barely.

Night Glide couldn’t fathom why the higher command would steal her to begin with and to be completely honest, he hated her. In the beginning at least. He was civil about it; allowing her to make a fool out of herself and keeping a good arm’s length from her at all times. No need to stoop to her level when he didn’t need to be.

Skyfall was hardly the partner he was promised when they said they had found a Deployer for him. If Night Glide was honest with himself, he expected someone like Ravage. Sleek. Elegant. Knew how to handle itself.

What he had was Skyfall.

He remembered one night, before they got their transfor to the warship, he caught her singing. It was almost unhearable. Too light in voice and too heavily buried under the collective snores of 20 young Seekers. Yet, Night Glide’s audios picked up the sounds of a Vosian lullaby that he had long since buried in his memory. Along with the rest of his childhood.

“I’m sorry…” She murmured.

The little femme had chosen to stare at one tiny bolt on the floor. Skyfall lived under his berth. Probably the safest place for her not to crushed under the excited heels of Seekers. Dim maroon optics barely lit up her face in the darkness of the barracks. The other Seekers there barely notice her little voice that deep into recharge.

“...I’m sorry…”

Night Glide simply watched her from his berth. She dipped out of sight. Hiding once again in the safety of her hold. The Seeker rolled onto his back. His optics found a seam in the wall and he traced a claw through it.

“...Who taught you Vosian?” He asked quietly.

It was a moment before he got a reply, “...I did…”

“You learned it yourself?”

“I know. I’m not- wasn't allowed.” Skyfall was quick to lower herself even more, “I went to school- I was paid to- Calloway…” She paused and somehow her voice was even smaller, “I can stop…”

The dorm filled up once again with snoring; Skyfall seeming deciding for the two of them not to continue.

Night Glide frowned. He didn't like the silence now. The Seeker continued to stare at the ceiling. Vos now seemed so far away.

“Keep singing…” He asked, “You sound like home…”

Skyfall remained silent for a moment. Night Glide could hear her breathe beneath the frame of his berth. The Seeker could practically hear her swallow as she took a deep breath and picked up in the song where she had stopped.

The wilting lullaby raise up through the thick, stuffy air of the dorm. Night Glide continued to look up at the ceiling; trying to picture Vos’ towers through the shadows of his wingmates.

The proud Seeker wasn't ready to accept that he was homesick.

He still wasn't. Eons later. Though, his home wasn’t even crystalline towers anymore. It wasn’t the pale blue skies. Nor was it The Convent. Or even Cybertron, if he was honest with himself. No, home to Night Glide shifted to a small femme clinging to life in the medical bay.

When he returned to check on Echo’s progress, the femme was wrapping Skyfall up in an insulator blanket. Echo had striped Skyfall down to her protoform in what he could only assume was to keep her cool. Skyfall, herself, didn’t have much protoform to began with. Most of it encased her spark chamber. While her limbs were just basic framework and bare wires. A by product of being ‘low quality’.

“How is she?” Night Glide dared to ask.

Echo tilted her helm towards him; gathering the swaddled Skyfall in her arms.

Status: Unconscious, but stable. Last seizure reported: 2 hours ago. Overheating is still an issue, but fever as leveled.

Working on Antivirus: 87% completion. Awaiting final test results and Shockwave’s approval on formula.

Skyfall is very strong.

The Seeker let go of the intake he was holding. With a weak smile; he nodded in agreement.

“Good work, Echo…”

(๑•̀ㅂ•́)و✧

The medic carefully transformed Skyfall’s tiny form into his arms. It was only in that moment when Night Glide really realized how fragile Skyfall was. She easily could stand in the palm of his servo, but seeing her all bundled up like this only reminded Night Glide of a freshly ignited sparkling.

Echo tilted her helm once more and added to her text.

Shockwave is expected to call in 21 minutes.

Requesting: Energon break?

“Yes, of course. You’ve done more than enough. I’ll COMM. you if he calls early.”

Shockwave never calls early.

“True.” Night Glide chuckled lightly. A rarity, but he was in much better spirits now that he knew that his partner wasn’t going to be murdered by an Autobot virus. Echo was the best medic he could have ever asked for. “Go have supper.”

✲ﾟ｡.(✿╹◡╹)ﾉ☆.｡₀:*ﾟ✲ﾟ*:₀｡

Echo’s harness lowered her to the floor; transforming and pulling away as her peds swung around. They landed on the floor with a muted ‘thud’. The tires on her heels keeping her steps light. Again, Night Glide was reminded that he was a giant among grounders. Echo’s small motorcycle frame made her out to be about half his height. Not that anyone would ever notice with her strung up most of the time.

The medic gave Night Glide a thumbs up, before disappearing down the darken halls of The Convent. Night Glide felt his wings slowly sag down his back. All that tension and the automatic Seeker provado that was drilled into him since his sparking. He was exhausted. In more ways than one.

He sighed. Sitting on the edge of the medical berth. He cradled Skyfall close. He watched his partner’s small spark chamber rise and fall. Her breathing was much better than before. He was thankful for that. It pained the Seeker. Every Seeker valued the movement of air; be it on their wings or in their lungs.

Night Glide stroked the back of Skyfall’s head as it lulled to one side; nuzzling into his cool chest plates. Night Glide felt his spark swell. She was so tiny. Just a toy to most that had seen her. Yet, she was the most Cybertronian creature he had ever met; kind and compassionate. Even through this war.

And she was his. He was honored to have been paired with her.

Now, he just needed to wait until she was awake for him to tell her that.

#transformers #transformers skyfall #skyfall #night glide #echo #shockwave #i didn't have an ending for this #but really wanted to post it #tada #there's a light that never goes out #the smiths

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thefandomdirtymind · 7 years

Text

Teenage love

Marvel

Peter Quill x Reader

Warning: Spoiler about GOTG 2, Smut, language, oral sex (giving), female in the lead sexually.

* I think to make a part two for this one, but I will only do it if I know that you had like this one so, I want to reach the 100 Like ! Go !

You was in a mission in a very small and poor planet when you receive the sad news. Yondu, the outlaw, the banish, the men who had always be so nice and gentleman with you, have meet his death. He had die like a hero, saving the galaxy. A things you had never things you will hear about him, for being honest. But, you’re glad that he will be remember that way for the eternity.

For now,the only things you could do for him and his memory, is to join the funeral and by the same way, give your sympathy at Peter Quill and his crew. Of course, you knew that Peter had quit the Ravager camp for good. Becoming a official guardian of the galaxy. You had heard the story of his exploit a lot of time, in different place in the universe. Even if you had a hard time to realize that’s the man so heroic, is the same guys you had meet when you were a little teenager. And to be fair,you was a little proud of him. Just the fact that people actually call him star lord was a success in himself.

So,it’s with a knock in your stomach at the idea of this little reunion, that you program the auto pilot and get yourself ready and well dress.

You had wait the end of the ceremonial and the departure of the other team to send a request to aboard the old ship of Yondu. It’s take a few times but, you finally hear a mix of noise and voice answer your call. The really grow up and manly voice of Peter. “Hello, who are you ?”

Smiling, you reply couldn’t resist the urge to teasing him a little. “Peter Quills, if you don’t let me come in, I hack the communication of this ship and talk about that times you also shoot your own balls with a blaster”

A small silence answer you,quickly follow by the opening of the door. Once inside, you feel like if you came back home. You knew that he was there, waiting you to come out of your ship and the nervous feeling in your stomach came back stronger. “Oh grow up make a women of yourself” You say, adjusting in the same time your own ravager red leather jacket. “No need to be nervous we are adult now…”

Following your own advice, you get out by the side door, trying to not make a fool of yourself. The last thing you need right now, was to falling on your ass. You heard is voice way far before you truly could see him.

“Fuck Y/N, that’s really you ??”

Turning on you heels your eyes meet at first his chest, way more bigger and higher that you remember. Then lifting your eyes for meet his, you couldn’t believe what you see. Well shit, with his curly strawberry blonde hair, his small beard and his big white smile in his face. The man had become a pretty muscular and attractive eyes candy. Without a chance to answer at the question, he lift you of the ground and give you a bear hug. Smiling, you put your nose on the crock of his neck, smelling his skin. After all this time, his odors has become more masculine, a mix of leather and whisky. But, the smell who’s trow you back in memory lanes was there, under all this, just in the surface of is skin. The Terran smell you always associate at Peter and at your home.

Putting you on your feet, he openly study you from head to toe.

“ How have you manage to become even more beautiful !?” He said with a look who make your cheek blush a little.

“Well I guess, I can ask you the same, what happen to this slim and shy teenager who’s called himself Star Lord ?” You joke, smiling softly.

“ He grow up and become a legendary outlaw and then a legend “ He reply, never release you of his arms.

“ And a really modest man” You laugh.

“ Come with me, I will introduce you to the other.”

The meeting with the other was not that bad, after a few drink, you seems to know them like if you always be friend.

“ How did you meet ?” Gamora ask, giving a tiny bowl of candy at baby Groot.

Peter cross your gaze, drinking a slip of his glass.

“ We were teenagers, like sixteen or seventeen. She teach me a lot of things.”

“ I had seventeen, and Yondu was already tired of always running into Peters used tissues.” You joke. “ My chief didn’t care to being seen with the banish gang so one day they meet in a tavern and well… They simply push us in this crappy hotel room for like two days. At first we talk, then I teach him how to dance.”

“ And she’s end up falling for my charm, so she finish by learn how good in bed I am. “ He grind, looking to remember that night.

“ You kidding, you was so shy at first that you shaking just at touching my breast !” You laugh, winking at him in apologize for the embarrassing story.” But when Yondu had free us that night you had reach the grade of great fucker. “

“ That’s a lot of years ago you know, now i’m a true God” He smile.

“ Eww!” Rocket shout clearly gross out by how the discussion had turn.

“ Okay, I think it’s late now “ Gamora said, removing his hand of the invisible ear of the baby tree” I will put Groot in his bed, good night Y/N”

Slowly, one by one, the left the cockpit, wishing you a good night. Letting you alone with Peter.

“ I should leave it’s late” You finish to say, putting your glass on the table.

“ Yeah, but…you…you don’t need to, if you want to stay, we have a lot of room here. You can even be in the same room as me if you didn’t want to be alone.”

You smile a little, amuse of how much he change but didn’t in the same time.

“ I know where you doing here mister Quill” You say, getting up of your chair, approaching of his.

“ Well, who’s can blame me. You’re gorgeous and we have this past…” He grin, putting his hands on your waist, looking at you with lust in is eyes.

“ Do you think we will reach this room in time ? ” You ask, putting your lips on his neck.

“ I truly don’t care” He reply, grabbing your ass with his hands.

“ My entire ship is not that far and we could be really loud” You propose closing your eyes with anticipation.

“ Why are we not already there then” Peter reply laughing, kissing you.

Running to the ship, you laugh and stole kiss like if you were teenagers again. Entering you small bedroom, you help Peter to opening the manie zipper of your outfit, struggling to remove his.

“ Do you remember how to open a bra” You joke, helping Peter to pass his t-shirt above his head.” Hot damn…where do you take these abs they look edible”

“ I work them myself, and don’t worry baby, soon you will forget that you even wear one and your own name too” He reply, his voice full of promise, putting aside his now useless boxer.

Biting your lips, you look a him head to toe, enjoying the beautiful view. Kissing his chest, you goes down starting to lick and kiss the more awesome abs ,event leaving him a hickeys before pushing him to the bed. Kneeling gracefully between his leg, you wink at him, happy to see his expression on his face again.

Peter growl when you tongue touch the sensitive skin on his already hard, penis . Leaving a trail of kiss, you take him in your mouth, looking his face passing by a full range of emotion when you start to play with the rythme and the pressure of the sucking.

“ Oh Fuuck that’s good !” The man said,burring his finger into your hair.

But, after a few moment he give you the signal to stop before it was to late. Getting up on the bed,you crawl on him, smiling when he sit, meeting your lips in a kiss who make your toes curl. Removing your bra with one hand, his mouth goes on your tits that he take a true pleasure to torture of sweet supplice. Moaning, you arc your back when you feel his thumb push on your clit doing small circle.

“ Peter…” You said on a sigh, you body tense with anticipation. “ Please”

Raising your pelvis, he fist into you, taking immediately the good rythme to make you climax. Even after all this years, the little bastard didn’t forget about how you like to be fuck. He come and go become more and more quick, making your sensitive tits scrub against his chest. Soon, your scream and his growl was resonating in the entire ship.

The hands of Peter was on your ass, helping you to moving faster. Of your mouth, a litanie of “ Fuck”, showing that you will almost reach your third orgasm of the night. But, this time, you felt it, It’s a really tornado of an orgasm who will take you.

“ Come for me again baby” He whispered in your ear, his voice low by his own orgasm coming.

It didn’t take you long, making you clench against him, feeling all you body releasing the pressure and feeling numb. He came a few minute later, pining you to the mattress, letting you heard the sexiest growl you heard of your life.

Stretch out in the bed, you trying to regain your normal breath.

“ Yeah, you had upgrade a little” You tease, a marvelous smile on you lips.

“ Yeah, a little, say that to that three orgasm I just gave you “ He said, seeing clear in your little tease.

“ Almost four “ You confess, passing a arms around his waist. “ Okay, Okay you win Star Lord”

Laughing, he kiss your hair.

“ Can you stay a little longer with us…I like to see you around” The man said, making you feel warm inside.

“ That’s look like a good idea…Peter Quill” You answered, closing your eyes when the sleep taking you slowly.

@anavengerstale

#marvel #marvel imagine #guardians of the galaxy #peter quill x reader #peter quill #chris pratt #yondu #groot #gamora #smut #peter quill smut

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pouchesandwlkmans · 6 years

Text

Confessions

Characters: Yondu, Reader

Pairing(s): Yondu x Reader

Rating: M

Word Count: 1535

Warnings: Mentions of abuse, language, implied sexual assault, smut

A/N: I whipped this up based off a bunch of little head canons. Do enjoy!

The battle was over. You had gotten free of the rogue Kree warrior, though the warrior had not fared as well. You could still feel the cold blade against your skin, but it was nothing compared to the scene that kept playing in your head.

Yondu had dropped to his knees in surrender. The crew of the Eclector had already won, but the warrior had a bargaining chip against the captain. And that leverage was you. You, a simple Terran, the one Yondu would do anything to protect. You, the person he was surrendering to keep alive.

“This one will make a nice slave, Centaurian,” the Kree had snarled, tightening his grip on your arm. But instead of the fear the alien had expected, Yondu displayed a very different emotion.

He flew into a blind, uncontrollable rage.

You saw a flash of blue, and the hand on your arm had disappeared. When you turned, though, you saw a side of the captain you never thought existed. A side he had tried so hard to keep hidden from you.

He was beating the Kree’s face in, a primal sound clawing it’s way from his throat. The body beneath him was lifeless within minutes, but he couldn’t bring himself to stop. His fin was glowing brighter than ever, and when he finally stopped, you see his blood mixing with the purple blood of the dead.

Now, in the comfort of your shared room, there were so many questions. And you were almost too afraid to ask, but you had to. You needed answers, and despite his possible reactions, he needed to let it out.

“Yondu,” You began softly, but he cut you off.

“I didn’ want ya to see that,” he muttered. “That side o’ me. Didn’ want ya to see the monster beneath.” You shook your head.

“You’re no monster,” you argued gently. “Asshole at times, yeah, but you’re no monster.” He snorted and looked away.

“Didn’ like what he said.”

“Why, though? You would have found me, saved me. I know you would have.” He got up and started pacing, his coat forgotten on the bed.

“Long story.”

“We have time,” you insisted.

“Ya won’ like what ya hear.”

“Yondu, just tell me. What could be so bad about-“

“Because I was one,” he finally snarled, standing toe to toe with you. And when you looked in his eyes, you could see everything.

The pain he was trying so hard to hide.

The anger, an anger you understood, at the barbaric practice.

The terror, which shocked you most. He was the strongest man you knew. Yet the idea of you being a slave to the Kree scared him. Why, though? What was he still not telling you?

He huffed and looked away, “My no good parents sold me to the Kree. I was just a kid. An’ they didn’ want nothing to do with me. Jus’ sold me and didn’ care.”

You could tell he wanted to still be angry, but he couldn’t. He was opening up, and it hurt. You knew it did. But with nothing and no one to rage at, he was left with no choice but to tell you. You reached for his hand, squeezing it briefly before he began pacing again.

“I could do th’ work. Wasn’t that hard. Got a few licks from the ones that like to hurt us for the fuck o’ it. But once they decided I was old enough, the worst part came. An’ that’s the part that made me hate them.”

You bit your lip, silently encouraging him to continue. He was doing so good. Better than most. You were worried, at any moment, that he’d clam up and undo the progress he’d made in such short time.

He sighed and sat on the bed, avoiding your gaze.

“I was ‘bout sixteen or so in Terran years. An’ they brought me into this room. I’d never been in it, so I didn’ know what to expect. But that room quickly became where most of my scars were earned.”

You carefully sat next to him and took his hand, and he closed his eyes tightly.

“They had a girl in there. Probably a couple years younger than me. I could see she was scared, but couldn’t get away. Bastards had her tied down. Wanted me to...”

You squeezed his hand, “You don’t have to say it. You’ve said more than enough.” He shook his head.

“I couldn’. I couldn’ do it. They bout beat me to death, but I wouldn’ give ‘em what they wanted. Made me sick thinkin’ bout it. Still does. An’ when I finally escaped, I promised m’self I’d never touch a woman, flesh or metal, without ‘er permission.”

You smiled, “That’s more than most Terran men even bother with. You are an amazing man, Yondu.” He shook his head.

“No, I ain’t. Cause I can’t give ya what ya deserve. I can’t give ya kids or a family cause I’m too damn scared. An’ it’s fucking stupid and I hate it.”

You frowned. Now you were reaching something that threw you for a loop. He huffed and met your eyes.

“I want kids. A family. More than anything in the galaxy, I want it. But all I can see is someone takin’ our kids an’ forcin’ ‘em into the life that damn near killed me, an’ I freeze up. I’d never forgive m’self if that happened. Seein’ him holdin’ that knife to ya throat, hearin’ him talk bout you like that... I lost it. I can’t lose ya to them.”

You squeezed his hand again, “Yondu, you won’t. I know you. You won’t let that happen. And I know you won’t because of everything you just told me. You’re not weak and you’re not a monster. You are so amazing, and I’m lucky as hell to know you.”

He rested his forehead against yours, “Don’ say that-“

“Any other man wouldn’t have hesitated, at that age, to hurt her. You didn’t. And that, my love, makes you so much more than your past. Don’t let it hold you back. Look at you now, Yondu. You’re the captain on the Eclector. You’re the best Ravager in the galaxy. You’ve risen above your past so much. And I love you with everything I am.”

He quickly pulled you into his lap, burying his face into your neck. And you let him. He had finally opened up to you, and you knew he needed this. Just this moment to hold you and remind himself that you’re safe. You soothingly rubbed his shoulders through his shirt, just feeling him breath.

“The hell did I do to deserve an angel like you? Yer too good fer me, (Y/N).” You smiled and kissed his fin, though you knew he couldn’t feel it.

“You refused to harm a girl you didn’t know. You stood for what was right, even if it meant getting hurt. You stole a boy and raised him as your own because his father was a maniac. I find myself wondering what I did to deserve to even know you.”

He gently kissed your neck, his arms tightening around you. You could feel, in his touch, how much he loved you. How much he needed you. And you knew you needed him too.

“Easy. You looked at me and begged for help. And I was yours from day one.”

You tilted your head as he began sucking on your neck, his hands sliding to your hips. His fingers toyed with your shirt before he pulled back slightly.

“May I?”

Two words. Two simple words with so much weight to them. You knew you could say no and he’d stop. Cause that was the kind of man he was. That was one of many things you loved about him. He was only an ass on the surface. Deep down, he was five times the man many thought him to be. And here he was, asking you permission to touch you.

“Of course.”

His hands moved quickly, pulling your shirt over your head. He flung it aside, his crimson eyes briefly taking in the sight of your chest before sucking a nipple into his mouth. You moaned and arched into him.

“Fuck, daddy,” you breathed, making him groan against your skin.

“Say it ‘gain, sounds good comin’ off yer lips,” he ordered, and you quickly obeyed.

“Feels so good, Daddy,” You whined, grinding down onto his clothed crotch. You could feel the ridge of his cock through the leathers, and could feel the growl in his chest.

“Need ya under me. Now.” You whimpered, pulling away to tug the rest of your clothes off. You were bare to him, and he loved the sight. He stood and moved closer, his gaze making your nerves come alive.

“So damn purty,” he purred. “Why don’t cha get on that bed fer daddy?”

You scrambled onto the bed, turning onto your back in time to see him tug his shirt off. Only he could launch you into such a needy desire for him. Only he could create such heat in your core.

And only he could satisfy your desire.

#Yondu Udonta #yondu x reader #yondu fanfic #gotg fanfiction #gotg fic

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shirtlesssammy · 6 years

Text

3x02: The Kids Are Alright

Then:

Dean’s going to hell, guys!

Now:

In Cicero, Indiana, a divorced suburban mom anxiously waits the return of her daughter. It’s the girl’s night to spend with her dad, but upon her return she pleads with her mom to never go back. It’s scary and there are monsters there. Meanwhile, the dad is busy working in his shop --making a wooden toy that’s about 5 years too late if it’s for his daughter that hates him. It’s late so he calls it a night, but as he walks away, the table saw spins to life.

He switches it off and walks away again --only for it to turn on again. As he goes to investigate again, something attacks him from behind, pushing him onto the blade. Blood gushes everywhere! And the camera pans to the little wooden horse, rocking slowly back and forth.

Meanwhile, Sam is 1000% unable to play it cool when talking to Bobby about Dean’s demon deal, flubbing about ordering pizza at a diner. Good save, Sammy! Dean’s caught a case and a serious desire to relive the bendiest weekend of his life. He’s in YOLO mode and wants to see Lisa Braeden again. Dean’s in high spirits as he drops Sam off at the motel, telling him, “Don’t wait up for me.”

Dean pulls into a new suburban neighborhood, and locates Lisa’s house. She’s a bit surprised to see him. It’s been almost 9 years since that weekend after all. “Dean Winchester. Wow.” Haha, so say we all. She’s a bit busy at the moment. She’s throwing a birthday party for her son, Ben, who’s turning 8. He also has close cropped spiky hair, loves hard rock, cars, and food. Dean looks on with consternation while Lisa greets her friend, the woman from the cold open. Dean mingles with the locals.

And some quality time with his mini-me.

Dean does some quick math in his head (I LOVE when Dean visibly counts to himself. It’s something so endearing and consistent about Dean over the years.)

Lisa is consoling her friend about her ex-husband’s untimely demise. Her friend confesses that she feels there’s something wrong with Katie, her daughter. In fact, she’s not sure it’s actually her daughter. She goes to collect Katie to leave the party.

Dean walks in and ever so casually asks Lisa if Ben is his. (Natasha: dies laughing) Lisa dismisses his concerns, but it’s clear Dean’s still a little nervous. But even under possible parental distress, Dean’s able to work the case and ask Lisa about the death of her friend’s ex. Lisa admits to a lot of bad things in the neighborhood.

Sam, meanwhile, gets a visit from Ruby. Cue dramatic zoom. Sam wants to know more about her knife that can kill demons (those innocent days! I don’t even think he knows she’s a demon here!) Ruby wants to talk about Sam’s ESP -- and his mom’s friends (what?? My mind is fuzzy about this.) As she’s leaving, she tells Sam there’s a case in this town.

Two seconds later, Dean calls and tells Sam there’s a case in this town --four other people have died in Lisa’s neighborhood.

Meanwhile, Lisa’s friend wakes from a nap (after falling asleep reading The Historian. Lol, I completely understand Friend of Lisa, but Show, a book about bloodsuckers is a little too on the nose.) Her daughter is watching her like a little creepoid.

The girl is creepy and clingy and has some seriously messed up skin when the mom sees her reflection in the mirror.

Sam investigates the other homes where people died.

I submit this photograph for Insurance purposes only:

As the woman points out where her husband fell and died, Sam notices blood on the windowsill, and a blank staring little girl looking out the window --and a sucker-like hickey on the back of the mom’s neck.

Friend of Lisa’s is rubbing her own neck when she’s making Katie her lunch. She tells her daughter to eat and then locks herself in the bathroom to inspect her own sucker hickey. Eww. There’s a pounding on the door. She wants in. She continues to rattle the door while Friend of Lisa’s grows increasingly worried. The rattling stops when the doorbell rings. She rushes downstairs to find Katie answering the door to the neighborhood sunshine representative, bearing a basket of goodies. The woman inquires how they’re doing, and then about if they’re planning on keeping the house. Cold, lady. Friend of Lisa’s slams the door in her face, only to find Katie right there demanding ice cream.

Out and about, Dean sees a sad Ben, sitting alone. He joins Ben on the bench and asks if there’s something wrong. Ben’s as chatty as his not-father when it comes to emotions. Some kid borrowed Ben’s game and now he won’t give it back. Ben refuses to let Dean meddle. Dean’s proud of the little guy for wanting to fight his own fights. (I hold back my commentary about toxic masculinity being passed down to the next generation. My, how far we’ve come, Dean Let-It-Go Winchester.)

Ben heads up to the group of bullies and calls out the kid who stole his game. Ben knees him in the balls and grabs his game while Dean grins from the sidelines. Lisa storms up and berates Ben for kicking another kid. Dean gets the Mom Look of Death ™.

Lisa (RIGHTLY SO) reminds Dean that they spent a single night together years ago and it is hella creepy for Dean to be hanging out with her son right now. Like, I KNOW RIGHT? (Team Lisa) Lisa and Ben head out, only for Ben to run back to Dean and give him a big thank you hug. It’s super adorable.

And then...the adorableness dies swiftly as creepy children in the playground turn in unison to stare at Dean.

And back with Friend of Lisa, her daughter is aggressively telling her that she loves her while mom, weeping, buckles her into the car. Mom adjusts the rearview and catches a glimpse of...well…

Drive, momma, drive! The little girl is still JONESING for ice cream so mom drives them to a nice refreshing...boat ramp. She puts the car in neutral, releases the parking brake, and the car and child slide slowly into the water. (I find this scene particularly horrifying because of its layer of real life parallels so GOOD JOB writers for making me feel awful.)

Mom gets home, emotionally ravaged, only to find a water soaked little girl sitting at her table. “Hi mummy,” the girl says. “Can I have that ice cream now?” Fuuuuuuuck.

Sam, meanwhile, is diligently doing research when Dean bursts into the hotel room. (Side note: there’s been so little Sam in this episode that I was actually surprised to see him again. In my defense, I’m tired. In my defense, I’m also distracted by creepy kids.) Sam’s function is clearly to dump a ton of lore on us. We learn that changelings aren’t just babies. They can be kids - and there’s one at every house that’s had a death. They climb in through the windows and steal the real children, then feed on the back of the mothers’ necks for a few weeks. (Query: it’s heavily implied that changelings only feed on women. Does this mean that the children of gay male couples are safe? Duly noted, man.)

Dean preps the weaponry. Just...fire. Lots of fire.

Sam thinks the kids might still be alive somewhere underground. Dean low key flips out about the idea of any of the kids getting snatched and heads straight to Lisa. When Lisa opens the door she looks harried, Dean looks dorky. Awww they’re so cute. (Man, I love Dean and Lisa almost as much as I love Dean and Cas. It doesn’t hurt that Lisa’s smile is like the frickin’ sun.)(Boris: Vigorously nods in agreement.) Dean hands Lisa a credit card and tells them to go on vacation together. Guys, it’s a TOTALLY NORMAL gift for a 9-years-later hookup to give. She asks Dean about the hinky name on the card but then Ben shows up. “Make him go away, Mommy,” says a decidedly chillier Ben. Lisa takes the hint (while Dean’s hunter hackles rise) and the door gets slammed between them.

Awwww shiiiiit, a monster’s got Ben!

Dean stalks around the house, looking for clues. (Again, in the hunting context we’re like okay COOL good job and in the real world context we’d be going SHIT LISA CALL 911 he’s outside of your house!!!) Dean finds the telltale blood on the sill. Ben’s done got snatched. Dean races to the car. It’s not blood on the sill, he tells Sam. It’s….

“Red dirt,” Sam concludes as we scene jump to one of the buildings under construction. (SIDE NOTE dudes I used to live near Sedona AZ the capitol of red dirt and when dried it did not look like blood. What I’m saying is, someone get some decontamination crews to this neighborhood. It’s a biohazard zone. No wonder property’s so cheap.)

They investigate the house. Dean finds the basement, hears a noise, and heads on down. He finds trapped kids (including Ben) and tells him that he’ll be free soon. Meanwhile, Sam (Sam is here too!) gets confronted by the nosy realtor with the muffin baskets. Downstairs, Dean discovers the caged realtor in the basement. Wherps. Sam’s smart, though, so instead of getting talked into buying a house he whips out his trusty business card.

Fake Ben gets all up in Lisa’s grill, asking for food, so Lisa offers him pizza. Fake Ben agrees and Lisa notices his reflection in her shiny coffee table. Yeesh.

Lisa may be having a shit time, but Dean’s enjoying his father(????) & son bonding moment as they work together to free and comfort the other children. Dean busts a hole through the window and gets everyone out. Just then momma changeling appears. Dun dun DUN.

Lisa confronts fake Ben. “I love you, mommy,” he says in response. Lisa grabs her keys and gets the fuck out of town, but there are kids in her lawn ready to go all Children of the Corn on her. She heads back inside.

Momma changeling gives a good fight, beating the shit out of Dean and Sam. All the while, Ben calmly gets all the kids out. Sam blasts the changeling mom with fire and the fire cascades to all the changeling children. They erupt into flame and ash, including the ones tormenting Lisa and Friend of Lisa.

Lisa races out as the sun rises and greets Ben joyfully. They head inside, Lisa sets Ben up with food and headphones, and then Dean fills her in on his line of work.

Dean asks one more time about Ben’s parentage and Lisa sets him straight (OR DOES SHE). She took a blood test...it was a dude she met in a bar. “I swear you look disappointed,” she says as Dean looks low key devastated.

“Some stuff happened to me recently, and, uh. Anyway, a guy in my situation. You start to think, you know. I'm gonna be gone one day, and what am I leaving behind besides a car?”

Dean. You’re breaking my fucking heart. Lisa asks him to stay for a while and he gets the fuck out instead because he doesn’t think he deserves good things. (weeps some more)

For Science:

Basically if they’re both in the same frame I am DEAD. They’re tooooo pretttyyyyy.

I uncurl from my ball of sorrow to recap the Sam is Here Too ™ portion of the episode. He’s checking up on his mom’s friends. They’re all dead. He meets Ruby and she tells him they’re dead because of the Yellow Eyed Demon. Sam demands to know who she really is and she goes all black eyed on him. Ruby insists that she’s on his side. “It’s all about you,” she tells him. She’s just trying to figure out how all the puzzle pieces fit together. And if he plays ball, she’ll help him save Dean.

These Quotes Want Some Ice Cream:

O-kay, Weirdy Mcweirderton

Gumby girl. Does that make me Pokey?

I’m interested in you because you’re tall.

Something’s wrong with the kids in this town.

We'll just bust in, drag the kids out, torch them on the front lawn. That'll play great with the neighbors.

Want to read more? Check out our Recap Archive!

#spnrecap #spnrewatch #spn 3x02 #the kids are alright #dean winchester #sam winchester #lisa braeden #ben braeden #supernatural season 3

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thebustedandtheblue · 6 years

Text

The Busted Ch 4: Over and Over and Over

Chapter 1| Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

Big warning for language and gore. Posts are going to be slow going since I’m basically writing this as I go. Thanks for sticking by and reading.

Yondu awoke with a start, before his alarm and before anyone else in the barrack. Years of being with one eye open at night made him a light sleeper, and quick to rise lest he wanted a boot to the ribs. He dropped from his bunk and checked on his new and unwanted ward. Still asleep. He should haul her bony green hide out of her bunk for the mawkish gesture she tried last night. He didn’t need someone to hold his hand like a child if he had a bad dream. All she managed to do was wake him, and the only thing keeping him from throttling her in the dead of night was the thought of what a Stakar would do if he had. Some comfort that was.

The alarm went off, and the groans of men followed. N’Zar was still in her bunk after all the other men had risen, cocooned into the thin blankets.

“Get up.” A drawling voice said to her.

“Fighmormits…” She slurred, pulling the blankets closer to her.

Something heavy grabbed at her shoulder and shook her. She batted at the hand and rolled onto her belly.

The heavy thing and the drawl tried a final time and shake her back.

“Get up, girl.” The drawl said with an aggressive gravel.

N’Zar finally conceded and her head emerged from the nest of sheets. A bleary mass of blue stood in front of her. She blinked and the mass came into focus as...that dickhead centaurian from last night. It wasn’t a dream. She was still on the Starhawk.

Hey la“Tenmrmints” She said as her face sunk back into the pillow.

Yondu had had enough of this. He grabbed the sheets and yanked hard. They were stripped off the mattress and tossed on the floor along with his charge. N’zar hit the floor hard on her back. She let out a cry of pain, and a few explicatives.

“Get up.” he said again with far more force.

She got up. “Yes, Udonta.” She looked up at him. He was already dressed and ready for the day. He was holding a bundle of clothes which he unceremoniously dropped on the pile of her and blankets.

“Here.” he said. “They’re clean.”

“Can’t I get a shower first?”

“Showers are for those who earn ‘em. Now put those on.” She held up the shirt. It was far too big for her, nearly to her knees, adorned with grease stains and an ancient faded graphic, something about what happens on Sakaar, and it was a washed out, grimy pink.

She hated pink.

She sighed and pulled on the dusty rose shirt, and the mauve leggings that accompanied it. It went down past her waist and halfway to her knees. The collar was bigger than her head, and N’Zar was left with the choice of exposing one shoulder, or pulling the shirt, more of a tunic really, down her front and exposing a provocative amount of her chest. She did what she could to alter her form to fit her clothes, but to no avail. She tied a knot in the back, forcing the collar up to her neck and exposing her back down past her shoulder blades. She still looked like she was wearing a sack.

“What no boots?” She asked.

“You get boots when we can find something that fits you. Yer a good head shorter than everyone else here.” Her keeper said.

“Can I at least get a belt?” She complained.

Yondu went to his locker, and pulled out a short strip of leather, and shoved it into her arms. The belt helped. But she still felt like she was wearing a dress. A pink dress. Once she was fully clothed the two headed for the mess hall.

This was humiliating. When Yondu had joined the Ravagers he was hoping for freedom, adventure, maybe getting rich stealing things. Not babysitting a shitty little shapeshifter stowaway. The jabs by the crew wasn’t helping much either. Word had already gotten around he ship of his punishment and new charge. Everyone thought it was a fantastic joke that the hardened warrior had been duped by the little Skrull woman toddling along behind him.

“Hey look! Chef Yondu and his little girlfriend.”

“Don’t let her get to close or she’ll tase you in the junk again!”

“A scullery maid and a Skrullery maid.” Another said, of which only half the crew understood the joke, those that did groaned at the pun.

Those that didn’t mock or laugh shot N’Zar dirty looks and scowls. No one trusted her, both for what she did and because of what she was. Few in the galaxy sympathized with Skrull, and many of them had good reason to despise her. She kept her head down, avoided eye contact until the two walked into the galley.

The ship had no formal cook. They had an automated food replicator run by the ship’s computer Mainframe. They tried their best to accommodate the plethora of people that populated the crew, only to end with the same brownish chunks and gravybroth that N’Zar had recognized as the same food she had the previous night. It could use a bit of salt.

The two worked in silence, taking plates as they came. As she took the crew’s dishes from them N’Zar noticed was that she was nearly the only woman on board. Other than the arcturan woman sitting next to the captain, everyone else was a man, or at least as far as she could suss out everyone identified as male. This might be a problem, she thought.

“So how long have you been working with these guys?” N’Zar asked, making a desperate attempt at breaking the monotony of washing dishes.

Yondu grunted and continued scrubbing at a caked on patch of food in a discarded pot.

“Long enough.” He said.

“Which is…?”

He turned to her. “Long enough.”

The last of the crew’s dishes came, and the majority left in clumps. The rest trickled out until only the two in the galley were left. With their tasks finished, they ate in silence. They observed each other in what they each believed was discretion. Yondu kept one hand on his bowl of food, while N’Zar was constantly scanning the room. Yondu also noticed the little marks on her neck and arms. Dark and puckered circles. He had seen worse, but burns were burns. He surmised that she had more elsewhere.

“So um...those little tchotchkes.In your bunk. Are they for...something?” She asked, trying once again to break the awkward silence between them.

“I collect ‘em.” He says. Once again he goes back to silent eating.

“Oh? Where’d you get them?”

“All over. I’m going to put them on my dash when I get my own ship.”

“That’s...kinda neat. You got a favorite?”

Yondu thought for a moment. “There’s one that’s got three eyes and looks like a bird.”

Three eyed bird sounded familiar. N’Zar knew she had seen something like that before.

“That’s some Kree thing right? It’s some mascot thing?”

Yondu gave a bit of a smirk. “Yeah it is. Stole it from this asshole guard. I’ve had it longer than I’ve been here.”

N’Zar perked up. Finally after a few hours of trying she had him on something.

“Yeah? Where were you before?”

Yondu lapsed back into brooding silence. “Somewhere else” is his only response.

Kree guard, the scars, the cagey demeanor around her, although that might have more to do with the other night, but still. Pieces were coming together in N’Zar’s mind.

“Were you a-“ her last question was cut off by the squeak of Yondu’s chair as he stood up.

Second shift started. Lunch was the same thing as breakfast. Same slop and the same faces glaring at her. N’Zar was scrubbing the plates and Yondu was drying. Neither were paying attention too much to the other. Not until N’Zar let out a loud curse and fell back from the receiving counter sending ceramic plates to the floor in white shards. Yondu snapped his head up to see what had shaken the girl. Laying on the counter was a dead orloni. It had been disemboweled and strewn across a dish.

“Aw hell!” He said, seeing the bloody mess. He looked down at his ward, shook by the gruesome sight.

“Get up you dumbass.” He snapped. N’Zar flinched, and stood up. She hated orloni, and seeing one with it’s guts out made things doubly worse.

“Hey who’s the stupid fuck who did this!?” Yondu yelled out into the mess.

Everyone kept their head down. The hall stayed silent other than the sounds of a hundred men chewing and slurping. Yondu picked up the carcass, stomping out of the galley and into the hall with N’Zar abreast to him, pulling at him to come back into the galley.

“Udonta don’t” She protested, but he shoved her off.

“Hope y’all like fresh meat!” He shouted, and chucked the carcass out into the crew with blood arching over some of their heads. The dead space rat landed squarely in someone’s lunch, gravy and gore splattering several at the table. One of them stood up. A kylorian, with brown and red on his face. He stood at height with Yondu but he had a good fifty pounds of muscle on him. He walked toward him, the broader man stood nose to nose, the two staring each other down. N’Zar was still pulling at him to come back to his duties.

“You should listen to the skrull whore and go back to your job, Yond-UGH” The kylorian was cut off when a blue fist connected with his nose. The pink man held his face while threads of blood oozed between his fingers. Yondu pinned him to the floor and proceeded to pound the man’s face into the filthy linoleum.

“Udonta stop!” N’Zar screamed, trying to pry her chaperone off his punching bag. Yondu shoved her back into the wall.

“YONDU.” A voice bellowed out into the mess hall. Yondu froze and all eyes went to the entrance. A monolith of a jovian stood, his bald head barely grazing the top of the threshold. He strode towards the scuffle and removed him bodily from the man he had been pummeling. He held Yondu at the back of his neck, all the while he writhed and swiped at the air like a feral cat, a stream of explicatives spewed from his mouth.

“Put me down, Charlie! I’m gonna put this puke in the ground!”

“Both of you outside. Now.” Charlie-27 pointed at the Kylorian with the broken nose. “Go to the infirmary, then go see Stakar. THE REST OF YOU GET BACK TO EATING.”

Out in the hall, Charlie drops Yondu gingerly to the floor. N’Zar stands next to him, but not too closely.

“What happened?”

“Some jackass put a dead orloni on a plate. Scared the shit out of the girl.” “And that’s how you got into a fight?”

Yondu averted his gaze “No not exactly I uh…threw it into the hall.”

“Really.” Charlie-27 stated. It wasn’t a question. He knew the answer was true, but he had to confirm it with the girl. “Is that what happened?”

N’Zar looked at Charlie, at Yondu, and back at Charlie. She opened and closed her mouth. “He...he did. But that guy called me a whore..”

“I don’t care what he called you I had to come in and end it, dead orloni or not. I ain’t going to tell Stakar about this but I don’t want to hear about another fight. And you Miss N’Zenne, fight for yourself. Don’t let Yondu take the punches for you.”

Charlie 27 walked into the mess hall, muttering something about how he was tired of this shit.

N’Zar looked at Yondu. His face had gone back to a blank mask he had worn all morning. “Sorry.” She said.

He let out a breath. “You wanted a shower? Go get it while there’s still hot water.” He said.

Shower....

It felt like years since she had been able to bathe. Rivulets of warm water streamed down her back, the grime of Knowhere sloughed off never to be seen again. She was alone in the communal shower, save for her chaperone, whom hid behind the tiled wall. She bet he wanted to see her. Wanted to confirm if any of the rumors about Skrull were true. What she had between her legs, if she had nipples, if the folds in her jaw went beyond her neck. She had heard them all. And yet he abstained. Maybe he was disgusted by her, it was within his rights. If he was a slave to the Kree than they would have convinced him that she was an abomination or worse. Or maybe he was just not interested in her. But if she truly was the only available woman on board, and by how he seemed so eager on Knowhere, that did not necessarily seem to be the case. And why did he punch that man when he called her a whore?

She scoured her skin with soap, deepening the peridot tones to expunge the interstellar grime the best she could. She did not care about whether or not Yondu wanted her or not. Her only concern at the moment was the fleeting warmth of the shower and the gray filth-water circling the drain between her feet. A heavy succession of thumps on the far wall meant that her alone time was over.

A blue hand held out a towel for her. She was glad he was polite. Or a prude. Maybe both. She took it and dried herself off.

“Thank you” she said as she turned the corner to look at her custodian.

“Whatever.”

“No really. Thanks. For defending me. You didn’t need to do that.”

He shrugged. “Let’s get back to the mess hall. Dinner’s gonna start soon.”

At dinner there were no incidents. No dead orloni, and no fights. But she’d be damned if she didn’t feel on edge the whole shift. None of the crew could look at her, which in a strange way was even worse than before.

After dinner she returned to the barracks. Sitting in front of her bunk was a pair of boots. Not new, but in better condition than what she had on her feet. They did not quite fit, but they were close enough.

“Hope those make do.” A voice said behind her. She turned to see a tall man, with dark dreadlocked hair. There were long scars and blue tattoos across his face. “Someone found them way in the back of storage.”

“Thank you. Um…”

“Tullk Ul-Zyn. And don’t thank me, someone else found them.”

She looked down at her new boots. She’d take whatever shred of kindness she could get, even if it were anonymous.

#Guardians of the Galaxy #yondu #yondu udonta #ravagers

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ingloriousblasters · 6 years

Text

Old Habits (Yondu x Reader)

Here is my entry for @rookerstash song challenge. I was overly ambitious and wanted to write 2 fics, but don’t think I’ll get the other one done by the deadline.... because I haven’t started it lol. But I still plan on writing and posting it..... sometime in the future!

I tried to do a songfic, never done one before, so this is what came out. The story is kind of influenced by some of the lyrics to The 1975′s “Somebody Else”

I just really like the song, and can picture it being played somewhere on Contraxia.

Warnings: language, brief mention of smut, timeline takes place a little before and a little after the first Guardians movie.

So I heard you found somebody else

And at first I thought it was a lie

I took all my things that make sounds

The rest I can do without

Staring at the tiny enclosure that had been your room for the last four years, you took a deep breath and sighed. Admittingly a bit of a slob, you picked up all the trash from the floor, organized the odds and ends on the desk in the corner, made the small bed on the side wall, and packed the few clothes you had into a bag. Standing at the door, your eyes scanned the metal room for anything you might have forgotten when they landed on a little plastic dog. Your eyes fell to the ground as you thought about the last couple of months. You tried to look past everything, but it had become too much for you. Shaking your head of the bad thoughts, you reached your hand over to the desk and grabbed the rectangular music player Peter had copied all of his music on for you. Placing it in your jacket pocket, you snuck off the Eclector in the middle of the night and hitched a ride off of the planet you were currently docked on.

______________

The data pad in one of Yondu’s many pockets started to vibrate just as the two of you finally made it to your bed. Having had a little too much to drink at dinner, Yondu didn't have the patience to walk all the way back to his chambers, settling for your small room instead. Word had spread on the Eclector that you two were a thing, and having been seeing each other a little over a year, Yondu had finally stopped trying to put an end to the rumors. You were his, and he didn’t care what the other Ravagers had to say about it now.

“You gonna get that?” you asked as the Centaurian continued kissing down your neck.

“Mm-mm,” Yondu mumbled into your neck. “I’m off duty.” He smirked as he resumed his current job at hand. A few seconds later the data pad stopped. As you began to relax and enjoy the sweet torture of your blue lover, the vibrations started again. You let out a sigh, and Yondu grunted before removing himself from you and grabbing the device from his pocket.

“Hmm” his voice sounded after a couple of minutes, still staring at the device.

“What?” you asked, propping yourself up on your elbows.

“That Xandarian socialite, Violetta Oro?” he said looking up at you. “Apparently someone broke into her home and stole some of her jewelry.”

“So?”

“So, them jewels are worth thousands of units. She wants to hire us to find ‘em before they get sold on the market.” Yondu’s red eyes watched you as you thought things over.

“How much is she offering?” you finally asked. Yondu broke into a grin, his crooked teeth glinting even in the dim light of your room. He leaned forward and whispered in your ear how much the woman was offering to pay. Your mouth fell open at the obscene amount of money.

“Whatchu think, baby?” Yondu asked after a moment. Unable to form words, you just repeatedly nodded your head.

“Good.” Yondu smiled, setting the data pad down. He removed his duster jacket and boots, and leaned over you as you settled back into your bed.

The job went off without a hitch, and as promised, the Ravagers were handsomely rewarded. To celebrate, Yondu docked on Contraxia for the night, allowing his crew to revel after their hard work. It also meant you two had the whole ship to yourselves for the evening. Your naked bodies intertwined underneath the fur covers of Yondu’s bed, your head laid on his chest while Yondu had closed his eyes to rest briefly. You smiled to yourself, enjoying the silence on the ship and finally having some alone time with the Captain. Your bliss was interrupted by a sequence of repeating vibrations. Frustrated at the disruption, Yondu muttered under his breath before opening his eyes and leaning over to grab the pad.

“Shit!” He remarked.

“What?” You asked, feigning interest as you laid your head back down on his sturdy chest.

“Oro got another job for us. Says she’ll double what she paid us this time.”

“Really?” Curiosity getting the better of you. You turned and rested your head on your hand, looking over at the device.

“How’s ‘bout it, baby?” he looked over at you, pursing his lips. You read over the job details again. This was more dangerous than the first job, and you didn’t understand why Violetta Oro decided to request the Ravagers’ services again.

“I don’t know Yondu,” hesitation in your voice. “This is way more dangerous. Breaking into a Centurion’s office? We’re dealing with the government now?”

“Well, he wronged her!” Yondu tried to justify the mission.

“And why is that our problem?” you huffed, removing the fur blankets from your body and walking towards the small shower in the quarters. Yondu sighed and got up from the bed to follow you. He wrapped his arms around your waist as you turned the handle to start the water. He placed a kiss to your shoulder while his hands started to lightly run up and down your sides.

“Come on, (y/n),” his raspy voice cooed. “Just think of all ‘em units. I could take ya’s somewhere real nice and we can have a real night away off this ship.” Yondu’s lips trailed up and down the side of your neck, his crooked teeth teasingly nipped along your skin and sent goosebumps down your spine.

“Hmm, what ya say baby?”

You were still irritated at him, but god he knew how to touch your body to coerce you into anything he wanted. You started thinking what’s one more mission? Yondu’s crew was an experienced group and you knew if anyone could pull this off it would be him. Wanting to tease the Centaurian a little and keep his curiosity, you turned around in his arms.

“Let me think about it in the shower?” you raised an eyebrow, a slight smile on your face as your hands rubbed up and down his muscular arms. You grabbed his hands in yours, and guided him into the steaming shower with you.

A couple of weeks later you went on the mission. Breaking into the Nova Corps main building, Yondu had just grabbed the pendant Oro’s ex lover had kept. Everything was going to plan and Yondu smiled at you when a loud siren sounded throughout the entire building. One of the Ravagers had set off an invisible trap, and metal walls were falling down all the doors and windows at lighting speed. Panic set in and everyone broke into a run to get back on the Eclector as guards appeared, taking down anyone in their sights. Many Ravagers went down, and out of the corner of your eye you saw Kraglin get hit in the leg.

“Yondu!” you yelled as you ran back to Kraglin. Yondu was paces ahead of you, but turned at your voice, and saw you struggling to get Kraglin to his feet. He stuffed the gold pendant into his pocket and ran back to help. Quickly the both of you took Kraglin by a shoulder and got him to the ship. Yondu went to the Captain’s chair to start the engines.

“What are you doing?!” you asked after making sure Kraglin was okay.

“We’re gettin outta here, Darlin,” Yondu replied, avoiding eye contact with you.

“What about the others?!” Your eyes widened in shock. Was he really going to abandon half his crew? They weren’t that far behind you, and you couldn’t live with yourself knowing they got to the docking station with the Eclector to be nowhere in sight. You made eye contact with Yondu, his red eyes glaring at you when you told him to stay put. The look in his eyes scared you for a moment before you made a particular threat to him about cutting your evenings together. He mumbled under his breath before begrudgingly agreeing to stay for a couple of minutes before taking off. After staring out of the window for what felt like hours, a small group of the crew appeared from the building running towards the ship. You breathed a sigh of relief knowing your threat wasn’t in vain, but you knew once you were alone in the confines of his room, you and Yondu were going to have it out.

You stood on opposite sides of Yondu’s bed, both your arms animatedly flying about as you each defended your side of the argument.

“That was too close of a call!” you spat out.

“We was fine! Just like any other mission!” Yondu yelled back.

“No, it wasn’t!” you shook your head. Frustrated you sat on the bed, your back facing the Centaurian. “You changed out there Yondu, and I didn’t like it.”

“What ya mean I changed?!” you looked over your shoulder as his brows furrowed and lips tightened as he waited for you to answer.

“I mean you were going to abandon your crew on Xandar. I saw the look in your eyes. All you were thinking about were the units.” You sat in silence waiting for him to respond. When he didn’t, you got up from the bed and walked out of the door.

Later that night, unable to sleep, you heard the doors of your tiny room slide open and close and felt the edge of your bed dip. You turned around on your side to see Yondu, his fingers fumbling with a small, plastic dog in his hands.

“I’m sorry, (y/n).” his voice whispered as he handed you the toy. You took it from him, looking at the brown and white spots on the long ears. Yondu always remembered you on his days out, and would bring you back anything he found cute. Sighing, you forgave him. You knew Yondu’s heart was always in the right place, he just didn’t always think things through.

“Just tell her no next time?” you asked and Yondu nodded his head. You placed the plastic dog on the desk next to your growing collection, and cuddled into Yondu who stayed with you the rest of the night.

Our love has gone cold

You're intertwining your soul with somebody else

Weeks went by and everything seemed to have gone back to normal. The Ravagers had been having a steady line of work, and Kraglin and Yondu were frequenting the markets to make deals on items you collected. Yondu had also started to spoil you with more lavish gifts than his usual trinkets. It was late one evening when Yondu came to your quarters with another gift for you. You weren’t sure exactly what is was, but it looked like a female alien. She had tentacles for arms and a winged back. The thing wasn’t ugly though, being made out of gold. It kind of reminded you of an angel. You thanked him for it and gave him a kiss on the cheek while Yondu went back to his room to shower. Staring at the statue something about it felt off to you. You turned the object in your hands, studying the four eyes on the face, the long, bended arms, and the details of the wings on the back. You tipped it upside down to see if there was an artist’s name on the bottom. Something was engraved, but had faded over time. You brought it closer to your eyes when you made out the words O-R-O.

A white hot heat spread throughout your body. Maybe your eyes were deceiving you. You glanced down at the statue again, and the words were clearer this time. He was still in contact with her. You felt tears sting your eyes as your body got up from the chair and marched towards Yondu’s room. Not even bothering knocking, you punched the keypad to unlock the doors and barged in. Yondu, standing at the end of his bed in his pants, turned around as you threw the statue at him, his quick reflexes catching it with little hesitation.

“You wanna tell me where you got that?!”

“Whatchu mean?” he asked. “I got it in the marketplace.”

“Bullshit Yondu! Look at the bottom of it!” Yondu tilted the statue over, his ruby eyes narrowing in on the bottom. His face fell when he made out the words etched underneath. Rubbing a hand over his face, he cursed under his breath.

“Are you cheating on me?” you questioned.

“What? NO!” he bellowed out, tossing the statue on his bed. “I didn’t know her name was on it!”

“Then how in the hell did you give me something that clearly belongs to Violetta Oro?!” Yondu looked at the ground, avoiding eye contact with you.

“I...I’ve been doing small jobs here and there for her. Pickin up extra units.”

“I asked you to stop.”

“I know,” he said in a soft voice, nodding his head.

“Damnit Yondu! She’s using you!” you spat out. “How do you not see that?!”

“She ain’t using me!” he said louder, finding his voice again. You shook your head at him. Yondu may have been one of the best Ravager Captains in the galaxy, and he was street smart, but when it came to money, he lost all sense.

“Yes, she is. She’s using the units as bait to get you to do her petty, dirty work for her.” Tears now silently streaming down your face, you quickly wiped them away. He was going behind your back after you asked him to stop taking jobs from Oro. You didn’t know if he was cheating, but some kind of relationship was there, and it hurt too much to think about.

“How can I trust you anymore?” you asked, your voice weak. Yondu was silent, he couldn't look at you for more than a few seconds before his eyes returned to the floor. You waited and he didn’t answer. You went back to your room, thinking he needed time, and waited, but he didn’t come. You weren’t going to wait for him anymore, you packed up all your things and snuck out in the middle of the night.

Come on baby

This ain't the last time that I'll see your face

I just don't believe that you have got it in you 'cause

We are just gonna keep 'doin' it' and everytime

I start to believe in anything you're saying

I'm reminded that I should be getting over it

Months had gone by since you left the Eclector, and your thoughts were constantly plagued with images of Yondu and Violetta Oro. You wondered how many more of her jobs Yondu went on, and couldn’t help but picture the two of them together. You thought leaving was the best thing for you to do. You were hurt and angry, but no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t get the Centaurian out of your mind.

You made ends meet by doing the odd job here and there, and on your nights off found yourself in the same old bars of Contraxia. Tonight, a particularly handsome Xandarian took a seat next to you. Finding yourself not repulsed like you usually were with the other occupants, you let him buy your next drink. Smiling at the man you hadn’t felt this good in a while, although you knew a part of that was from the buzz of the alcohol. Your eyes wandered around the establishment, when they caught sight of a blue figure walking in. Immediately you felt your body sober up, the light bubble of happiness inside of you popping. Mouth dry you averted your eyes back to the Xandarian, who was in the middle of telling a rather boring story about his youth. You watched the man talk, but your mind was elsewhere. This wasn’t the first time you had seen Yondu around. Your last encounter with him flashed before your eyes.

Whenever you spotted him on Contraxia you did your best to disappear, but on more than one occasion he had caught sight of you and called after you. That night you walked into the bar’s restroom in the back, and waited. Finally thinking it had been long enough, you caved and walked out the door, right into Yondu. He walked you back into the hallway, started going on about how he understood why you left, but that nothing happened between him and Oro. You grew irritated at his excuse of an apology.

“I was doing it for ya!” He started arguing with you when you told him that wasn’t the only reason why you left.

“Fuck you, Yondu! You just wanted the units, no matter the job!” you responded. He still didn’t get it. “I didn’t need any of it!” You pushed his chest to get him to move away from you but he didn’t budge, which only angered you more.

“I guess that’s why Peter left, huh?” Your anger making you spill out hateful words. You pushed again and he moved a little this time.

“It became too much for him too? I guess old habits are hard to break?!”

Yondu had let you push him up against the opposite wall of the hallway. You glared at him as he started smiling at your last words.

“Yeah, guess they are.” His blue tongue glided over his upper lip. Your eyes moved to his rough lips and you swallowed hard and took a breathe. You missed him no matter how hard you tried to deny it, and his little teasing caused a response in your body. Your heart started buzzing and you let out of breathe.

“Oh, fuck it.” you muttered out, your hands grabbing hold of his neck and lips smashing into his. Your teeth knocked into his but you didn’t care, you only thought about how good it felt when his hands grasped your hips and his fingers dug into your skin. His hands went to the back of your thighs and you jumped a little as he picked you up and carried you to one of the rooms in the back. Yondu threw you on the bed, both your clothes off in seconds. He didn’t waste any time as you were both hungry for each other, and without warning he plunged into you. You screamed out when Yondu entered you, the pain turning into pleasure as he started a hard, steady rhythm. Both of you moaning out loud, not caring if anyone could hear you as they walked by. It didn’t take long for the warmth to spread across your body, writhing underneath Yondu’s big frame as he brought you over the edge with him soon following. The next morning you snuck out of the room, telling yourself it wouldn’t happen again. You let him get under your skin one more time, but this time, you swore, you were done.

You were just about to excuse yourself from the Xandarian when you heard the familiar gravelly voice call your name. Slowly, you lifted your gaze up to him, the colorful lights of the bar illuminating his blue skin in yellows, greens, and purples. The synthetic rhythm of the song playing in the bar filled your ears and you couldn’t hear what Yondu said next.

“Huh?” you called out.

“I said can I talk ta ya in private?” he yelled back. You looked over at the Xandarian, who had no idea what was going on, and excused yourself before you could say anything in response. You followed Yondu out into the frigid night air of Contraxia.

“Ya seein someone else?” he asked as you walked out of the bar.

“No, just met him tonight,” you said. “Was kind of starting to bore me actually,” you admitted before you could stop yourself. You saw the corner of Yondu’s mouth turn upwards out of the side of your eye. You continued walking around the neon lit planet, the crunching of snow underneath your feet, and the muffled beat of music from the bar were the only sounds emanating around you. His silence was driving you crazy.

“You still working for Oro?” you asked. Yondu huffed out a laugh and smiled at the ground.

“Nah, ya was right,” he sighed. You stopped in your tracks. He looked over at you, his red eyes studying your face. “Cut off ties with her. She made a pass at me when I said I wouldn’t do a job. Happened ‘bout right after our last encounter.” A smile ghosting his face remembering your night together. You let his words sink it, he was admitting you were right.

“Told you.”

“Yeah, I know,” he admitted. His eyes softened and he cleared his throat before continuing. “Been thinkin ‘bout a lot of things recently, and m’sorry...‘bout everything.” You studied his face, looking for any sign that he could be lying to you.

“What made you change your mind?” You asked crossing your arms.

“Peter.”

“Peter?!” you called out confused. Yondu laughed at your outburst before explaining what he had been up to these last couple of months, including the Battle of Xandar.

“So you’re helping the government out now?”

“On occasion,” he smirked. He inched towards you and placed a hand on your cheek, his thumb tracing over your frostbitten skin. His smile disappeared and he looked at you like he’d never done before. His face was serious, his eyes never wavering as he started to speak.

“Peter needed me. When it was all over, I realized I needed you.” You unfolded your arms as Yondu slid his around you. Letting his hands run up and down your body, feeling the trail of heat they left on you out in the cold, made you realize how much you missed him. Maybe he would betray you again, maybe he wouldn’t. All you knew was at this moment, it felt right, and you were tired of being unhappy.

“I need you too.” you answered. Yondu smiled at you and leaned his head down to kiss you. Old habits were hard to break, and you didn’t think you’d ever get rid of this one.

#yondu x reader #yondu udonta x reader #yondu #rookerstashsongchallenge #not sure why the text is all funky at the beginning

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