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whatsthethinking · 1 year

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Somebody's Lover

Neteyam x Fem!Reader

◈ Word count: 3.3k

◈ Warning: n/a? Maybe just Neteyam being in love

◈ Note: Second request :) based on this video? Maybe, I tried. I'm finally getting around to the requests that have been collecting dust in my inbox

◈ Lo’ak version

The elders of the Omatikaya clan were becoming concerned with Neteyam, he was to pass his rites in a matter of weeks and yet, he hasn’t shown any indication of even thinking about choosing a mate. It was no secret that the young Na’vi had many admirers, many fighting amongst themselves to get a sliver of attention from the Olo’keytan’s eldest son.

But none of them seemed to have a chance. Neteyam did not show that he favoured one person over another. Everyone was treated with the same level of respect, and greeted them with perfect manners. Everyone was equal, even if Neteyam didn’t particularly like you.

Some parents would even go as far as having their children befriend Lo’ak or Kiri, even little Tuk and those who were really desperate would seek out Spider but these schemes did not go very far once they were met with Neytiri’s fiery gaze, the protective mother was able to detect their plans from miles away.

It seemed like no one had a chance, Neteyam hadn’t shown interest in anyone within his clan for what seemed like years now, not that anyone was counting. There was a time when the clan thought that Tahé was to be the ‘one’.

Tahé is the eldest daughter of Jake’s most trusted warriors, she would often train alongside Neteyam in their youth and was close to the Sully family growing up but as time went on, it was clear that the Tahé and the Sully children had grown distant. You would no longer see Kiri and Tahé skipping through the forest in search of flowers to weave, or Lo’ak dragging the girl along to get into trouble. You would see Neteyam following clan members around, learning how to forage for food, Tahé would be trailing behind him with a dazed look on her face as Neteyam soaked up all of the information.

But, it was clear that the distance started to form once Tahé had started making friends with the older children in the clan. Those older children would take time out of their day to bully Kiri and Lo’ak for being different, Tahé standing behind them not saying a word. More often than not, it would be Neteyam stepping in to put an end to the teasing, Tahé would bat her eyelashes, dismissing her new friend’s behaviour but Neteyam isn’t stupid, nor is he deaf. He could hear the teasing, he could hear his siblings cry at night. As much as Neteyam disliked the girl, he knew he had to keep up appearances and bite his tongue.

And tonight was no different, the clan was having a communal dinner to celebrate this week's very successful hunt, one that Neteyam had taken part in and was being praised for. Lo’ak, Kiri and Tuk sat to Neytiri’s left, conversing with her and their grandmother. Neteyam had been sandwiched between his father and Tahé, Tahé’s father and mother beside her.

“You should be proud of yourself, Neteyam. I was told you worked extremely hard today.” Tahé’s father praised.

“Thank you, sir.” Neteyam replied looking down at his food, “Everyone worked hard.”

“Yes, yes. But you made two sturmbeest kills mere seconds apart from each other.”

“You did?” Tahé’s eyes lit up, “you’re very talented, maybe you can teach me how you did it?”

Even though Tahé’s voice filled the air, Neteyam didn’t hear her, he was too focused on the events happening in the distance. A Na’vi girl his age was swatting a Na’vi boy's hand away from her food, while their parents ignored them, indicating this was a common occurrence.

The boy stopped his antics when his eyes met Neteyam’s, the boy’s face broke out into a large grin as he waved his hand above his head enthusiastically. The older girl rolled her eyes dramatically before offering a smile in Neteyam’s direction which he returned.

“He would love to,” Jake started, looking at Neteyam and tapping the boy’s arm to regain his attention, “isn’t that right Neteyam?”

Neteyam’s face flushed as he had been caught not paying attention to the conversation. He looked at his father for any indication of what was happening but he was just met with his father’s smirk and a twinkle of mischief in his eye that Neytiri would suggest meant he was up to no good.

“I guess?”

“Great! Tomorrow?” Tahé questioned, clearly not sensing that the boy was not interested.

“N-no. Not tomorrow, I have plans.”

“Oh, the day after then?”

Neteyam looked at Tahé and her family, he felt all eyes on him. He was sure he could hear Lo’ak howling at his expense.

“Sure?”

Damn it

Something else about Neteyam that the clan noticed? His inability to say ‘no’.

—

“No,” Neteyam said flatly, adjusting the bow on his chest

“Bro come on, please, dad’s already on my ass for sneaking out after eclipse, just come with me. Please.” Lo’ak all but begged as he watched his brother saddle his ikran

“That’s not my problem, I told you and Spider not to go but you did anyways and now Spider’s wrist is broken, Lo’ak.”

Lo’ak looked at his brother in confusion, this side of him was different. Yes, he was used to his brother scolding him or helping him cover up his antics or coming along so no one got hurt, but in the past months, Neteyam had been brushing off his plans to cause trouble.

“You’re gonna ditch me for Tahé, aren’t you? That’s low.”

“Tahé?” Neteyam’s face contorted in confusion, “why would I ditch you for her?”

“You don’t remember?” Lo’ak stared at his brother in disbelief, “You really don’t remember. Oh my. You agreed to help her with hunting or whatever today. She’s been running around telling everyone it’s a date or something. You would know that if you were around yesterday.”

Neteyam lept onto his ikran forming the bond and getting comfortable, “I’ll reschedule.”

Before Lo’ak could make a snide comment, Neteyam and his ikran took off into the sky.

“Oh, I can not wait to see her face.” Lo’ak smiles cheekily as he walks off, excited to tell his old friend that the love of her life stood her up.

—

“You need to hold the bow like this or you’ll drop the arrows.”

Neteyam nodded trying to focus on the instructions being given to him, but he was distracted by his teachers' close proximity.

Y/n circled Neteyam before stopping beside him, adjusting his fingers and stepping back.

“Okay, shoot.”

Neteyam took a deep breath before releasing the two arrows, both arrows had hit way off centre, one was right at the edge of the target, a small breeze could send the arrow hurtling into the bush beside it.

“Oh?”

“Shut it,” Neteyam blushed, shooting two arrows at once was harder than the girl before him made it seem.

Y/n quickly retrieved the arrows and made her way back towards Neteyam, a teasing smile on her lips, “looks like the mighty warrior needs more practice.”

Neteyam reached a hand out, placing it on top of y/n’s that were wrapped around the two arrows and pulled her forward gently until she was standing directly in front of him

“I’ll need all the help I can get.”

Neteyam smiled sweetly, taking in his lover's face.

When he was with y/n it was like time stood still and nothing around him mattered. Being with y/n he felt like he could be himself, he could relax, there was no one to impress, no one holding him to a high standard. Being with y/n he felt nervous but also with her, he felt at peace.

Neteyam leaned down slightly and y/n closed the gap, Neteyam’s hand moved up and gently held the side of her head as their lips met. Y/n’s free hand held Neteyam’s arm, her fingers giving his arm a gentle squeeze.

Neteyam could feel his heart pick up speed as y/n dropped her arrows and raised her hands to rest them on his shoulders and then slowly around his neck. He followed suit and dropped his bow on the ground, bringing his hands to her waist.

The sound of his ikran chittering brought the pair out of their embrace. Neteyam’s face flushed as he suddenly felt shy, not looking y/n in the eye. The girl grinned, bringing a hand to his chin and moving his head so he could meet her gaze.

“Always so shy.” She teased placing a kiss on the corner of his mouth.

Neteyam chuckled under his breath, a hand gently caressing the small of her back, “What can I say? You’re absolutely stunning.”

Y/n’s face blushed at the compliment, causing her to look down slightly.

Y/n took Neteyam’s hand, leading him to her ikran. When they arrived, y/n let go of his hand and opened the bag she had attached to its saddle. Reaching in and pulling out a small parcel wrapped in fabric. She handed it to Neteyam, her hands fidgeting nervously as he began to unwrap it.

“I remember that you said you like the one I have, so I made you your own,” Y/n admitted shyly as Neteyam ran a finger over the woven cords and then the stone sitting in the middle.

Neteyam reached around and quickly untied his beaded choker, replacing it with the necklace. When he was sure that it was secure, he grinned at her before placing his hands on either side of her face and dramatically kissing her forehead.

“Mwah!” He exclaimed as she laughed, “I love it.”

—

As Neytiri chopped the vegetables, her ears twitched hearing Jake half-heartedly apologise to Tahé’s father for her eldest son's disappearance. Her eldest son had been disappearing more and more recently. She had an idea what could be going on with Neteyam for the past few months but she felt like she should leave it to him to tell him.

“Neteyam’s back!“ Tuk exclaimed, pointing to the sky, sure enough, Neteyam and his ikran were making a slow descent in the distance, moments later, the boy in question stepped through the low-hanging trees into view. As the boy emerged, Neytiri instantly noticed the change in her son’s appearance, his usual beaded choker that he wore with pride had been replaced with a woven necklace, and his hair had changed too. The beads that resided at the front of his hair were now in a different colour order and there was also an orange feather dangling behind his ear.

The whispering was almost instantaneous but it did not seem to affect Neteyam as he made his way towards the family tent. Passing Jake and Tahé’s father in the process. Seeing him, Jake said bye to the other man and followed his son into the tent. Neytiri stood up as well and walked in with Tuk rushing behind.

Just as Neteyam entered the family tent, Jake’s hand reached out toward the boy’s back, pulling a white and blue feathered arrow out of the quiver. Jake instantly noticed that this arrow didn’t belong to his son or anyone in his family and at a stretch anyone in the clan.

Neteyam spun around at the slight weight change and his eyes locked onto the arrow being twisted between Jake’s fingers.

“This isn’t yours.” Jake stated, “Where were you?”

“Practising.”

“Practising?”

“Yes?”

Jake hummed as he took in this lie, he liked to believe he knew his children well and one thing about Neteyam, he was a terrible liar. Something they clearly had to work on.

“Who did you practise with?” Jake questioned with humour in his voice and Neteyam’s eyes failed to keep contact with him.

“A friend.”

“Oh? And does this friend have a name?”

Neteyam’s mouth opened and closed quickly, looking at his mother for help.

“Ma Jake, you’re embarrassing him,” Neytiri interjected, taking the arrow from between her mate’s fingers.

“I am not, I'm just asking questions.”

Neytiri gave Jake a look before handing Neteyam the arrow. Jake cleared his throat, crossing his arms over his chest.

“You ditched Tahé, again.” Jake stated to his son, putting on an authoritative tone, “Her dad was just here telling me how upset she is.”

Tuk rolled her eyes at her father’s antics, taking the arrow from Neteyam, everyone in this tent knew that Jake did not like Tahé around his children but for the sake of keeping the peace, he bites his tongue.

“I forgot.”

“Forgot with your friend?”

Neteyam paused momentarily before nodding, “Yes?”

Jake dropped the act at his son’s hesitant honesty.

“She make you that necklace?” Neteyam nodded

“She do your hair?” Again, Neteyam nodded

“Have you kissed her yet?”

“Ma Jake!” “Daddy!”

“What? I’m just asking.”

—

The next evening, Neteyam found himself walking confidently through the camp, hoping to not be stopped on the way to his destination.

Neteyam led the pair through the bioluminescent forest, being sure to brush any low-hanging vines out of the way.

“Where are we going?” Y/n questioned, looking around, no matter how many times she ran through the forest during the day, it does not dull the beauty it holds at night

“Just a little further, I promise.” Neteyam smiled, squeezing her hand.

Walking along a thick branch, moving the flora away from her legs, he motioned her to step forward onto the mountain edge as he placed a small basket on the ground, the moss beneath her feet lighting up with every step she took.

“Wow.” Y/n breathed out taking in the view. From here, you could see almost the whole forest

Neteyam walked behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and resting his chin on her shoulder.

“This is beautiful, Neteyam.” She whispered, placing her arms on top of his and taking in the view. “How did you know to come here?”

“Running around after Lo’ak has some advantages.” He smiled, placing a kiss on her shoulder.

Y/n laughed slightly at the thought of the younger boy that always seemed to attract trouble, he was very similar to her own brother, the only difference was that Lo’ak was the Olo'eyktan’s son so if he was to get in trouble, everyone knew about it.

Neteyam placed another kiss on the girl's shoulder and slowly made his way up her neck. Y/n turned her head and their lips brushed against one another.

“What are you doing?”

“Admiring you,” Neteyam replied softly, “is that okay?”

Y/n nodded, turning around, the boy pulling her into a kiss, much more passionate than the ones shared the day prior.

—

Y/n straddled Neteyam’s lap, her knees sinking into the moss. Neteyam’s hands ran up y/n’s thighs and rested on her hips.

Y/n placed one arm behind the back of his neck and used her free hand to trace the bioluminous flecks across his forehead, down his nose to his chin. Neteyam looked up at y/n, eyes full of love and admiration.

“I love you,” Neteyam said without a hint of hesitation or the usual shyness in his voice, a gentle smile on his face.

“I love you, too,” Y/n replied, smiling down at him lovingly.

—

Y/n walked into the clearing where other teens were training, her brother, Kalä, trailing behind her complaining about not wanting to train this early.

“We’re here for you, not for me.” She reminded him, rolling her eyes as he started to complain louder.

Y/n ignored him as she lent her bow against a tree and started to sort out her arrows.

Out of the corner of her eye, y/n noticed Tahé walking into the clearing with her obnoxious group of friends. As the group passes, Tahé eyed the girl before stopping fully next to her.

“Y/n, it’s been so long, are you here to train with us?” Her tone was somewhat condescending

Y/n looked down at the arrows in her hand and then back at the girl, “Did the arrows in my hand tell you that?”

Kalä bit back a smile at his sister's response which didn’t go unnoticed by the other girl who glared subtly at him.

“It’s just that I haven’t seen you around in such a long time, I was concerned, I thought something happened.”

Y/n resisted the urge to roll her eyes at the girl, instead looking to the other side of the clearing where Jake Sully, Neytiri and their two sons had walked in. Tahé’s eyes followed, her eyes lighting up at the sight. The girl quickly ran her hand over her hair and down her outfit before slowly turning away, y/n noticed that Kalä had extended his foot out but she pushed him to the side so he didn’t succeed in tripping the annoying girl.

“Behave.” She muttered, turning away to finish organising the arrows.

Tahé’s friends followed behind, chatting amongst themselves, none of them having the courage to walk up to the Olo'eyktan directly.

“She’s just so, urgh. I can’t stand her. Look at her, drooling over Neteyam, wait until she finds out he’s been shoving his ton-”

Y/n turned to her brother swiftly, hitting him in the arm with the end of an arrow, eyes wide in disbelief.

“Ow! I’m sensitive!” Kalä exclaimed defensively, holding onto his arm.

This caused the siblings to start bickering amongst themselves, which started to draw the attention of some clan members around them.

—

Neteyam looked around the clearing, he tried to make it seem like he was just surveying the area but in reality, he was looking for the girl he spent the whole night speaking to, the pair only making it back to their tents just as the sun was rising.

At the far end of the clearing, Neteyam spotted a familiar sibling poking each other in the shoulder.

Neteyam smiled, looking down at the grass surrounding his feet.

“Neteyam!”

He raised his head slowly to see Tahé walking toward him and his family, Lo’ak sighed and rolled his eyes as Neytiri nudged him. Jake looked back at his eldest son, s smile creeping onto his face as he saw Neteyam resist the urge to copy his brother.

“Good morning.” Tahé greeted cheerfully, a grin stretching onto her face.

“You’re very chipper this morning, so you must’ve already ruined someone's day,” Lo’ak stated only to receive a stern look from his father.

Tahé was about to retaliate but she was stopped as someone rushed forward, almost knocking her to the floor.

“Sorry! Neteyam! Finally, you’re here!” Kalä announced, skidding to a stop next to the boy, “Save me.”

Neteyam smiled at the younger boy, excusing himself from Tahé and his family, walking towards where y/n was standing, testing a bow.

“Look, Neteyam’s here!”

Y/n turned to smile at Neteyam before glaring at her brother, pushing the bow and an arrow into his chest before crossing her arms, “Go.”

“But-”

“Go, I’ll join you in a minute.” Neteyam intervened nodding at the younger boy

Kalä smiled smugly before walking off quickly to where other teens were waiting for an instructor.

“You don’t have to help him, you know,” Y/n sighed, uncrossing her arms, letting them fall to her side and placing her weight onto one leg.

“I want to,” Neteyam confirmed with a smile, watching the boy join his friends.

With their backs to the clearing, everyone was able to see Neteyam’s hand slowly make his way towards y/n’s, taking hold of it and bringing it to his mouth, kissing her knuckles, causing the girl to turn and smile at him.

Jake nodded approvingly while Neytiri smiled fondly.

Lo’ak was proud of his brother for finding someone he liked and he was even happier when he watched Tahé’s face drop and her shoulders sag in defeat.

Request from @tigermoon3

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jinwoosungs · 2 months

Text

{ 132 }

crush, crush, crush.

megumi fushiguro x fem.reader

no curses | college au.

{ and i'm like, yeah | everything you heard is true | everybody knows i'm hung up on you. }

much like half of the female population of students that attended this university, you had a crush on megumi fushiguro.

something about him was just so appealing to you (and many others). from his deep, emerald green eyes to the way his spiked hair fell across his pale face.

his full lips were often seen set in a permanent scowl, indicating his absolute disdain for something-

and his deep voice was painted in nonchalant tones, as if nothing in the world could ever bother him-

but it was enough to fuel your desire to get closer to him.

being somewhat of a smart cookie, you ended up sharing quite a few classes with the enigmatic megumi. from ethics to advanced calculus, you were honestly just happy enough to be in his presence.

because you knew that the chances of megumi returning your feelings were slim to none, that didn't stop you from doing something a little silly (and quite stupid, really) to get closer to him.

in your advanced calculus class, you purposely failed a sequence of pop quizzes, each and every one of them serving to be like a test drive before the real deal: the first exam worth nearly 20% of your final grade.

your professor, feeling exasperated on your depressingly low averages, finally decided to enlist the help of the student who consistently scored a 100% on every assignment and pop quiz-

megumi.

she calls you to the front of her desk while stopping megumi from leaving the classroom. megumi's eyes were furrowed in confusion, and you did your best to put on a sad face, jutting your lips out in a disappointed pout and all.

"fushiguro, you're one of the best students in my class- actually, you're the only one who has ever had consistently high scores on my homework and quizzes."

your professor gestures over to you, all while saying your name with a disappointed sigh. "she needs your help. her scores have been embarrassingly low, and i'm afraid if this continues, she will not have a chance to pass this class and may need a retake. so please, when it's still early in the semester, can you help her?"

you take this chance to meet with megumi's gaze, seeing them flash with an unknown emotion for a brief moment before returning back to his blank, emotionless gaze. he places a hand within the pocket of his jeans, looking away from you to see each one of your written quizzes spread out against your professor's desk.

you had to fight back the heat against your cheek when his bored, emerald gaze looked at the 0's written in a deep red ink, the anger and disappointment your teacher felt for you seeming to create a harsh dent, with each bold x seen scattered across the problems on the papers, nearly ripping through each sheet.

"so, as you can see, i don't wish for this student to be a hopeless case. if things go well, the highest grade she can make is a 70. but... i'll allow it if you can help her."

without another word needing to be spoken, megumi gives the professor a stiff nod before collecting your quizzes together in a single, neat stack. he meets with your gaze and says a simple "follow me." before walking out of the classroom.

and despite how you could feel your heart pounding from within your chest, you kept your cool and followed megumi from close behind. you continue to walk in silence for several seconds when he turns around to face you, seeing you standing behind him while letting out a sound of annoyance.

"don't walk behind me like i'm better than you." he gently grabs a hold of your wrist so that you were now walking right next to him. "i hate that shit. we're in the same year, so act like it."

the way your heart suddenly jumped into your throat was enough to make you feel dizzy, and the fact that megumi didn't show any hints of letting you go made it all the more overwhelming for you.

with his hand loosely gripping at your wrist, he leads you to your university's library, the silence was once deafening as you thought that your ears were close to ringing-

but the moment several students laid eyes on megumi holding your hand, you felt all eyes turn on you. their studying all but forgotten as whispers and giggles were heard throughout. seemingly unbothered by the sudden change, he keeps holding on to your wrist before going towards one of the hallways that held several study rooms. the first empty room he finds, he enters it while shutting the door.

in the middle of the room was a large, square table with four seats surrounding it. megumi takes an extra seat and settles it on the same side as him, silently gesturing at you to sit to his left. you nod and heed his words, feeling somewhat shy as you took out a fresh notebook along with some pencils and pens from your backpack.

megumi settles himself beside you and takes out his notebook. as you trail your eyes over those meticulous pages, you saw just how much care and detail he put within them, the black ink seeming to bleed through each page as evidence of his dedication.

he takes one of your quizzes and points to each concept you missed within his notes, and you found yourself following along quite well. you end up completely correcting your errors within 20 minutes, and was simply basking in megumi's presence when a deep chuckle was heard.

"heh, i knew you were suspicious..." megumi had placed his lips against the shell of your ear, tone dripping with an uncharacteristic amusement. the feeling of his hot breath against your ear was enough to make you shiver in response, your wary gaze meeting with his.

"ah... i... don't know what you mean?"

he gives you a scoff, telling you that he didn't believe your bluff for a single minute while shutting his notebook. "you know, professor irie has told me to tutor some of her other students in different classes several times. and i can't tell you how we often spent two hours working on a single problem."

"yet you... you corrected each and every one of your mistakes, redoing all 10 problems and giving me the correct answer within a mere 20 minutes."

you were frozen, eyes going wide, as if you were a deer caught in headlights. a smirk was seen gracing megumi's handsome features when you could feel his large hand against your back, pushing you forward so that you could see your past quizzes. he spreads out each and every one of the pages that averaged a 0, taking his signature black pen as he filled them all in with 100's.

"it takes a different type of genius to purposely choose wrong answers, so tell me... why?"

you begin to blush profusely, unable to meet his gaze as you felt your heart pounding faster with anxiety, nearly coming out of your ribcage. you lost all nerve, unable to even look at him when you shakily manage to tell him.

"i-i think you know why."

"i do, but i'd much rather hear it from you."

you could feel his gentle hands rubbing against your cheek, making you sigh as you relented.

"i-i did it so that i could be closer to you...because i know that you wouldn't notice me otherwise."

"and who says i didn't notice you?"

you gasp upon feeling megumi take a hold of your chin, forcing you to face him as his eyes were shining with a look akin to... adoration for you. he allows the pad of his thumb to trace at your bottom lip before admitting to you, "i've seen the truth of your studious nature and your hard work. and those glances you've been sneaking at me when you thought i wasn't looking... so how could i possibly ignore your presence so easily?"

you watch when he slowly narrows his gaze, suddenly inching himself closer to you as you could taste his breath against your lips, giving you little choice but to cave in to your feelings for him as you met with him halfway.

and as his lips perfectly slot themselves against yours in a perfect kiss, you found yourself sighing, thinking to yourself that failing a few quizzes was completely worth it in the end.

all stories are written by rei; reposts, translations, and plagiarism are not allowed.

#megumi fushiguro x reader #megumi fushiguro x you #fushiguro megumi x reader #fushiguro megumi x you #megumi x reader #fushiguro megumi fluff #megumi fushiguro imagine #.stories

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nina-ya · 1 month

Note

Hey! It's my birthday and I was wondering if you write for Shanks? If you do, could you do a Ways That Law Wordlessly Says "I Love You"? thanks

Ways That Shanks Wordlessly Says "I Love You"

A/N: HAPPIEST OF BIRTHDAYS TO YOU NONNIE <3<3 I hope your birthday went well!! Luffy Zoro Sanji Law Kid Shanks Pairing: Shanks x reader CW: None. WC: 1.4k

Shanks had a talent for picking up on the smallest of details, especially when it came to you. He always seemed to know what you wanted, even before you had a chance to verbalize it. It was one of the many things that made being with him so special– his ability to read you like an open book.

One day, you two would be wandering through a market on a smaller island. The stalls are filled with various goods and trinkets, each one tempting you in their own way. You walked besides Shanks, taking in the atmosphere of the market.

As you passed a stall filled with jewelry, a particular piece caught your eye. The craftsmanship was absolutely perfect and you just couldn’t help but admire it. You did not say anything, however, and you moved on from the stall to browse the other vendors. Shanks, though, stayed behind for just a moment, seemingly engrossed in the jewelry himself. Later, the sun began to set, and the market started to close. Shanks led you two back to the ship, and as you were settling down in your cabin, he pulled out a box, handing it to you.

“Got you something,” Shanks said, holding the box out to you with a grin. “Thought you might like it.” You opened the box and found the very piece of jewelry that you’d been eyeing earlier. The piece glimmered against the light, painting soft reflections of the room's light against the walls. You were taken aback, surprised that Shanks had gotten the very thing that you had shown interest in.

“Shanks, you didn’t have to–” you began, but he interrupted your thoughts with a gentle laugh.

“I wanted to,” he replied. “I saw the way you were looking at that thing earlier, and I couldn’t resist. Besides, if you really feel bad, I can think of a few ways that you could pay me back.” He said with a playful wink at the last comment. You couldn’t help but laugh at his words, feeling lucky that you fell for someone as amazing as Shanks. He always had a way of making you feel special, spoiling you in the most thoughtful ways. You know Shanks loves you when he pays attention to all your wants and needs. - - -

It’s common for the crew to always seek out some sort of tavern when they make landfall. It’s a fun way to down booze while also getting to try the island's local cuisine. You sat at the bar, watching the red haired man on the other side of the bar as he chatted with the other crew members. He naturally stood out amongst the bunch, his voice projecting across the building. You could practically feel the charisma dripping from his words. It’s one of the reasons you fell for him.

Shanks approached you with a grin, ordering a round of drinks for everyone. He leaned against the counter, elbows propped up casually, turning to you. “Thirsty?” he asked, his voice projecting over the noise of the tavern.

You nodded, and he motioned for the bartender to bring some drinks over to you two. Shanks picked up the drinks and motioned for you to follow him. He led you to a table in the corner, the seats being somewhat secluded from the rest of the tavern. While the crew was busy celebrating, Shanks was more than happy to hang out with you away from the rest of them

He slid your drink over to you and tapped the two glasses with a satisfying clink that rang throughout the room. While the others in the crew were being rowdy and singing sea shanties, Shanks sat beside you, close enough that you could feel his body heat radiating off of him. He keeps you engaged in a conversation, pointing out small things around the tavern and telling you interesting places he wants to visit while you guys are visiting the island. He had a way of making everything sound exciting, even if they are the most mundane things.

He would laugh at your jokes, eyes sparkling with amusement, and he would slightly lean closer to you as the noise grew louder to make sure he did not miss a word you said. It was as if you two were in your own bubble. You know Shanks loves you when he values spending alone time with you. - - - Shanks’ lap is always the best seat in the house during all the parties you two found yourselves in. His arm seemed to always find itself wrapped firmly around you, holding you close. You held a mug of rum, sharing sips with him, because he’d much rather use his one arm to hold you and keep you securely against him. Even when he is telling stories or engaging in conversation with others, his grip never loosens and you often could feel his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your waist, leaving a trail of goosebumps.

Tonight, the crew is gathered around a bonfire on the beach, the hot amber flames flickering, giving light to the celebration and filling the air with the sound of the occasional crackle and pop of the firewood. Shanks is right at home, reciting stories, full body boisterous laughter spilling from his lips. Even when his focus is not on you, you know that you are constantly lingering in his mind with the way he pulls you in just a little closer, whispering an inside joke that has you reeling over in laughter. As always you are the carrier of food and drinks, offering it to him every so often. As the party winds down, Shanks stands, helping you to your feet, his arm still attached to you. It’s as if the world would crumble if he let go. Even as he guides you back to your shared quarters and into your bed, he still cannot seem to let go of you. There is just something about being in Shanks’ embrace that makes you feel so safe and so loved. As you drift off to sleep every night with his strong embrace cradling you to his chest, you know he will be right beside you when you wake up. You know Shanks loves you when he never lets go.

#Nina Writes~✦#Nina Responds~✦#one piece #one piece x reader #shanks x reader #red haired shanks #shanks #x reader

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accioprocrastination · 8 months

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One Day At A Time (Part 4/?)

Jake Seresin x Reader

Summary: Hangman's POW fiancée attempts a prison break and Jake gets the call he been longing for

A/N: Sorry I don't think this could've taken much longer to write!!

T/W: Anxiety, panic disorder, PTSD, POW, gun violence, hints to torture, death

Reader POV -

You don't give yourself time to strategise, you grab the boy's hand and Ghost's jacket and force them to follow you. You're back tracking through the building to a side door you noticed when you fell.

The sound of your heart hammering in your chest is the only thing you can focus on while your hand tremors above the door handle. You force yourself to ignore your rising panic and make a silent prayer that this door is unlocked.

Ghost echoes your sigh of relief when you try the door and it quietly swings open. You quickly survey the surrounding area from the doorway: there's no other guards in your eye line, and no visible watch towers that cover this section of the camp as far as you can tell from this vantage point.

Directly ahead, a few hundred metres away if you had to guess, you see a break in the fence and a small seating area just beyond it. They have a makeshift smoking area.

"Let's go." you say, not waiting for a response before breaking out into a sprint.

It's eerily quiet as you lift part of the chain fence, forcing it wide enough for the boy to shuffle through. Ghost watched in horror as you do not react to the metal cutting into your palms.

You gesture for Ghost to go first and he obliges. You feel blood start to run down your wrists as you force the metal to gape open wider.

Ghost visibly jumps when a second round of gunfire bellows from the building behind you. You shudder at the thought of them killing the people you left behind.

How can anyone have such little regard for human life? You've not encountered a single person here who looks marginally remorseful for their actions.

The wait for Ghost to get through the fence feels like a lifetime.

They're going to come for me, please move. You mentally chastise Ghost for the hold up.

Fear threatens to swallow you as you hear the back door burst open. It hits the wall with such a monstrous thud, that you feel the sound ricochet through your body.

"Don't turn around." Ghost warns you.

Both of you know the door is close enough that anyone with half decent aim could shoot you right now.

Ghost lets go of the fence and you feel your heart sink for a second thinking after all of this he could just leave you right now.

It takes you a minute to realise he's moving to get himself out of the firing line. He drops down to hold the fence at a much lower angle.

You're thrown against the fence as a blistering pain radiates through your shoulder.

"Go." you instruct Ghost, ringing blaring in your right ear.

"I'm not leaving you here Seresin." He says grabbing you through the fence and forcing you downwards.

You army crawl through the fence screaming from the pain of the bullet wound. "I'm not a Seresin." You say as soon as you're through the fence.

Ghost hoists you upright. "Not yet." He says with a small smile plastered on his lips.

The next few minutes are a blur - you're hazy from blood loss and running when none of you are in peak physical condition. It takes the three of you fucking ages to cover even the smallest of distances.

Every few yards Ghost slows down panting and coughing like he can't get enough air to his lungs which you know is a very real possibility now that he's sick.

You keep walking waiting for him to catch up - clutching your arm to maintain pressure.

The roaring of wardens behind you is getting closer and closer with every passing minute.

You've got to get out of this forest.

You need to get to a hospital.

Even if you meet your own version of Kathy Bates in Misery you'll have a higher chance of survival than if the guards catch you.

The two of you know from how many planes you've seen overhead since being moved to that camp that there has to be an air base nearby.

You either keep walking and hope to stumble upon it or find someone, anyone to help you.

Knowing the latter is unlikely you decide to just head to the edge of the forest.

You need to find civilisation.

Arguing breaks out nearby as the wardens question what direction you may have gone. Ghost rapidly responds halting you and placing a hand lightly over the boys mouth to muffle his weeping.

I don't know where to go. I don't know what direction will lead me out of here.

You silently stand behind trees hoping if you're quiet enough the men on your heels will give up and let you go home.

Reaching into your jumpsuit you grab the broken locket and stare at Jake's happy face.

I'll come back to you, you mentally promise him releasing a shuddering sigh in absolute dread over whatever you're going to have to do to get out of here.

Jake POV -

Hangman doesn't hear the phone ring from where he stands bickering the in garden with Rooster.

Javy on the other hand is inside, engaged in a discussion about his best friend with Bob and Phoenix. Trace looks at him knowingly, "are you going to get that or shall I because we both know Hangman is not in the mood to talk to someone else." she says.

Coyote gestures for her to hand him the phone. He instantly regrets having the responsibility when he answers the call from Admiral Simpson saying he needs to speak to Jake directly.

Knowing he cannot say this is not a good time to the admiral, Coyote pops his head of the sliding doors and calls for Jake.

"Work is beckoning you." He informs Hangman who instantly stands up straighter.

"Why?" He asks knowing his paranoia made him check that he had today off nine-thousand times.

The minuscule walk from the barbecue to Javy holding the phone out of the door is enough for Jake to plaster on his bravado. Whatever presumably horrible thing someone Is about to say on this phone call, cannot hurt me.

Jake puts the the phone to his ear and it's like everything else is in slow motion.

"At 16:00 on Tuesday an unauthorised fighter plane flew over the California. The plane had no coms with the US Airforce but landed upon request at a private airport." Cyclone starts.

Jake remains quiet, wondering what the hell does this have to do with me?

"The woman who was flying the plane has not been identified and was unconscious by the time that she was removed from the plane." He says.

Okay, and? Jake thinks still unsure on how this relates to him.

"The police have contacted all of the different defence agencies to see whether anyone has an MIA pilot matching her description." Cyclone continues.

"I am at the hospital and she is unrecognisable." He states making Jake even more confused.

"Sorry Sir but I am not seeing how I factor into this?" Jake speaks up not caring about the consequences of interrupting him.

"I am going to be honest and say you might not but I need you to tell me if this sounds familiar. The woman had a locket in her possession - the photo is tiny and dirty so I'm not saying this with any kind of certainty but it looks like you in the picture." Cyclone stops talking.

You're alive.

"I'm j-" Cyclone starts talking again but Jake interrupts.

"What hospital?" Jake asks feeling like he's barely breathing.

Simpson reels off the name.

"I'm on my way." Jake mutters.

Without saying anything to the others, he runs into the house and grabs his car keys from the bowl in the kitchen that he always shoves them in.

"Where are you going?" Javy questions as Jake grabs a jacket off the back of the door.

"I've got to go but I'll be back soon. You guys don't have to go... if you do, take the spare keys to lock up and then post them through the door - I don't know how long I'm going to be." He states shoving on the jacket before sprinting up the stairs to grab his backpack. He empties it onto the bed quickly - for once in his life not caring about being neat as he shakes it out.

He swings open the door to your half of the wardrobe and picks out your joggers and one of his t-shirts alongside underwear, socks and your trainers. Just in case you have to stay longer he grabs toothpaste, your toothbrush, deodorant and a scrunchie from the box of your stuff still sat in the bathroom cupboard.

"That'll do." he mutters running down the stairs and out the door before anyone can stop him.

Jake's fairly sure he's been caught by at least one speed camera as he steps out of his car in the hospital parking lot. He speed walks to the reception only nudging one person of out the way to get here as quickly as possible.

He asks for your room number and ward before breaking out into another run when he gets the answer.

Admiral Simpson and a ton of police officers and random other officials stand in the corridor and Jake knows that means you're in the room behind them.

"Lieutenant Seresin?" One of the police officers asks.

Jake nods, "Hi."

"You're right, he does look like the picture." One of the others says to Cyclone.

"Before we take you in to identify her, please can you come with us to somewhere more private?" Cyclone asks.

"Yes Sir." Jake responds.

Jake cannot sit still as the detectives start talking. He's aware that everyone in the room is hyper focused on him so he will not stop twitching.

"Can I see the locket?" He questions nervously.

Jake can see a crushed looking pendant but nothing more as the detective reaches for it.

They push it towards him on the table and Jake could cry looking at the state of your first anniversary present.

"That's Nova's" He confirms opening the plastic bag to have a better look.

"That's us moving me into her really old apartment." Jake elaborates.

"I was told she was killed in action." Jake says tears silently falling down his face.

He sniffs and wipes them angrily away.

"We don't know that the woman in that room is her, but whoever that is we think they were POW." Cyclone theorises.

"When she went down she was with her weapons system officer - was anyone else in the plane?" Jake asks.

"Yes. Someone was in the back seat but they were dead long before the paramedics got there." One of the officers responds.

"We don't know if it was Ghost - they are comparing his DNA to the database" Cyclone admits.

"How did he die?" Jake's voice cracks.

"The plane had taken quite a bit of fire - the canopy was broken. The man on the backseat was struck by some of the glass." The police inform him.

Jake shivers from the thought of the world's happiest WSO dying of blood loss - at the thought of you having to sit there and listen to that.

He stands up not wanting to hear anything else.

"Can I see her?" Jake queries, not beyond begging if anyone objects.

"Not before we talk about the kid." a random lady chirps.

"What kid?" Jake counters feeling bile rise in his throat at the prospect that you might have a kid that isn't his.

"He's too old to be hers; let him go see her." Cyclone says to the officers.

Jake raises his eyebrows in confusion but they gesture that he's free to leave so he doesn't delay this any longer and starts striding towards your room.

"I need to warn you that despite surgery - this is quite shocking." Cyclone says holding the door handle, "She's been put into a medically induced coma to try and reduce some of the swelling."

Jake nods not really hearing him.

I need to know if this is you.

Admiral Simpson carefully opens the door at lets Jake through.

Jake looks at your face and he doesn't recognise you.

The bruising is obscene - this person's face is purple and yellow.

Thank god she's unconscious because I can't imagine how painful this would be.

"Is it her?" Cyclone asks as Jake steps closer.

Jake refuses to admit that even he cannot tell from looking at your face. Your features are too swollen to properly see.

His hands shake as he brushes some of your hair out of the way to look under your ear for a scar you got learning to ride a bike as a kid.

He uses his free hand to rub the tears from his eyes.

It's there. The scar he's kissed a thousand times.

He pulls back, lip trembling in the horror that anyone would hurt you so much that he cannot recognise you.

"It's her." Jake verbalises as he takes you hand.

The whole world melts away behind him as he stares at what's been done to you and actually takes it in.

"You're okay sweets, I'm here. I've got you." Jake whispers running his thumb across the back of your hand.

Part 3 if you missed it

Part 5

Masterlist

@inthestars-underthesun

@rainy-darling

#jake seresin #tgm #top gun #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman fic #hangman imagine #hangman x reader #hangman angst #top gun au #top gun x reader #top gun hangman #hangman #top gun fic #top gun maverick #tgm fic #tgm x reader #tgm au

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mvltixcc · 3 months

Text

Girls Like Girls - Robin Buckley X Cheerleader!Reader

Summary: Robin has a crush on the new girl in town. Y/N is also a new member of the cheer squad, which means Robin sees her all the time at games and other school events. Unfortunately, Robin is put in a tough situation. She's scared to talk to her because the cheerleaders have a reputation of being mean girls and she fears that Y/N may not feel the same. Little does Robin know that Y/N does not appear as she seems. Y/N becomes best friends with Eddie, which seems unlikely at the surface due to different social circles. This leads to rumors of course and word spreads like wildfire here at Hawkins, which then makes Robin's feelings even more confusing. After hanging out with Steve and the gang, Robin starts to see a different side to Y/N. Will they end up together or will they just remain friends?

Word Count: 3.4k

A/N: When I mention 'Sam' in my story, I'm talking about the girl in this photo. She was never in the story of the show but I wanted to add another girl to the group and this photo helped capture what I needed.

Pinterest board for inspiration

Chapter 7

“Nancy, no offense, but you are no help. None of these look good on me.” Robin stated as she stood in front of the large mirror trying on dresses. She lost track of how many she tried on. None of them stood out to her and she didn’t feel like herself in them.

“Well maybe we just need to keep looking?” Nancy suggested. Robin stood there fidgeting in the fabric and making a sour face. Nancy could tell something wasn’t right. Luckily she knew how to fix it. “You know what, why don’t you change back into your clothes and then meet me back here.” Nancy said. Robin sighed in relief and went back to change. Nancy left Robin and walked to the front counter. “Hi excuse me, is there any chance I can use your phone please?” Nancy asked the employee. She nods and hands Nancy the phone.

“Steve?”

“Yes?”

“Hey it’s Nancy, are you busy?”

“What are you doing here?” Robin asked as she saw Steve standing next to Nancy.

“Nancy here thought you may need some help finding the right outfit for prom and a dress just won’t cut it, so that’s where I come in. I’m gonna take you shopping to help you find what suits you.” Steve said with a smile.

“I am relinquishing my duties and passing them off to Steve.” Nancy said with a chuckle.

“Let’s get this show on the road, Buckley!” Steve said, clapping walking toward the exit.

“I’m coming dingus!” Robin laughed and followed behind.

The two sat in the car on the way to the next shop. “So if you’re not taking me dress shopping, then where are you taking me?” Robin questioned.

“You’ll see Buckley, be patient.” Steve said as he continued to drive to the destination.

“I don’t see why I can’t just go with Y/N, she is my date after all and I care about looking nice for her.” Robin said, rolling her eyes.

“You think I won’t find something that makes you look nice? Do you know who you’re talking to?” Steve asked jokingly.

“You know what I mean, you’re a guy. How exactly can you help me with this?” Robin continued.

“Robin, I know you better than most people do. Why do you think Nancy called me in the first place? You are not a dress kind of girl, you and I both know that. But, we can find something else that works for you and what you’re comfortable with.” Steve said.

“Yeah I guess you’re right.” Robin said.

“I’m sorry, what was that? I was what?” Steve joked.

“Alright Harrington don’t push it.” Robin laughed and gave her friend a light shove.

“Okay okay, we’re here anyways.” He laughed and pulled into a parking space. Robin looked up at the sign with a puzzled look. “What? What’s the matter?” Steve asked.

“Why are we at the Men’s Factory? I thought we were looking for clothes, not tools.” Robin questioned.

“Are you serious?” Steve said. “Robin, this isn’t- dear god help me.” He sighed.

“What?” Robin asked.

The pair got out of the car and walked into the store, Robin was soon hit with the realization that it was in fact NOT a home improvement store. It was a store full of all different kinds of suits. Steve and Robin walked around hoping something would jump out to her. But so far nothing.

“What about this one?” Steve asked, holding up a brown suit.

“Oh god no.” Robin said, making a sour face.

They continued to walk around, going from suit to suit. Trying things on left and right, until they found THE one. It was a nice white button up, a black tie with a black vest, and dress pants to match.

“This is it. This is the one.” Robin said as she stood in front of the mirror. She loved how she not only looked, but how she felt as well. She felt like herself and that’s what matters the most.

As she checked out she couldn’t help but think about you. She hoped you were having a good time shopping for the right dress.

“Can you all stop running around and sit the hell down!” Sam yelled at the rest of the guys as they ran around the store trying to help you find the right dress.

“This is not it.” You said walking out in a bright yellow gown. “I look like a banana!”

“I think you look like a lovely banana!” Gareth said as he stood next to you in the mirror.

“Well of course you’d say that, you picked this one out in the first place!” You chuckled to him. You turned around and saw a few of the boys holding up more colorful dresses. “Why do you people want me to look like a fruit salad?”

“You people clearly don’t know her at all.” Sam stated walking over to the rest of you. “Stop trying to put her in bright colors, you all should know that Y/N doesn’t like that kind of stuff!” Sam proclaimed.

The group continued to look around to find you a dress. Nothing stood out to you. You got changed and walked out to the rest of your friends. “Let’s just go to the next store and be done.” You were getting frustrated that you couldn’t find anything. You had already tried 2 other shops and you were getting tired. The group had agreed and you all climbed into Eddie’s van and went to the next store.

“So where are we off to now?” Eddie asked you quietly to not let the others hear. He knew that if they did they would suggest another dress shop.

“Can we just go to the thrift store? I really don't need anything fancy, that’s not even my type of style.” You replied.

“Trust me I know that.” He chuckled. “We’ll find you something, don't worry.” He reassured you.

“What are we doing here?” Jeff asked as you guys pulled up to the thrift shop.

“Guys I really don’t need a ball gown or anything fancy. I just wanna look and feel nice while having a good time with my girlfriend.” You said walking into the store. They agreed to help you find something that was more ‘you’.

You all walked around and found random items like necklaces and bracelets. But no dress yet. Until you heard Sam screech. “THIS IS IT!”

She ran to you and huffed and puffed as she showed you the dress. You took the item and went to try it on. You stood in front of the mirror and you knew as soon as you put it on that it was the one. You walked out of the changing room to show everyone the dress.

“It’s perfect!” Sam exclaimed.

Most of the boys stood in awe.

“You look beautiful.” Eddie said, walking up to you. He looked at you tearfully.

“Thanks, Eds.” You turned to hug him. “Everything is gonna be perfect.” You were now even more excited to go to the prom with Robin.

You finished getting ready and made your way downstairs as you waited for Robin to arrive for pictures. You were nervous to say the least, you just wanted everything to be perfect for the pair of you.

“You look beautiful Y/N!” Your nana stated as she stood in front of you. She pulled you in for a hug.

“Thank you Nan!” You said, hugging her back.

“Alright let’s get some pictures with you and Eddie!” She suggested. You nodded and made your way outside, Eddie following behind shortly after.

As you and Eddie had finished taking pictures, Steve pulled into the driveway. Robin jumped out before he could even fully park the car. “God Buckley, would you be careful?” Steve said sarcastically.

Robin didn’t care though. She was too excited to see just how beautiful you looked and boy was she right. You looked breathtaking. “Wow.” was all she managed to spew out. Robin stood there in awe as you had approached her.

“Hi buttercup! Well look at you, you look absolutely perfect!” You said as you pulled your girlfriend in for a hug. You pulled away from the hug soon after. “Is that for me?” You ask as you point to the box in Robin’s hands.

“What? Oh uh yeah, this is for you!” Robin said with excitement. It was a corsage that matched your dress. Robin had been asking all week what your dress looked like, she was too eager and wanted to know everything. Knowing that she would ask until your ears fell off, you gave in and told her about the color of your dress.

“It’s beautiful Robin!” You exclaimed. “Wanna help me put it on?” You asked. She nodded and took it out of the box and helped you put it on your wrist.

“It’s not too tight is it? Or too big? I wasn’t sure-” Robin began to ramble.

“It’s perfect!” You said giving her a soft peck on the cheek. You could see her cheeks turning red which caused you to chuckle. “I have something for you too!” You turned to Eddie who was standing behind you with a box similar to the one that Robin had and took it from him. You opened it to reveal a matching boutonniere. You helped Robin put it on. “There, now we match!” You said with excitement.

“You guys look great!” Steve complimented as he approached the pair of you. “Wait, why are you all dressed up?” He asked, pointing to Eddie.

“Oh please this is hardly even dressed up!” Eddie proclaimed. He wore a simple black dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up and some dark jeans. He also paired it with some boots and his usual jewelry.

“It’s dressed up for you!” You chuckled.

“That still doesn’t answer the question though.” Steve said.

“Eddie’s also going, I thought you-” Steve interrupted you.

“Well how come he gets to go and I don't?!” Steve pouted.

“Maybe because I’m still a student there?” Eddie laughed. “Plus I’m not even going in, I’m gonna be sitting in my van making sure nothing happens to them.”

“Why don’t you come with Steve? I’m sure Eddie could use the company.” Robin suggested.

“Oh I don’t think-” Both Eddie and Steve said in unison.

“That’s a great idea!” You proclaimed.

“Alright alright, let’s get these pictures taken so you kids can be on your way!” Your nana said as she held the camera up.

You and Robin took your pictures and soon you all loaded into Eddie’s van and made your way to the school.

“If anything happens you just get Sam and she’ll come get me, okay?” Eddie said going over the plan again.

“Yes yes I got it! Okay we’re going in now.” You said, you were eager to get in and have a good time with your girlfriend. “Just promise me you wont kill each other?” You asked before closing the van door.

“Yeah yeah we promise.” The two said in unison once again.

“Okay, let's do this!” You say, closing the van door and taking Robin’s hand as you walked toward the doors. The two of you stood at the doors for a moment, preparing for the night ahead of you. “You ready my love?” You asked, looking at Robin.

“As I’ll ever be.” She replied nervously. She wanted this night to be special for you both.

You opened the doors and walked into the gym. It was magical. All the lights and beautiful decorations that lined the room really brought it all together. You made your way over to Sam and her date who was grabbing some punch.

“Hey guys!” You greeted your friend.

“Wow you two look amazing!” Sam complemented you both.

“Thanks, you guys look great too!” Robin thanked.

“We’ll be keeping a close eye on you guys throughout the night. Now go out there and have a good time with each other!” Sam spoke.

You said your goodbyes and you both made your way to the dance floor.

Everything was going great. You and Robin were dancing and singing your heart out. You both had danced with some friends as well. The both of you were now at a table eating snacks and just talking about the night so far. As you were talking with one another, a slow song started to play. You both make your way to the dance floor to have a special moment. There you are in the middle of the gym, holding one another and just enjoying each other. This night was perfect. Or so you thought.

“Well look at you two, how adorable!” Chrissy said as she approached the two of you.

“Can’t you leave us alone for one night Cunningham?” You asked in annoyance.

“I come in peace I promise!” She stated with her hands up.

“Uh huh, I’m sure you do.” Robin said also now annoyed at this point.

“Honest I swear! Look I know that things aren’t so great between us, but I just wanted to offer your spot back to you on the team!” Chrissy began as she turned to look at you.

Chrissy continued to go on and on about some random bullshit as she does when suddenly Robin felt something wet fall onto her hand. She looked down to see a droplet of red. Robin looked above and saw what appeared to be a bucket with some rope tied around it on the rafters above you both. She turned to the left to see the other cheer squad members laughing with one another holding onto the rope that was attached to the bucket. She turned to you to get your attention.

“We have to go, like now!” Robin whispered in your ear.

You looked at her and could see that she was serious. You nodded to her. “Well you know Chrissy, this little chit chat was fun and all, but I think we’re gonna head out now. You and Jason go have a fun time now!” You say trying to get away from her.

Chrissy tried to get you both to stay and talk with her, but despite her efforts you both weren’t budging and kept walking away. This made her extremely mad and her demeanor changed. “Ugh god get back here NOW!” She yelled at you.

As you turned around to face her, you saw red liquid falling from the ceiling. Robin pulled you out of the way as it came down. It all fell directly onto Chrissy. “What in the Carrie?” You said to yourself as you watched the scene in front of you. The gym fell silent at this point. A few other people were hit with whatever was in the bucket, but it was mostly all over Chrissy. The realization had hit her like a truck and she began to scream off the top of her lungs. You both made your way out of the gym and booked it for Eddie’s van.

“No no no Lord of the Rings is so much better than that!” Eddie proclaimed.

“God you are such a nerd!” Steve laughed. Suddenly the van door swung open. “Whoa whoa what happened? Are you both okay?” Steve asked as you and Robin jumped into the van and slammed the door shut. You were both out of breath from running.

“Well considering the fact that we almost got Carrie’d!” Robin exclaimed while trying to catch her breath.

“Huh?” Steve questioned.

“My god Harrington do you seriously not watch movies?” Eddie teased.

“Okay we can pick on Steve about that later!” You stated trying to get to the point.

“Hey!” Steve proclaimed.

“Chrissy tried to pour a bucket of-” You began.

“Pigs blood?!?” Eddie squealed.

“No! Now let me finish you goose!” You laughed. “It looked like I don’t know-”

“Red paint!” Robin stated.

“How do you know?” Steve asked, turning back to the both of you as Eddie drove you all back to your place.

“The way it stained my hand is the same way that paint does. Can’t imagine what she’s gonna look like after this.” Robin said.

“What I wanna know is how the hell did you guys not get hit with that?” Eddie asked.

“Robin was the one that got me out of there.” You said.

“I felt something wet on my hand and saw the red. Then I looked up and saw the bucket that the cheerleaders were tugging at with a rope across the gym.” Robin replied.

“That was some quick thinking there Buckley, nice job.” Eddie said, giving Robin props.

“Thanks Eddie.” She said with a smile.

“Now as for you!” You said poking Steve. “I can’t believe you haven’t seen Carrie!”

“I keep telling him he needs to watch it!” Robin chuckled.

“Okay you know what!” Steve stated.

“Thanks for the ride Ed’s, drive safe now okay?” You said as you stood at the driver side window of the van.

“Hey, I’m here anytime and I will try my best.” He laughed.

“Edward!” You yelled.

“Okay okay, I’ll drive safe! You go and get some sleep.” Eddie said. You said your goodbyes and Eddie drove off. You made your way over to Robin to say goodbye to her as well.

“Well despite everything that just happened, I had a really good time with you tonight. I’m really glad that we went.” You giggled.

“Yeah me too, it was a really special night that I definitely will never forget!” She laughed back.

Robin pulled you close and wrapped her arms around you. “Though, to be fair every moment with you is special because I get to spend it with my beautiful girlfriend.” Robin spoke softly. You began to turn a bright shade of pink. “Aww is someone blushing?” She teased, you put your head into her neck to hide the flustered expression on your face.

You pulled away and looked at her for a moment. “I love you so much.” You professed.

“I love you too, my sweet angel.” She said, smiling back at you.

Robin pulled you in one more time, but this time it was to give you a kiss. Every time you would kiss each other, it was instant sparks. She loved how soft your lips were against hers. Robin pulled you closer to deepen the kiss. She didn’t want this night to end, but that thought was soon interrupted by Steve coughing loudly indicating that it was time to go.

You pulled away from one another shortly after. “Well, I guess I’ll see you on Sunday for our usual breakfast date.” Robin said as she gently kissed your cheek.

“I’ll pick you up at the usual time!” You giggled.

“You sleep well, okay love bug?” Robin suggested.

“I will, you better sleep well too!” You replied.

“I promise, scouts honor!” Robin said, holding up her hand.

“I’ll see you Sunday you goose.” You chuckled and said your goodbyes.

Once Steve left, you went inside and decompressed from the night you just had. As you lay in bed thinking about how perfect the night was, you began to drift off into a peaceful sleep.

Next chapter

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viviennevermillion · 1 year

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Beauty and the Beast

notes: this came to me in a dream....well, sorta. listen to this beautiful version of the song "Beauty and the Beast" by Karliene!

contains: capitano x gn!reader

warnings: none!

The Captain was feared by many. From his current homeland of Snezhnaya to the far edges of Teyvat, he was known to be a menace on the battlefield. Mysterious, never revealing his face or true identity and never leaving any traces that could have you guessing at who the man was behind the mask truly was. If there were more witnesses to his missions aside from the loyal Fatui soldiers, the Captain mused he surely would have become some sort of boogeyman by now; a story to tell your children to make sure they don't just go running off on their own or; considering the creative liberties some of their parents might take making up stories about the fearsome warrior; dont leave the house at all for at least three weeks.

Everyone was always wary of the Captain. They kept their distance from him unless they were called closer. After all, wasn't it better to be safe than sorry? Granted, a lot of the commonfolk would fear the harbingers given their position in the Tsaritsa's court. But even among those who were regarded as brave by their peers, few would be mad enough to willingly get closer to any of the high-ranking ones. Such was the path fate seemed to have laid out for Capitano and he was sure that he was meant to walk it alone. To do his duty, follow his principles; even when others were quick to disregard them and believe the tall man had no such thing as values or a sense of kindness in his heart.

It was easy to brush off the unknown and the powerful as monsters and killing machines. It was a familiar response to that which people struggled to grasp, even when Capitano handed out soup for all his subordinates in the cold dead of winter nights, when they had been sent on a mission. Even when he sent the injured home rather than using them as cannon fodder on the battlefield. Even when some of the Fatui soldiers walked by to see Capitano tend to the palace garden, trying to give some life back to the soils of Teyvat after all the deaths that had occured in the wars and conflict he led his subordinates into. One could always find an explanation for his behavior without having to jump to the conclusion that the Captain was capable of caring and nurturing life other than his own.

And then there was you. You, who caught him off-guard by simply approaching him as if he was just one of the many souls you met in your day-to-day life. You showed no sign of fear towards him. He'd have brushed you off as naive if he didn't know better. But then again, what was so bad about giving a chance to someone like him?

Capitano always tried to appear less intimidating when he was around you; scared of losing something he never even noticed he was lacking. Kindness and attention from another. Someone who genuinely wanted to get to know him. And so, how could he not indulge you? Over the passing of days and months you learnt many things about him he hadn't shown to anyone in a long time. Maybe he would have, if someone had only dared to ask.

You learnt that he liked taking care of Zapolyarny Palace's vibrant garden a little once in a while; although he admitted that sometimes he messed up and destroyed some of the flowers on accident because of his sheer physical strength.

You learnt that he liked collecting trinkets from his travels; the walls of his room being ornated with several ships in bottles, ancient maps, trophies and photographs of places he had been to. Death seemed to follow a man like Capitano like a shadow at his heels; his shoes seemed to be made to pound the pavement and trample everything in their wake. The objects he brought home with him reminded him that life was also all around him. That almost every place he went to had been touched by humans and their unwavering curiosity and relentlessness. He quite enjoyed telling some of the stories behind them to you. Relaying what he had learnt and observed about civilization to someone he hoped considered him a kindred soul.

You learnt that he made some crafts in his freetime and enjoyed reading biographies of famous travelers.

You learnt that behind that mask; behind his power and status, Capitano was just a man. From the first time you saw him, Capitano felt like that was the only thing you ever looked at. The man behind the mask. Like you beckoned him to come closer and tell you his story; to rest his weary bones from battle and enjoy the moments you were able to spend together.

Ever since he became a harbinger, Capitano had never seen much reason to take off his mask in the presence of another person. For what were they to see, but another face of evil?

Besides, it protected his identity and gave him an additional aura of authority; not that he particularly needed it.

But when he took that mask off before you for the first time; when he showed you the raw emotion his face never had to hide for as long as he was wearing his helmet; showed you the battle scars that lined his features and the face so many had theorized about and feared despite never having caught a glimpse of it; all you did was call him beautiful. Accepted him as he was and affirmed to him that you liked what you saw.

When you cupped his face for the first time; the first touch he had received like that in many, many years; Capitano melted into your touch as if you were his salvation.

Now, after years of fighting and wandering the earth, he had finally arrived at a place he could call home.

He chuckled at how you handled him as if he was the one needing protection.

It's something different, he mused, I needed something different.

He readily accepted your love and affection with open arms; from the featherlight kisses you blessed his face with to the way you'd cherish the flowers he had grown himself in the garden and the stories he told you about the world.

Now, even in his hardest battles, death was nothing but a distant voice; for life resided in the heart you had given him to protect and he was reminded of you a little by almost everything around him. Of the nights you spent resting in his arms, the evenings you had danced with him through the empty ballrooms of the castle; teasing him with a reminder to not step on your feet; and of the taste of your lips.

One day, he knew, he'd bring a ring home to you to ask him to stay by his side forever.

"Thank you", he told you as he pressed a warm, soft kiss to your cheek, "for not seeing me as a monster. For taking the time and patience to get to know me. For loving me as I am, just as lost as anyone, really." And you had taken his hand and sworn that you would always love him. Even in this ever-changing world, when the sun has set and risen again a million times, the storms had raged across the land and the sky had shifted; still your love lived on.

#genshin impact #il capitano x reader #capitano x reader #il capitano #capitano fluff #genshin impact x reader

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mx-jinxous · 6 months

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Part 4

The tension was thick enough to attract the attention of the occupants of the garden. Steve violently gripped the blindfold in his hand as his glare set upon the king. He expected the coy man to snap a comment, take a chance to belittle him with a snide comment. Instead, the king took him by surprise by taking a step aside, holding a hand out. He directed the younger man back towards the way he had come from, smiling at him.

“If you are done playing amongst the children, we are due for a meeting.” Steve scoffed, handing the blindfold to Joyce, who stood to follow, only for Kas to hold a hand up to her. “This is only for a party of two at the moment.”

“And by that, you mean you, me, and Sir Tincan.”

“I mean what I say. Just you and I.” Gareth sputtered, the king sending a side glance that seemed to be enough to silence the guard. “Come, let us take a stroll.”

Steve was wary, but led the way, hearing the king’s steps follow behind him, expecting some type of ambush once they passed the corner. However, the only thing that came from the Kas was a yawn followed by a chuckle. “What energy you must have to keep up with the little rascals? You must come from a full family.”

“Stop.” Steve growled, whipping around to glare at the king. He stopped only inches from his face, the younger’s hot breath brushing against his lips. “Stop this niceness charade. You ask your questions, I’ll ask mine. Just enough of this back-and-forth bullshit.”

A moment of silence passed with their eyes locked, trying to gauge one another before Kas brought a hand up to the younger’s chest before pressing him back. “You have one of the most confusing vocabularies I have heard. I am trying to be kind, allow you freedom to speak your mind, and find comfort in the unfortunate hand you have been dealt.”

“Sounds like Stockholm Syndrome in the making to me.” Kas raised a brow, but shook off the uncertainty.

“None of what I said is untrue. As a show of good faith, I will answer questions you have honestly.” Steve hummed, making a show of thinking over his options, though he knew there was no real debate.

“Fine. Lead the way and we’ll chat.” With a smirk, Kas took the lead, taking him to a lounge. The younger man nearly walked into the king when he halted in front of the door, dramatically throwing open the double doors. The room was plain, just a few sofas, a table between them. Kas entered first, going over to an ice bucket and pulled a bottle of wine before flopping gracelessly on a settee, all before Steve joined him. Kas held his hand out to the adjoining sofa, crossing his arms as he stared at the man expectantly. He popped the cork without struggling and took a swig, offering it to the scowling younger man. He withdrew the offered bottle before resting back, locking eyes once more, then he took another drink.

“So, how do you want to do this? A round of 20 questions before we begin a yelling match.”

“I want to be civil, so I ask you not to taunt my generosity and to be forthcoming. Please, ask any question.” Resting back against the settee, Kas got comfortable, ready for any ounce of time.

Steve was silent for a moment to ponder over the many questions that circulated through his mind and the ever-growing list. Yet, one was more prominent than the others, glimmering on his wrist between the both of them. “What is the big deal about this bracelet? It’s strange that you all are so focused on a trinket when this place is loaded with jewelry, so what is so important about this?”

That seemed to be the right question to lead with, giving the king gagged on his wine, face going as red as the liquor. He took a moment to right himself, eyes fluttering between his clothing and the room, everywhere other than Steve. Clearing his throat, he looked up at his guest. “Before I share my reasoning, I need the truth about how you obtained it.”

“I told you the truth. You gave it to me-.” The king opened his mouth, only to be silenced when a glare locked on him. “But after my conversation with Brenner, I think I’ve summed up that what gave me this wasn’t really you. It was a stone a-a-a gargoyle?”

“Do you mean a golem?”

“Yes! A stone person bewitched with rules to follow.”

“That would be a golem, also it is enchanted. Witch is a degrading term most foul. Do be better with words in my kingdom.” The last part came out as a growl. A shiver ran down Steve’s spine, unclear whether it was a fearful reaction or something else.

“Geez, my bad. It’s not like anyone told me and I’m kind of new to this. Can we get back on topic?” With a nod from Kas, Steve continued. “Full transparency, I’m not from here, time wise. One minute I’m at work getting robbed, the next I’m shoved in a coffin by golem you, and I’m here.”

“And the bracelet?”

“He slapped it on my wrist, I don’t know why or how I got here, but I’m here and probably fired from my job.” He grumbled the last part, but it went over the king’s head as he seemed deep in thought.

“Hm, it sounds as if some powerful magic is at play. A statue of a king is only constructed to watch over their bodies, which means that I no longer exist in your time. It would make sense to have a statue then and whom ever enchanted it would have had to leave a magical trace. It is possibly the same person that enchanted the bracelet. I do not understand who would task the golem to give you the bracelet.” Kas explained, eyes burrowing into Steve’s.

“As part of our culture, each member of the royal family has expectations, one of which is marriage. As a vow of loyalty and sign of love, a bracelet it cast as an engagement announcement. My bracelet went missing from my room, so I assumed when you appeared with it that you were the culprit. My uncle would not be pleased to find I have misplaced it in his absence.”

“So I’m wearing your wedding present?” The young boy asked, staring down at the bejeweled bracelet.

“That is correct. It is a sign of unity and as we speak, my uncle is out making treaties and using my hand as a bargaining piece.” Kas huffed, the settee taking his full weight as he slumped back.

“That sucks.” He mumbled to the king, his mind reflecting on the similar situation that got him into his current circumstance.

“It is to be expected if I am to take over the throne one day. I gave my permission when he asked because I understand what is expected of me.” He hummed, eyes drifting towards the bracelet. For how demanding he had been to retrieve it, his eyes betrayed the surrender and remorse from Steve.

The young man felt the rough tension ease for the first time between them as the mood seemed to damper on the topic. “I guess that explains the looks and the offers of free stuff?”

“Wait. What do you mean? How many people saw you wearing my bracelet?” Kas seemed spooked, in near panic.

“I went through a market, talked to several jewelers, anyone that claimed they could break the spell. No luck, but got a lot of congratulations and offers.”

“Oh lords. This is pure embarrassment!” Kas groaned, throwing his head back as he raked his hands over his face. “My uncle will be bringing it up till day one of us parishes.”

“Geez, don’t be so melodramatic. We’ll just tell people it was an accident and we’re not engaged.”

“And risk scandalizing the crown! I think not! My uncle would have my head!” Steve was unease with how unsettled the king had been. “No, you will have to cover it in public. I cannot risk news of my engagement reaching my uncle.”

“So I’m just supposed to hide this bulky ass thing? How the hell do you expect I do that?”

“We will supply armor gauntlets that shall cover it.”

“Oh yay, more shackles.” Steve rolled his eyes, throwing his body onto the sofa. He was sure he resembled a pouting child with his crossed arm, but he felt he’s justified with how he’d been thrown into this ridiculous mess.

“It is for your safety as much as my family’s image. Being seen as my betrothed has put a mark on your back. No king has reigned in everyone’s favor. I would suggest not venturing out of the castle walls much. However, if you do, take a guard with you.” Steve wanted to argue, to throw a fit, but he knew the king was being honest.

Regardless of his predicament, Steve understood and agreed with the king’s reasoning. With a sigh, he sat straight once more before locking eyes with the older man.

“Fine, but I have my own terms to these conditions.”

“As you should. Share them with me.”

“Firstly, I will not be staying here under constant monitoring. Mrs. Joyce has invited me to stay with her and I’m going to take her up on it. Secondly, I won’t just be sitting around here every day.”

“If you want a job, I can give you one. All you have to do is say yes. The guard is always looking for help.”

“No. I don’t want to work like that. Maybe I can help Joyce.”

“She has several assistants. However, the children run amok after classes and they are full of unbalanced magic and the energy to disperse it. They do require a caretaker.” Kas offered, picking the wine back up to take another swig.

“So… babysitting?”

“Oh lords no!” The king gasped, horror expressed on his face. “They may cross lines and be pains in the ass, but please do not sit on them!”

“That’s not-!” Steve groaned, massaging his temple. “Nevermind. I’ll do it. They seemed like good kids, anyway.”

“Wonderful! Once you get settled into Joyce’s home, we will properly introduce you to all of them. From there, you can conclude the proper way to handle them with their unique personalities and abilities. However, I must ask.” A coy smile came to Kas’ lips as he leaned back into his chair. “As we are in this circumstance together, and as a modesty to one another, do I get to know the name of my betrothed?”

“Nope. If you want to know my name, then you’ll have to earn it. Think of it as trying to get into my good graces.” A chuckle left Kas’s lips, eyes falling onto the younger.

“Earning one’s name, a romantic challenge.” Steve scoffed, standing with a roll of his eyes.

“It’s not a challenge.”

“Nonsense! I shall earn the name of my betrothed like a worthy king.” Kas fell back, draping his body across the settee, hand resting on his forehead. Steve snorted, turning back to face the door to hide the blush that she was sure painting his cheeks.

“Don’t say it like that, dude! If we are done, I’m grabbing what is mine to move to Joyce’s.”

“Very well. I would suggest getting to know the older kids since you will be living with one, if not two.”

“The ones that helped Joyce nurse me back to health?”

“Young Master Byers is her son and apprentice. The grounds keeper can be found keeping him company at any hour rather than keeping the garden most days.” The king stretched before standing, setting the bottle down on the table. “I do believe the day is still young and I have a day filled with meetings, so if you have no other terms, then I believe our time is up. We will speak more about other matters tomorrow?” Steve gave a nod before standing by himself. “Very well, until tomorrow, Curantis.”

Another scoff left the young boy as he turned to walk to the door. A yelp echoed as he pushed it open, nearly smacking one of the children with the heavy door. Blue eyes glared up at Steve through a mess of curls from where the boy had fallen. The older expected screaming and crying, yet he just stood up and brushed himself off, picking up his book that skidded away. Steve contemplated asking if he was alright or take his unbothered state as confirmation when Kas spoke up.

“Dustin, I have warned you not to stand close to doors. You have come too close to losing your head way too often. Lady luck will not always be so generous.”

“I was not hovering! I was looking for you! The newest edition of “A Knight’s Quest” has arrived from the author. I have been waiting for your business to conclude to come read it.”

“I am sorry, Dusty, but my day is packed. My uncle will shake me dead if I shirk my responsibilities.” The young boy deflated almost immediately.

“But you said that last time we were to hang out.” The defeat in the boys sent a familiar chill down Steve’s spine. It was like he was witnessing his childhood, holding his favorite book, with a broken heart as his mother belittled his childish ways. It was his first heartbreak, but he learned his first lesson of life, not to show weakness. He was lucky his father hadn’t been present because he would have been backhanded for his whining. Still, he pitied the boy and feared for him and his big mouth.

“Forget it then!” He growled, speeding off after throwing the book down at Kas’ feet. The king sighed, picking the book up, and placing it on the table beside the lounge door before turning his gaze back to Steve.

“Enjoy the rest of the day however you would like. I do have other business to attend to, as stated prior.” With that, he’d left the younger in the corridor, openly trusting him alone without a guard monitoring his every move. He hardly remembered the path they took, and he was sure Joyce was waiting for him. Without much other thought, he grabbed the book and did his best to retrace his steps.

His sign that he found the right path was the squeal of the children before he broke into the garden. They were chasing one another under the watch of the two teenagers. Joyce was nowhere in sight. He felt out of place amongst strangers that not ten minutes before he was chasing, his eyes drifting over the group to see if he had perhaps missed Joyce in the garden. With still no sight of her, he thought if maybe he should try to play another round of tag until she resurfaced, only for his eyes to scan over to a lonesome tree.

It was the curly-haired boy, now curled up with his chin on his arms, watching his friends play. It was that sight that made up his mind, walking to the younger, taking a seat beside the boy. Neither spoke, waiting for the other to address the new presence. Steve decided he’d have to start it, staring at the others running around in the flowers. “Why aren’t you playing?”

“Mike is a jerk. He said I am not allowed to join them since I originally chose literacy over activity. He is not letting me interrupt them.”

“That sucks. What about the others? What did they want?”

“They did not hear the conversation. To be honest, I am too mad to play safely. I do not expect you to understand. You are just a nobody.” Dustin growled, tucking his watering eyes into his forearm.

“Well, that’s rude. Don’t hold back. I’m just trying to be nice, but if you want to be a dick, I can just buzz off.”

“I do not require a nanny. If Mike wishes to be a horse’s ass, then I will go retrieve my book and read it by myself.” He made to stand, only to be stopped when Steve held the book up in his face.

“Figured if you wanted to read it with someone, I’m free. I could read it with you, but it may take a bit longer since I have dyslexia.”

‘What?”

“It’s a disorder from where I come from. The words move and it makes it hard to read.” A gasp left Dustin, the boy on his knees and grabbing the book.

“You have been cursed! We must have vast knowledge on breaking it.”

“Not a curse. It’s a disability. My brain just doesn’t work like yours, but I live with it. It’ll just take longer.”

“So an illness then?” The boy was confused, and Steve couldn’t help but smile at him.

“Nope, just a thing that some people have and there’s no real cure. However, I have done things to help me.”

“Do you have anyone to read to you?”

“Sorry, kid, but my parents were never that kind of parent. I had a nanny for a short period before my parents thought I could take care of myself. They just hated the fact that they would try to help, fire them when they wouldn’t stop babying me, their words not mine.”

“That’s cruel.” A silence fell over the two, only filled with the excited shouts from the other children. A breeze passed by, whipping Steve’s slightly longer locks across his face. He began to contemplate asking Joyce for a haircut when Dustin jumped up, making the older jump. “My mother taught me to read so I can read to you! What use is her teaching if I do not share? A read to the king when he gets too exhausted, but refuses to sleep until he reads the next chapter.”

“Your parents don’t mind you reading and following the king around?”

“My papa was a guard for his uncle, but not a good man. He tried trading his life for coin. I understand what it is like having a failure as a parent.”

“Shit kid. I’m guessing the king didn’t take kindly to that?” Steve pried, chancing a glance at Dustin with weighted eyes.

“On the contrary. My papa was killed in the betrayal and the king took mercy on my mother and I. She became a cook while I was offered classes with the others.”

“She seems like a lovely woman.” Shaking his head, Dustin snatched the older’s hand with a newfound excitement.

“Would you like to meet her!?”

“Oh. I don’t want to bother her.”

“She is not busy! Come!” With little to no fight, Steve was dragged through a path in the garden. As they went deeper, the laughter disappeared, replaced by tree leaves shaking. He had yet had the chance to wander around the castle grounds, so color him surprised when they found themselves in another opening filled with a fenced off smaller garden.

Dustin tore his way through the flora, dragging the older boy along with them until they came up to a stone among the flowers. It was clearly a statue of a woman, a plaque at her feet. It took Steve a moment to register what he was looking at. It was a grave marker. A new tension fell over the boys as the older looked down at the younger.

Dustin wore a sad smile as he knelt down, adjusting some flowers that had been placed there prior. “This is my mom. I come out to visit or read to her all the time.” He shifted, resting his back against the stone. Steve stared at the young boy, who was speaking to the grave about his day, trying to fight his tears that threatened to fall.

He sank down to join Dustin, letting the boy continue to ramble while he was trying to sort out the best line of questioning. When he’d finished giving a play-by-play of the day, a silence fell over the garden. Neither knew what to say next. It wasn’t until Steve cleared his throat that either boy looked at the other.

“W-What happened?” He was worried he was crossing a line, that he’d upset the boy, yet all he received was a huff.

“Illness. She contracted a disease and passed within a few months. Lady Joyce tried to heal her, unfortunately she was sick far too long. Kas took me under as a ward once she passed, giving me access to stay in the castle and the lessons provided. We have become like brothers.” A small smile played on Dustin’s face as he flipped the book open. “It stings that he has hardly had time to spend with me since taking over as king. Perhaps that is why he was so willing to have you nanny over us as an apology for having to abandon us.”

“That’s not true. He doesn’t trust me enough to let me have free rein. You’re on guard duty, whether you know it or not.” A smirk played across Steve’s lips as he nudged the younger playfully.

“Well then, we shall spend the time on how I see fit. I will read the tale of Knight Alderman.” A snort left the older boy, Steve, falling back in the grass to get comfortable. They were going to be there for a while.

Joyce opened the office door to the sight of Kas gazing out the wide window. He didn’t pull his eyes, only acknowledging her with a simple, “Please close the door.” It was a quiet moment before either spoke again.

“You summoned me?”

“Yes. I just talked to our guest, and he notified me that you offered him a place to sleep away from the castle.” Without a view of his face, Joyce tried to gauge his tone. It was tense, something she doesn’t normally hear from the young king.

“He is. I promised him a safe home life, one that was not blessed with. If you are wishing to use my generosity as a ruse to spy on him, I will not be doing so. Neither I, my children, nor my husband will take part in being the next to betray him. I owe him so much more for bringing my children’s torturer to justice, and I will do all in my power to protect him from those who wish him harm.” Kas held his hand up, silencing the women.

“I am not asking that of you, Joyce. He and I have had words and, much to the strangeness of his tale, I believe he is an unwilling participant. My uncle will not be happy when news reaches him about my unplanned betrothal, yet I worry more that his safety is now threatened.” Kas turned to face the woman, hair falling looser than it had been when she’d seen him a near hour ago.

“Brenner has tried, and others will as well. For his own protection, he shall never be alone outside the castle walls. Guards will be attached to him, much like any of you. To stave his boredom, he has been given the duty of curantis. He shall be known as such until he has deemed us worthy enough of his name and shall be watching over the children between classes. Until then, we shall research the magic cast on the bracelet. Do you have any objections?” Joyce didn’t miss the look in his eyes as he avoided hers, twirling a strand of hair in his fingers. It was a poor attempt to hide a blush that flushed his cheeks, and it downed on the woman.

A gentle smile came to her face as the tension fled from her. Without a word or hesitation, she closed the distance, cupping his cheeks in her hands, forcing him to look her in the eye. Many forgot that the king was just a child himself, barely older than her eldest, and that showed in his eyes.

“Oh Theodore. You have no need to fret because Hop will be with us as well as your choosing of guards. I will keep him under my eye and make sure he is protected. He is not such a bad person, just a scared child, much like you are. I know Wayne’s departure threw you into the role of Kas, but you are handling it the best of your ability. Regardless of how he finds out, he will not be disappointed or angry that your bracelet has found itself on a stranger. We judge actions first, consequences last. I will always be here to listen to any issues you need to share, ever since you first stepped into these castle walls.”

He smiled up at the woman, giving a reassuring squeeze to her hand before lowering their hands. “I appreciate the openness, Joyce, and I know my uncle will not hold it against me, but if we cannot remove the bracelet, then there are only two options. Neither is preferred and I am positive he would like to return home with all appendages.” He turned to face the window again, fingers returning to twirl his hair.

“If that is how you wish to approach this, then I will follow your lead. Now to find him.”

“That is no challenge.” Kas spoke, directing the woman’s gaze out the window. Joyce approached, looking out amongst the king’s private garden. There, laying hidden under the trees’ shadows, was her new ward. Curled up with him was Dustin, using the older boy’s stomach as a pillow, both sound asleep, bringing a doting smile to the healer’s lips.

“Dustin has seemed to bond quickly with him. That boy could befriend a rabid dog with simple curiosity.”

“That is part of his personality that charms people. He can worm his way into anyone’s heart.” The king smiled, just watching the two sleep.

“Oh dear, he is going to anger Nancy if he is late for another course.” There was no genuine worry in her voice as she dreaded having to wake them. “I hate to ruin such peace, but I do need to get Curantis home.”

“Very well. Take him out to the market for supplies. I will provide coin. He can watch the kids tomorrow.” With a nod, Joyce excused herself, heading out to the gardens to wake the boys.

#steddie #stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #setinstonesteddie #steve x eddie

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scribble-dribble-writes · 8 months

Text

The blue flame

<<<Prev (a surprising ally) (Burning nights) Next>>>

Pairing: Buggy x female mermaid reader

Word count: 4000

Warning: none

Content: The seas have decided to seal your fate

A hand clasped over your mouth as you caught sight of who it was, with his shiny eyes and pulled back blue hair, his other hand firmly planted in your abdomen guiding you back till you felt the wall behind you. Buggy grinned as he placed a finger over his mouth while he held you in place. His calloused fingertips feeling rough against your skin. A shadow passed by, clothed in stellar dark violet, the colour of the house Barracudons. You exhaled into his hand as you sunk into the wall of stone.

Poisoned tea in the afternoon, now a mercenary following you in the evening, today seemed to get better and better. Barracudons were known for their ties with gangs and thugs that it was certain they didn’t lack in their work force. Each member belonging to that household and lineage were skilled with deadly art forms from dancing with swords to making tapestry that combusted and many more.

Slyvesters loved to play games, take their time winding their hands around their target, Barracudons didn’t. They saw to it that their targets never slipped away and never let anything to fate. So this was not good, a hired mercenary was hot on your trail.

The Barracudons didn’t live within the castle, they had their own governing sect outside the walls. Every monarch knew that their control and administration only extended over the Banyans, Slyvesters, Nerroceans and the towns folk. Barracudons existed with their own hierarchy of power, but would never miss a chance to take over the castle if presented with an opportunity. Now you fit perfectly in that category.

But the ties between the houses broke because everyone blamed the Barracudons for the coup, the revolt that turned the nation’s fate around when they believed they had nothing to do with it. And so for years of being scorned, making you a target would allow them to feel avenged.

But as you stayed quite, with his hand clasped over your mouth, with Helge’s revelation that he had brought in Buggy for your comfort but also because of your trust in him running in the back of your mind. You knew you needed as many allies as you could get and that this moment was the closest to a respite you might actually get for now.

“You were being followed.”, he whispered.

You raised your eyebrow sarcastically as though he hadn’t just stated the obvious but also the image of him keeping watch over you made you feel more at ease, like you didn’t have to catch your breath in the anxiety. He was your personal knight, who had everyone distracted with his circus and drama.

“I was served poisoned tea a few hours ago too.”, you stated to which his eyes snapped to yours with evident shock written in them.

You couldn’t bear to leave him feel perplexed with anxious curiosity splattered across his face.

“Helge was the one who saved me.”, you whispered to which he eased but it had triggered his annoyance with how he rolled his tongue into his cheek.

“And I saved you from a mercenary.”, Buggy leaned in, his eyes now glimmering a deeper blue. You couldn’t help but give him a triumphant smile.

“You sound jealous.”, you whispered to which he placed his arms around you to trap you in his hold. His eyes dipping to your lips as his face inched closer to yours.

“I don’t like sharing the spotlight.”, he said his voice deliciously low as though he was talking about you, you wanted to laugh but you bit down on your lip to stop yourself.

You were a light unlike any other, every time your gaze was on him, he thrived. He thrummed with life as he did now in the shadows. Your dark eyes holding him hostage with a knowing look that only came with years of friendship and endless seconds of memorizing each other.

It amazed him how without his gloves to control him, his fingers itched to hold you. That even beyond all control his mind still grew irritated at the thought of you with anyone else. He leaned closer, his lips wanted to find yours again because he was yours, he was only yours and he wanted the world to know that. If he could make that extremely clear he wanted to. To wear a crown, to stand by your side and protect you, not an act, not for show, not for his ego but because he wanted to.

It was as simple as that and all those nights out on sea had helped him to arrive to this conclusion. That if he wished, he could receive the love he longer for as easily as just accepting he was free to choose a love he desired.

His eyes found yours as he observed you, you didn’t move away just as his lips hovered over yours. You held your ground, your hands held together as you drowned in the blue of his eyes. You watched him, his struggle as he tried to figure out what he wanted. The offer was simple. You wouldn’t go back to how it had been with spending nights together because it was clear that you were helping him get the crystal pearl while he worked as your spy.

All this time together was beginning to complicate things, you were letting your feelings run loose again knowing well how greatly the fall was going to shatter you. But the present was all the time you had, you knew that but now it looked like he was beginning to fight it, to wish for more.

“A penny for your thoughts?”, you tilted your head and his eyes slid to your lips again.

His feet didn’t want to run, in fact he had grown tired of it. Of his life being dictated by the currents of the sea, his aimless search for the one piece, no, now his desires were pivoting. They were sober and it freaked him out. His dreams were never sober, it was always a little extravagant.

But with you here, trapped within his arms with a lopsided grin, his desires had changed now. It was softer, it was quieter, now he didn’t need to declare anything with confetti or a mirrorball. It was silent and stable and maddening because he wanted you to say the words. In the hopes that he could know that his thoughts were in the right place.

But all this while, you had never asked him to stay once. He wanted the life you had planned, the slower pace that gave him time to enjoy holding your hand and being next to you. While now you were the one with larger plans caught in a tangle between death and inheritances.

However, the more he tried to remind himself this was a working relationship he only dug the pit deeper. He had to hold himself strong. All it took to ruin him was one night in your arms and he would unravel for good.

“I want you to know I’m here,”, he swallowed as he found your gaze.

“to remind you, that you’re more than your past. You don’t have to be afraid.”, he said his voice quiet enough for you to hear.

“What makes you think I’m afraid?”, you questioned, your voice in the same decibel as his.

“I know you.”, he smiled.

“Which makes it impossible for you to hide from me.”, he said further and it made your stomach flip because he was right. You were nervous.

He was making this more difficult, to not dream of him and a life here. To have stolen time like this, to keep wondering what it was that he wanted. The pearl or you. But the plans of running away with him were not possible anymore, with everything that had happened since this morning.

“I don’t think I’ll be able to leave with you anymore, Buggy.”, you said as you tried to hide your sadness.

“The more I try to run from it, the more it feels like my purpose is here. I’m meant to be on that throne.”, you looked away, scared he was going to hate you for it.

Instead he nodded, feeling relieved and troubled at the same time.

His eyes boring into yours as though he wanted you to say something else, to ask for more that you deserved.

But could you?

Could you ask him to stay here with you?

Impossible.

It was going to be impossible for him to leave now. Cause you were here and with that this island had become the center of his universe.

So he waited holding his breath, one word, one question to slip from your lips and he was willing to take up life on land. But you held his gaze and said nothing more. The silence dug it’s nails into him, being here was more than what he could have asked for. He knew this was where you were meant to be but without you, he didn’t know where he belonged anymore.

“Thank you.”, you said in response to his reaction. You wrapped your hands around him, pressing your ear to his chest to hear his beating heart as you hugged him.

“What for?”, he huffed a laugh.

“For everything.”, you mumbled.

“I don’t think I said it enough.”, you fingers dug into the fabric of his shirt as your life flashed in your eyes.

Tell me to stay.

He pulled you close and hugged you tight.

Tell me to stay.

He wished his heart beat could convert his thoughts into waves that somehow you could pick up on this hidden desire of his. To say the words he wanted to hear.

“Hassan will be waiting for us.”, you said and he reluctantly broke away from you as he stepped out first to make sure the corridor was clear.

He was scared too, afraid that what was going to be said would take you from him permanently.

But with his hand securely placed in yours, you led him towards the archives.

You pushed through the doors, Hassan was where he always was, by the big round table that had a lot of different books open. His glasses resting at the tip of his nose as he looked up to see you, a smile spreading across his face that enhanced his wrinkles further when he caught sight of Buggy.

“Ah we have a very important guest.”, he smiled only because you had talked his ear off about your favorite pirate captain.

He got up as he eyed Buggy, who flashed his brilliant smile and stood up even taller soaking in all the attention.

“It is wonderful to finally meet you in person. All the stories I’ve heard do no justice to your charm.”, Hassan smiled extending his hand towards Buggy who took it instantly.

“Oh I know, she’s a poor story teller.”, he pouted, his mischievous eyes catching yours.

“Oh no, with you two together I am going to be teased ruthlessly.”, you smiled as you took a seat and Buggy followed suit, taking the seat right next to you such that his knee bumped into yours.

“So how can I help you two today?”, Hassan asked as he moved behind the table.

Buggy turned to you and you stayed quiet as you interlaced your fingers together.

“Is something the matter?”, Hassan questioned.

“Are you ill?”, he asked next his voice heavy with frantic worry as he took your hands in his, his thumb tracing over your inner palm as he looked at it.

“Why would I be ill?”, you asked, curiosity had gotten a better hold of you.

“Because.”, he began to then fall silent, his thumb rubbing over the rise of your palm.

“Oh nevermind, I’m making a big deal about nothing.” He smiled nervously as he sat back.

“Hassan.”, you said his name and he grew nervous.

“I remembered the face of the person who sent me away from Makara as a child.”, you stated as you observed his expression.

“You did?”, he asked as he averted his eyes to a book he was reading.

“It was you, wasn’t it?”, You asked to which he turned to you in shock before he settled.

“Yes”, he responded softly closing the book he held.

“All this time I was here and you never told me once, all the time I confided in you how lost I felt. You said nothing.”, you began to lash out but Buggy held onto your hand to root you to the present, to help you remember that he was here.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”, you questioned and Hassan grew silent.

“No matter the years you live, grief will never let go of you completely.”, he smiled and it was filled with sadness.

“Seeing you two together brings back memories to when your father snuck into the archives with your mother.”, he spoke reminiscing a time that was now lost.

“She was a local captain of a merchant ship coming in to trade goods from her adventures while he was a prince confined to these very walls. Their love so pure I have never since witnessed anything like it.”, he said.

“Her mother was a captain?” Buggy asked bewildered, as though that was enough of an answer to explain everything about you.

“She was.”, Hassan lit up again.

“I don’t understand, Hassan. Why save me from my parents fate?”, you couldn’t still put it all together.

“Because you are the only heir to the throne.”, he said without any more disguise to his words.

“Without a Nerrocean, Makara falls. That is the prophesy, always has been.”, he tapped his finger into the grains of the wood that held the rings of a tree trunk which came alive as he explained.

“You know the myth. The ocean churns every night a Nerrocean child is to be born. The parents swim to the depths of the sea to birth the child in the hot temperatures where the land cracks and molten lava hardens.”, Hassan explained running his hand over the giant disturbances within the rings till there was only one when you were born and nothing since.

“Nerroceans are born to be strong, to withstand anything. And now is your test.”, his eyes widened and you were sure he had gone mad with age.

“You have to fight for the throne. To ascend it when you get the rune.”, he spoke and you were sure of it.

“Rune?”, you questioned not sure what he meant by it.

“The symbol of the sea. At first a birthmark but one day it will burn into your skin like a brand. Enabling you to wield the same power your father did. The blue flame.”, He chattered on and it was too much to take in, for all these months he kept missing out on sharing information today he was giving you all of it.

“None of this makes sense.”, you laughed, sure if there was a birthmark, you would have known about it.

“How does this get even more messed up than it already is?”, you questioned rubbing your forehead.

“You send me away and now you want me to just accept all this.”, you spead your hands out in frustration and Hassan stopped.

“I did it for the sake of your parents. You would have been killed long ago if you were just a child within this court. I did what I did to protect you. And it looks like the oceans have done a good job with how it has brought you back.”, his eyes scanned your features as though he was satisfied, as though he would accepted any state you had returned in.

“You need to sit on that throne and if not you, someone will and bring to an end to all life on this island, dooming the fate of mermaids forever.”, he spoke with a desperation you had to resonate with.

“So not just my lineage and generation but the fate of an entire civilization is in my hands?”, you drew a a breath to steady yourself.

Hassan nodded and you sat back quietly.

“And now that you know of this, there is one way you can get out of your engagement with Helge.”, he sounded even more eager.

You began to open your mouth to tell him that doesn’t matter anymore but he moved away to bring a book.

“A Nerrocean’s mate is very important, they need to compliment you in mental, emotional and physical ways. A true soulmate. But in order to make sure they are the one, they will already have the identifying mark on their skin.”, Hassan tapped to a picture of a burn that looks like a spiral. But almost instantly Buggy fell silent and let go of your hand.

You could imagine how he felt, if you had received some news similar to this you would have felt hopeless too.

“How do you plan to keep me alive till the falling stars occur?”, you changed the topic of the conversation. You still had a few months to go and even with heightened security you knew your coronation will be tampered with.

“The date doesn’t really matter. Theodora insisted on that festival to be when you are presented as queen.”, Hassan said and you knew their was a foul play that was occurring.

“It is when the moon turns blue once in every ten years, that you should be seated on the throne, because the light will turn to metal and bestow you with your crown. Whoever has it, becomes the rightful ruler.”, Hassan stated.

“When does this occur?”, you asked.

“I’ve been reading the stars and it looks uncertain for now. But I will let you know as soon as I do.”, he nodded earnestly and you knew you could trust. He was the first person you did when you arrived here.

“No, I will come to you personally, me or Buggy.”, you changed it up to have more control in your hands.

You paused as you looked at him, a little uncertainty still lingering in you as you fidgeted your fingers.

“You are my god child, Céane. I do hope you know I tried to uphold your parents wishes in doing what they had asked of me.”, He said truthfully and you knew if was not in Hassan’s nature to lie. You sighed.

But instead of saying something, you stepped on your toes and hugged him. He was the closest to a family, so there was nothing to forgive.

You got back to your room, the door clicking softly behind you. A lot of information and possibilities swirling in your mind that you had forgotten Buggy was here too until he told you that he was going to retire for the night and head back to his ship.

Although he said that, he lingered. You should have told him leave and yet you lingered too. You didn’t give him an answer as you moved around to get ready for bed yourself, he spends his time looking at his reflection the mirror through which he snuck glances at you. While you busied yourself in undoing your hair and slipping into your night dress behind the divider that when you walked out of it, he was still here, hovering by the door as though he had something to say.

You put away your jewels and with nothing else to keep you busy, you knew you had something to tell him too.

He bid you goodnight noting that you had not budged, he turned away towards the door when you ran behind him to catch the edge of his shirt. As you criticized yourself for doing the very thing you swore not to, you only held on tighter to the fabric as he stopped.

“Helge knows.”, you blurted.

“About us.”, you said next to which his shoulders froze.

“It was because of the way I look at you, it gave me away. But he doesn’t wish to interfere.”, you said quickly, afraid that he will slip away from your fingers.

“But if that doesn’t convince you, I’m also scared about the mercenaries. What if they come for me in the middle of the night?”, you tried to cook up a reason.

But you couldn’t fool him, he laughed quietly instead knowing well you were capable of taking care of yourself.

“Tell me the true reason.”, he said his back still facing you.

“I don’t have a reason.”, you told him.

“But stay with me, I don’t have much to tempt you with.”, you said to which he dipped his head to shake it unbelief.

He held onto your wrist from behind as he turned to face you. His eyes holding you in his gaze as though you were the temptation he could never get over.

He reeled you to him and you stepped closer and closer as you instructed him how this would seal your fate with him. There was no getting out of this, you will carry this forever.

So close you could feel the heat off his skin, his trailed his finger up your bare arm till he found the strap of your nightdress that had slipped from your shoulder and down your arm.

He had heard the very sentence he had wanted, his dreams coming true that now there was only one decision he had to make. To give in to this or walk away. Your life would continue to be better even without him in it, but he was selfish, your eyes, that light, he wanted to be the only one to live in it. So he took the strap in between his fingers as he fiddled with it and when his eyes met yours his decision was made. No more running and hiding, he slid the strap of your body, his fingers trailing your skin as though he was sinking into the waters of a stream. It was going to cleanse him as he started a new journey. There was no going back from this, he made up his mind, he wanted to stay with you.

You reached up to set his hair free, his messy blue hair unfurling down his chest as you pulled away the button of his vest. While he slid the other strap away, your nightdress peeling away as he pushed you back till your fell onto your bed. You pulled away his shirt as he pressed into you, your hands fiddling with his belt buckle. Your fingers then trailing up his smooth back as he dove in to kiss your neck and the underside of your jaw. His groans and moans setting up on fire than you began to understand why you were chased by fire your whole life, because it burned within you, keeping you warm as you knew you fell back into the very thing you had promised to give up.

In between his kisses, he paused as he caught his breath, telling you that he had something the share.

“One night when we were apart, I thought of you and felt a burn in my chest. The next day I woke up with this.”, he guided your hand in the dark over his heart and as you pivoted him to catch the moonlight, pushing away his hair you saw it. The very same mark as the one Hassan had shown.

Your hand froze over it, but his gaze conveyed to you that this was what he couldn’t believe himself, because now his destiny was set too, he was meant to be here with you.

“I don’t know my parents.”, he admitted softly as he pushed away a strand of hair from your forehead.

“But the sea adopted me while you were born in it.”, he continued.

“You and I are made of the same element.”, he said, his eyes catching the light making it shine like the surface of the sea.

You were, you and him were forged by the sea. You slid your hand up his neck as you pulled him close against your skin because he was the one, he was chosen for you and as his lips touched your skin, your hand began to burn a soft blue glow lighting up the room faintly for a few seconds before it vanished.

---

Tags:

@lotr-got @juhdoche @wooyoungsrightsock @mysingularitybts

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maxwell-grant · 1 year

Text

(SPIDERVERSE SPOILERS TIMES TWO)

I looked through camrips and tried putting together as many tidbits of dialogue as I could from that split-second comic cover interlude, since those tend to foreshadow the dialogue of the scenes in question. There’s some others I can’t make out due to image quality and we’ll have to wait for the streaming release to see more, but in the meanwhile I was able to make out these speech bubbles. I’m using “-” to fill in missing parts:

“Uncle Aaron!”

“-how much you need what I got and, trust me, that'll be the beginning of a whole new family business. Kid, your dad should be proud of you no matter what. Not making you scared to come out from behind that mask.”

“Yeah, that whole “Not-” thing

“Uncle Aaron, you can say whatever. But I can't let you kill this guy. I just can't.”. “Yeah, I-”

“You and I are going to take care of a bad guy. A real bad guy”. ”Who?”

(I’m assuming the named villain is Scorpion since the name starts with S-c-o and there’s a P, and also with the following line)

(images compiled by @tokyofro)

“Did you look up the Scorpion on the web?” “Yes Uncle Aaron, I did”. “Then you know I wasn’t lying, he’s a dangerous cat”. “What does this have to do with-”. “You wanna be a superhero, now’s your chance”

“You ran away? YOU RAN AWAY?! Is that the kind of man you are?

MILES: “You really don’t care who you hurt? What did the world do to you to make you think it’s okay for you to be this way?

So my theory, going off by these and particularly the “What did the world do to you?” line from Miles and (presumably) Prowler!Miles telling him that they’re going to go after “a real bad guy”, is that Prowler!Miles is going to be exploring the idea of Miles Morales turned villain protagonist/anti-hero. It seems to be picking and uniting separate strands like Prowler’s original role as a darker counterpart to Spider-Man / a gadget-wielding morally compromised crimefighter who eventually turns face / Spider-Man-as-Batman, Earth-616 Miles being a villain, and Miles’s contentious relationship with his original setting and current status as an Ultimate Marvel refugee who quite literally jumped ship from the darker and all-around shittier home universe he was meant to be in, among others, to consolidate them into Miles’ confrontation with himself.

The first Spiderverse shows a lot how strongly Miles listens to and respects and values the input from his uncle (and vice versa, only Miles is able to bring Aaron out of the Prowler mask, even when Aaron knows he’s going to die the second he hesitates and uses that second to shield Miles’ identity), and he’s looking for guidance, someone to model himself after, because he’s a very intelligent kid trying to live up to the potential everyone keeps telling him he has, trying to live up to what his parents worked so hard to give him. He finds role models in Spider-Man and an entire group of Spider-People there to lead by example and catch him when he falls, and with his uncle giving his life away to not only save him, but urge him to stay on the right path. It wasn’t just meeting Peter Parker at the collider that saved Miles, it was rising up to the challenge in Spiderverse 1 and Uncle Aaron using his last breath to shut the door on Miles making the mistakes he did, and so Miles makes himself into the Spider-Man his world needs, filling in a spot needed upon left vacant.

Whether Earth-42 was supposed to have a proper Peter Parker Spider-Man and that never came to pass, or it was supposed to have it’s own Miles Morales get bitten and become Spider-Man like the Spot flashback indicates, Earth-42 Miles is what happens when none of that comes to pass. No Spider-Man protecting the world, no spider bite and sacrifice to pass along the mantle, no pressure and assistance from Aunt May and the others who’ve been there and can help him if he can help himself first, no Spider-Man mentors to show him the ropes, Jefferson dead and his mom having to struggle with Aaron’s help to get by, supervillain cartels burning the streets down, and the only person who can remotely help is his uncle, who will never get the heroic sacrifice or wake-up call to change his ways or inspire his nephew to strive for something better. Because there isn’t anything better, and if there is, it isn’t here, someone took it away. After all, Miles and Aaron don’t show any surprise upon hearing about all that different dimension spider-power talk, and whether they know or even blame Miles for taking the opportunity that was theirs, they’ll hardly be that thrilled to meet someone who clearly had better opportunities than they did, if he can talk about them being good guys with choices to be better.

It’s possible that Prowler! Miles isn’t even that much of a villain, or even as much of a mercenary as Uncle Aaron was as the Prowler. It’s possible, and far more tragic if so, if becoming the Prowler was simply as good as it got for this earth’s Miles. If it was the only way they could survive in a Sinister Six-run city and make ends meet and provide Rio with enough to get by, if it was all they could strive for in a world where there is nothing and no one to show a better way, or even if this is the only way Miles can help anyone and make amends for the sacrifice of his father, as most Spider-Men do upon losing their loved ones. Whether this Miles has never had any positive examples to follow, or worse, he once did and this is the best he can do in living up to them. Because on Spidey’s shadow, lives The Prowler, Spider-Man when forced to play by Batman rules.

No web swinging and super speed, so the motorbike will have to do. No healing powers or toughness, the body armor can only take so much. Incapacitating-yet-non-lethal thunderstrikes at your fingertips and invisibility are not an option (although MAN wouldn’t those be convenient for a caped burglar, huh), so you settle for high-tech murder claws and hope those and the camouflage do the trick in protecting you for another day. No guiding superheroes with your best interests in mind, only super-criminals and the only one of those you lucked into being on your family’s side. Your survival dangling on a knife’s edge, so if you don’t take that knife and use it, the next guy to take it won’t be so kind. Traits that are no stranger to Spider-Man stories or related characters, whether they predate him or follow in his example.

(Left-to-right: The Spider by Dan Schkade, Taylor Hebert (Worm) fan-art by tactilescream)

Or, what happens when your bug-themed crimefighter, with lots of personal baggage and trauma and flaws to contend with from the get-go, is thrust headfirst into surviving and defeating an endlessly escalating superpower-backed war on crime against which they are hopelessly outmatched, with no Spider-Safety Net status quo and super powers to catch them, as they fall and keep falling and keep weaving bigger handbaskets to catch larger handfuls of hell inside, because that’s what it means to be “the only thing standing between this city and oblivion” when you can’t juggle cars but everyone around you can, and they are more than willing to toss them at you and your mother and uncle whether you can fight back or not, so you might as well be able to, right?

And so we get the battle between Miles Morales of Earth-1610, who’s spent two movies proving himself to be not just as good a Spider-Man as any other, but The Most Spider-Man, the Spider-Man who’s the ultimate underdog and pariah as well as the ultimate fighter and scrapper, who beats hundreds of others to try and upend their ultimate fate. Versus the Miles Morales of Earth-42, his shadow come to roost, the one who could be anything except be Spider-Man, and so he can settle for being Not-Spider-Man until he can catch the real deal, and then they’ll have much to do together.

#spiderverse #across the spiderverse #spider-man #miles morales #worm #the spider pulp #richard wentworth #taylor hebert #skitter #prowler #earth-42 #spiderverse 2 #spoilers

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everydayyoulovemeless · 11 months

Note

I don't know if you're doing requests, but I recently downloaded Tumblr again and happen to stumble across your account when looking through fallout stuff.

but, my request would be an (sfw, fluff) overboss reader x porter gage. but, here's the twist: the reader could be 16 or 17 years of age. obviously having a child as an overboss of three raider groups could never end well, but the reader knows how to hold their own; they're tough, reliable and gage gives them a chance as the overboss of nuka world, since they were able to take down colter.

the location of this one-shot would be in kiddy kingdom, after the reader convinces gage to go with them (without explaining why). the power in nuka world would be on, so the rides would be active.

could it be that the reader somehow convices gage to ride with them on one of the rides? e.i. the carousel, the spinning cars, Farris wheel, etc. gage could secretly enjoy this, but when they finally leave kiddy kingdom, the cherry on top would definitely be him saying, "listen, boss, if you tell anyone about this, I'll kill you myself."

this is completely random, and I'm unsure if you still write, but I thought this was a cute idea!

Kiddie Kingdom ↠ Platonic!Gage x Teen!Reader

➼ Word Count » 1.0k ➼ Warnings » None ➼ Summary » Reader takes Gage to ride the Ferris Wheel in Kiddie Kingdom. ➼ A/N » This is so cute! I love fluffy Gage moments <33

There weren't many people who had any hope of taking over the park once you were elected to be their new overboss. There was a lot of risk in giving all the power to some kid who just happened to win against Colter. You couldn't blame them, after all, you weren't all too sure what you were doing when you first showed up either, but you were smart and picked up on what needed to be done early on. People eventually began relying on you, and you always came through, soon enough winning the trust and loyalty of most.

“Hey, Gage, I'm headed out to Kiddie Kingdom, did you wanna come with?” You called out as you rummaged through your trunk up in the Fizztop Grille.

“What the hell are you plannin’ on doin’ all the way out there? We cleared it didn’t we?”

“You coming or not?” You asked, moving to take your place on the elevator.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll come, just gimme a second.”

Taking over the park wasn't as easy as you originally thought it'd be, especially since you had to do most of the heavy lifting, but as you walked down the dirt paths of Nuka-Town, seeing the place brought back to its former glory, all the work you accomplished felt worth it.

“Hey, boss, do I slack off on my job?" One of the Disciples called out as you and Gage passed by.

“No?” You answered, not entirely sure how to respond. It wasn't like you had files on all of your grunts, you had no idea who this guy even was.

“I told ya!” He said, hitting the other's shoulder with his hand, “Thanks, boss!”

The whole place was much more lively now that you had the power back up and running. The flashing carnival lights made everything seem brighter and more exciting. You preferred the newer atmosphere to the previous one. It was way too devoid of color and you liked how the raiders now all seemed full of wonder at everything they spotted.

"You gonna tell me why we're goin' here, or are ya just gonna keep me in the dark?" Gage glanced down at you, his rifle held firmly in his hands as he followed.

"You'll see," You spoke, "just be patient."

"Come on now, just spit it out." He pressed, "I feel like I'm walkin' into a trap."

You giggled, "Quit whining, we'll be there soon enough."

There was something so charming about the child-like aesthetics of the Kiddie Kingdom blending with the rustic horrors of the apocalypse. The bright colors and welcoming decorations added much to the impending danger that awaited behind the arches. You remember it feeling so enchanting when you and Gage first stepped foot inside the park's walls—like a Brothers Grimm fairytale.

You made a beeline to the Ferris Wheel once it came into view, "Well, hop on Gage."

"There ain't anythin' that could convince me to get on that giant deathtrap, boss." The raider retorted, "No offense, but that thing looks like it's gonna fall apart any second now."

"Come on," You said, sliding into the seats closest to the ground, "It'll be fun."

"I'm not gettin' on it."

"You followed me all the way out here, you might as well just go on one loop with me. Just press that button there and get on."

That seemed to have convinced him as he rolled his eyes, pressed the button, and slid into the capsule across from you, pulling down the handrails to keep either of you from falling out.

The heavy machinery slowly began to lift you both into the air, swaying and groaning as it did, making its age evident. It went slowly, pausing suddenly at certain moments due to it being so ancient. Gage noticeably tensed whenever it froze like that, gripping the handles with incredible force only for the ride to continue its route upward.

You were both about the same height as the castle when the ride came to a full stop, allowing you to peer out at the rest of the park.

Gage's ragged breaths continuously broke the silence, "You sure it's supposed to stop like this?"

"Yeah, I'm sure it's fine." You dismissed, waving away his concerns, "Look! You can see Fizztop Mountain!"

"That ain't nothin' special, you can see it from just 'bout anywhere in the park."

You undid your restraints and stood to better see everything, causing the capsule to sway and Gage to reach out and pull you back down into your seat.

"Knock that off! You tryin' to get us killed?"

You rolled your eyes, "Calm down, Gage, this thing's stable enough."

The look in his eye told you he didn't believe you, but he didn't argue, just strapped the bar back over your torso.

The Ferris Wheel then sparked back to life and slowly started to bring the two of you back to the ground, threatening to break at every creak and groan, until you were brought back to solid ground again.

You climbed out, jumping around excitedly at the thought of being so high up. "Ah! That was so fun! We should go on another one sometime!"

"Yeah, don't count on it."

"You can't tell me you didn't enjoy it a little bit." You said, walking quickly to keep up with Gage as he made his way back to Nuka-Town.

He couldn't hide the small grin that made its way onto his face, "No, I hated that. Felt we were gonna fall at any minute."

You only gave him a knowing glance and a doubtful hum as you clasped your hands behind your back before he finally stopped walking. “Listen, boss, if you tell anyone about this, I’ll kill you myself.”

You snickered before saluting him, “Sure thing, Gage. I doubt anyone would believe me anyway.” And with that, you both started toward the Fizztop Grille again, certain that you'd be able to get him on another ride someday.

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authurials · 1 year

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𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐔𝐀𝐆𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐒 ... 2/5

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 . aemond had never allowed himself to covet--not until now that is

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐒 . one / three / four / five

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐒 . 18+ situations ( MINORS DNI ! ), unintentional voyeurism, solo masturbation, accidental exhibitionism, strong language

𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 . here is day four of my 12 days of house of the dragon celebration and part two of my aemond targaryen x f!reader miniseries! things are heating up between the two would-be-lovers already and we still have three parts to go. what do you think is going to happen next? i’ve decided to take the day off tomorrow from writing and posting so i can recharge a bit after a particularly exhausting week of work--i also have some last minute christmas shopping to do AND other errands so i’m feeling a tad overwhelmed; this does mean my helaena one-shot has been dropped from the lineup but i’ve decided to revamp the idea and write it at a later date when i feel more inspired to write for my girl. on sunday you’ll be getting part two to my harwin x reader miniseries, candy cane! so be sure to stay tuned and let me know your thoughts on what you’ve read so far; also, finished this right around midnight but i’m still counting it for the 16th lmao

𝐏𝐀𝐑 𝐓𝐖𝐎 . white rose

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑 𝐖𝐀𝐒 tucked into the waist pocket of your apron, a delightfully pinkish red camelia that you had found on one of the garden benches during your usual rounds. One might just assume that it had happened upon the stone bench in an act of nature, but you knew better–you knew it had been put there specifically for you. The camelia was only one of many you had been happening across for nearly a fortnight, starting with the lily of the valley in your chamber. Since then you had received some azaleas, baby’s breath, begonias, and your favorite, bleeding hearts; there were others as well, each placed carefully in a beautiful arrangement on your bedside table. Some were beginning to wilt from lack of sunshine while the newer ones still had a few days left in them, their sweet smelling scents mingling perfectly together like their own brand of perfume. At first, you had assumed it was one of the younger gardeners under your father leaving you the flowers or perhaps one of the hedge knights that frequented the grounds trying to secure patronage in the capital. None of them had quite caught your eye as a potential secret admirer however, at most they merely threw polite smiles your way before they moved along and out of your life forever.

As you passed a handsome bronze-haired boy, you instinctively glanced over your shoulder to assess his form, catching his eye as he did the same. Again, there was that polite smile as he nodded his head in acknowledgement, simply turning to face forward once more as he continued on his way. Sighing, you did the same, not having felt anything when you took note of the color of his eyes or the dimple in his cheek. He was quite good-looking, you would admit, but there was no resounding connection that stayed with you as you carried on about your rounds in the garden. No, you would be able to tell if you happened upon your secret admirer whether that be by chance or on purpose; you knew he would reveal himself eventually, why wouldn’t he? But you couldn’t deny that you were a bit impatient to know who it was.

Thoughts consumed with flowers and speculation, you took no note of the fact that you had an extra shadow on that day; not far behind you, separated from your person by a thick row of blooming pale pink carnations, walked a certain one-eyed prince. Making sure to stay enough behind you so that you wouldn’t take easy note of his presence, Aemond followed you with his hands folded behind his back; singular eye locked on you, a slight smirk curved his lips as he took in your dreamy expression. You softened in his absence, no longer cold and guarded as you walked the familiar tended paths of the royal garden; and each day since the lily of the valley, he had come to watch you if only for a short time before tending to his other duties–if only to assure himself that you’d received his latest gift. And sure enough he saw the newest bloom he had picked earlier in the dew-lit morning peeking out of the pocket of your apron skirt, its petal bobbing gently with each step you took. The camelia had called to him that day, a symbol of his growing affections for the sharp-tongued and quick-witted girl who had beguiled him with her boldness–with her audacity.

He wanted to break you, to have you desire him as he desired you–a fire so intense that it was maddening, an obsession that if left unchecked threatened to consume him completely. As a boy it had been but a childish sort of like, a pointless crush that he had forgotten about until the moment he saw you again. Never had he dared to hope, to dream, to covet such a thing that was supposed to be below him–not until now; now all he did was covet and desire as he followed you deeper into the gardens, your path clearly taking you to the greenhouse and workshop your father kept. When you were children you would take him there after much convincing on your part and show off all the new seedlings your father was trying to grow so he could incorporate them into the gardens; most were incredibly rare specimens, shipped all the way from Pentos and Essos and perhaps even further. You’d prattled off all that your father had told you about them, eidetic memory storing such information as if it were a precious tome that needed safe-keeping, all the while gripping tightly to Aemond’s hand with your small sweaty one. It had disgusted him at times, but for some reason he rarely found it in himself to pull away, especially when you would look over your shoulder at him with that crooked smile.

Stopping where the row of carnations ended, Aemond watched you continue on without him, not a care in the world as you hummed a melancholy tune; just as you were about to disappear from his view, he took note of the way you plucked the camelia from your pocket, head turning just enough to the side so he saw how you lifted it to your nose to sniff it. Smirk widening, he backed away slowly and turned to leave, assured that his plan was taking proper effect. All he needed to do now was reveal himself to you as your ‘secret admirer’--he knew you had been searching, eyes thoughtful as of late as you would take in your surroundings, waiting for your faceless would-be-lover to reveal himself. You were ready to know, that he was certain of, he just needed to set the scene appropriately before revealing himself to you–

But first, he had other less interesting obligations to attend to courtesy of his ever helpless family.

Leaving the gardens, he headed to the Tower of the Hand where his mother and grandfather were supposed to be awaiting his arrival. He knew he was late and usually that was unfounded for him–always the responsible one, the dutiful son, the wasted potential of a second born prince; however for once he could not find it in himself to care, as duty had become tasteless in his mouth, his mother’s praise and love no longer enough to satiate himself upon. He wanted–no, needed–more and he was determined to see himself filled no matter the cost.

He was let into his mother’s solar by Ser Criston Cole, who ever dutifully bowed his head to his star pupil; unlike the other times when he would’ve respectfully nodded back to his mentor, Aemond averted his eyes and simply gave a tense bow of his head as he moved past the Dornish man. He did not miss the way the older man frowned in confusion, dark gaze following him into his grandfather’s solar before closing the door once more. The Targaryen prince, although firm in his intentions, could not help but feel a bit guilty knowing that his newfound selfishness would disappoint the man who had been more of father to him then his own ever had. He had looked up to kingsguard his whole life, admiring the honorable way in which the man protected and respected his mother unlike the other men in her life who had neglected to do so; if Aemond had not known any better he would’ve said Criston was in love with the queen, but he did know better and knew with a certainty that the relationship between the knight and his mother ran no deeper than a shared fondness and treasured friendship. It made the young man feel guilty because in a way he was betraying the rapport he had created thus far with his teacher, years of trust diminished in the short period of time it had taken Aemond to cast away the virtue of duty for the sin of lust.

“Mother,” he greeted respectfully, bowing once more to the pious woman who sat stiffly as always in the area by the lit fireplace; nearer to the hearth stood his grandfather, who greeted his grandson with a nod and his name. “Grandfather. You both wanted to see me?”

He already had his suspicions before Otto even opened his mouth, having known for months what the man and the other small council members were plotting behind his and his father’s own backs. Viserys was too weak to really be coherent of much of anything at this point, kept numb and docile by copious amounts of milk of the poppy; he hadn’t been of use for quite some time, Aemond’s grandfather and mother taking up in his stead to rule things as they saw fit–hiding behind the guise of doing the king’s bidding. It was quite hard to do his bidding when the decaying corpse of man couldn’t even string together a full sentence, instead speaking in a broken language one often had to decode–Aemma and Rhaenyra among some of his favorite words. Aemond resisted the urge to curl his lip in disgust as he listened to what Otto had to say, though he was already calculating his rebuttal in his head.

“Your mother and I have been discussing it with the small council,” the older man hummed, “and we believe it is high time you were engaged to marry. We’ve already begun discussions with Lord Borros Baratheon in regards to one of his four lovely daughters–”

“And what if I do not wish to marry?” Was Aemond’s reply, hands folding behind his back as he glanced between his grandfather and mother, who had already begun to pick nervously at her hands as she formulated her response carefully.

“Aemond,” she begun, “we understand these things are not always desirable but–”

“But it is your duty to the family to secure a good match,” Otto interjected, “and garner more support for your brother’s claim.”

Of course, Aemond thought bitterly to himself, it is always about that drunk’s claim. But what of my own?

He studied the histories and philosophies of their predecessors, he practiced the art of the sword, he had sacrificed time and time again for his family; but still, his efforts would forever be only those of a second born son, a curse in and of itself–a constant mark against his person no matter how hard he tried to escape his destiny. Had it ever crossed any of their mind’s that he might make a better fit for king than his older brother? Who other than the fact of being born first was even more ill-suited for the crown than their whoring cunt of a half-sister or her brood of bastards. Aemond was sure that it had, but due to damnable tradition he would forever be passed over for Aegon, just as he had when Helaena and his brother were betrothed; he had had no desire to marry his sister, but he would’ve done it if only to ensure she was not doomed to a loveless and cruel marriage to that drunkard.

“Your grandfather is right,” Alicent nodded, standing up from her spot on the settee. “We will need Lord Borros’ support and to ensure it we have to create a strong alliance. The man’s father might have sworn to Rhaenyra, but that was years ago and it is my understanding that the man is less concerned with hollow oaths and more concerned with seeing his daughters to profitable martial matches. What better one than that of a prince?”

“I do not wish to marry one of the storms, mother,” Aemond frowned. “Besides, it is my understanding that they take after their father in both looks and intellect; I’d rather not have my future children be burdened with dull minds and plain faces.”

“Aemond!” The queen admonished.

“I merely–” Aemond began to defend himself.

“Enough,” Otto snapped, mouth set in a firm line. “You stand there and insult Lord Borros and his daughters, one of which will be your betrothed. It is foolish of you to believe that you have any say in the matter; you will do as your mother and I have bid you for your father–the king–has already given his blessing to the offer. We simply wished to let you know as a courtesy before sending word to the Stormlands.”

A pause and then a laugh–

Aemond tossed back his hair, chuckle passing through the column of his throat and vibrating there as he smiled amusedly at his grandfather. The other man’s frown deepened and he took a step forward as if to further reprimand his grandson, perhaps he even intended to put his hands on Aemond. Alicent, ever the level-headed one, placed her hand on her father’s arm as her lips pressed into a thin line, worry etched forever in the plains of her forehead.

“Aemond–” She began softly.

“You are the foolish one, grandfather,” he cut her off, laughter dying out as he continued, “if you believe that you can tell a dragon what to do; you have power because we allow you to not based on your own merit, though I will commend you for your cleverness and confidence.”

“How dare you–” Otto snapped.

“No,” Aemond shot back, taking a dangerous step forward as his hands fell to his side, clenched into readied fists. “How dare you think you could go behind my back and decide my fate for me! How dare you lecture me about duty and sacrifice as if I have no idea what it means to bleed for this family?! I have already given so much–my mind, my sword, my eye–and still it is not enough for you?”

He laughed again, this time more cruelly as he backed away and paced across the room, eyes once more finding Criston’s who remained by the door. The latter had a disapproving frown on his lips–of course he did; the man was just as chained to the concept of duty as Aemond had found himself to be not that long ago. To him and the others–Aemond’s mother and grandfather–he was foolish to believe that one’s wishes should trump that of obligation and perhaps at one point the prince himself believed that to be so as well. But not anymore–not when he was so close to tasting the forbidden fruit he had denied himself for so long–

Not when he almost had you, his flower.

“Let us speak civilly about this, Aemond,” his mother urged, walking over to his side and reaching for his hand. “I know that it does not always feel like your efforts have been recognized, but know that they have and that I am grateful for your dedication to this family. Aemond–”

She paused when he pulled his hand away, turning his body to the side so that he did not have to look at her directly, the set of his jaw tense as he turned his head to the side to let her know he was at least still listening.

“You have always been so….agreeable,” she continued, trying to find the right words, “when it came to what has been expected of you in the past. What has changed, my dear boy?”

He could not tell her, not yet when things were still in motion and he did not have you fully yet; there was still the chance, however slim he hoped it to be, that you would reject him and he would not be made a fool to you and his family if that were to happen. Even absent his desire for you the repulsion he felt at the prospect of marrying one of the Baratheon daughters did not waver; he had never met them nor did he have any wish to do so, not wanting to give any of them the false hope that they might be able to bewitch a dragon. It was too late for him anyways, after all he had fallen under your spell long ago.

“Perhaps,” he found himself saying, finally glancing between his pale faced grandfather and his mother who now worried her bottom lip between both rows of her teeth, “I simply do not wish to be an animal caged in a loveless and dull marriage as I have seen my loved one subjected to.”

It was a dig at the sham of the unions of first his mother and father and now his brother and sister; both pairs forced into proximity to one another in an act of his grandfather to secure Hightower blood on the throne. Aemond knew his mother held no love for his father, not as a wife should a husband anyways, and perhaps Aegon and Helaena could’ve cared for each other as siblings if they had not been used as pawns by those who should’ve protected them. And now the pieces were moving across the board once more, and it was Aemond’s turn to be sent forward as fodder for his grandfather’s ambitions.

“Perhaps,” he adds, the hint of a smile curving his lips, “I have found something that I desire more than your fleeting approval for once, mother.”

He had always known her love was conditional, that to be the golden son in her eyes one must forgo their own happiness; but even that was no longer enough for the queen it seemed as she grew desperate to secure her eldest son’s claim to a throne he had no business sitting upon. No matter what Aemond did he would never have her favor, he would never be enough, because he was a second son and that’s all he ever would be.

It was time that he accepted that.

Without another word, he turned to leave, striding towards the door even as Alicent called after him tearfully, shaking hand coming up to cover her quivering mouth. His grandfather’s voice joined her, demanding that he stop and even commanding Criston make him, but for once the knight defied orders and instead simply bowed his head to the prince as he strode past; there seemed to be something in his eyes akin to understanding, as if he too understood what it was to be held in limbo between desire and duty.

And perhaps he had; as Aemond opened the door to his mother’s solar and walked through, he recalled something Criston had said to him many years ago–about how he had once coveted something that he could not have and how filled with too much pride he had rejected the only way in which to possess it–

A choice he did not regret until many years too late.

Aemond refused to have such regrets hanging over his head.

•°•❀•°•

𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐄𝐅𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 tucked under a white rose in your bedroom again, wanting to ensure that it would not be disturbed by just any passerby nosy enough to pick it up. It read as follows: meet me in the east private gardens when the moon is highest in the sky. Simple enough. And it gave him enough time to rid himself of the residual anger that still pulse through his blood, thrumming most prominently at the vein in his neck. With no other obligations–at least ones he wasn’t willing to snub–he found himself spending the rest of the day avoiding the gardens in exchange for the quiet of the library. He did not want to risk running into you before you saw his note and came to the garden to meet your faceless secret admirer that night; fearful he was that you might see the truth upon his face somehow and the big reveal would be ruined.

It was terribly romantic, or at least he thought so as he settled into a secluded section with a book he had already read two or three times before. His mind was not of the disposition that day to retain any new information, hyperfocused on the task at hand; he obsessed over every possible outcome as his eyes skimmed over the words, not really taking them in as he tried to prepare himself for any possible scenario. What would he do if you truly did reject him? He didn’t believe himself to be a broken hearted type, but it would surely gut him in some way if you held not even the slightest inclination towards him. Or on the other, what would he do if you did end up holding a desire similar to his own? He was not well versed when it came to concerns of the flesh, though he found himself more often than not as of late imagining what coupling with you would be like if he were to be presented with the chance.

His singular sexual experience was one he would rather forget–a forced-upon-him trip to the Street of Silk courtesy of Aegon and his wiles. It had been to make him a man–at least that’s how his brother had rationalized it afterwards, when a three and ten Aemond had stumbled out of the brothel the next day, fleeing as Aegon tried to keep him. Time to get it wet, that is what he had said as he clapped the younger boy on the back the night before, guiding him towards the establishment’s offerings; words that haunted the prince to this day and to which he tried his best to push away in that moment, instead replacing them with happier thoughts of you.

Sighing, he closed his book and laid it against his chest, leaning his head back as he closed his eyes; he thought of the small, coy smile you had given him that day in the garden when he had confronted you after all those years. It alone aroused something inside of him in its memory, fire only fueled as he continued to recall more details of you on that day. The dress you wore had been plain, the uniform red of a royal servant, a white robe dirtied by the work in the gardens thrown over it; your hair had been bound, pulled away from your face aside from a few rebellious strands that he didn’t know whether he wanted to fist and pull at or tuck behind your ear in a gesture of tenderness. The glint in your eye; the curve of your lips, the silhouette of your figure–

Shifting uncomfortably, Aemond began to feel the familiar tightening in his leathers, cursing internally as he sighed and ran a hand over his face. Never before had he been the type to so spontaneously harden at the mere thought of a pretty girl; it was not unfounded completely, no, but nor had it been as frequent as it had of late. He of course blamed you and his lack of self-control, the reluctance to delay gratification a constant struggle he battled with.

Setting the book aside, he hesitated a moment as he sat up, hands flexing upon his thighs as he glanced at the space between his legs before assessing his surroundings; there had been no one in the library when he had first entered and he was sure no one had made their way in ever since. Although he was tucked away from the entrance, he was positive he would be able to hear if someone were to come in and even though it was a risky move he found himself oddly thrilled at the element of danger. It would do him no good, after all, to walk to his chambers in such a state he rationalized to himself as his right hand rubbed up his thigh and to the growing bulge at the front of his leathers.

Groaning, he gave in and leaned back as his hand closed over the outline of his cock, gripping it firmly and rubbing in slow methodical circles. His legs shifted, opening wider as he adjusted his position to a more comfortable, ass hanging off the edge of the seat he was in as he kicked his feet out. Heel of his boots digging into the firm ground so he could gain purchase and have better control of his hips, which squirmed under his hand’s ministrations as he let his mind wander.

He imagined you there with him, sitting to his side, your hand replacing his as it stroked over his clothed member; fingers teasing the laces at the front, he licked his lips as he saw you in his head leaning in to press kisses to the arch of his neck, leaving teasing bites as you began to undo the front of his trousers. His own mirrored your movements, except for the way he impatiently yanked at the laces while you moved slowly, not a care in the world as you focused all your attention on him. It made him feel revered, worshiped as your pressed kisses down the column of his throat, hand sliding inside to grip at his cock finally; a soft gasp left his lips as you gave it a few good tugs, matching his rhythm before pulling it out and exposing the turgid flesh to the cool air of the room. It should’ve been a relief, it was a relief, but only a temporary reprieve as Aemond continued stroking himself at a good pace; he pressed his feet into the floor, hips rocking in tandem with his touch as he thrusted into his fist. Only for a moment did he pull away, depravedly spitting into his own hand before returning it to his now fully hard and weeping erection; his strokes quickened as he panted breathlessly, head lilting back uselessly as he lost himself to the debauchery of it all.

Soon enough his leathers were wrapped around his ankles, restricting his movement as the scene shifted in his mind, imagining you taking him into your mouth. He grunted, trying to conjure up how the delicious cavern of mouth upon him would feel–hot, wet, blissfully suffocating–but it was futile; he would simply have to make do with the slick slide of his hand along his length as a poor imitation until he could bring you to bed–if he could bring you to bed. Growling at the thought of your rejection, he quickened his strokes, fucking the tight vice of his fist as he pushed such worries away; in his fantasy at least you were compliant and wanting, mouth hungry as you suckled at the root of his cock, hand fondling the heavy weight of his balls as they tightened. He gripped them harshly, the tightness bordering on painful as they drew up against his body, the end close.

“Fuck,” he cursed, squeezing his erection as he tried to delay the inevitable; your name slipped over his tongue and past his lips, saying it like a prayer as he teetered on the edge. He said it like a plea, begging his cock not to spill so soon as he wanted to drown there in his desire for just a little bit longer.

His body did not heed his words, however, as soon it was stiffening, hips arching off the chair and staying there as the first stream of his release shot pitifully out of the tip of his cock, landing on the lapels of his trousers and the lower half of his vest. Gasp locked deep in his throat, all he could do was simply tilt his head back, singular eye closed tightly as he watched himself hold you down as he spilled inside of your mouth. In an ideal world, you would accept his seed like an offering, swallowing it all down gratefully as you continued to suckle at his softening cock like it was a rare delicacy and you had yet to have your fill–nothing went to waste. Sighing, he continued to jerk himself to the prospect, tongue coming out to swipe across his lower lip as he felt his cum begin to drip onto his hand; only when the last of his release had finished did he loosen his hold on his penis, letting fall uselessly against his dirtied trousers as he slowly came down from the high.

It had been thrilling, he had to admit to, doing such a private act in the communal area of the library, the threat of being caught some kind of fucked up aphrodisiac. He almost wanted to get caught, to be happened upon in such a compromising state, to be watched while he–

He turned his head in the midst of his wicked thoughts, eye catching the familiar hue of yours as everything came to a halt; for a moment he thought–hoped–that you were still simply a figment of his imagination, but when he saw the shock written plainly on your face and the way your lips parted as you realized you were caught he knew that this was not a part of his fantasy. You were really standing there in the library before him, bearing witness to his secret shame, and he wondered when you had stumbled upon him–how long had you watched him defile himself?

Before either of you could utter a word, Aemond watched you bolt, gripping the skirts of your dress as you hurried from the room. Cursing, he quickly pushed his cock back inside his trousers, struggling with the laces as he attempted to right himself and stumble to catch. Your name left his lips again as he begged you to stay, commanding you to stop when his pleas went unanswered, the door slamming shut behind you as you slipped out of the library. Ignoring how filthy he was, pearly white cum already beginning to harden and stain his clothes, he followed you out into the hallway only to realize that you had already disappeared. Unsure of which way you had gone, he stood there for a moment and considered his chances of catching up with you; frowning as he realized it was futile, he turned on his heel and went back inside, the door once more slamming shut behind him.

He could only hope that you showed at the garden that night so that he might explain himself; although how he could he did not know quite yet. It proved unnecessary however for as midday finally turned to night and Aemond found himself waiting in a patch of white roses in the private area of the gardens, minutes turned to hours and still you made no appearance. And yet he waited as time passed him by, eventually laying back in the flowers as he allowed their sickly sweet scent to envelop him, the starry sky hanging overhead as he drifted slowly to sleep.

#˚ ₊˚ˑ༄ؘ 𝐅𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐇 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐘𝐏𝐄𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐑 :#house of the dragon #hotd #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen one shot

172 notes · View notes

sashimiyas · 2 years

Text

Frost

Word count: 1.1k

Summary: Suna realizes there are still dark alleyways even on golden paths; a continuation to Back to Shore; the next part here Time is a fickle thing

Genre: ex-husband Suna and ex-wife reader; angst

A/n: i hope you’re not tired of them because they mean so much to me

He must have been drinking. It’s Suna’s first thought when he fumbles with the key to his door. It takes him three tries for it to catch in the lock and he staggers his way in, right shoulder bumping against the frame with a resounding creak.

Suna’s depth perception is deceiving when he steps out, expecting the floor to be deeper than it actually is, and he stumbles when linoleum catches his weight too early. Odd, he muses. He toes his sneaker to follow the seam of the fake wood. It takes him too long to realize that this is your apartment, the one that you share with him.

He sobers up instantly, vision as clear as the clash of a cymbal. The way he struggles now as he hurriedly rushes to take off his shoes is to be blamed on the excitement of seeing you. There’s an antsiness to him, one that he cannot bear on his own, one that he needs your help in taming even if you are the source.

Suna doesn’t even bother to fix the mess he made at the entrance area, two sneakers flopped one on top of the other with the shoelaces splayed out. He’s so eager to greet you that he doesn’t realize that there are a couple of excess pairs at the entryway.

The man quickly jumps behind a corner, nearly knocking over the bookcase that holds more picture frames than tomes.

Look at you.

Suna admires you from around the bend seated with a few of your friends. He doesn’t feel like a creep about it at all even though he knows that’s exactly how you’ll tease him when he reveals himself. You’re his wife.

He smiles quickly at the thought, a huff of disbelief clicks past his lips. It’s only a few months you’ve been married and maybe just a similar amount dating, but the word, the label, it’s instinctual. Not even a learning curve, not a single slip up. It’s like Suna’s known all his life that you’d be his wife and he, your absolutely annoying and adoring husband.

“I can’t believe you’re married,” one of your friends says in awe. There’s obvious jealousy that Suna revels in. Yeah you fucking are. You fucking married him. “That’s insane. You guys must really love each other.”

He doesn’t like the way your lips purse, an imperceptible movement that none of your friends notice. Suna has to blink twice to even register that it happened because you secede quickly with a strained nod.

“How is he by the way? How’s that training thing he’s doing?” another one queries.

“He’s…” then you tap at the screen of your phone and frown. For some reason, Suna sees it clearly despite his distance. He notices a lock screen, one of him passed out with Atsumu’s signature on his cheek, and it’s starkly clear that it’s empty. Not a single notification. “Actually, I don’t even know.”

The pain of your statement forces him to step out. None of you pay him any mind. It feels like he’s hidden below your spotlight, only the length of his shadow reaching the table. The focus amplifies every breath, every drag of your lips as you exhale a weary sigh.

He’s thinking of you, he wants to shout. He spends most nights swiping through albums of the two of you together. The screenshots of your texts are his new favorite bedtime story.

“He’s been busy. Me too,” you tap at your phone again. Is it to check whether or not you’ve missed a text? Or is it a reminder for you that you truly didn’t? “So we haven’t really had a chance to talk to each other.”

That’s right. Suna’s read your texts so many times that he’s been needing new content. He’s been wishing that you’d surprise him more with an unexpected greeting. Suna remembers that feeling, the disappointment that ravages his chest when he reaches in his bag and there’s no notification from you.

He remembers masking the hurt with understanding because you’re in the same boat as him. You’re setting up your futures and discovering self along the way. Marriage is a ticket to each other’s journey, to witness and share the passage of your lives. The moment he fell in love with you, he knew that you’re the one he’d want to change with and distance and poor timing cannot shatter that disbelief.

He says that; he thinks that, but his actions reveal his dishonesty because Suna begins tallying. He starts counting the minutes it takes for you to reply to him and gives back exactly what you gave. He pretends he’s too busy to talk because last week you were too.

And then Suna really is. He’s got interviews and dinners and less time for phone calls and you’re posting Snapchats with friends he’s never met, on plans he didn’t know you had, and Suna realizes that what he’s done is train himself to live without you.

The man looks back at your face then down to his hands. The band isn’t there. He thumbs his left ring finger and searches for the indentation that’s been missing for years.

Ahh, another nightmare.

His eyes flare open. A cold fear stunts his breath and all Suna sees are two long lines of moonlight painting his bedroom wall. He jostles the sheets as he turns and there you are, the silhouette of your figure traced by the same blanket he’s in.

He must have fallen asleep, a thing he tries to avoid whenever you stay over because of nightmares like these. He reaches for your shoulder blade to drag his finger down, below the blanket, and to your hip. A panging resonates in him that forces tears out. They flow past the corners of his eyes and into the pillow. Some journey down the slope of his nose and pile onto the top of his lip.

One would think Suna would know of the pain associated with love. He’s spent years regretting the younger him’s mistakes but this? This impermanence makes him want to break. It’s like falling in love with frost. One wrong breath could ruin everything.

He pulls you to him and you move willingly. Suna turns his face to brush tears onto his pillow and then burrows into your neck. Forehead to your shoulder, he brushes your nape with his lips and gets lost at the feeling. He only stops when you shiver, a small groan that makes him weak.

“I love you,” Suna whispers into the dark. Before, he had never said it enough. He doesn’t care if you’re not ready to say it back or that you chide that he says it too much. It doesn’t matter.

He vows that if you leave him, it won’t be for the same mistakes.

#reina.writeshaikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu angst #suna x reader #suna rintaro x reader

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onebigfangirlworld · 2 years

Text

Peace and Quiet

Summary: Your exhausted but you also want to spend some time with your boys

Relationship: Bob x Rooster x Hangman x gn!reader

Warnings: none, this is just a lot of fluff

Word Count: 598

A/N: I havent written a fic since like 2018/2019 so please be nice to me. This is heavily insired by @daughterofthereaper02 and her work. I don’t own these characters and please don’t steal my work

Link to masterlist

You didn’t know who or what to blame for your exhaustion. You could blame the full moon that was happening tonight. You could blame the fact that all the students in your classes today were rambunctious and couldn’t sit still. You could blame the fact that you were up late unpacking box after box, trying to get moved into your new home with your boyfriends. You tried to find a reason for your exhaustion but there were just too many to count. Even though you could feel the exhaustion sitting in your bones, you still joined your boyfriends out for a night at The Hard Deck. Having not seen them, in what felt like weeks due to busy schedules, you’d take any chance to see them.

“You doin’ alright, sugar?” Jake asked you. The two of you had been playing pool against each other but you were struggling. Jake had noticed pretty quickly. So had Bradley and so had Bob. The three of them always seemed to notice when something was wrong.

“Yeah,” you give him a soft smile, “but I think I’m gonna get another drink. Can you step in for me Bradley, please?”

“Of course, darling,” he pressed a gentle kiss to your cheek, and you passed the pool cue off to him. You stopped by Bob, sitting on a bar stool watching the pool table and having a conversation with Phoenix, and asked if he or Phoenix needed anything. You got their drink orders, and a refill of peanuts for Bob, before making your way over to the bar.

Returning to the pool area you pass off the drinks to everyone, before slotting yourself between Bob’s legs, his arms wrapped around your waist, as he continues his conversation with Phoenix. Your back presses against his chest, as you feel yourself relax into his embrace.

“You alright there, sweetheart?” he mumbles quietly in your ear.

“Yeah. Just tired that’s all,” you respond before stealing some peanuts out of the cup in front of you. He nods his head in response and gives you a quick kiss on the side of your head before returning to the conversation. You closed your eyes, laid your head back on his shoulder, let out a deep sigh and relaxed even more into Bob’s arms.

Bradley nudged Jake’s ribs, stopping him from lining up the shot he was just about to take.

“What-” Jake started saying before Bradley cut him off and pointed towards Bob and you. Both you and Bob were enjoying the quietness of each other’s company. The two men smiled at the two of you fondly. They wished they could freeze the moment and stay there forever. It was as close to perfect as they could get right now.

Bradley and Jake were finishing up round two of their pool game, when Bob got their attention. He jerked his head towards the door, a subtle hint, asking if they were ready to go. You were practically falling asleep in Bob’s arms and the boys all agreed it was time to go home.

“You ready to go sweetheart?” Bob softly asked. You opened your eyes and saw your boys all staring at you. You nodded your head and moved out of Bob’s arms. Jake wrapped his arms around your shoulders and led you out the front door, with Bradley and Bob following behind you. As you walked to the car, you felt Jake give you a gentle kiss on your forehead. You gave him a soft smile. You were very happy and content and ready to go to bed.

#top gun maverick #robert 'bob' floyd #bradley 'rooster' bradshaw #jake 'hangman' seresin #bob x rooster x hangman x reader #top gun maverick imagine #robert 'bob' floyd imagine #bradley 'rooster' bradshaw imagine #jake 'hangman' seresin imagine #jake seresin x reader #bradley bradshaw x reader #robert floyd x reader #writings of one

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illuminatedquill · 7 months

Text

Sabine Wren

Passed Through Fire

Story summary: An unexpected conversation with Jacen Syndulla and his mother, Hera, leaves Sabine Wren with doubts regarding her path as a Jedi. Later that same night Sabine experiences an intense Force vision; what she learns within it will lead to a choice - one that will determine her future as a Jedi, forever.

Sequel to this story:

The Wren-Bridger watchtower is quiet; night on Lothal is falling fast. The stars from the balcony can be seen twinkling overhead, too many to count. Below, the fields of grass sway in the cool evening breeze.

Somewhere, a family of loth-cats scurries through the undergrowth looking for shelter.

Somewhere, the distant howl of loth-wolves can be heard, echoing through the night air.

To some, it is a warning. But for Sabine, she finds the howl to be a comfort. As does her partner, and fellow Jedi, Ezra Bridger.

Sabine leans on the balcony railing taking in the sight and, once again, finds herself falling in love with Lothal. It is home. Always will be.

Our home.

There’s a shared feeling of familiarity and warmth that crosses through the Force. She turned to find Ezra, smiling at her from the doorway.

“It’s a beautiful view,” he said.

Sabine rolled her eyes, but couldn’t fight back a smile.

“Hey, it really is,” Ezra protested. “Lothal nights are one of a kind.”

Sabine arches an eyebrow at her partner. “So, you weren’t talking about me?”

“I mean, what words can be used to describe your beauty, Lady Wren? Truly, there are none that can properly convey the constellations in your eyes-”

Sabine scoffed. “What third-rate romantic holo-vid did you pull that from?”

“Actually, I got it from Lando. He said it a lot better, though.”

“Lando, huh. Maybe I should ring him up and hear how it’s properly said, then.”

She made to move inside the watchtower - until Ezra playfully grabbed her by the waist and twirled her into a smooth dance move that dipped her near the floor with him bent over her in a graceful arch.

“Not a chance, Lady Wren,” he said, his eyes serious.

Sabine’s pulse sky-rocketed. Oh, very smooth, Ezra Bridger, she thought.

After a heated moment, he stood her back up and took a bow.

“Well? How was that? Still want to call Lando?”

Trying her level best to sound non-chalant, Sabine replied, “Nice moves.”

“Ah, high praise.” His eyes sparkled as he pointed out, “I don’t think it’s quite that cold for your cheeks to be flushed, however, my Lady Wren.”

Sabine cursed silently. He held out a hand to her.

She took it. "To bed?" she asked.

"Sure. Unless you want to do some light sparring first? To help settle you."

"Not the exercise I'm interested in, at the moment," she said with a smirk.

Ezra's eyes flashed with heat. "Well, let's not waste anymore time."

They were half-way through the living room when their comm station beeped, alerting to an incoming call.

Sabine cursed out loud this time.

Ezra chuckled and crossed over to the comms.

The blue hologram sputtered forth the image of Jacen Syndulla appeared.

"Hi, Ezra! Hi, Sabine!" said the young boy. His grin was infectious in its youthful energy.

"Jacen!" Sabine joined her partner at the comm station, hurriedly buttoning up her blouse. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah!" Jacen peered closer at the two of them. "Are you guys okay?"

Ezra said, "Yeah, we are. Why?"

"You two look out of breath. Been sparring again?"

Sabine coughed loudly and smoothed her hair. Ezra hid a grin behind his hand.

"Sort of," Sabine said, sheepishly. "Why are you calling this late?"

Jacen grinned and said, "Mom's taking me to see Ahsoka tomorrow."

Sabine looked at Ezra, who mirrored the same look of surprise she had. They knew that Jacen was Force sensitive and most likely held the same strength that lied inherent in his father's blood, Kanan Jarrus. It was only a matter of time before the Jedi path came calling for him.

Hera, however, had been particularly quiet about what she thought regarding her son's future path. As a mother, it can't have been easy for her to think about giving Jacen to the Jedi for training.

As both Sabine and Ezra knew, that was a lifetime commitment. And it came with a steep price.

"Whoa, buddy." Ezra stroked his beard. "That's a lot sooner than we expected."

Jacen pouted. "Really? I've been waiting for ages!”

"We're happy for you, Jacen. Promise." Sabine side-eyed Ezra, who just shrugged. "What does your mom think about this? Is she excited like you are?"

The young boy's face clouded over. "No . . . she pretends to be, but I feel - I don't know. I feel a lot of different things from her whenever we talk about it."

Sabine nodded. "That makes sense. It's a big decision, Jacen."

Jacen nodded. "Ahsoka asked to think about who I want to teach me. As my Master."

"Really?" asked Sabine. "And who do you want as your Master?"

Jacen looked directly at Sabine. "You, Sabine."

Her heart came shuddering to a halt. She could feel Ezra's gaze fall on her.

"Me?" she asked. "Not Ezra?"

"Yes, you." He pointed at her this time as clarification.

Sabine snuck a look at Ezra, worried. She shouldn't have been; his eyes were full of pride and affection without a single trace of jealousy.

As her mind raced with questions, Ezra asked, dryly, "Is it because she has Mandalorian armor and a jetpack?"

"Noooo . . . well, maybe a little bit."

Sabine buried her face in her hands. She didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

Training Kanan's child. That was a huge responsibility.

Am I up to it? Can I do right by him?

It went without saying how much Kanan had influenced her and Ezra's lives. They wouldn't be here without him.

She missed his presence every day. And she knew that Ezra thought about his former master just as much, if not more.

Without looking up, Sabine asked, "Did you tell Hera about your choice?"

There was a pause. Sabine peeked out from her hands and saw the young boy's face look uncharacteristically anxious.

"Yeah, I told Mom."

"And what did she say?"

Jacen looked furtively to the side for a moment, like he was watching for something. Then he whispered, "Promise you won't get mad?"

Ezra looked confused. "Why would we be mad, Jacen?"

"You have to promise," Jacen urged.

Sabine shared a look with Ezra and then nodded. He replied, "We promise."

I've got a bad feeling about this.

Jacen nodded, and then took a deep breath. "Okay, then. She said . . . Mom said she was against it."

The young boy looked down at his feet, ashamed. "Mom doesn't want Sabine as my master."

Sabine sat down, stunned at the admission. She could feel Ezra's puzzlement emanating through the Force, laced with threads of uncertainty.

Hera didn't trust Sabine to train her child.

Not hard to think about why, Sabine.

Even so . . . it hurt to think that Hera didn't have faith in her.

He was about to ask another question when another voice, familiar and filled with outrage, cut in from Jacen's end of the call.

"Jacen! What are you doing?"

Jacen jerked in surprise, eyes widening in horror. "Mom! I thought-"

"Who are you talking to this late at night - oh, you didn't."

The familiar figure of Hera Syndulla, General of the New Republic, filled the hologram gently pushing Jacen to the side. Out of view, Sabine heard Jacen yell, "Chopper! You were supposed to warn me if she was coming!"

Ezra huffed a laugh.

Hera was dressed in plain, comfy night wear - which, to Sabine's realization, none of them had ever seen Hera in casual clothing before. The former Rebel was always seen in her customary flight suit.

She looked tired, but her eyes were sharp eyeing both of them. "Hello, Ezra. Hello, Sabine."

"Evening, Hera. Sounds like you're having a busy day tomorrow from what Jacen tells us." Ezra sounded calm, as though he wasn't perturbed about what Jacen had just said mere second ago.

"Yeah. Sounds like Jacen said quite a lot while I was in the refresher."

She glared to the side and said, in a tone that brooked no dissent, "Bed. Now."

There was a blur in the background of the hologram that had to be Jacen. Hera watched her son off-screen for a little while more and then sighed.

"Sorry about that," she muttered. "He's too wired about tomorrow."

"It's fine," said Sabine. "We always love hearing from him."

"Hmmm. Maybe not this late at night, though." Hera rubbed at her eyes. "I'm going to get a cup of caf."

"We can leave you for the night if you want-" Ezra began, before he was cut off.

"No. I heard everything Jacen told you. And I suspect that Sabine wants to talk with me."

Sabine stared at the hologram. "Are you sure you're not Force-sensitive? Maybe Jacen gets it from you."

Hera gave a half-smile. "Funny." She looked at Ezra. "Ezra, I love seeing you, but this conversation is between myself and Sabine."

Ezra looked at Sabine and she felt his worry and reassurance pulsing through the connection they had.

"It's okay, Ezra. Go to sleep. I'll try not to be long."

He sighed. "Okay." Leaning down, he gave her a kiss on the cheek before departing.

Pausing at the bedroom doorway, he said, "Hera."

"Hmmm?"

"Be nice. Please."

Hera arched an eyebrow. "I don't take orders from you, last I checked."

"Consider it a personal favor to me."

She sighed. "Very well."

Something eased out of his shoulders. "Thanks."

He went inside the bedroom. Sabine and Hera were alone.

"Let me grab that cup and then we'll start." The hologram showed static for a second as the call was put on hold.

Sabine crossed her arms and marshalled her emotions.

Anger. Fear. Sadness.

The emotions Jedi were supposed to know how to deal with.

Emotions that she struggled with every day. She felt no wiser, no more adept at being a Jedi then when she first started all those years ago.

Was it a wonder that Hera didn't want her to mentor Jacen?

There was movement and the hologram sharpened to reveal Hera once more with a freshly brewed cup of cafe. She blew on it for a moment and then said, "You go first."

"I . . . understand your decision, Hera. But it does hurt to hear that you don't trust me to teach Jacen."

Hera's gaze turned sharp, along with her tone. "Not just with Jacen, Sabine. I don't trust you at all. With anything."

Sabine felt her hands unconsciously ball into fists. She breathed deeply, trying to regulate her emotions. Feeling that loss of trust; the relationship she had cherished so much with Hera . . . it was gone.

She had thrown it away when she handed the map to Baylan, along with so many other important things.

"You never understood me." The words slipped out; Sabine barely registered that it was coming from her mouth.

Hera snorted. "Oh, I understand why you did it. All for Ezra. Because you loved him so much, and wanted him back so desperately."

There was a brief pause as she took a sip - and then Hera continued: "Well, news flash, Sabine. You weren't the only one who loved Ezra and wanted to see him come back home."

Sabine crossed her arms. "Ten years. You never came forward with a lead on him-"

"I was busy helping to re-build the New Republic! And I had Jacen to take care of! You think I didn't want to help look for him?"

"And where were you when Mandalore was burned! When my family died! And then Ahsoka left me . . . Ezra was all I had left, don't you get it? I had no one!" Sabine was standing now, her voice raising to almost a shout. She could feel her hands trembling with the raw rage and hurt that was spiraling out of her.

At the mention of her family, Hera's eyes lost some of their anger. She looked away for a moment, blinking hard.

Sabine suddenly realized that Hera was crying.

The rage inside her chest quelled and began to disperse. She took another deep, calming breath.

"You're right about that. I wasn't there for you when . . . when Mandalore fell. And your family - Sabine, I'm so sorry for that. I should have been there."

Sabine sat down, feeling exhausted. "It's in the past, Hera."

"No, it isn't. Not for you," Hera said. "And that's my fault."

A silence spread between the two of them that was, for a moment, impenetrable.

Sabine broke it first. "Hera. None of it was your fault. I wasn't exactly . . . I wasn't - it was a bad time for me. I didn't give out any indication that I wanted anyone around me during - well, really, for a long time. Not just with what happened on Mandalore."

Hera nodded. "That's true. But I should have tried harder for you."

Sabine began to feel the tangled ball of emotions inside her dissipate. Tears began to flow freely down her face.

"I messed up so bad, Hera. I know that. Handing over that map leading to Thrawn . . . do you want to know the worst part?"

"What would that be?"

Her voice was barely a whisper. "I would do it all over again. Even if I knew then how it would all turn out. Even if it meant losing your trust and respect."

Hera sighed. "Oh, Sabine."

"It's not just Ezra, you know? I was so lost. I've been feeling like a failure for so long and I wanted to not feel that way anymore. After the War ended . . . all the victory celebrations and I just couldn't feel it. I couldn't feel happy about any of it. I just kept thinking about what we lost."

She kept talking, just letting it all spill out; everything that had been rotting inside her, spreading a poison that needed to be expelled.

"I kept losing, Hera. Don't you get it? You. Zeb. Even Chopper, that blasted droid, went with you. And I was stuck. And I kept coming back to Ezra - how I felt like the universe owed me this one thing. Just this once, for everything that I did."

She let out a shaky breath. "Just one thing to keep. To call my own. I was tired of giving up everything for a greater good."

Hera asked, "Thinking about Ezra was the only thing that made you happy?"

Sabine let out a laugh. "Yeah, that goofball. Who knew that the kid on Lothal would end up . . . meaning so much. I just kept holding onto that memory of him and it got me through a lot."

It kept me alive, she thought.

"You lost sight of him," Hera said, not unkindly. "The real Ezra. The one who would not have wanted his return to come with the risk of danger to our galaxy."

Sabine nodded.

"Sabine, I understand that. More than you know." Hera leaned back in her chair and sipped at her caf again. "Everyday, I think about Kanan. Especially when it comes to Jacen. I feel so out of my depth with him because of his growing abilities."

Hera sighed. "My own kid. Kanan would know what to do, but he's not here. And sometimes . . . sometimes I resent him for that. Leaving me. Leaving Jacen."

"And then you took on Jedi training with Ahsoka. And I was so hopeful . . ."

"That I could help with Jacen?"

Hera nodded. "Yes."

Sabine waved at herself in a sardonic fashion. "But I turned out like this, instead."

Hera's eyes flashed with renewed fire. "You put my child in danger, Sabine. It's not just about your mistake - you abused your power."

Sabine said, sharply, "What power? I didn't have access to the Force yet, remember?"

"It's not about the Force, Sabine. That's not what makes a Jedi. Even I know that. No, you made a choice. You gambled the fate of our galaxy because of your desire to see Ezra again."

Choice. My choice to save Ezra at the cost of trillions of lives.

"And if you made such a terrible decision before having the Force, then I can't bear to think about what you might do with it. Because there are stories about Jedi who became tempted like you did. And what they did with their abilities is the stuff of nightmares."

Choice. The word echoed in Sabine's head.

"You're worried that I might pass this on to Jacen," Sabine said. Her voice was calm, despite the storm brewing in her stomach.

"Yes," said Hera, quietly. "I see this shadow in you sometimes . . . and it scares me. Jacen can't see it. He adores you."

"His feelings blind him to my failings," said Sabine. "Sounds familiar."

There was another pause. Hera waited for a reply, sipping at the last dregs of her caf.

Sabine just stood there, unable to process anything. She just wanted to sleep - forever.

"Sabine."

She looked at Hera's image.

"Are you certain that this is the right path for you?"

"Being a Jedi?" asked Sabine in a monotone.

Hera nodded.

"I don't know. I struggle with it, everyday."

Hera took that in without comment.

"Why do you want to do it, then? It's not a path that called to you, like with Kanan and Ezra. You chose it."

To atone. But she didn't say that out loud.

Hera, however, guessed at it. "If it's for some kind of penance that you think is owed . . . I'm not sure that's a good reason to be a Jedi."

"Then why should I be a Jedi, then?"

Hera shrugged. "That's for you to figure out." She checked to the side and groaned. "I really hope that chronometer is lying about the time."

"You should get some sleep, Hera," said Sabine, quietly.

"I'll try." She began to turn off the call.

"Hera." Sabine couldn't help herself.

"Yeah?"

"Do you think - can I make this right for you? And Jacen? Can you ever forgive me; trust me again?"

Hera looked at her with such pity and sadness, then. Sabine felt something inside her crumble to dust at the expression.

"I don't think I can, Sabine."

And she was gone.

Sabine turned to enter the watch-tower's sleeping quarters. The doors slid open and she found Ezra, laying awake on their bed.

"You heard?" she asked.

"Yes." He held out his arms. "Come here."

She crawled into his arms and wept her shoulders shaking with bitter grief.

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

In the dream, she is alone.

Kneeling on a stage of starless night.

A voice comes forth - one that she hasn't heard in a lifetime.

"You look a little lost."

Sabine turns to find the achingly familiar figure of Kanan Jarrus, garbed in traditional Jedi robes.

She whispers, "Kanan." All the memories of him threaten to overwhelm her in this moment.

He smiles. "Hey, Sabine. It's been a while."

In a small voice, Sabine asks, "Are you real? Is this happening in my head?"

Kanan shrugged. "Technically, everything happens in your head. Doesn't make it any less real."

"Is this the Force again? Trying to tell me something?"

Kanan turned serious. "Yeah. I've been watching you for a while now, Sabine."

"And? Impressed by my progress?"

Kanan sat down in front of her, cross-legged. "It hurts."

"Yeah?" She wanted to sound defiant, but all that came out was a croak. "Which part?"

He just looked at her with compassion. "It hurts to see you in so much pain."

Sabine didn't want to talk about this. "Where are we?"

"Within the heart of every Jedi lies a place of stillness; a place to reflect, when they meditate. I call it the Still Place."

She snorted. "The 'Still Place'? Kind of lame."

Kanan pouted. "Look, it's not meant to be creative. It just is, okay? That's what it's called."

Sabine sighed and looked around the empty space they inhabited. "Looks like my Still Place is pretty barren."

"It looks different to every person. Focus, Sabine."

She did, closing her eyes - and . . .

The gentle rustle of grass fields in the wind.

She opened her eyes to find herself in a clearing, surrounded by familiar grass lands. Craning her neck upwards, she saw the familiar night sky view of countless stars. In the distance, she saw the capital city and the watchtower she now called home.

"Of course," she said. "Where else would it be."

Kanan smiled. "I miss being here."

She soaked in the view of the world she loved and her former mentor, taking it all in.

"Why are you here, Kanan?"

He returned his gaze to her. "It's not to punish you, Sabine."

"I think I would deserve it. You know what I've done?"

"I know. But it's time to let that go. It's weighing you down. It's hurting you."

"What is?"

"Your attachment to your failures."

Sabine scoffed. "What attachment? I hate my failures! I hate that I messed up!"

"They're a part of you. You need to accept it. And move on."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "That makes no sense."

"Try."

"Jedi don't try," she shot back. "They do."

"When it comes to the matters of the Force and their abilities, then yes," replied Kanan. "But in everything else - look, Sabine, the universe is a complicated place. There's no guarantee of anything. That's the secret."

He leaned forward. "Sometimes, the best we can do is try. Even Jedi make mistakes."

"Even like the ones I've made?" she asked.

"Okay, that's a pretty exclusive club," Kanan admitted. "But there are other Jedi who did make mistakes like you."

Sabine looked at him and said, "Hera thinks I'm irredeemable, you know. That I've gone too far and abused my power."

Kanan gave her a look. "Do you think that?"

"I saved Ezra. And it came at a cost."

"You also stated that you would do it again, even knowing the outcome. You also haven't answered my question."

She thought about it. "I don't want to be irredeemable."

"What do you want, Sabine?"

"I want to be a Jedi."

Kanan cocked his head. "Why? You've never shown an interest before, when I was training Ezra."

"No," she admitted. "But I was watching. And I saw how it made you better. You both became stronger."

"Is that what you desire? The powers of a Jedi?"

Sabine frowned. "No . . . no." She let out a breath of frustration. "I don't know how to put it."

Kanan waited for her to gather her thoughts. And, at last, Sabine found the words.

"Taking the path of the Jedi made you both . . . more. More than what you already were. But you both were still yourselves, but also not just yourselves." She still found the statement to be clunky, but it felt true to what she felt.

Kanan smiled and nodded for her to continue.

"I wanted that. To be more than what I was. To protect others, like you both did. To prevent tragedies like we experienced from happening to everyone else. The Rebellion had plenty of soldiers, Generals, and heroes . . . but what the galaxy really needed were Jedi."

She looked up at Kanan. "And you and Ezra were gone."

"So, you wanted to step up. Become what you thought everyone needed."

Sabine nodded.

Kanan smiled sadly. "I'm sorry, Sabine. I didn't mean to leave you with that burden."

"It was my choice. But, I let everyone down."

"Being a Jedi isn't about the lightsabers or the Force. It's about your choices, Sabine. It's about being the best possible version of yourself. You didn't need to be a Jedi first and foremost - everyone needed you to be yourself."

Sabine shook her head, feeling the tears starting to well up. "But it doesn't matter, Kanan. I think doing this - going down this path, it made me worse."

"Power," said Kanan, "regardless of where it comes from - the Force, political, or financial - is an amplifier for every person. It doesn't change them. It just gives you the ability to be more of . . . yourself."

"So . . . I am irredeemable?"

"You just said that you don't wish to be, right?"

"Right," said Sabine.

Kanan chuckled. "Then you won't."

She blinked at him. "It's that easy?"

The chuckle turned into a full throated laugh. It'd been so long since she'd heard him laugh.

"No, no. You've got to put in a lot of work, Sabine. But if you decide that you want to make amends, then you can."

"Hera doesn't seem to think so."

Kanan stopped laughing. "She'll be a tough one," he admitted. "You crossed a line with her."

He gazed directly at her and for a moment his eyes turned piercing. "You put our son in danger, Sabine."

Sabine felt a chill go through her that had nothing to do with the Lothal evening breeze. "Then why are you helping me?"

"Because I care for you. And so does she. It's why she's so angry with you."

Kanan stood and ignited his lightsaber. The blue blade was bright as any star, casting brilliant light in the quiet field around them.

"Are you ready? To face what comes next?"

Sabine looked at that sky-blue blade and asked, "What comes next, Kanan?"

"Joy. Despair. Love. Heartbreak. And life." He stared at her, face unreadable. "So much of it. If you want."

Nothing about the conversation had particularly inspired her to continue, she reflected. Kanan had simply told her what she needed to hear.

It would be tough. It would be hard, heart-breaking labor to make amends and find her way.

But . . . she wanted to keep fighting. She wanted to do it.

Sabine would see it through to the end. Make more mistakes, learn from them, and keep going. She would try her best and, when the time came, leave this galaxy with as few regrets possible.

And, hopefully, make it a better place for some.

"I'm ready," she said, quietly.

The blade lowered and rose onto each of her shoulders without touching.

"By the right of the Council; by the will of the Force. I dub thee, Sabine Wren, Jedi Knight of the Republic."

The lightsaber blade retracted into its hilt. Kanan held out a hand.

She took it and rose to her feet.

"That's it?" she asked. "Don't I get a fancy parade or something?"

His laughter, warm and loving, followed her out of the dream.

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

The next day, Ezra took Sabine to the hangar bay where the re-salvaged G9, christened The Starburst Phoenix, laid in wait.

He knew that she wanted to focus her mind on something positive considering the mood from last night. Sabine didn't say anything but she appreciated the gesture to cheer her up, nonetheless.

It was good to have a Jedi partner. You were never really alone. Sabine couldn't fathom why the old Jedi Order forbade these kinds of relationships.

They were mid-way through retrofitting the laser turrets when a call came through the comms.

It was Hera.

Ezra looked at Sabine. "If you want, I'll take this."

She shook her head. Sometimes, all we can do is try our best.

"I'm good, Ezra. Go ahead and answer it."

He did. Hera's voice came through, sounding unsteady.

"Hey, Hera," said Ezra. "How'd it go?"

"Ahsoka finished her tests. He's ready to start his official training." Her voice sounded stuffy, like she had been crying.

Sabine spoke. "I'm sorry, Hera."

"No, it's a good thing. He was always meant for this. You should have seen his face, how it lit up . . . I can't take this from him."

There was a few moments of silence. Hera's voice came back on the line, this time sounding more normal.

"When does his training start?" asked Ezra.

"That's the good news. Her and Skywalker are still setting up the Academy and rounding up other candidates. It will still take some time. Maybe a year, at the most."

"You still have time to spend with him," said Sabine, relieved.

"Yeah. I told the Council that I would be taking the next year off to spend time with my son. Mon Mothma personally approved it."

"Good," said Sabine. "They owe you."

"Yeah," replied Hera. "They do."

There was a long pause and then, barely there: "I'm scared."

Sabine caught Ezra's look. He motioned at her to speak.

She frowned and said, "What are you scared of, Hera?"

"Letting Jacen go. The last time I did that with people I loved . . . it didn't end well."

"When was the last time?"

"Kanan. Ezra. And then, you. I let you all go. I should have fought harder to stay by your side."

Sabine let out a breath. "None of that is your fault, Hera. There was a war. It's different this time with Jacen."

"I can hope, right? Trust in the Force." She sounded almost sarcastic in that last one.

"If you need something more, then trust in me, Hera," said Ezra. "And trust in Sabine. We'll look out for him, I promise."

Hera was silent. There were some voices on the other end of the call. Sabine heard a chuckle.

"Jacen wants to know if he can borrow Sabine's jetpack for his training."

Ezra grinned at Sabine. "We'll talk about it," Sabine replied, smiling.

"My vote is no," said Hera, firmly. "But, who knows? It might come in handy some day for a Jedi padawan."

"It did for me," said Sabine.

"And me," added Ezra.

Hera snorted. "Positive influences you two are. The New Jedi Order's best and brightest."

"Hera," began Sabine, cautiously.

"Yes, Sabine?"

Try my best. Make amends.

"Listen. Now that you've got some time off, Ezra and I were wondering if you would love stopping by Lothal to help with a personal project of ours."

Ezra raised his eyebrows questioningly at her but didn't say anything.

"Oh, yeah. Heard you picked up a real clunker of a ship. G9, right?"

"Hey," protested Ezra. "She's got it where it counts, you know. They flew the G9s during the Clone Wars. I heard even some Jedi used them as personal starships."

"Right," snorted Hera. "I'll take your word for it, Ezra, but I'd take the Ghost over your ship, any day.

"Anyway," continued Sabine, glaring daggers at Ezra, "if you wanted to help out. We could use some experienced hands on the repairs. Make sure nothing blows up when we power it on, that sort of thing."

"You haven't powered it on, yet?"

"No. Because we're worried it might blow up if we do. Haven't you been listening?"

Hera sighed. "Repair work, huh. Great start to a vacation."

Sabine replied, "You don't have to, if you think it's too much to handle."

"Nah. Whatever's broken, we'll fix it together," Hera replied. Sabine could almost see Hera's gentle smile in her mind's eye.

Sabine looked at Ezra, who reached out and held her hand.

"My thoughts, exactly."

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

Author's Note: This was a really hard one to write. I don't know how I feel about this; I'm not sure if I got everything I wanted to across or if I properly fleshed out the motivations for Sabine. Any thoughts or comments would be greatly appreciated.

Gonna take a break from writing fics for a while but, never fear, I'm already planning the next one. It's gonna be Ezra focused. Stay tuned!

#sabine wren #ezra bridger #sabezra #ezrabine #star wars rebels #star wars #ahsoka show #fanfic #hera syndulla #jacen syndulla

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